The first thing he felt was a terrible, searing pain that encompassed his entire body.
It travelled down his spine, stopping at each and every vertebrae deliberately, trying its hardest to make Hill scream. But he couldn't. His eyes snapped open, and instead of seeing the trial arena and its ghastly surroundings, he saw a blur of distant lights shooting past him in the blink of an eye.
He tried to gasp for air, but found that he couldn't even open his mouth. Looking down at himself, his eyes widened further as he realized his body was tumbling through outer space at a speed that made no sense whatsoever.
And even worse, his body wasn't... full. His arms and legs were merely stumps, growing outward in painful pulses that threatened to knock him unconscious.
Wha— What is th—
Thoughts couldn't be finished. Each painful throb seemed to grow worser than the last.
He began screaming internally as he shot through space.
Why the hell am I conscious!? Why? WHY!?
The lights streaking past him began to multiply. Stars, maybe — or something that looked like stars — clustering thicker as the pain crested in waves that wiped his mind clean between one moment and the next. His fingers were forming now, and he could feel each one individually, which was somehow worse than feeling nothing at all.
Tendon after tendon pulled taut, knuckles seated themselves, nails pressed outward through newly formed skin.
He would've thrown up, but his mouth wasn't fully formed.
Just pass out, he begged himself. Come on. Pass out. You've done it before. Just—
Pain demolished his thoughts before he could finish them.
He was moving faster now. The streaking lights had blurred into solid bands of light. The cold biting at his sides became a pressure pressing into his body from all sides.
He looked ahead.
There was a light. A different one from the rest. It wasn't distant and scattered like the rest, but a concentrated mass of radiance. It was round, enormous, and growing fast. The bands of light converging toward it like the spokes of a wheel.
Oh no.
He couldn't brace. His body wasn't finished forming. But every surviving instinct he had fired at once, and his half-formed arms flew up in front of his face anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut, and—
Nothing.
There wasn't an impact or a sound.
It was just white... and then...
Darkness, followed by the smell of damp earth.
It was the first thing that Hill felt after entering that enormous light. It was rich, damp, and somewhat warm against his cheek. His fingers twitched and found grass beneath them. A strange feeling due to the fact that he lived in a concrete jungle his entire life.
Unlike the turf that he was used to, these blades were thin, slightly waxy, and cool to the touch.
Hill didn't move for a long moment. He simply lay there with his eyes closed, conducting a quiet, exhausted survey of his own body.
Spine: present. Legs: both there, though in a whole lot of pain. Arms: definitely there. Fingers: ten.
Thank goodness.
He opened his eyes, and what he saw confused him beyond anything he'd ever seen.
Because he lived in a city his entire life, he didn't recognize the gigantic leaves overhead until he saw the tree branches that connected to them. They were lengthy, heavy-looking, and a healthy green.
Hill sat up slowly, his eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness. Around him, he noticed the faint outlines of trees in every direction. His eyes narrowed.
Is this a... forest?
It had to be. There were so many trees, after all.
But, there was off about it.
Unlike all the tree species that he'd seen — which weren't many in number — these trees were a dark purple. Even stranger, there were patches of bioluminescent moss that coated the trees, giving off dim green light that barely illuminated the surroundings.
Diluted beams of what seemed like sunlight pierced through small openings in the canopy, but as Hill stood and walked underneath one particular beam, he noticed it didn't feel warm.
The ground was incredibly treacherous. Due to the scarcity of light, Hill was unable to see the various rocks and wooden spikes that littered the ground. His heel grazed one spike, nearly severing his skin in the process.
"Agh!" He grabbed at his heel gingerly, and then let out a loud gasp.
I—I'm naked!
Feeling embarrassed, he covered himself using a fallen leaf. There wasn't anyone watching, but he felt that he needed to anyway—
The heavy whuff of an animal's exhale came from the shadows behind him.
He whipped around, his eyes narrowing on the shape of what appeared to be a hog of some kind. It had two beady eyes, a striped canvas of dark fur, and a rugged snout.
However, it had a horn. A very lengthy horn at that. If Hill had to describe it, it was like the horn of a unicorn.
The animal stomped its hooves and let out an ominous rumbling sound.
Hill didn't move.
His experience in dealing with hostiles had taught him one thing: Don't panic. And while it seemed hypocritical considering how he moved in the soul trial, Hill wasn't going to let something like that happen again.
He held the leaf in front of himself, which, in retrospect, was not a useful thing to be holding.
