Hunnt's eyes snapped open.
The first thing he saw was the ceiling.
Not the familiar plaster and chipped paint of his bedroom. No crooked One Piece posters taped unevenly to the walls. No soft LED glow spilling from his console, no steady hum from his old PC fan. Instead, rough-hewn wooden beams stretched overhead, old yet sturdy, with fine cracks tracing jagged lines across the surface, like tiny lightning scars frozen in wood.
Confusion hit him like a punch to the gut. The air smelled different — earthy, faintly herbal, the scent of sun-warmed wood and dry leaves, pressing against his nostrils in a way that made his chest tighten. Sunlight filtered through a small, square window, spilling golden streaks across the floorboards.
"…Where… am I?" His voice emerged in a pitch too high, too unfamiliar, and it made him flinch.
It wasn't his voice. Not really. It was thin, almost childlike, carrying the innocence of someone far younger than him.
Panic rose like bile in his throat. He scrambled out of the crude bed, wobbling on legs that felt fragile and unfamiliar. His feet stumbled across the rough floor, and he nearly collapsed before he caught himself.
He moved toward a small basin in the corner, each step slower than it should have been, as if his body didn't quite belong to him. When he looked into the water, a stranger stared back.
White hair framed the child's face in soft, wispy strands that glimmered like silver in the sunlight. Sharp, crimson eyes stared back at him, unnatural and piercing, glowing with a quiet intensity that made Hunnt's chest tighten. The cheeks were round, the skin soft and unblemished — a child no older than five — yet somehow those eyes carried a weight far beyond his apparent age.
"What the hell—" he whispered, but the words sounded strange, warped on his tongue. The syllables felt wrong, alien.
Then a storm hit him — a crashing, bone-deep pain that split his skull in two. He sank to his knees, hands clutching his head, teeth gritted as memories not his own surged into his mind, violent and insistent.
A small hut. A kindly old couple who smiled at him with warmth he hadn't known since childhood. Dirt paths where he ran, laughter spilling freely with other children. Names of people, places, even songs, all of it flooding his consciousness. A language that had been gibberish moments ago now made perfect, natural sense.
When the storm finally subsided, Hunnt's breaths came in ragged gasps. His hands shook as he lowered them to the basin, staring at the trembling reflection of the child's face — the snowy hair, the burning red eyes, the innocence masking something much older.
"I… I can understand the language," he whispered, voice cracking. "But… I don't know where I am. Or whose body this is…"
His gaze drifted toward the window. Beyond it, forests thick and impenetrable stretched as far as he could see. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks dusted with snow. Somewhere in the woods, faint roars echoed — low, guttural, alien. The sound carried on the wind, making his skin crawl with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
Every sense screamed at him: this place was alive. Vibrant. Dangerous. Beautiful. And utterly alien.
Reality twisted. Only last night, he had been grinding through a game, music blaring through his headset, losing himself until sleep dragged him under. And now… he was here. Not in his room. Not in his own body.
Fear prickled along his spine, sharp as the teeth of some predator lurking just out of sight. Every instinct told him to run, to hide, to figure out what had happened before it was too late.
Yet beneath the fear, a spark flickered. Determination, stubborn and unyielding, rose like a flame in his chest.
Hunnt clenched his tiny fists, knuckles whitening, eyes — red, fierce, unnatural — sharpening with resolve. He was small. He was young. He was unarmed. And yet, somehow, he was still Hunnt.
"I don't know where I am. I don't know why I'm here. I don't even know whose body I'm in," he muttered, voice trembling but firm. "But I'm not giving up. I won't just survive… I'm going to thrive. I'm going to figure this out. No matter what it takes."
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of earth, rain, and untamed wilderness. Somewhere, a roar echoed again, closer this time. And Hunnt knew — he had no choice but to step into this world, whether it wanted him or not.