A year passed. The forest, once a threatening green hell, had become Arka's backyard. The rhythm of his life had taken shape, carved by the cycle of sunrise and sunset, of hunts and training. The body that once held only the echoes of another's memory was now his own, forged by hard work until every muscle obeyed his command.
But amidst the comfort of his new routine, one question continued to gnaw at him. A blind spot in his adventure: the cave where he had first opened his eyes. That place was the beginning of everything, an untouched mystery. Curiosity grew into resolve. He had to go back. He had to conquer that place and claim it, not as a shelter, but as a source of answers.
"We're going to take back our first home," Arka whispered one morning to his three companions.
Bullyu, now the size of a full-grown wolf, barked in agreement. Hanzo merely blinked from the shadows, a silent nod. Selen rubbed her head against Arka's leg as if to say she would follow him anywhere.
Their journey to the cave felt different this time. Before, Arka had moved through the woods with fear. Now, he walked with confidence, three loyal guardians at his side.
When they arrived at the mouth of the cave, the predator's distinct scent immediately hit them. Soon after, its inhabitant emerged. The giant bear now seemed larger and more ferocious, scars from countless battles decorating its black fur. It roared, a sound that would have once sent Arka running for his life. But now, Arka just stood his ground.
He didn't draw his sword. This fight wasn't his. He simply gave Bullyu a short nod.
It was the only signal needed. With a growl that shook the ground, Bullyu shot forward like a white-furred torpedo. He didn't attack blindly but slammed his powerful shoulder into the bear's front leg, breaking the beast's momentum and forcing it off-balance.
As the bear roared in fury and focused all its attention on Bullyu, who now acted as a shield, a black shadow moved without a sound. Hanzo, the silent hunter, had circled the battlefield. With lightning speed, he pounced from the side, his claws and fangs tearing into the bear's hind thigh, making it scream in pain and struggle to stand firm.
The battle was a beautiful, brutal orchestra. Bullyu absorbed and deflected the strongest attacks with his sturdy body. Hanzo constantly moved in the bear's blind spots, crippling it bit by bit with swift, precise strikes.
But the bear was the king of this forest. In one desperate swipe, its claws managed to catch Bullyu's flank, leaving three deep, bleeding gashes. Bullyu staggered back, but before the bear could press its advantage, Selen made her move. She didn't attack, but instead let out a strange, high-pitched shriek, just enough to disorient the bear for a split second.
That precious moment was all Hanzo needed. From behind, he leaped onto the bear's back and sank his fangs deep into its nape. The giant bear finally collapsed with a heavy thud. Selen immediately ran to Bullyu's side, licking his wounds with her healing saliva.
Arka could only watch with bated breath, his heart swelling with pride. His family was no longer a pack of fragile cubs. They had become a formidable fighting team.
After making sure Bullyu was all right, they entered the cave that was now theirs. The air inside was stale and smelled of death. With a makeshift torch in hand, Arka began to inspect the place. His attention was immediately drawn to the stone floor, right where he remembered first opening his eyes. There, faintly but clearly etched, was a magic circle with a complex geometric pattern he didn't recognize. Its lines seemed to still faintly pulse with energy. This was his arrival gate.
A chill ran down his spine. As he pondered the mystery, he traced his hand along the damp cave wall. He felt something different on one side—straight lines and curves that felt familiar. He held his torch closer, brushing away the moss that covered them, and his heart nearly stopped.
They weren't random scratches. They were letters. Letters he knew better than anything in this world.
"This... is impossible..." he whispered, his voice trembling.
Before him, neatly carved on the stone wall of a cave in another world, was a sentence in the language of his home—the language of Earth.
Hot, unrestrained tears welled in his eyes. He touched the letters, feeling every curve. After a year of living in isolation, this piece of his home felt like a painful miracle. A powerful wave of homesickness crashed over him. But beneath that wave, another, colder and sharper emotion began to surface: anger.
His fists clenched tightly at his sides. This was no coincidence. This was too deliberate. Someone... something... had orchestrated this. His death, his arrival here, even his mother tongue etched into this stone.
"This isn't fate," Arka thought bitterly. "This is a script, and I'm just a pawn. Who is the puppet master behind all of this?"
His sorrow now mixed with a burning rage. With a choked breath, he began to read the long inscription aloud. The sentences told an ancient story, a warning, and a key. As he spoke the final word of the carving...
GRRRRRRRR....
The floor beneath him trembled. The stone wall he had just read slid aside with a heavy, grinding sound, revealing a dark passage behind it. The room had been waiting for him.
Arka stood frozen at the threshold of the secret door, the torch trembling in his hand. His old world and his new one had just collided in a way he had never imagined. And he knew, the answers to all his questions were hidden in the darkness before him.