But it had its uses.
The hog's nostrils flared. It took one step forward, causing the ground to shudder from its weight.
Okay, he thought, eyes scanning the ground without moving his head. Okay. Weapon. Find a weapon.
The ground was littered with them, as it turned out. He'd already nearly lost a heel to the wooden spikes jutting up through the earth, seemingly originating from exposed tree roots. A few feet to his left, a rock sat half-buried in the moss. It was flat on one side, jagged on the other. Not too large large. About the size of both his fists together.
The hog stamped again, lowering its head. The horn angled toward him like a compass needle finding north.
It's going to charge.
He waited, watching the animal's haunches bunch as it prepared to launch itself forward.
The second it moved, Hill moved too.
He dove left as quickly as he could while tossing the large leaf right at the hog, causing the horn to impale the leaf which flopped over its face and obscured its vision, causing its charge to extend further than expected.
Hill didn't wait for it to recover. As the animal thrashed around in order to displace the leaf, Hill dropped to a knee and snatched the rock from the ground.
Then, with a swift exhale, he charged at the hog. By the time the hog managed to get rid of the leaf, it was way too late. Stone dug into its skull with a hollow crack. It squealed, drawing away in order to create distance. But Hill didn't allow it, he raised the rock and brought it down hard behind the animal's ear.
It lurched. He brought it down again and again.
On the sixth strike, the screaming stopped. The hog went limp beneath him, its legs cycling once before going still.
Hill stayed still for a moment in order to catch his breath, the blood-soaked rock still in his fist. Then, he grabbed the horn and began hammering away at it with the rock. It was surprisingly durable, so much so that the rock sustained major damage just by hitting it. Once the horn gave away, he wasted no time in attempting to skin the animal with it.
He'd never done it before, but he wasn't worried about carving up an animal. Plenty of dead bodies had extinguished that fire of innocence.
Raising the horn with a heavy breath, he stabbed it into the hog's flank...
...and saw a series of runes flash before his eyes.
[You have slain a Burrowhorn]
He yanked back so fast the horn nearly flew out of his grip.
"What the hell?"
The runic letters hung there for a second or two and then vanished. Hill stared at the empty spot, breathing heavily. Then, with a manic expression crossing his face, he stabbed the carcass again.
"Come on, do it again!"
But nothing happened. He withdrew the bloody horn and let out a sigh, his mind racing.
How strange is that? It was like a pop-up advertisement… except in real life somehow! He froze. Is this even real life though? What the hell is going on!?
He hadn't had much opportunity to play any video games or use the internet when he was younger, but the pop-up concept reminded him of those two things. It was awfully disturbing due to how unnatural it was. Yet he couldn't question it.
The pain that he had experienced mere moments ago was something that couldn't possibly occur in a dream. It was so vivid, so severe, and so raw. He would've woken up if that was the case. This had to be reality of some kind; he just wasn't sure what exactly defined it.
The surrounding forest made no sense whatsoever. The hog he just killed — now called a Burrowhorn according to the runes — made no sense either. It was a species that definitely didn't exist, at least on Earth.
So what is going on? he asked himself, deciding to ponder the issue as he began skinning the hog. Is this… not Earth? I mean, that trial arena and that… host… felt so alien-like.
It has to be some other place, right?
Despite all his questions, there was only so much material he could go off of.
He worked in silence after that, forcing his hands to keep moving even while his brain spun in circles. The horn was sharper than it looked, and it certainly behaved that way once he got the angle right. He sliced along the belly first, and then worked the hide free in slow but steady pulls.
He'd skinned stray dogs and worse just to eat; this wasn't any different. Just another dead thing giving him what he needed to keep going. He peeled off the biggest section he could manage and laid it flat on a patch of moss. The wrap went around his waist twice for good measure. He knotted it tight, testing the hold by shifting his weight before knotting it again when it started to slip.
It chafed against his skin and stank like hell, but it was better than walking around naked in some… unknown place.
He was adjusting the knot one last time, cursing under his breath about how ridiculous this all was, when something violently slammed down onto his shoulders.
His knees buckled, causing him to fall face first against the ground. Steel pressed cold against his throat before he could even utter a sound. His arms were quickly subdued by a single, small rough palm. Delicate-feeling fingers pressed into his wrists like steel wires, and the weight against his back made breathing all the more harder.
A girl's voice snarled hot against his ear, whispering threatening words.
But he couldn't understand what was being said. It was some foreign language. One that he'd never heard before.
