That was when everything clicked in her head, with devastating clarity.
She hadn't reincarnated in her original world, in another era or country.
This was, without a doubt, a fantasy world.
And she was trapped in it.
Under any other circumstances, that fact would have seemed incredible to her—reincarnating in another world!—but given the current situation, she couldn't bring herself to feel happy.
It wasn't just the fact that she had reincarnated as a woman (a bit flat, admittedly, but undeniably female). The main reason—the one that chilled her blood far more than the change of sex—was that… she was completely naked.
Shit, shit, shit… and Why? Why? Why? were the only thoughts spinning through her head, looping endlessly in panic and frustration.
"Was it really that hard to reincarnate me in my own body?!" she protested toward the entity that had brought her here. "Or at least with some clothes on?!"
She said that last part louder than intended. Someone passing by the mouth of the alley must have heard her, because they turned their head curiously.
Reacting on instinct, Logan crouched down and hid behind a rotten wooden crate, covering her nakedness with her hands. She remained perfectly still, holding her breath, until the footsteps faded away.
Only then did she let out a heavy, trembling sigh.
I can't just stay here doing nothing… I don't even want to imagine what they could do to me if someone finds me like this, she thought, a shiver of genuine terror running through her.
In a fantasy world, a naked vagrant wasn't a curiosity; it was a victim.
She looked around desperately, scanning every corner of the filthy alley. She searched for something—anything—that she could use to cover herself.
After several long, agonizing seconds, her gaze locked onto an object.
Perfect, she murmured to herself.
It was a large piece of coarse, dirty fabric, gray with dust, hanging from one of the few windows in the alley, serving as a miserable makeshift awning.
It was her salvation.
It was ugly, smelled of old dampness, and was probably full of bugs, but it was her salvation.
With clumsy movements, she dragged the crate she had used as a shield. Every inch demanded an excessive effort; this new body, thin and lacking any strength, betrayed her at every turn.
Hands that once could have moved heavy furniture now trembled under the weight of the rotten wood.She panted, pushed with all her might, and after what felt like an eternity, the crate gave way just enough.
With one last desperate tug, the cloth tore free and fell over her like a dusty mantle.By some miracle, it was exactly the right size.
Logan wrapped herself in it as best she could, creating a rough, uneven tunic that covered her torso and reached halfway down her thighs.It wasn't elegant, nor clean, nor secure… but it covered the essentials. It was a shield of fabric against the world.
Now comes the hard part… she whispered, feeling the coarse weight of the cloth against her skin.She took a deep breath, ignoring the smell of dust and dampness.
It was time to stop hiding.
With more courage than confidence, she headed toward the mouth of the alley, toward the overwhelming reality of the new world."
Her first steps were hesitant, each one an act of faith over uneven stones. The rough fabric brushed against her legs, reminding her of her vulnerability with every movement.
But it was also a reminder: she was no longer Logan, the twenty-four-year-old guy who had died in a stupid accident, run over without meaning.
she looked toward the light filtering in between the buildings. She had no idea how anything worked.
All she had was this strange body.
Alright, she thought, clenching her fists beneath the dusty tunic.
It didn't matter whether this world was a fantasy or a nightmare. She was not going to be a naked victim in an alley.
And with that bitter promise lodged deep in her soul, she crossed the boundary between the shadows and the unknown light.