I sat up slowly, every joint in my body protesting the movement, my clothes clinging to me like a second, damp skin. A light drizzle continued to fall, the cold seeping in just enough to make my bones ache. I blinked hard, scanning my surroundings—trees, mud, more trees. No buildings, no cars, no streetlights. Just… wilderness.
One second, I was grabbing a midnight snack, the next? This.
"What the hell?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain on leaves.
My mind was spinning, trying to rationalize the irrational. Did I pass out? Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?
The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and moss, clinging to everything like a second atmosphere. Panic started to rise in my chest, hot and sharp. I wrapped my arms around myself tightly, my breath catching.
"Okay… okay, think," I whispered to no one. You're a rational person. You don't just teleport into forests.
Somehow I felt like this wasn't a dream. The pain in my ankle was too real. The drizzle was too cold and I was too awake.
"Please let this be a dream," I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and pinching the inside of my arm until it stung.
Still here.
I wasn't waking up. My mind was reeling and then the darker thoughts started to creep in, slow and sinister.
Was I kidnapped? Did I wander off during a panic attack? Was I… was I drugged?
A terrifying thought surfaced, Was I assaulted? Left out here after…
"No." I cut off that spiral fast.
My hands swept over my body in a frantic inventory—arms, legs, torso, beneath my clothes. Searching for proof. Expecting it. Nothing. No bruises, no cuts, no tenderness where there shouldn't be.
I let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry. "Okay. You're okay."
Nearby, my first aid kit lay half-buried in a clutch of ferns. My phone was there too, caked with mud but mercifully intact—two fragile lifelines in a place that felt like it wanted me dead.
With trembling fingers, I snatched up the phone and pressed the power button, hope flaring sharp and desperate.
Nothing.
"No, no, no…" The words tumbled out as I pressed again. Held it down. Shook it as if that might will it awake. Still nothing. The screen stared back at me, black and cold.
For a long moment, I just sat there, the weight of it pressing down heavier than the rain-soaked fabric clinging to my back. Then I dragged in a breath, forced the panic lower—shoved it somewhere it couldn't take me yet—and lifted my head. The forest loomed around me, waiting. Watching.
I needed shelter. I'd freeze if I stayed out here much longer.
That's when I saw it. To the left, maybe ten yards away, half-concealed by drooping branches and a slope of jagged rocks—was that a cave?
The entrance was narrow, the inside swallowed in darkness, but it looked dry. Safe, or at least safer than the open forest. A sliver of hope carved into stone.
I pushed myself upright, biting back a wince as pain flared in my ankle. Clutching the first aid kit tight to my chest, I limped forward. Each step felt like walking a tightrope strung between survival and disaster, the cave pulling me closer with every breath
As I reached the cave's mouth, I hesitated.
What if something was in there?
Then again, what if I stayed out here and froze to death while weighing my options?
"Cave it is," I muttered, forcing myself forward.
I ducked inside, the roar of rain dulling to a muted hush as I crossed the natural threshold. The air was cooler, thick with the smell of wet stone and moss. I let the kit slip from my hands and sank to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest.
The cave was colder than expected—like Mother Nature had decided to toss hypothermia onto my already stellar list of problems. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. The air pressed close, damp and metallic, with an aftertaste of stone… and regret.
Outside, the light was fading fast. I had no idea what time it was. My phone was dead, and I'd lost all sense of direction somewhere between panic and denial.
I looked around the cave. Then I saw it—flames flickering merrily on bare stone, no smoke, no wood, no crackle, as if physics had simply decided to take the night off.
I slowly walked toward it and crouched down, reaching out a hand. Warmth radiated from the flames, but when my fingers brushed the fire, nothing happened. No pain. No sizzle. My hand passed straight through, like I was waving at a particularly dramatic screensaver.
"What…?" I blinked, unsure whether to be impressed or terrified. Maybe both. Was this cutting-edge tech? Was I in some top-secret VR experiment? Or had I just finally snapped?
I didn't have time to decide.
A sharp bang echoed from deeper in the cave, followed by a series of metallic crashes, like someone had thrown a bunch of swords into a dryer and hit spin.
I jumped, heart practically cartwheeling.
"Cool. Great. That's normal," I muttered. Because sarcasm made fear less awful, apparently.
I hesitated. The smart move would've been to back away, find a corner, and pretend I'd seen nothing. But curiosity—and my track record of questionable life choices—won out. I tied the first aid kit to my belt and stepped forward, every nerve in my body strung tight.
The sounds got louder with every step, each clash ricocheting down the tunnel until even my footsteps felt like I was announcing myself on a loudspeaker. I rounded a sharp bend—and stopped dead.
Two figures were locked in combat with… something. Definitely not a cave thing. Honestly, not even a real-world thing. It looked like someone had built a nightmare out of spare parts and bad intentions.
