Kael Virell stood frozen for a few seconds, utterly stunned by the sight before him.
A few steps ahead, the scorching sand abruptly stopped—cut clean by an eerie, bluish-white surface of frost. The two opposing worlds stood side by side: blistering desert and glacial stillness, divided by no visible barrier. And yet, the sand didn't dare trespass onto the ice.
It defied logic. Defied nature. Defied everything he thought made sense in this strange, otherworldly place.
"Wow… Is this magic?" Kael whispered, breath fogging in the cooler air. Awe clung to his voice like dew on glass.
But the wonder didn't last long. After all, he had transmigrated into a world where three moons hovered in the sky like silent watchers. Compared to that, an unnatural patch of ice in the middle of a desert? Practically mundane.
Driven by thirst and heat-induced delirium, Kael didn't hesitate. He dashed forward onto the icy terrain, eyes lighting up at the sight of a crystal-clear pool ahead—deep enough for a proper drink, and maybe more.
His feet struck the frost, but he didn't stumble—not even a wobble. Of course, he didn't. Did the universe truly think the number one ice dancer back on Earth would slip like an amateur?
Kael skated across the icy ground with grace so effortless, it looked choreographed. He zigzagged like a swan weaving across a frozen lake, leaving trails behind him as his boots slid smoothly across the slick surface.
Within seconds, he reached the water. And then—
"Water! Finally, water! Laozi is saved!" he cried out in bliss, collapsing to his knees and plunging his face directly into the pool.
He drank greedily, letting the cool liquid flood his mouth, throat, and chest. He didn't care if it was salty, metallic, or laced with god-knows-what. Hell, if it were a puddle of mud, he might have kissed it and gulped it down the same.
"Ahhh…" he sighed in ecstasy, lifting his dripping face. "Whoever said humans can survive three days without water was lying. I almost died after a few hours!"
Water droplets trailed down his face, mingling with dust and yellow sand, carving temporary rivers across his grime-caked cheeks. Once his thirst dulled from agony to satisfaction, he scrubbed at his face and tugged at his tangled hair, trying to restore some semblance of humanity.
But then—
A sound reached his ears.
Crrrkk—
It was jagged. A scraping noise, like rusted iron dragged across stone. Or the screech of wheels rolling over gravel. Faint but near.
Kael froze. Not from the cold.
From instinct.
Then he felt it.
A breath.
Hot, foul, and wet—blowing against the nape of his neck. His stomach twisted.
It reeked of rot, of spoiled meat and sulfur and something… ancient.
Kael's heart thundered. Not again. Not this soon. He clenched his fists, already knowing.
There was something behind him.
And it was close.
He turned slowly, neck creaking like a rusty hinge. His wide, pale brown eyes reflected the abomination behind him.
If terror had a face—it would look like that.
The creature towered above him, with a set of jagged, dagger-like teeth too long to belong in any sane mouth. Its feline-like slit pupils glowed faintly beneath ridged brows, and its breath came in wheezing huffs that rattled his ribs.
But its body—that was the worst part.
It was… a fish.
No—a tuna.
A bloated, fleshy tuna body. With four powerful, muscled legs sprouting where fins should be. And tiny T-Rex arms flailing uselessly near its gills.
Kael stared, slack-jawed.
"What… the actual… hell…"
For one surreal moment, he wondered if he'd wandered into a prehistoric cooking experiment.
Then, without warning—
The creature lunged.
Its gaping maw shot toward his face like a missile.
Kael twisted to the side on reflex, just barely avoiding the bite. His boots slid against the ice as he surged to his feet.
His body moved before his brain caught up. Years of training kicked in.
He skated.
"Oh sh*t! What the hell is that thing?!" he screamed, dodging left. "Thank the heavens for my flexibility, or my head would've been on its dinner plate!"
He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see the monster stumbling on its awkward legs.
But no.
It flopped onto its belly—lay flat—and began swimming across the ice.
Like water.
And it worked.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
It was fast.
Faster than him.
Faster than anything that size should be allowed to move.
Kael pumped his arms, heart pounding in his ears. "How is that position even physically possible?! Doesn't your spine hurt? Is your ass—IS YOUR ASS—just DRAGGING ON ICE?!"
He skated like his life depended on it—because it did.
The air rushed past his ears, frost biting his cheeks. His muscles screamed from exhaustion, the sun's damage now catching up to him. His movements grew sloppy.
Then—
Crack.
His foot slipped. His knee twisted just a hair too far.
He crashed to the ground, rolling hard. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. His vision blurred with tears of pain.
Don't say real men don't cry. Because right now—Kael cried.
His beautifully long lashes clung with moisture. He gasped, lifting his face just in time to see the beast closing in—mouth open, rows of serrated teeth glinting in the cold light.
His freshly washed black hair clung to his forehead, ink-dark and soaked, trailing water like ink in a shattered scroll. In that moment, with death mere inches away, he looked hauntingly beautiful—a fallen star in the jaws of oblivion.
But Kael wasn't thinking about beauty.
He was thinking about survival.
The sarcasm, the fire, the defiance—all snuffed out. What remained was a raw, trembling soul. One who had lived, hoped, bled, and now stood on the edge of annihilation.
He couldn't even scream anymore.
His lips quivered. His heart throbbed.
Then, as the jaws descended, Kael shouted into the void.
"I DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE NO GODS IN THIS WORLD! EVEN IF IT'S A DEMON—PLEASE! SAVE ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"
His voice cracked. A primal plea from a soul on the brink.
He shut his eyes tight.
The beast lunged.
A breath.
A shadow.
A spark.
And then—
Silence.