The city of Nam Vuong bathed in the blazing red hue of dusk. Towering buildings cast long shadows on the dusty streets, where honking horns echoed through the hurried crowds. Amid that chaos, Lam Da—a pale, tired young man in his twenties with long bangs covering his forehead—walked quietly, as if he belonged to another world.
He stopped in front of an antique market hidden in a narrow alleyway. The shop sign was so faded that the letters were barely visible. A weathered wind chime hanging by the door rang softly in the evening breeze.
Inside, an old man with a hunched back sat behind the counter, his cloudy eyes still piercing like they could see through anyone. In front of him was a strange object: a black spiral-shaped jade, its dim glow flickering like a slowly turning vortex.
> "What is this?" Lam Da asked, unable to take his eyes off the stone.
> "What you see in it… is your fate," the old man replied, his voice rough like desert wind.
Lam Da didn't know why, but he felt drawn to it. A strange tremor stirred in his chest the moment his gaze met the jade. It was as if something inside the stone was calling out to him.
Less than ten minutes later, he stepped out of the shop with the jade tucked in his jacket pocket, his mind still adrift in a strange trance.
As he crossed a construction site, a voice shouted:
> "Watch out!!"
Before he could react, a thunderous crash erupted — "BANG!!"
Steel and debris plummeted from above like the scythe of death.
Everything went black.
When light returned... Lam Da found himself lying in the middle of a crimson forest, under a sky with two moons hanging silently above.
> "Where... am I…?"
His chest was warm, as if a strange heat flowed through his heart...
The red light from the unfamiliar sky bathed the forest in a haunting glow. Towering trees with grayish-purple leaves twisted like demonic hands. Roots coiled above ground like massive veins, pulsing with life.
No more traffic.
No more people.
Only wind rustling through leaves—and eerie calls from unknown creatures.
Lam Da opened his eyes. A stabbing pain, like a hundred needles, pierced his temples. He groaned and sat up, his hand instinctively pressing against his chest.
> "Where's the jade...?"
His jacket pocket was empty. But under his skin—right where he touched—there was a lingering warmth, as if something had embedded itself inside.
Oddly… he could breathe more easily than before.
> "Where... am I?" he murmured.
Trying to recall what happened—only disjointed fragments surfaced. A street. A loud noise. A flash of light. Then… pain.
> "I'm not dead… but this sure as hell isn't a hospital."
He stood up. The grass and moss beneath his feet glowed faintly. The air carried a metallic scent mixed with herbs—strange yet pleasant. A nearby tree trunk felt cold, damp, and covered in a slick, slightly fishy slime. He jerked his hand away.
> "Shit… This isn't a dream."
Though disoriented, he remained calm. Survival instinct had begun to take hold.
Minutes later, he climbed a small slope, pushing through glittering thorny bushes. Ahead was a clear stream, reflecting the red sky like living glass.
Lam Da bent down, about to take a sip—
"Gurgle… gurgle…"
The water suddenly boiled! A bizarre creature surged up from the depths: long and slimy, scales like snake skin, bulging blood-red eyes, and a mouth filled with hook-like teeth.
> "What the hell—?!"
The thing lunged at him like a dart!
Reflexively, he jumped back—just as—
"Thwip!"
An arrow sliced through the air, piercing the creature's eye. It screeched, twitched violently, then sank back into the water, leaving behind a trail of blood swirling like red ink.
Lam Da turned—
A girl emerged from the trees.
Her hair was ash-red, tied high. A large bow rested on her shoulder. Eyes sharp as a hawk's, and she wore beast hides like a hunter.
She spoke—
But he couldn't understand a word.
Just then, the warmth in his chest flared—the jade? He clutched his chest—and suddenly… he understood what she had just said:
> "Where did you come from?"
His mouth moved on its own:
> "I… I don't know."
She froze, hand reaching for another arrow, her eyes wary. But after a moment, her gaze softened. Maybe she sensed that he was too weak—or too lost—to be a threat.
The forest wind whispered through the red canopy, howling like ancient voices.
The huntress—still not fully trusting—gestured for Lam Da to follow.
He hesitated, then took a step after her, his shirt clinging cold and wet to his skin, drenched from sweat and the stream.