Lira blinked against the bright sky. It hurt. She rolled over and groaned. Her cheek was pressed into dirt—damp, soft, smelled like pine but not quite. She sat up slow, heartbeat picking up. Her head spun.
First thought: Where the hell am I.
Second: Why is the sun so bright.
Third: Why do I remember everything.
The trees looked fake. Purple leaves, black trunks, clean air like someone photoshopped the world. It wasn't Earth. But her memories were still there. Her job. Her cat. Her phone. All of it.
She stood on shaky legs. "Okay," she whispered. "This is... somewhere."
She wasn't hurt. Clothes were intact. Same black hoodie. Jeans. Worn sneakers. She looked like she'd just walked out of her apartment—only there were no apartments in sight.
Then a voice called out through the trees. "Hello?!"
Lira froze.
"Anyone there?!" the voice shouted. Male. Not angry. Just loud and confused.
She hesitated, then stepped forward. "Yeah! Here!"
A few seconds later he came stumbling through the brush. Tall. Messy black hair. Hoodie like hers. He saw her, stopped, blinked.
"Oh thank god," he said. "You're... human, right?"
She gave him a look. "What kind of question is that?"
"Sorry. I just woke up under a tree and started panicking."
"Same."
He walked closer, hands up like a peace offering. "Name's Kobb."
"Lira."
"Okay. So, uh... where are we?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look like I know?"
"Fair."
They stood awkwardly, just looking at each other. It helped, honestly. Proof she wasn't alone in this weird forest.
"I remember stuff," Kobb said suddenly. "Like... everything."
"Me too."
"So it's not the kind of isekai where you lose your memories."
"Nope."
He glanced up at the sky. "Pretty sure this isn't Japan."
"Or Earth at all."
They both looked around. Purple leaves shimmered like foil. The grass was almost too green. There was a breeze, but it didn't move the trees much. The clouds were... slow. Not wrong, just different.
"This feels like a prank," Kobb said. "Like someone stuck us in an escape room with weird landscaping."
Lira crouched and touched the soil. It was cool and soft and didn't smell like anything she knew. "Nah. Too real. Too detailed."
They walked.
No plan. Just away from where they woke up.
They passed flowers shaped like stars. Something buzzed overhead—too fast to see. The light filtered through the leaves like a spotlight. Everything was weird but didn't scream "danger" yet.
Kobb tripped over a root.
Lira didn't help him up.
He stood and muttered, "Root was asking for it."
They found a stream. Water crystal clear. They drank, cautious at first. It tasted fine. Cold. Lira dunked her whole face in it and came up gasping.
"I needed that," she said.
Kobb washed his arms. "So we're hydrated. That's something."
"I wonder if there's people here."
"I'd settle for a squirrel that doesn't have six legs."
They kept walking. Lira started marking trees with scratches from a rock. Kobb tried to gather sticks but half of them snapped like chalk.
By afternoon, they were tired and frustrated.
"Back home I had coffee by now," Kobb muttered. "And Wi-Fi. God, I miss Wi-Fi."
Lira was too busy scanning for shelter. "We should stop soon. Get a base."
He groaned. "We're doing the survival thing already?"
She nodded. "Unless you want to sleep under a purple tree and get eaten by a whatever-the-hell's out here."
They built a lean-to using bent branches and large leaves. Not great, but it kept the wind off. Kobb tried rubbing sticks together. It did not work.
Lira sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't speak for a while.
Then, "Do you think this is permanent?"
Kobb looked at her. "I mean... we didn't exactly get instructions."
"Yeah."
They both went quiet again.
The air got colder when the sun dropped. The sky turned gold, then purple, then black. Stars appeared. Too many. They looked sharper than Earth's stars. Like diamonds instead of light.
"I can't sleep," Kobb said.
Lira didn't answer.
He shifted, lying on his side. "So what do we do? Just... wait?"
"I guess."
He sighed. "If a bear eats me in my sleep, I'm blaming you."
"No bear's gonna eat you."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm closer to the edge. They'll eat me first."
He snorted. "Fair enough."