The fire—still hovering midair because, sure, why not—lit the scene in bursts. Blades flashed. Shadows twisted. And me? I was standing there realizing this was absolutely, one hundred percent above my pay grade.
And yet... I couldn't look away.
One of them wore flowing white robes, every movement precise and almost too graceful—like he'd trained with an ancient swordmaster and a ballet troupe at the same time. His blade gleamed even in the dim light, slashing through the air with unsettling elegance, faster than my eyes could fully follow.
The other moved in the shadows. His robes were black, sleek, and his style was all speed and sharp angles—dodge, pivot, strike—inhumanly fast, like he was three seconds ahead of everyone else, including gravity.
And the thing they were fighting?
Yeah, that's when I started to question whether I'd fallen, cracked my skull, and was currently starring in my own hallucination.
A scorpion. Not your average desert variety—the scorpion. Huge, black as midnight, its tail arched high and dripping venom like it had beef with the entire field of biology. And because nightmares apparently come with bonus features, the whole thing was wrapped in churning black smoke. Not figurative smoke. Literal smoke—alive, pulsing, and way too pleased with itself for something that shouldn't even exist.
I stood there like a useless extra, frozen. What was I even looking at? Who were these sword-swinging cosplay warriors? And what kind of nature documentary had I stumbled into?
Then something clicked. Or maybe snapped.
The man in white—there was something about the way he moved. That stoic vibe. That posture. That damn headband.
"No," I whispered, squinting like a grandma reading small print. "No way. Is that...?"
He looked exactly like Lan Wangji. From The Untamed.
Was someone filming a fan-made sequel? Was this a hyper-realistic VR game? Or had I just blacked out in my living room and landed in someone else's fever dream?
My existential crisis was interrupted by the white-robed guy suddenly pausing mid-fight, pulling out a Guqin like he was about to drop the sickest ancient diss track in history.
He plucked the strings with practiced precision, and a haunting melody filled the cave—low, mournful, and somehow way too powerful for a string instrument. A blue light spiraled from the strings, gathering into a glowing beam aimed at the scorpion.
I barely had time to register the wow, that's beautiful before the beam collided with something invisible and ricocheted off, slamming into a nearby boulder.
The rock exploded.
As in, full-on cinematic detonation. Shards went flying.
I screamed. Loud. Sharp. Totally involuntary.
The music stopped.
Both the fighters and the monster paused like someone had hit the "mute" button and then they all looked at me.
The man with the Guqin slowly lowered his hands. His eyes locked on mine—curious, assessing, and very much not amused.
I froze, every cell in my body screaming run, but my legs were like, "Nah, let's stand here and marinate in the embarrassment a bit longer." Before I could spiral further, the creature made its move—because apparently it didn't care about dramatic timing.
It lunged.
Its claw sliced through the air like a wrecking ball, the impact rattling the very tunnel walls. The guy in black twisted aside, faster than human reflexes had any right to be—but not fast enough. The massive pincer caught him across the ribs, tearing through fabric, then flesh, with a sound that turned my stomach.
He staggered, the motion sharp and uneven, a raw cry ripping free before he could bite it back. Blood spattered the stone, thick and hot, painting the ground in a trail that proved this was no dream, no hallucination. This was real, terrifyingly real—and he was bleeding out right in front of me.
The man in white rushed to him immediately, moving with terrifying control. He raised a hand and summoned—not even kidding—a shimmering barrier of faint blue light that bloomed between them and the creature.
A literal energy shield.
"I—what? Is this real?" I breathed, blinking hard like that would fix anything. "Did I die in my sleep? Did I get reincarnated into a high-budget wuxia game?"
The shield flickered under the creature's blows. Each hit sent ripples through it like a pond under a storm. The man holding it up was starting to falter—just slightly—but enough to see the strain in his shoulders.
They were losing ground. Suddenly, it hit me: this wasn't a movie. Or a prank. Or a fan project with suspiciously good CGI.
This was too real.
My pulse spiked, hammering against my ribs like it wanted out.
If that shield gave out, they were dead—and so was I. I had nothing. No weapon. No plan. Just a first aid kit and the gnawing realization I'd spawned into somebody else's final boss fight without the tutorial.
"What am I supposed to do?" I whispered, voice shaking. "Throw band-aids at it?"
My eyes darted around the cave, desperate for anything remotely useful. Weapon? Distraction? Literal miracle? I'd take anything. The fear was real—tight, suffocating—but adrenaline had finally kicked in, shoving panic aside just long enough to scream: Do something.
"Think, come on, think!" I hissed at myself.
The white-robed guy's shield was cracking now, thin lines of light spidering across its surface like it was made of glass instead of whatever energy-magic nonsense this was. He was running out of time and so was I.
This was probably the worst idea I'd had in my life, but I felt compelled to help him. Maybe it was a survival instinct. Maybe it was the dozen times I watched The Untamed when I should've been doing literally anything else. Either way, I was suddenly Team White Robe.
