The world crumbled to dust in his hands. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like.

One moment, Alaric was staring at the flickering glow of his phone screen, a string of meaningless social media posts filling his tired eyes. A few seconds later, everything went black.

There were no voices, no whispers of warning. Just a deep, hollow silence—an absence that stretched on forever. Alaric had thought he might be dead. Or maybe... he'd simply ceased to exist.

And then, like the snapping of a taut string, the silence shattered. A burst of color, blinding and impossibly vivid, exploded into his senses. When his eyes blinked open again, the world he saw was nothing like the one he'd left behind.

The sky above him was a sickly shade of violet, streaked with glowing clouds that moved too quickly to be natural. The ground beneath him was cracked and uneven, covered in ash and twisted roots that snaked out of the earth like serpents. Strange plants with luminous flowers swayed in the wind, their petals shimmering as though alive.

Alaric sat up slowly, his hands pressing against the cold, jagged stone. He had no memory of how he’d gotten here, or even how he was still alive. His body felt different—lighter somehow. His muscles, though sore, pulsed with an unfamiliar energy. A faint hum thrummed at the edges of his perception, as if the air itself was charged with magic.

He took in a breath, and the air tasted sharp, like ozone after a storm.

A low, rumbling growl echoed from somewhere in the distance.

His pulse quickened. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. The last thing he remembered before the blackness—before the darkness claimed him—was the feeling of being suffocated by the noise of the world, trapped in an endless loop of work and worry. But now... now there was something alive here. Something wrong.

A growl rumbled again, this time much closer, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps—too heavy for a human.

Alaric’s heart skipped a beat. His mind scrambled for answers. Was this some kind of dream? Was he hallucinating? Or worse—had he somehow slipped into another world?

"Focus," he muttered, more to himself than anything.

The rumbling grew louder. He could hear the crackle of underbrush being trampled, the weight of something large moving through the thicket. The smell of wet earth, something sour and rotting, filled his nostrils.

Alaric turned his head, his eyes searching the horizon. The ground before him rose in jagged hills, obscuring whatever was coming. His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, but his legs felt frozen in place, unwilling to obey.

A shadow moved through the trees—large, swift, and terrifying. It was something out of a nightmare: a hulking, quadrupedal beast with scales like black iron, its eyes glowing with an unnatural red light. Clawed feet scraped against stone as it loped toward him, its mouth open, revealing rows of jagged teeth, each one longer than his fingers.

It wasn’t just a monster. It was hunting.

For a moment, Alaric stood there, rooted to the spot in sheer disbelief. His thoughts were a blur, trying to comprehend what he was seeing, but the words didn’t come. There was no time for reason, no room for understanding. Just a primal sense of survival.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Fight or flight.

Before he could even think of moving, the creature lunged.

Alaric’s heart leapt into his throat, and he instinctively ducked, rolling to the side, barely dodging the beast’s snapping jaws. The air tasted foul as it rushed past him. He could feel the heat of its breath on his skin as it sailed past, narrowly missing him.

The ground shook under its weight. Alaric scrambled to his feet, adrenaline surging through him, but his legs were unsteady, his muscles shaking.

He had no idea what kind of world this was, or how he’d gotten here, but one thing was clear: he wasn’t alone. And these creatures—whatever they were—were not friendly.

The beast let out a ferocious snarl and turned back toward him, its glowing eyes narrowed with hunger. Its claws scraped against the stone, leaving deep gouges as it prepared to charge again.

But Alaric didn’t wait.

Instinct took over. His hands shot out in front of him, and he stumbled backward, almost falling, as he felt something shift within him—something deep inside his chest. A wave of strange energy surged through his body, a pulse of raw force that was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

And then it happened.

A torrent of heat exploded from his palms, streaking through the air in a brilliant arc, crashing into the creature’s chest with a deafening crack. The force of the blast sent the beast flying backward, its monstrous body slamming into the side of a rock with a sickening thud. It crumpled to the ground, motionless.

Alaric stood there, chest heaving, eyes wide with shock. His hands trembled in front of him, the residual warmth of the explosion still tingling in his fingers. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. What had just happened? Where had that power come from?

The world felt... wrong, but it was also alive with possibilities. A power he hadn’t known he had, coursing through him.

The beast stirred.

Alaric didn’t waste a second. He turned and ran, adrenaline pushing him faster than his mind could process. His heart pounded in his ears, his feet barely touching the ground as he darted through the desolate landscape, looking for shelter. His thoughts were a whirlwind, still trying to make sense of the impossible.

But nothing in his old life had prepared him for this.

He had been reborn into a world full of monsters. Full of magic.

And he had no idea how to survive.

The sun—or what passed for it in this world—was beginning to set, casting the land in long, jagged shadows as Alaric found himself standing before the edge of a cliff. Below him, a wide river snaked through a valley, its water glowing with a strange, pale light. The air was cooler now, but he barely noticed it as his mind raced.

Something had changed. Something in him had changed. The blast of energy—the magic—it had come from him. From inside of him.

But how? And why?

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and his pulse spiked.

From the edge of the forest, a figure emerged. Tall, cloaked in tattered black robes, with a hood shadowing its face. It didn’t move like a man, but like something... other.

Alaric barely had time to react before the figure raised one pale hand, fingers curling as if in a command. And then, as if answering the call, the air shimmered before him.

A voice spoke, low and gravelly, echoing through his very bones.

“You’ve come to this world, Traveler. There is no going back.”

Alaric swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of a blade that wasn’t there.

“You’re... you’re like me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice shaky.

The figure’s lips parted, a smile—a wicked, knowing smile—stretching across the shadows of its face.

“More than you know, Alaric. More than you know…”