He thrashed side to side, attempting to free himself, but the steel angled sharp against the skin of his neck. A manic giggle escaped his lips as he realized he couldn't escape without being cut.
"Alright! Okay. I give up. I surrender." He wheezed, forcing his breaths in manually. "Get off me!"
The steel at his throat eased half an inch. He felt her freeze against his back. Then, in clear, angry Peridian, she hissed, "You speak Peridian?"
"Yeah, I speak it! What gave it away—the part where I told you to get off me in it? Now let go before I suffocate—"
"Name," she cut in. "Give it to me. Right now."
"Hill. That's my name. Yours?"
She ignored the question. The blade at his throat stayed exactly where it was. "Where did you come from?"
Hill frowned. "Agshaka. You know, the capital of Edonesia."
Her weight shifted slightly, but the blade didn't move. One of her eyes—he caught just the edge when he twisted his head sideways—flashed a sudden, violent emerald green that lit up the moss in front of his face like a signal flare. The glow pulsed once, then faded back to plain black. Hill's heart began pounding hard.
What was that? What was that? What the HELL was that?
"How long ago did you cross?"
Hill blinked dirt out of his eyes. "Cross? Cross what? A river? A road? Lady, I don't even know where the hell I am. I woke up here after tumbling through space with half my body still growing back. What are you even asking me?"
The emerald flashed again, brighter this time. She leaned in until her breath sounded like roaring wind in his ear. "Don't play stupid with me. How long ago?"
"I'm not playing anything! I just got here! Cross what? You have to give me something here!"
Her grip on his hair tightened, yanking his head back so he could see her face properly. She had black hair that seemed to be hacked short and uneven. She wore plain dull-blue clothes patched at the elbows and stained with grime, and her expression looked like she was deciding whether to kill him now or later. "Answer me straight or I open your throat and leave you here. How long?"
"I am answering straight! I don't know what you mean by cross! I died, I went through some cage trial with a timer, tried to kill myself with the irregular, and then everything went white and painful. After that it's just screaming through outer space until I woke up on the ground. That's all I've got. What more do you want?"
A frustrated growl tore out of her. The steel pressed harder until the skin under his jaw split. "The soul trial. How long ago did you finish the soul trial, you idiot?"
Hill's brain stuttered. "I… maybe half an hour?"
The emerald glow drained from the girl's eyes. She let out a sharp exhale through her nose and finally eased the steel off his throat. She stood up quickly, hauling him up by the back of his bloody wrap so it didn't fall completely before turning him around.
Seeing her up close, Hill couldn't believe that this skinny lady was the one who could've ended his life just now. She was just as frail as he was, but for whatever reason, he had a feeling he could never hold a candle to her in a fight.
Her glowing eyes… that's gotta be it.
The supernatural phenomena that he'd just witnessed coming from a seemingly human girl was the only explanation he could mount. She had superpowers... or something of that nature. It was undeniable at this point.
Why else would her eyes flash like that?
The steel that the girl had pressed against his neck turned out to be the blade of an onyx dagger. She had two of them, but she kept one in the sheath at her hip. The other one remained pointed at his chest.
Clearly, she did not trust him at all.
"Follow me," she spat, motioning for Hill to follow as she started walking. "We're going to the Krugenhold."
Hill frowned, hurrying after her while trying to keep the wrap from slipping. "I—wha—I mean, sure, but… what exactly is the Krugenhold?"
There was no way he was going to argue against her commands. Not when she was carrying lethal weapons.
Ashen stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around, an unpleasant smile crossing her face. "It's where we earthlings live."
"Oh, I see." Hill replied. "Can I ask you another question?"
"No."
"Okay. So basically—wait, what? Why not?"
Ashen chuckled and raised her hand, her index finger pointing accusingly towards his face. More specifically, his crimson eyes.
"We have a little human lie detector over there. So, when we get there, we'll see if you were really telling the truth about everything."
"What!?" Hill exclaimed, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What would I be lying about? Why can't you trust me?"
"Do you know why I said 'earthlings'?"
"No."
"It's because there are other humans roaming this forest. Humans that are native to this planet… and hostile to us."
Hill's eyes widened. "W-What?" He pointed around. "You mean, there are... aliens here?"
Ashen burst out into laughter. "Ha! 'Aliens,' he says!" Her face suddenly settled into neutrality. "We are the aliens here. Not them." She pressed two fingers against his forehead. "And guess what? Some of them have red eyes. Just. Like. Yours."