Darkness.
Not like night—
But like the time before night was ever born.
No sound.
No wind, no heartbeat, no breath.
Just silence.
And in that void...
Arthur opened his eyes.
He wasn't sure if he had actually opened them,
or simply realized he was no longer asleep.
His vision was clouded—
a mist swirling like smoke from an ancient candle,
soft hues of blue and violet blending like watercolor on wet paper.
Then came the feeling.
Cold.
Wet.
And the ground beneath him—rough, solid, real.
He gasped his first breath.
The air sliced into his lungs like a blade.
"Ahgh...!"
His body coughed violently.
His throat was dry, but the world around him slowly took shape.
Above, an unfamiliar night sky stretched wide,
twin full moons glowing quietly.
Towering trees loomed like the bones of giants,
and the mossy earth swallowed the starlight in silence.
He sat up, trembling.
Not from wounds—
but from the question gnawing at the edges of his mind.
My name is Arthur Muyz.
At least... that's what I remember.
Yet here he was,
awakening in a forest he'd never seen,
wearing clothes that didn't belong to him—
some kind of 12th-century coat and vest that felt completely foreign.
No people.
No time.
No sunlight.
No sound but the wind that didn't blow.
And somehow…
it all felt familiar.
He began to walk.
His steps followed a faint trail barely visible through the grass,
led only by a gentle urge deep in his mind.
The world whispered as he moved.
The wind spoke names in languages he didn't know.
Leaves shivered without reason.
And at times, he felt the earth pulsing beneath his feet—
as if it were breathing.
In the distance, a stone tower pierced through the fog,
a lone lighthouse in a sea of twilight.
Drawn to its faint glow, Arthur walked toward it.
At the base of the tower, words were carved into the gate:
"Welcome, Kingless Wanderer."
"…What does that mean?" he whispered.
No one answered.
The gate creaked open by itself.
Inside, he saw a lone figure:
a beautiful woman in a dark robe, sitting atop a pile of books and glowing charms.
Her face was hidden by shadows,
but something about her felt deeply familiar.
"You arrived sooner than I expected," the woman said,
her voice like ripples in an underground lake.
"You know me?"
"Of course not.
But this world does.
This world... remembers you, Arthur Muyz—
even if you don't know why you're here."
"…You know my name. But I don't know who you are."
"I am the keeper of the first gate.
The one who welcomes those drawn into a story that has not yet been written."
Arthur frowned. "A story?"
"This world is shaped by will...
but you come from outside its narrative.
You are a variable.
A stain on the scroll of fate."
"So what does that make me?
A cursed man?
A misplaced character?"
She smiled softly—
not warmly, but with a hint of sorrow.
"Perhaps.
Or maybe… you're just a man who wandered too far into a story.
And now, you're lost."
Silence fell again.
Arthur stood alone in the tower.
The candlelight flickered as if moved by unseen hands.
Inside him, a voice stirred.
Not some divine whisper—
but a quiet realization:
He didn't belong here.
But he refused to vanish.
And in that moment of clarity,
something appeared in the air.
A glowing symbol.
Not quite a magic circle,
but more like a broken clock made of light and fractured numbers.
In its center, a message appeared:
[SYSTEM : Scaling Locked]
Status: ????
Existence: Unknown
Arthur stared at it, saying nothing.
"Scaling...? Some kind of system?"
"Why is my status just question marks?"
"You don't fully know yourself yet," said the woman.
"Your existence hasn't been accepted by this world's laws.
But it's trying.
And before it fully absorbs you... you should ask yourself:
Why me?"
Arthur didn't answer.
That question now hung over him like the second moon above.
Why me?
Why am I here?
Why does this world feel like it's waiting... for me?
Maybe this wasn't about becoming a hero.
Maybe it wasn't about saving the world.
Maybe…
this was about seeking meaning—
from someone flung into a world not his own.
And so, his journey began.
Not to claim a throne.
Not to conquer nations.
But to understand...
why he, the one without a king,
was invited into a world ruled by crowns.
"This is the beginning of an unwritten tale," Arthur whispered.
"And I'll walk it through—until I know why I was written into it."