I find myself probably nestled somewhere deep within the heart of the jungle. The towering trees form a thick canopy overhead, their leaves whispering secrets to one another in the gentle breeze. God, where am I, and how on earth will I ever find my way out of this vast, untamed wilderness? The tranquility here is profound, an almost tangible serenity that wraps around me like a comforting blanket. Yet, there’s an unsettling edge to this solitude—it’s undeniably scary to be alone, isn’t it? Despite this, I feel a warmth spreading through me, a sense of relief that I’ve finally escaped into a realm that feels far more magical than the everyday world.

As I gaze upward, the sky peeks through the foliage in patches of brilliant blue, while the vibrant tapestry of nature unfolds around me. I am in awe of its beauty, the symphony of birds and the rustle of unseen creatures adding to the enchantment. And yet, amidst this wonder, I can’t help but ponder—what will my life become in this strange, new world? There’s a thrill that accompanies the fear, an intense curiosity about what lies ahead. I’m scared, yes, but also deeply intrigued. What will become of me in this captivating place?

As I am caught in my thoughts, both admiring the happenings around me and questioning what lies ahead, I am suddenly overwhelmed by the unsettling sensation of being watched from afar. A chill creeps along my spine, yet I don’t feel frightened . It’s not because I think I’m strong or knowledgeable. Instead, I think of nothing, know nothing, feel nothing. My mind and body are numb, as if I’m waiting for fate to decide my next move.

I have nothing for anyone to take… the only thing I possess at the moment is my body. But… I don’t want to move, not yet. Let me stay here and process my thoughts first.

Everything seems to unfold so rapidly, leaving me breathless. I struggle to recall the last moments I shared with my parents in the world I once lived… nor do I remember the moment I plunged into the lake.

I’m immobilized by my own numbness. Who can pull me out of this? I don’t mind being watched from a distance; perhaps I even long for that person to help guide me through this fog of confusion. Exhaustion weighs me down, and a creeping chill begins to seep in, though the sunlight wards off the frost.

I feel lost, unsure of where to go or what to do next. Is there any way to return to what once was?

I question myself, glancing around in search of anyone nearby, but find only solitude. It’s absurd, isn’t it? To feel a gaze that seems to vanish into thin air. Am I merely imagining things? Suddenly, …

“So…. you have finally woken up, Athene?…” A voice like rough silk emerged from above—a man’s voice, weathered by time but not yet elderly, carrying notes of amusement and something darker beneath.

I whirled around, neck craning upward to find its source. There, perched on the gnarled oak branch fifteen feet above, sat a figure cloaked entirely in midnight.

One muscular leg dangled carelessly over the edge, swinging with hypnotic rhythm while the other anchored him firmly to his perch. His crossed arms revealed gloved hands, each finger wrapped in supple leather worn smooth at the fingertips. The man’s tunic, black as a starless night, hugged his torso but billowed slightly at the chest and arms, allowing for swift, silent movement. At his wrists, meticulously wound strips of cloth ensured not even the whisper of fabric would betray his presence. His trousers, loose around powerful thighs but tapering to his calves, were secured with intricate ties that prevented any telltale flutter. A wide sash encircled his waist, its elaborate knot hidden from view, festooned with bulging pouches containing who-knew-what secrets.

The hilts of various weapons—daggers with jeweled pommels, a curved sword with worn leather wrapping, and what appeared to be some brass-fitted mechanical pistol—protruded just enough to promise swift violence.

His face remained half-hidden beneath the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a single crimson feather that caught the light when he tilted his head. He was neither pirate nor ninja alone, but something more dangerous: a perfect hybrid predator watching me with eyes I could feel but couldn’t quite see.

Who the hell are you?