Her tanned skin on that streamlined body glistened with a light sheen of sweat, the musky scent of sun-kissed skin, earth, and primal allure of women wafted from the MILF, and impacted on his awakening desires. And the touch from her electrifying hands seemed to promise ease and forbidden pleasures alike, awakening a hunger in him that threatened to consume him whole.
As she leaned in, the heat of her body, the very essence of her being, reverberated through him, further fanning the flames of his desire into an all-consuming inferno.
Just when he felt that he was about to lose it all, the ever present headache strengthened further, awakening him from her allure, and promptly switched on his upper brain again, as he came back to sense, looking at her and the surroundings, he couldn't help mutter, 'What am I? Where am I? and most importantly who is this smoking hot milf?'
This woman…
Just as this thought emerged, a sharp pain filled his head, so intense that he just wished to pass out, but his brain refused to comply and stayed wide awake, letting him thoroughly enjoy the pain.
He tried to roll around to ease the pain, but his body refused to listen, so he could only helplessly shut his eyes in pain. It was like thousands of needles poking his head at once, various fragments of memory continuing to drift in his mind, and he knew that they were definitely not his own.
Seeing him like this the woman was startled and cried out in alarm "Sol! Sol! What's wrong? Don't frighten me like this!" Seemingly think of something, she hurried out of what you can say a thatched hut, as it was patched together with wood, hay, and animal leather.
On the other hand, after what felt like an eternity, the pain finally began to subside. Not totally disappear… just loosen its grip enough to allow him to at last breath again.
A rapid, ragged exhale tore out of his lungs, as he tried to catch his breath again.
By now his whole body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle throbbed like it had been cooked over an open fire. His mildly tanned skin flushed crimson, veins still pulsing from whatever cosmic crap he'd just gone through.
He stared up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling, heartbeat still pounding like an old engine that refused to die.
Exhale.
The sound was half relief, half disbelief.
For a long second, he didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't even think, just stared blankly, his brain was still buffering reality.
Then, slowly, like a half-corrupted file trying to reload, the memories started coming back… fragmented, glitchy, and completely out of order.
And with that, he finally remembered who he was. Where he was. And most importantly…what the hell was happening.
He looked at the roof above him with a complicated expression, because it was not concrete or plaster, instead it was all straw and hay.
A thatched roof, uneven and patched like it was built by someone drunk. Sunlight entered through the window like openings in the walls, warm and golden, landing across his sweaty face.
Suddenly, he frowned, and a helpless expression etched on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching like he couldn't decide if he should laugh or panic.
"...You've really got to be kidding me."
He muttered as he didn't know whether to say it was his good luck or bad luck. Even though he had a bit of inkling, but when it was really confirmed, It still felt so absurd that for a second, he genuinely thought this was some post-death fever dream.
But no… everything felt too real. The rough bedding scratching his skin, the faint smell of ash and dirt, the slow hum of insects outside, everything was undoubtedly real.
He tried to sit up, but every bone in his body protested, making his face pale with pain.
So he gave up and tried to feel his new body, as his body felt really different. Lighter and weirdly raw…like a system reboot running on new hardware.
He took another breath, stared at his trembling hands, and finally let out a small, shaky laugh.
"Guess I really respawned."
Anyway, his name is Sol… just Sol, nothing else. No last name. No middle name, just a short, simple word that apparently meant sun, as his parents said that he looked like a little sun when he was born. Bright. Warm. Full of life.
And wanted the sun to bless him, protect him, guide him. So they simply named him Sol, meaning sun.
Yes, the names in this era are just so casual.
Cute story.
But at least the name was good enough.
And as you already know, our boy here is a proud transmigrator. Yes, that same cliché trope.
Not that it's something rare or to be proud of anymore… honestly, it's about as impressive as owning a cracked phone, embarrassing but still usable. Because transmigrators these days are as rare as roadside, exactly, they are fucking everywhere, every second novel has a transmigrator these days. In fact, whole libraries of web novels are filled with them.
Every third protagonist wakes up with divine bloodlines, infinite systems, or ten wives waiting in line for his reincarnated ass. It's gotten so bad that half the readers like you just close the tab the moment they see the words "I woke up in another world."
But still… here he is.
Another one. Another poor bastard who died in the dumbest way possible and somehow got isekai'd instead of deleted.
The real kicker though?
It's not the reincarnation part.
It's where he ended up.
Because this isn't one of those fancy "magical kingdoms" or "sci-fi empires" settings where you wake up as a noble or a prince or even a peasant with a system or some absurd cheat.
No.
He got sent to a primitive world.
And not the "ah yes, loincloths and stone huts" kind you see in lazy fantasy stories.
We're talking about prehistoric. The actual Paleolithic Era.
For those of you who skipped school or bunked out like me… that's the time when humans weren't "building nations."
They were busy trying not to get eaten by something with fur, claws, and a big ass stomach.
There could be tribes, spears, and fire… if you were lucky, and be all alone in a cave if unlucky, the life here was about hunting, bleeding, someone dying, and then repeating it all again.
There were no concrete houses, no metal, no farming, no Wi-Fi, no anime, no smut novels and no civilization, period.
Just endless prehistoric forests, towering beasts, and nature that didn't give a single damn whether you lived or died.
So yeah, "transmigrator" or not, Sol wasn't exactly feeling like a chosen one right now.
Because he wasn't reborn as a tribal chief, or some hidden genius, or even a hunter with a special system host, at least not yet, as he really hasn't heard any ding.