Armin's senses snapped awake, his head throbbing as if a hammer had split his skull. 'Where am I and what the fuck was that?' The blinding light from the dome still lingered in his vision. He stood in a small clearing, the air thick and humid. The scent of leaves and wet earth filled his lungs. 'Am I in a goddamn forest? How??` His body felt wrong—too small, too light, its proportions those of a child no older than three. He flexed his fingers, their unblemished skin trembling under his gaze. 'This isn't right, this isn't my body', he thought, a pulse of dread coiling in his chest.
A forest loomed around him, its trees towering like gnarled sentinels, their bark twisted into grotesque shapes. Leaves in unnatural hues, swayed in a breeze he couldn't feel. The sun burned high, its heat pressing against his shoulders, barely covered by a tattered tunic. The silence was suffocating, unbroken by birds or insects, only the soft rustle of leaves whispering secrets he couldn't grasp. It felt wrong, as if the forest were watching, holding its breath.
'The dome I woke up in looked clearly magical in nature, the runes on the walls glowing up in response to the man's actions, combined with the knights in full armor…. I have to take the possibility that I've been transported to another world seriously. I can't really feel any magic around or inside me, despite numerous attempts. My mind is still trying to come up with a rational explanation for all this, but everything just doesn't make sense. The strange man also seemed to care a lot about me, but I can't remember ever seeing him before. I guess that's something I'll have to try to figure out in the future. Let's concentrate on finding water or some hill or something that'll give me some insights about the area.' The memory of glowing carvings and armored figures crashing through stone flickered in his mind, sharp but disjointed. He'd been teleported—ripped from that sealed chamber to this alien place. 'Is it really another world?' The thought was absurd, yet the glowing moss and twisted trees mocked his doubt. He clenched his fists, discipline forcing order on chaos. 'Focus. Survive.' He took a deep breath, the humid air heavy in his throat.
His eyes scanned the clearing, searching for threats. A flicker of movement caught his attention—a shadow darting between trees. His pulse spiked, his small body tensing. 'Something's out there.' He squinted, but the shape was gone, swallowed by the forest's depths. Fear prickled his skin, but he shoved it down. 'Not now.' He moved forward, his bare feet sinking into the soft earth, roots snagging at his toes. Each step sent a strange warmth through his limbs, as if his body were knitting itself stronger, defying its frail appearance. He noticed but didn't linger—survival came first.
Hours bled together, the forest an endless maze of twisted trunks and vibrant, alien foliage. The silence persisted, oppressive, as if the forest itself were wary of him. Fleeting shapes were flickering in his peripheral vision—never close, never clear. 'Beasts? People? But what kind of people would leave a 3 year old in the forest?' He froze once, heart pounding, as a shadow lingered longer, its outline vaguely human before vanishing. 'I'm not alone.' The thought was both threat and hope, but he had no weapons, no strength to fight. He kept moving, his small legs tireless despite their size, an odd resilience pushing him forward.
The forest parted to reveal a wide river, its waters dark and turbulent. Armin knelt at the bank, studying the current. It looked wrong—too vibrant, too alive. 'No way I'm drinking this.' He should have been parched, his throat dry after hours of walking, but his body felt… fine. No hunger, no thirst, just that faint warmth pulsing through him. 'Strange, yet another thing to figure out later.'
He followed the river downstream, hoping for a village or a hill to gain his bearings. The sun dipped, casting long shadows that made the trees seem taller, more menacing. Then he saw it: a wrecked ship, its splintered hull jutting from the river like the bones of a slain giant. Its timbers were weathered, coated in glowing moss, and wooden spikes protruded from its deck, impaled with skeletal remains—humans, their armor fragments glinting faintly, some with spears still lodged in their ribcages. The skeletons were posed, some hanging from ropes, as if in warning. He shivered, imagining tribes ambushing travelers, leaving their corpses as a message.
The ship was close, 10 meters into the water, but the current was fierce, and the hull bristled with splinters and jagged metal. A cut could mean infection, deadly in this small body without medicine, but staying in the forest, exposed, was worse—no cover, no vantage point. He waded in, the cold water biting his legs, but the chill faded quickly, his body adapting unnaturally. He swam, his small arms cutting through the current with surprising strength, and clambered onto the wreckage. A splinter grazed his palm, blood welling briefly before the wound sealed shut, leaving only smooth skin. He stared, unnerved. 'What am I?'
The ship's interior was empty, its rooms stripped. He climbed the broken mast, his small hands gripping moss-slick wood, until he reached the highest point. What he saw left him speechless '.... nothing? Just a sea of trees in every damn direction? How am I going to survive this? With an adult's body there could have been a chance, but how far can a child's body get? This might be the only safe place to sleep for miles. I'll really have to think about how to proceed tomorrow' An endless sea of trees, stretching to the horizon in every direction. No roads, no settlements, just the river snaking through the forest. Nothing. Despair clawed at him. The ship was the only refuge for miles. He settled against the mast, the glowing moss casting faint light as night fell, the distant rush of the river his only company…. or so he thought.