Athen, a fragile and weary soul, walked beneath the gray sky, his hair as dark as night and his eyes white, empty, devoid of light. He clutched a piece of bread in his hands, the only connection to the world around him. The road was his home, an endless path, and his mind wandered, consumed with thoughts of whom to rob. Without family, without hope, the boy moved forward, but in the end, his body, now exhausted, gave way. Without a sound, he collapsed into silence, like a leaf carried away by the wind of fate
The boy slowly began to wake, his eyes opening gently, as if afraid of what they might see. But what surrounded him was unfamiliar, a landscape he could not comprehend. He tried to grasp something, seeking a certainty, but his hands found only emptiness, and he fell, as if the world itself was slipping away from beneath him. When he finally opened his eyes, a chill ran down his spine: he was no longer in his world. The leaves, the trees, the rocks—everything looked alien. There were no houses or streets, no trace of civilization, just an endless, wild nature.
"Where am I?" he whispered, his voice broken by panic. "What is this place?"
Every corner felt strange, yet the boy sensed that everything around him spoke of a reality he could not recognize. The forest was there, but it was not like the one he knew. Every tree, every leaf, every stone seemed to belong to a forgotten dream, a dream he was now trying to grasp but could not.