The creature didn't even bother looking at me, too focused on its main target. So, naturally, I decided to announce my presence in the worst possible way.
My hand closed around a rock—cold, damp, absolutely not Excalibur, but desperate times call for geological weaponry. I sucked in a shaky breath, scraped together every ounce of wildly misplaced courage, and hurled it at the giant demon-scorpion.
It hit.
Square on the side. Then bounced off like I'd lobbed a soggy dinner roll.
Not exactly heroic—but apparently enough to get noticed.
The creature turned. Slowly. Menacingly. Its whole body coiled like a spring, black smoke writhing around it as if auditioning for a horror movie poster in real time. Its glowing red eyes—if "eyes" was the right word—snapped onto me.
I forgot how to breathe.
"Oh… shit," I whispered. Because of course I'd just signed myself up as the main course.
It started toward me, massive, clicking claws scraping against the stone like it enjoyed the sound. I froze. Every part of my body screamed run, but I could barely move.
Then—twang.
The Guqin sang again.
A sharp, piercing note echoed through the cave as a wave of shimmering energy slammed into the creature. It staggered back, just enough to buy a few seconds.
"Get behind me!" the man in white shouted.
For once, I didn't argue with the sword-wielding stranger. I scrambled behind him like my life depended on it—because, well, it kind of did.
As I ducked behind his flowing sleeves of danger and mystery, my brain, traitorous as ever, had thoughts.
What is even happening? I was binge-watching a drama last night. Now I'm living in one. Is this karma for not folding my laundry?
I glanced toward the guy in black. He was slumped against the cave wall, bleeding and completely unconscious. He was definitely not up for Round Two. Which meant it was just the guy in white holding the line. And judging by the way his hands were trembling, he was barely holding it.
The creature refocused, screeching like a broken violin, its rage now dialed to eleven and aimed straight at us.
Okay. Need a bigger distraction, I thought. A much bigger one.
Then I saw it.
A stalactite, dangling precariously from the ceiling, right above the monster. Classic video game weak spot. Worth a shot.
I grabbed another rock. Heavier this time. My hands were shaking so badly it felt like I was trying to throw while in a minor earthquake, but I aimed for the base of the stalactite and hurled it with everything I had.
The rock hit the stalactite dead-on.
There was a sharp crack, and for a split second, I actually believed I'd pulled it off. That I, the barely-functioning adult with a dead phone and zero upper body strength, had just helped defeat a demonic scorpion.
And then it missed.
The stalactite crashed harmlessly to the cave floor with all the dramatic flair of a failed group project. The creature flinched at the sound but was otherwise perfectly fine. Not even a scratch.
"Damn it!" I hissed, clenching my fists. Of course, it missed. Of course.
Fortunately, maybe the noise did something. The scorpion paused, confused—or possibly insulted.
White Robes didn't waste the moment. He let out a short, clipped shout and strummed his guqin again, harder this time. The sound that burst from it wasn't music—it was force. A sonic wave, shimmering with energy, slammed into the creature, and this time, it worked.
The black smoke around it blew apart like mist under a spotlight. The creature shrieked, stumbling, clawing at nothing, but still upright.
Then it turned.
Right. Toward. Me.
Its eyes—those glowing red murder-orbs—locked onto mine, and for the first time I swore it knew. Knew exactly who had caused its pain, who had dared to interfere. The black smoke around its body writhed tighter, like fury made visible.
It was coming for me.
My heart was doing the drum solo from hell, and I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I was just standing there, watching death approach, every thought reduced to this.
The creature lunged. A claw swung toward me, jagged and glinting, close enough to taste the air it cut through.
I didn't scream. I couldn't.
A sudden, brilliant light exploded out of my chest like I was a human disco ball possessed by a divine being. The whole cave lit up—blinding, searing, impossibly bright.
The light surged outward, wrapping around the creature and slamming into it like a tidal wave. It screamed, a horrible, guttural screech, its body twisting in pain as the light consumed it.
And then—boom.
A deafening crack split the air, and the creature was gone in a burst of white and smoke, erased as suddenly as it had appeared. For a heartbeat, silence clung to the cave.
But not for long. The ground shuddered beneath me.
Somewhere above, I heard the ominous groan of stone giving way. Then—crash. Rocks tumbled down from the ceiling, slamming into the floor with thunderous finality. One after another, they collapsed over the cave's entrance until it was completely sealed.
Darkness.
For a few seconds, all I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the high-pitched ringing in my ears. My body shook so hard I could barely keep still.
"What the hell just happened?" I whispered into the black. My voice came out thin, frayed at the edges.
No answer.
The cave was silent now. Too silent. Heavy with it. But I wasn't alone. I could feel it—that presence. Close. Not threatening… but there.
"Hello?" My voice cracked. "Are you… okay?"
Still nothing.
The silence had changed. It didn't feel empty anymore. It felt like a held breath.