Ashton sat at the bar, feeling awkward and out of place in this new world. He fidgeted with his phone, trying to ignore the low battery warning as it flicked on and off half a dozen times. He wasn’t built for this kind of thing. Most of his friends were into sports, but Ashton? Not so much. The only callouses he had were from hours spent playing Call of Duty on his PS5. His thumbs were hardened from endless button mashing, not swinging swords or riding horses like the people in this world probably did.

He realized he had yet to introduce himself, and the silence between him and the wolf-man was becoming uncomfortable. “I’m Ashton, by the way,” he said, offering a small, unsure smile.

The wolf-man’s ears twitched as he looked Ashton over again, then gave a slight nod. “Well met, Ashton,” he rumbled. “And I am…” He paused, perhaps considering how much he should say, but then he finally leaned forward with a slight grin. “I’m one of the city guard.”

Ashton nodded, his curiosity growing. The wolf-man’s name would have to come later. He glanced over at the orc bartender, who was still cleaning glasses and wiping down the bar. The orc seemed unfazed by the eclectic crowd, as if this was just another regular day in Eldrin.

“Is it common for orcs to run businesses?” Ashton asked, genuinely curious. Back in all the games he’d played, orcs were usually warriors or shunned from cities—not behind the counter at a tavern.

The wolf-man let out a low chuckle, his sharp teeth showing as he shook his head. “Not at all,” he said, his voice rolling with amusement. “Rurgash here was ejected from his tribe for being too docile.” The wolf-man gestured toward the bartender. “He’s more interested in running this tavern than swinging a battleaxe.”

Rurgash grunted but didn’t look up, clearly used to being talked about. “I don't like fighting,” his deep voice rumbled.

Ashton’s eyebrows raised. It was strange to think that even in a place as wild as Faeloria, some things stayed the same. People—or rather, orcs—still had to make a living, even if it wasn’t what was expected of them.

“Guess that makes sense,” Ashton said, leaning back in his seat. “Running a business seems safer, too.”

The wolf-man shrugged. “Safer, sure. But less exciting.” He glanced at Ashton, a smirk pulling at the edge of his muzzle. “You? I’m guessing you’re not used to excitement either.”

Ashton laughed nervously, rubbing his thumb against the edge of his phone. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m more of a gamer.”

The wolf-man chuckled again. “Well, Ashton the gamer,” the wolf-man said with a smirk, “you’d better start adapting. You won’t get a second chance if you get yourself killed around here.”

Suddenly, the tavern door swung open with a burst of energy as a small child rushed in, her tiny footsteps tapping hurriedly across the wooden floor. She looked far too small to be a human child, standing barely knee-high, with curly brown hair bouncing as she ran. Her voice rang out, high-pitched and excited.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she called, her little arms pumping as she made a beeline for the wolf-man at the bar. “I got level 2 in bug catching!”

Ashton blinked in surprise as the girl skidded to a stop in front of the wolf-man, holding up a strange insect. The creature she proudly presented was unlike anything Ashton had ever seen, a bizarre combination of a praying mantis and a giant ant, its long limbs twitching as it perched in her hands. The bug had iridescent wings and mandibles that clicked together softly as it moved.

The wolf-man’s stern expression softened immediately, his golden eyes lighting up with a warmth Ashton hadn’t expected. He crouched down and her little head craned upward, he gave her a toothy grin.

“Well done, little one,” he rumbled, his voice filled with pride. “Level 2 already? You’ll be out-catching me soon.” He reached down, gently inspecting the bug she was holding. “That’s quite the catch. What’s this one called?”

The girl’s blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “It’s a Mant-ant! I found it near the creek!”

Ashton watched the exchange in stunned silence, trying to piece together what he was seeing. Just like in the fantasy movies he saw, she looked like a mini-human. Despite that, she had the same playful energy as any young kid back on Earth.

The girl finally noticed Ashton sitting nearby and tilted her head curiously. “Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked, peering up at him with wide eyes, still clutching the bug.

The wolf-man stood back up, glancing over at Ashton before answering, “This is Ashton, a new arrival. He’s… learning his way around.” He looked back at his daughter, his voice softening again. “Why don’t you show him your Mant-ant?”

Without hesitation, the girl trotted over to Ashton and held up the strange bug for him to see. “Isn’t it cool?” she asked.

Ashton smiled, a little taken aback by her energy but nodding. “Yeah, it’s… definitely cool,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic despite not really knowing what to make of the creature. “Looks like you’re pretty good at catching bugs.”

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The girl beamed at the compliment, her small stature only adding to her undeniable charm.

Ashton stared at the little girl, his mind racing. Levels? This had to be a game. The feeling of unreality crept back in—nothing made sense. His pulse quickened as he glanced at the wolf-man, who was now watching him with a smirk.

“What does she mean, levels?” Ashton asked, still trying to grasp how bug-catching could have levels.

The wolf-man raised an eyebrow, as if surprised Ashton didn’t know. He tapped the side of his own head with a clawed finger, right at his temple. “Like this,” he said. “Go on. Tap here.”

