The first thing I felt wasn't the pain. It was the grass.
Cool, wet, and utterly alien.
My eyes snapped open. Not to the familiar gray smog of my city, but to a sky choked with three—no, four—moons, each a different size, hanging like divine eyes in a sea of impossible stars.
Where the hell am I?
My second thought was more practical.
I'm naked.
A jagged scar of lightning-white memory flashed through my mind: the scream of a child, the screech of tires, the blinding flash. I'd pushed her out of the way. Then… nothing.
Now, this.
A cool breeze ghosted over my skin, raising goosebumps. The air smelled of damp earth, ozone, and something else… something sweet, like blooming night flowers. I sat up, my body aching. But it was a familiar ache. The ache of a fight, not of death.
On Earth, they had names for me. The Undefeated God. The Fist of Heaven. Shera, the Martial God.
I just called myself a high school dropout who was tired of breaking things.
All I'd ever wanted was peace. A quiet life. A world where I didn't have to clench my fists to feel safe.
Seems I got my wish, I thought, a bitter smile touching my lips. Just not in the way I expected.
I stood, my muscles coiling with a power that felt… different. Lighter. The very air hummed with an energy I'd never felt before, a current that resonated deep in my bones. It felt like my entire body was a tuning fork, finally struck.
"GRRRRRAAAAAAAAGH!"
A roar ripped through the forest, followed by the splintering of wood. It wasn't the roar of any animal I knew. It was guttural, full of bloodlust and malice.
Then came a scream. A girl's scream. High-pitched and laced with pure terror.
My body moved before my mind could object.
Dammit. So much for a quiet life.
I burst through a thicket of glowing flora, my feet barely touching the ground. The scene that greeted me was straight out of a nightmare.
Two creatures, each easily ten feet tall, with mottled green skin, tusks like daggers, and arms as thick as tree trunks, were cornering a young woman. Ogres. My mind supplied the name, though I had no idea how I knew it.
The girl was backed against a massive, gnarled tree. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. Long, chestnut-brown hair was matted with dirt, and her simple white robe—a healer's robe?—was torn at the shoulder, revealing pale, trembling skin. Her emerald eyes were wide with a terror so profound it was almost silent.
She clutched a small, glowing crystal, her knuckles white. "Please… someone… help me!"
The first ogre chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. It raised a crude, spiked club, its shadow swallowing her whole.
"No one's coming, little morsel," it grunted.
It was wrong.
I didn't have a weapon. I didn't need one. My body was the only weapon I'd ever trusted.
I took a single step, inhaling the strange, potent air of this world.
The first ogre swung its club down.
I was already there.
I didn't throw a punch. I simply opened my hand and tapped my index finger against the side of its head.
There was no sound. No satisfying crunch.
Just a soft pop.
The ogre's eyes went wide, its single moment of confusion eternal. Then, its head, club, and the top half of its torso simply… ceased to exist. They dissolved into a fine red mist that settled on the leaves like morning dew.
The second ogre froze, its tiny brain struggling to comprehend the impossibility of what it had just witnessed. It turned its head, its piggy eyes locking onto me. It saw a naked man standing calmly in the clearing.
It saw its death.
It opened its mouth to roar, but the sound never came.
I exhaled.
The rush of air from my lungs hit the ogre like a physical blow. A shockwave, visible for a split second, slammed into its chest. The creature flew backward, not just falling, but launching, crashing through three ancient trees before its body imploded against a fourth.
Silence.
The only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves and the girl's ragged, hitched breaths.
I turned to face her. Her emerald eyes were fixed on me, the terror now mixed with something else. Awe. Disbelief.
She looked from the red mist, to the cratered tree in the distance, and then back to me. Her gaze swept over my body—the corded muscles, the scars of a thousand battles on Earth, my unflinching calm.
She flinched, clutching her torn robe tighter, her fear of me now rivaling her fear of the monsters.
I sighed. This was the part I always hated. The fear.
I walked over to the tree she was pressed against, my steps silent on the mossy ground. I knelt, ignoring the gore, and gently touched the bark beside her head.
"Are you hurt?" my voice was rough, unused.
She shook her head, unable to speak. I saw then that her arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, broken during her fall.
I reached out. She flinched again, squeezing her eyes shut.
But I didn't touch her. I simply picked up a large, soft leaf from the ground and a tough-looking vine. With practiced ease, I created a makeshift splint, my movements precise and gentle. I wrapped her arm, securing it without ever letting my skin touch hers.
She slowly opened her eyes, watching my hands. They were hands that had just vaporized a monster, now treating her with the delicacy of a surgeon.
"I'm not a monster," I said quietly, meeting her gaze. "I just kill them."
She stared at me, a single tear tracing a path through the dirt on her cheek. Her lips parted, and she finally found her voice, a whisper carried on the wind.
"Who… who are you?"
I stood up, the four moons casting long, heroic shadows behind me.
"Shera."
And in that moment, under the light of four alien moons, I knew one thing for certain.
My quiet life was officially over.