She pulled her hoodie tighter.
The night sounds were strange. No crickets. Just slow, soft hums, like a far-off machine that never stopped.
"I thought it'd be more magical," she said after a while.
"What, being thrown into another world?"
"Yeah."
Kobb turned over. "Yeah. Me too."
Morning came too fast.
Kobb didn't remember sleeping but he must've drifted off at some point. His back hurt. His leg was numb. Something buzzed near his face and he slapped it without looking.
"Still here," he muttered.
Lira was already up. Sitting cross-legged on a rock nearby. Hair messed up, hoodie wrinkled, staring at the woods like they owed her an explanation.
He shuffled over.
She didn't look at him. "I thought I'd wake up back home."
"Yeah," he said. "Me too."
They sat there for a while in silence. It wasn't peaceful. It was heavy. Like the world was still trying to decide if it was real.
Kobb stretched. "We need food."
Lira stood up. "Let's go."
They followed the stream again, hoping it would lead to something. A fruit tree. A bush. Anything. The birds followed from above. Lira kept glancing at them like they'd drop hints.
They found a tree with red pods hanging low. Kobb grabbed one and sniffed it.
"Smells like... vinegar."
"That's not helpful."
He bit into it anyway. Chewed once. Spit it out. "Tastes like expired ketchup."
Lira laughed, the first time since they met. It came out surprised.
"You gonna die now?" she asked.
"I dunno," he said. "Give it ten minutes."
They kept moving.
Eventually they found a flat clearing. Moss-covered rocks. A tree shaped like a hook. Enough space to build something better than their pile of sticks.
"This is good," Lira said.
Kobb dropped his pack of leaves. "Camp Rock."
She rolled her eyes. "You name everything?"
"Helps me not panic."
They got to work. Again. It was slow. No tools. Just instinct and stubbornness. Lira figured out how to weave leaves into rope. Kobb tried lifting a log and nearly threw out his back.
By noon they had a frame of something hut-shaped. Still no fire. No food.
"This is survival mode," he said. "I didn't sign up for Minecraft."
Lira was chewing on grass.
Kobb stared. "That's where we are now?"
"Don't judge me. It tastes minty."
He shook his head and sat down.
"Hey," he said after a minute. "What's the last thing you remember from Earth?"
She didn't answer right away.
"Rain," she said. "Streetlights. I was walking home. My shoes were soaked. Then—black. Not even pain. Just... nothing. Like blinking."
Kobb nodded. "I dropped a box at work. Then the floor disappeared."
"Weird."
They let that sit.
"Feels like a clean cut," she added. "Like someone sliced us out and pasted us here."
He shivered.
"No idea why," she added. "But yeah. It wasn't gradual. It was fast."
He rubbed his face. "So we agree it's not a dream?"
Lira looked up. The clouds hadn't moved. They were still frozen like a painting.
"Not a dream," she said.
The sun was hotter than yesterday. The air too perfect. No bugs bit them. No animals came close. It was like the world was waiting.
By evening, they had a structure tall enough to crawl inside. They didn't talk much while working. Just gestures. A nod. A grunt. It felt weirdly normal.
Kobb looked around. "Still no people."
Lira nodded. "Still no signs of life besides us."
They sat on a rock and stared at their half-hut. Wind rustled the grass. The forest felt big. Like it went on forever. But not in a natural way. In a designed way. Like someone made sure it looked endless.
Lira broke the silence. "You ever think this place is... empty on purpose?"
He blinked at her.
She waved it off. "Forget it. I'm just hungry."
That night, they tried sleeping inside their new hut. It didn't help much. Kobb curled up on his side. Lira sat at the entrance, keeping watch even though she didn't know what she was watching for.
She kept thinking—there should be more. A noise. A creature. A sign. Anything.
But it was just them.
Just two people. From Earth. Remembering everything. Sitting in a place that didn't exist yesterday.
Her stomach growled.
She pressed a hand against it.
"This better not be permanent," she muttered.
No one answered.
Just the hum of the wind and the faint sound of those birds laughing again.