"Awakening in the Abyss"
The streetlamp flickered, casting long, distorted shadows against the towering buildings of the city. In a dimly lit alley, a young man lay slumped against the cold pavement. His trench coat was tattered, soaked in rain and blood. He clutched at the deep gash across his torso, his fingers trembling as he tried in vain to stop the bleeding.
His vision blurred as memories flashed through his mind his childhood, his struggles, the few moments of happiness he’d clung to. And then, the one moment that sealed his fate.
Betrayal.
The woman he had loved, standing in the arms of another man. His heart had shattered in that instant, but what followed was far worse. The man had sneered, and with a simple nod, his goons had descended upon Rian like wolves, tearing into him with ruthless efficiency. Beaten, broken, and abandoned, he now lay in the filth of this alley, life slipping through his fingers.
“I see… I’m really going to die.”
A single tear traced down his dirt-streaked cheek. The world around him blurred, darkness encroaching. Then, amidst the silence, a soft voice called to him.
“Welcome home, my son.”
His breath hitched. His mother’s voice. A warmth he had long forgotten. He smiled weakly, allowing himself to drift toward it.
But then
A pulse of energy radiated from his chest.
A foreign warmth spread through him, originating from where his mother’s keepsake, the keychain had once been. A light flared, burning against his skin. His fading consciousness sharpened as an insignia seared itself into existence, an eye encased within a swirling ouroboros.
A voice ancient, unfathomable, whispered in a language that should have been impossible to understand. And yet, the words resonated within him, as though they had always been a part of him.
A figure loomed before him, shifting like a mirage, its form indistinct yet terrifyingly present. Its piercing gaze locked onto his soul.
“We shall meet again… Hikari wo Motarasu Mono.”
Darkness spiraled around him. A force unlike anything he had ever felt dragged him into the abyss. He reached out in desperation toward the entity, toward anything but it was too late.
The world collapsed.
(Squeak, squeak.)
The shrill sound of vermin scurrying nearby stirred him from the void.
A putrid stench invaded his nostrils,damp hay, rotting wood, and something distinctly foul. His fingers twitched against rough dirt.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open.
Above him, wooden beams stretched across a slanted ceiling, warped with age. The dim interior of what seemed to be a barn surrounded him. Dust swirled in the air, illuminated by the slivers of sunlight seeping through cracks in the walls.
His body ached. His head throbbed. And
Something moved on his crotch.
His gaze shot downward.
A fat rat, its scruffy fur matted with filth, perched atop him. Its tiny paws twitched as it reached closer.
“R-R-Rat?!” he stammered in horror.
Without thinking, he smacked the creature away. The rat let out a sharp squeal, tumbling off into the shadows.
He sat up abruptly, gasping for breath. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
“Where… am I?”
As the question left his lips, a sharp pain lanced through his skull.
Memories foreign, yet familiar, flooded his mind like a dam breaking. He clutched his head as images and emotions invaded him. An orphan boy. A different world. A new name.
Ren Hoyer.
Minutes passed before the agony subsided. His breath came in ragged gasps as he processed the overwhelming revelation.
“So… I’ve really transmigrated.”
It sounded ridiculous even as he said it. And yet, the evidence was undeniable.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet. His legs wobbled, but he steadied himself, pushing open the barn doors.
Outside, morning light bathed the farmstead in a golden hue. Smoke curled lazily from a distant chimney, the faint scent of bread drifting through the air.
His new life had begun.
A week had passed.
Ren had grown accustomed to the daily grind,feeding the livestock, cleaning the barn, and most notably, chopping firewood for the impending winter.
Thud.
The sound of his axe striking wood echoed through the crisp morning air. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he split another log in half.
“Ren!”
He glanced up at the call. Old Man Jake stood near the well, waving him over.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Ren exhaled, setting the axe aside.
By the time he approached, Jake had a small list in his hands.
“I’ve got an errand for you, boy.” The old man scratched his graying beard. “Two hours from here is Red Stone Village. We’re running low on supplies, so I need you to fetch these.”
Ren took the list, scanning it. As he turned to leave, a gentle voice stopped him.
“Wait.”
A frail figure emerged from the house, leaning heavily on a cane. Granny Melda.
Her every step seemed to worsen her breathing. As she reached them, she coughed violently.
“Melda!” Jake rushed to her side. “You shouldn’t be out here! What did I tell you?”
Ren watched in silent disbelief.
Ignoring Jake’s protests, Melda removed a bracelet from her wrist, holding it out to Ren.
“Wear this,” she said softly.
Ren hesitated. “B-But this is yours! I can’t”
“Keep it.” She placed it firmly in his hand. “It’s a good luck charm. It will keep you safe.”
Ren swallowed hard. His fingers closed around the bracelet.
“Then… I shall keep it.”
Melda smiled faintly, ruffling his hair. “Take this too.” She handed him a hooded cloak. “The roads are dangerous. Be cautious.”
Ren nodded. “I will. Thank you, Granny Melda. Bye, Old Man Jake!”
As Ren walked off into the distance, silence settled over the farmstead.
Then
SMACK.
“You fool!” Melda’s cane collided with Jake’s head.
“What the hell was that for?!” Jake yelped, rubbing his scalp.
“You were about to send him to his death! Do you even know what those things would do if they found him?”
Jake’s expression darkened. He exhaled sharply. “We’ve fed him, sheltered him. Why should we risk more? If they find him, at least they’ll look away from us for a little longer.”
Melda’s gaze sharpened. “You think they won’t use him to track us down?!”
A bead of sweat trickled down Jake’s temple.
Melda sighed, rubbing her temples.
“It’s out of our hands now.”
Her weary eyes turned toward the road Ren had taken, her grip on her cane tightening.
“All we can do now… is pray.”
