Barion sneezed. It was loud enough that a few heads turned.
The classroom was mid-lecture, sunlight spilling through the windows in long rectangles, dust particles could be seen in the air through light. Barion barely had time to raise his hand for apology. But after he opened his eyes from sneezing, he found himself standing instead of sitting on desk. Then cold hit him.
Barion gasped, his hands slamming against something rough and damp for support. The smell of earth flooded his senses, sharp and raw.
Massive, twisted trees stretched upward, their bark dark and scarred, their branches choking the sky. Fog crawled low across the forest floor, curling around roots and stones. The air was heavy, oppressive, and unnaturally silent.
Barion froze,This is not a classroom. His heart pounded like a locomotive express, but his mind did not scatter. He pushed himself upright slowly, forcing his breathing to steady. Sensation registered piece by piece. The weird dress clinging on his body, The weight distribution of his limbs. The way his balance felt slightly off, as if the center of his body had shifted.
He looked down,These were not his hands.
The fingers were longer. The skin tone slightly different. Small scars marked the knuckles in places he did not remember earning any. His sleeves were coarse fabric, not cotton. His shoes were worn leather, not sneakers.
Barion swallowed and looked around and thought to himself 'These clothes, this trees, i know all and every trees, but the fuck i never saw or read about these. Also this shits not my handsome body.'
The conclusion formed without panic, without denial. Transmigration. 'Holy i have been transmigrated, transmigrated from what, because i sneezed.'
The word surfaced not as fantasy, but as classification. His awareness had not reset. His thoughts were continuous. His sense of self intact. Only the vessel had changed.
He turned slowly, scanning his surroundings.
Forest was dense and every trees was old. The species were unfamiliar, yet his mind supplied fragmented information. Leaf structures weird compared to Earth flora. Trunk growth patterns suggesting accelerated nutrient cycles. Fungal networks visible above ground, which was biologically inefficient for terrestrial ecosystems.
He had already accepted that this was not Earth. The realization settled in quietly. Barion did not waste time thinking about how to go back.
If he had been brought here without consent, forcibly and without preparation, then denial was useless. Wanting to return meant nothing without leverage or information. Emotion would come later. Right now, survival came first.
He flexed his fingers again, testing responsiveness. The body obeyed, but sluggishly. The movements felt delayed, like operating machinery he had never trained on.
No memory surfaced. No foreign thoughts. No name attached to this body.
'Good' he thought distantly. 'At least I'm not sharing my head.'
A sound cut through the forest. Hissing, Barion's muscles tensed instantly.
The sound was wrong in every sense for him. He turned toward the direction of the sound slowly, but already backing away from the sound.
The fog shifted, suddenly two enormous headed serpents slid into view, their bodies thick and blood-red, scales glistening as if coated in oil. The creature had two heads branching from a single neck, and between them sat a vertical third eye embedded in the flesh, glowing faintly amber.
The smell hit him a second later, rotting, disgusted sulfur foul smell. Barion's breath caught.
His fear was immediate, ripping through his chest before logic could fully engage. His scalp prickled, vision narrowing as adrenaline surged.
'No, noo for fucks sake no.'
He did not analyze their anatomy further. He did not estimate combat potential. He did not consider weapons.
Because he did not know what they could do. As he already figured that he was transmigrated, he knew there might be a chance that these snakes would not be ordinary. Fight was suicide as he didn't have the body's memories to use efficiently even though he had many skills from Earth.
Now the option was, Run. It was survival. Barion turned and ran.
But his body responded poorly, as already he didn't have memories to use the body efficiently.
His mind issued commands his muscles could not execute cleanly. His stride was uneven, his breathing off rhythm. He nearly stumbled as his foot caught on an exposed root.
His heart hammered painfully as he forced himself forward, branches tearing at his sleeves, leaves slapping his face. Behind him, the sound of heavy bodies sliding over earth grew closer, punctuated by piercing screeches that made his ears ring.
'If this were my old body' he thought grimly, 'I would have been faster.'
But this was not his old body.
There was no muscle memory to rely on. No ingrained reflexes. Every movement had to be consciously adjusted, corrected in real time.
He burst through a wall of hanging vines and skidded to a stop.
A cave entrance yawned before him, half-hidden by stone and moss. Cold air spilled out, carrying a stench so foul it made his stomach churn.
Barion hesitated, Caves were never safe. But the snakes were closer now. Too close. 'For god's sake.' He dove inside.
The temperature dropped sharply as darkness swallowed him. The ground sloped downward, forcing him to brace against the walls to keep from falling. His breath echoed loudly, uneven and harsh.
Then he saw them, Bones. Human skeletons littered the cave floor, some broken, some still wearing rusted armor. Weapons lay scattered and shattered, embedded in stone or abandoned beside corpses long since stripped of flesh.
His foot brushed against something soft. He looked down and nearly gagged at the sight of bloated carcasses split open, crawling with pale insects.
At the center of the cave stood a sword.
It was embedded in a stone pedestal, pristine and untouched by decay. Faint runes traced its blade, glowing softly like a slow pulse.
Barion stared at it. 'Something is wrong here.'
The hissing echoed behind him.
He turned as the snakes slithered into the cave, their red scales reflecting the sword's glow. Their eyes locked onto him.
Cornered.
Barion's grip tightened unconsciously as his gaze flicked between the sword and the approaching monsters.
'I need information, I need time. And right now, I fucking need to live.' He went towards the sword to grab it.
To be continued==>