Ashton hesitated for a moment, then mimicked the wolf-man’s gesture, pressing his fingertip lightly against his head. The moment he did, the world around him seemed to warp. The air itself felt like it was being pulled apart, torn and twisted in ways that made his vision blur. The tavern stretched and cracked like shattered glass, and a high-pitched ringing filled his ears, so loud it was almost unbearable.

His head throbbed with searing pain, as if something deep inside his skull was being pried open. Ashton gasped, clutching his head, and felt something warm trickle down from his nose. He wiped at it quickly—blood.

Suddenly, just at the edge of his vision, something flickered to life. A small, semi-transparent box appeared in his peripheral vision, almost like a heads-up display in a video game. The pain in his head started to ease, but the ringing in his ears continued to hum faintly.

The box was empty, save for a blinking cursor waiting for input, like a command prompt from an old computer screen.

“What the—” Ashton whispered, his voice shaky as he tried to focus on the box.

The wolf-man, watching the scene unfold, crossed his arms, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Welcome to Faeloria,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ve got a lot to learn, human.”

Ashton blinked at the box, the cursor still flashing, waiting for him to do something. The pain was fading, but his mind was spinning faster than ever.

What kind of world is this?

As Ashton blinked at the box floating in his peripheral vision, the little girl’s voice cut through the haze. “What level are you?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

Ashton looked again, but there was no level, no information at all—just the blinking cursor, patiently waiting. His vision swam, and he wiped the blood from his nose again, his head pounding.

“Are you bleeding?” the wolf-man asked, his tone shifting from curiosity to concern as he noticed the blood on Ashton’s hand.

Ashton swayed slightly, dizziness overtaking him. He leaned back, but before he could fall off the stool, the wolf-man’s large, furred hand caught his shoulder and steadied him. “Easy now,” the wolf-man said, guiding Ashton toward a nearby table. “Sit here before you fall over.”

“Level?” Ashton muttered as he sank into the chair, pressing a hand to his forehead. The faint ringing in his ears hadn’t quite faded. “I don’t see any levels.”

The orc bartender grunted from behind the counter, watching with mild interest. “You should be seeing a box,” the orc rumbled “Shows your level and profession. Everyone in Faeloria has one.”

Ashton shook his head, staring at the empty box in his peripheral. “Nope,” he said, his voice strained. “I don’t see anything like that.”

The wolf-man exchanged a glance with the orc, then crouched down in front of Ashton, his golden eyes studying him carefully. “That’s strange,” he said, scratching his chin. “You should have something in there. Even new arrivals do.”

Ashton closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. “I need some time to think,” he said quietly, his mind still trying to process everything. The distorted world, the pain, the strange box—none of this was making sense.

The wolf-man nodded, standing back up and giving him some space. “Take your time,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’ve had a rough day.”

Ashton sat there, gripping the edge of the table, trying to figure out what was happening to him.

As Ashton sat there, trying to make sense of everything, one thought kept circling in his mind: It felt too much like the games he’d spent countless hours playing. Levels, professions, strange interfaces—it was all too familiar, yet completely alien. But something the wolf-man had said was nagging at him.

“What did you mean by ‘new arrivals’?” Ashton asked, glancing up at the wolf-man.

The wolf-man crossed his arms and leaned against the bar, his golden eyes studying Ashton as if trying to gauge how much to explain. “People come from other worlds all the time,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. “We have a portal system. Mages create and maintain the portals, and it takes a lot of power to bring someone through safely.”

Ashton’s brows furrowed. A portal system? That sounded like the typical fantasy setup, but there was one big problem with that.

“I didn’t come through a portal,” Ashton said, his voice steady but confused. “I just… appeared. In the middle of the street. No warning, no portal. One second, I was in my room, and the next, I was here.”

The wolf-man’s ears flicked as he frowned, thinking. “I saw you in the street, sure,” he said slowly, “but I didn’t see you teleport in or anything. You were just there, like you’d always been standing in the middle of the road. It was strange, but… I didn’t think too much of it at the time. Maybe that’s why you’re having trouble with your interface.”

Before Ashton could say anything more, the little girl, who had been standing by quietly, pulled out a chair next to him and climbed into it. Her tiny legs dangled off the edge of the seat, swinging slightly as she smiled up at him. “I’m Holly,” she said cheerfully, as she handed Ashton a cloth. “Daddy says I’m the best bug catcher in Faeloria!”

Ashton managed a small smile despite the confusion clouding his mind. “Nice to meet you, Holly,” he said, trying to focus on something simpler for a moment. Her bright energy was a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He wiped his hands and nose.

Holly giggled, still cradling the strange insect. “You’ll figure it out,” she said, her confidence surprising. “Daddy says everyone gets confused when they first arrive. It’s normal!”

Ashton glanced up at the wolf-man. No portal, no teleportation. So how did I get here? He had no answers, and it seemed neither did the wolf-man. But at least now, he had a name to the strange little girl at his side, and maybe, just maybe, he could start piecing together what had gone so horribly wrong with his arrival in this world.