Boom!
Across the great cosmos, a streak of light shot through the void—a meteor blazing its way from the formless chaos, plunging headfirst into a world teeming with both life and turmoil.
The disturbance didn't go unnoticed.
A vast, ancient gaze turned toward it, accompanied by a chorus of harmonies that rose and fell like a celestial symphony.
The meteor, as if drawn by an unseen hand, veered off course and merged into the melody.
A new note—one never heard before—emerged, dancing at the edge of the great composition. Fresh yet harmonious, it spun and shimmered, adding to the cosmic song.
"Acceptable."
The gaze withdrew.
Flash—
—
[Achievement Unlocked: "Step Into the Central Realm!"]
Description: Enter the Central Realm.
"Huh?"
Wind rustled through grass and trees. Birds chirped cheerily above. Something warm brushed across his cheeks.
Eric blinked against the sunlight stabbing into his newly awakened eyes, forcing him to squint and groan.
It took a good moment before his senses adjusted. Slowly, he began to take in his surroundings.
And then he saw it: floating text before his eyes, like a subtle whisper across his vision.
"An... achievement?"
Wait a second. That style looked oddly familiar.
"Central Realm...?"
Eric stood up, took a deep breath, and was immediately hit by the freshness of the air—clean, with the faint scent of grass and damp soil. Definitely better than the musty little flat he remembered.
He was standing beneath a tall oak tree, surrounded in every direction by green fields and rolling hills.
One thing was certain: this wasn't anywhere near his apartment.
Was he kidnapped?
Did he sleepwalk onto a plane?
His mind spun. He tried desperately to recall what had happened before all this, but it was all a haze. Blank.
The last memory he could latch onto was... playing Minecraft?
Yes. Minecraft—a classic sandbox game, beloved by all ages.
Eric had played it for over a decade, ever since he was a kid. Even after all these years, even when staring at endless pixelated blocks, he'd never grown tired of it.
Wait!
Something clicked.
He stared at the floating text again. It was beginning to fade into transparency, but as he focused, it became sharp once more.
"That's the Minecraft achievement system!"
As his jaw dropped in disbelief, another translucent message appeared in the top-right corner of his vision:
[Tutorial Quest: Open Your Inventory]
Inventory?
On instinct, Eric whispered, "Inventory," in his mind.
A familiar UI popped open.
Three rows of slots. One hotbar.
And on the left—a character model. His own, with the same stunned expression and goofy posture. There were even four armor slots.
Closing the inventory, Eric noticed a new overlay now permanently part of his vision—he had a health bar and a hunger bar.
The hunger bar was already halfway down. Probably from lying unconscious in the grass too long.
"…Did I get isekai'd into Minecraft?!"
Just as he debated whether to go punch a tree and craft a workbench, a voice called out to him.
"Um, excuse me! Are you alright?"
[Language Module Loaded]
Another notification blinked into place alongside the voice. Eric jumped and spun around—yet saw no one.
What the hell?
"Down here, sir."
A hand waved in front of his face.
Eric looked down—and met the eyes of what could only be described as... a tiny man.
"Are you alright, sir?" the little man asked kindly.
Eric blinked. He gave the stranger a once-over.
He stood only waist-high. His voice was mature, his clothes well-made. A fish hung from his belt. Definitely not a child.
One explanation came to mind:
Dwarfism?
Clearing his throat, Eric composed himself. "Hello there."
"Er, human sir," the small fellow said, tilting his head. "Are you... lost, perhaps?"
Human sir?
What a way to put it.
Still, the presence of another person—however small—was a comfort. At least he wasn't alone in the wild.
"Yes, actually. I am a bit lost. Could I ask where I am?"
The little man blinked, then answered, "Why, you're in the Shire. Specifically, Hobbiton."
Eric froze.
The Shire?
A name surged out of his long-term memory.
The Shire... The Lord of the Rings...
Oh no.
Eric looked down at the fellow before him again.
Waist-height. Big feet. Fuzzy toes. Slightly pointed ears.
A Hobbit.
So... this was the Middle-earth "Central Realm" he'd just seen in the achievement text?
Eric stood there stunned, unsure whether to panic or dance with joy.
Middle-earth—beautiful and storied, full of fascinating people, magical creatures, and epic adventures. In the films, it was practically paradise.
But in reality? It was also full of dangers, orcs, Sauron, Nazgûl, and every manner of terrifying fate.
A peaceful life was not guaranteed.
Eric spaced out again, and the Hobbit scratched his head, mildly concerned. This tall stranger really did seem a bit... vacant.
Black hair. Odd clothes. A gentle face. Definitely not from around here.
The Hobbit gave him another curious look and said, "If you're looking for a place to stay, sir, you might try the tavern in the village. Or head east to Bree—plenty of your kind there, I hear."
"Ah, thank you, I—"
Grrrrgle...
His stomach betrayed him with a loud protest.
An awkward silence settled between the two.
The Hobbit glanced down at Eric's belly, then up again.
"Well, I was planning to cook up some fish and potatoes tonight. Would you care to join me?"
Eric wanted to politely decline... but his hunger bar blinked ominously, and he realized that starving in Middle-earth was probably not the best way to go.
"I'd be grateful," he said at once.
The Hobbit looked momentarily stunned. He clearly hadn't expected Eric to accept.
Judging from his strained expression, he probably regretted offering.
"Well then, follow me. But I'll have to stop by the market again. I only bought enough food for one…"
He turned and began to waddle down the path, muttering to himself about extra portions and unexpected tall guest.
Eric, thick-skinned and increasingly hungry, followed close behind.
They passed cozy hill-homes and crossed a wooden bridge, heading toward the market. Hobbiton came alive around them with laughter and chatter.
The market was bustling with Hobbits—round-cheeked, barefoot, and cheerful.
Eric towered above them like a misplaced Ent sapling, having to duck often to avoid bumping into awnings or knocking over signs.
He was very much a curiosity.
"Are you a wizard?" a young Hobbit asked, eyes wide as saucers.
A wizard? Probably thinking of Gandalf.
"No, not at all. Just a traveler." Eric chuckled, waving it off—but the child was already being tugged away by a parent.
Soon enough, his host finished buying the ingredients and waved Eric to follow him out of the crowd.
Once past the hustle and bustle, Eric sighed in relief. His neck was starting to cramp from all the stooping.
Finally, they stopped outside a round, wooden door built into a hillside.
"This is my home, sir," the Hobbit said cheerfully. "Mind your head—ceilings aren't made for your kind."
He opened the door and walked in, then turned and added, "Dinner's still a bit away, but afternoon tea is soon. Perhaps we'll have a bite then."
Eric ducked and stepped inside.
It was warm, tidy, and filled with the comforting scent of home. Everything was scaled smaller, of course, but the craftsmanship was charming.
It all felt... strangely familiar.
His eyes drifted to a little chest near the door.
Wait a second…
"I'm sorry," Eric said, turning to his host. "I never asked your name. I'm Eric Starfell."
The Hobbit, just finishing setting down the groceries, turned and smiled.
"Well met, Eric."
"I'm Baggins."
"Bilbo Baggins."