The world, once familiar, was nothing but a blur as Kaito struggled to keep his eyes open. His head pounded, the remnants of a storm he could barely remember crashing inside his skull. His mind raced with confusion, unable to grasp even the faintest hint of clarity. Where was he? What had happened? The last thing he remembered was the usual humdrum of his life—a college student, lost in the monotony of exams, coding assignments, and late-night coffee runs. But now?
Now, he was standing in a forest—no, a strange forest. Towering trees with gnarled branches stretched toward the sky like twisted fingers. The air was thick with the scent of earth and damp leaves. The ground beneath his feet was soft, moss-covered, and unfamiliar, unlike any woods he had known back home. No, this wasn't just any forest. This was… another world.
What the hell is going on? His thoughts raced, but the confusion remained thick, smothering any semblance of reason. The faintest memories flickered, but they were out of reach, like a dream he couldn't quite remember upon waking.
He staggered forward, each step unsure. His limbs felt too heavy, too strange, as if he were wearing someone else's body. He looked down at himself—he was dressed in a long, weathered cloak, and under it, a tunic of fine, though aged, cloth. His hands, calloused and worn, gripped the hilt of a sword he didn't remember drawing.
But that wasn't the most perplexing part. It wasn't the forest or the sword.
It was the magic.
The moment his hand brushed against the hilt of the sword, the air itself seemed to shift—distant whispers, low and ancient, wrapped around him like a cocoon. The sword, a simple longsword with a tarnished blade, thrummed with a faint, eerie energy.
Before he could process it further, a distant noise broke his focus. The snap of twigs. A faint rustle in the underbrush. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows.
A woman.
She was tall, draped in elegant, albeit bloodstained, robes. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders like moonlight, and her violet eyes were locked on him with a piercing intensity. She was pale, almost ethereal, but her gaze carried the weight of someone who had lived through horrors Kaito could not begin to understand. In her left hand, she held a sword—a blade unlike anything Kaito had ever seen. Its hilt was wrapped in dark, intricate symbols, and its edge shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light.
"You," she said, her voice a mix of surprise and suspicion, "who are you?"
Kaito opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know who he was anymore, let alone who this woman was or where he was.
She took a step closer, her eyes scanning him as though trying to read him from the inside out. "Answer me."
"I… I'm Kaito. Kaito Bansal." The name felt strange on his tongue, as if it didn't belong. But it was the only thing he could remember clearly. "I don't know where I am. I don't know what happened."
The woman's gaze softened for a fraction of a second, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "You're not from this world," she said with certainty, her words sharp as a dagger. "But somehow, you've crossed over."
"Crossed over? What are you talking about?" Kaito's voice was thick with disbelief. "This doesn't make sense. I don't know anything about crossing over! I—"
Before he could finish, she raised a hand, her eyes flashing with an unspoken command. "You're not alone. The forces of this world are in turmoil, and you've been pulled into the chaos. It doesn't matter how or why. What matters is you are here now, and you have a choice."
Kaito took a step back, feeling the weight of her words press down on him like a mountain. His heart pounded in his chest. This was insane. He wasn't supposed to be here. He didn't belong in some fantasy world with magic and swords. He was just… normal.
"What kind of choice?" he asked, his voice shaking, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear or the intensity of the situation.
The woman's gaze hardened, and she seemed to assess him with an intensity that almost felt like a physical blow. "The fate of this world depends on the choices you make. The empire you've entered is crumbling. A war is brewing—a war between kingdoms, between the old powers and new rebellions. And in the center of it all, there is the throne of Ashes and Flame. The throne that will choose the next ruler of the empire. Will it be a tyrant, or will it be someone who can bring true change?"
Kaito stared at her, bewildered. He had no idea what she was talking about. A throne? A war? Ruler? He was just a guy who had woken up in the middle of nowhere, in some strange world with no idea how or why he had gotten here.
"I'm not a king," Kaito muttered. "I don't even know where I am! I just want to go home!"
The woman's expression softened, but only slightly. "Home is no longer an option for you, Kaito Bansal. This is where you belong now. And you must choose: stand with those who would keep this world in chains, or fight for those who would tear it down."
Kaito opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form the words, a loud crash echoed through the trees. The sound of something large crashing through the forest—something coming straight for them.
The woman's eyes flicked toward the source of the noise, her expression hardening once again. "We don't have time to talk. Follow me if you want to survive."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and began to move swiftly through the forest, her sword held in front of her like a shield.
Kaito, still struggling to grasp what was happening, did the only thing he could: he followed her. Every instinct told him to run, to get away, but something deep inside him whispered that if he stayed, if he followed, he might just have a chance to figure out what the hell was going on.
The chase led them deep into the heart of the forest, where the trees seemed to close in around them, their roots like twisted hands reaching for the ground. Kaito's breath was ragged as he ran, his mind barely able to keep up with the chaos unfolding before him.
Suddenly, the underbrush ahead parted, revealing a massive creature—a hulking beast covered in scales, with eyes that burned like coals. Its mouth opened in a deafening roar, and Kaito froze in place. It was a creature from the stories. A demon.
The woman was already in motion, her blade flashing as she engaged the demon in a deadly dance. She was a master, her movements fluid and deadly, cutting through the demon's skin with ease. But even she wasn't without limits. The demon's claws slashed through the air, narrowly missing her as she darted out of the way.
Kaito's heart raced, his eyes glued to the fight. He didn't know what he could do—he was just a normal guy, wasn't he? But there was something about the way the demon moved, the way it attacked that sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins. He had to do something.
Gripping the sword tightly, Kaito rushed forward, his legs moving of their own accord. He didn't know what he was doing, but somehow, he knew—he had to act.
With a yell, he swung the sword in an awkward arc, aiming for the demon's leg. The blade connected with a sickening thud, and to Kaito's shock, the demon howled in pain, staggering back. The woman—Seraphina—glanced at him, her expression unreadable.
"Not bad," she said with a hint of approval. "But you're going to have to do better."