Javier's voice echoed in his head as he found himself once again trapped in an endless void of darkness. But the Nephilim appeared just in time to bring him back to his senses.
"––Am I dead?"
"Yes, you are... deceased. Your body has been removed from the streets and buried in a cemetery. That is how your life ended."
"––I see."
He looked down at his arms, wondering if they were real. To test them, he tried to touch one with the other—but his hands phased through each other, like two ghosts attempting to embrace and failing.
The Nephilim spoke first, their voice serene.
"Now that you have died, you are to grant two wishes—for yourself. As always, I will wait for your decision. You may also choose to walk away with no wishes at all, or only one."
"Alright, alright. I've got it now—whatever."
He was contemplating his decision: should he make a wish, or remain alone with none at all? Eventually, he narrowed it down to two paths—the easy route or the hard one. Everyone would surely choose the easier option, as it was always the go-to choice recommended in every novel and comic he had ever read. Yet the hard route sparked his mind like a scientist uncovering a new species of microorganism. To him, it represented an opportunity to redeem himself—enduring the harshest trials now to be rewarded with vast resources later in the game, potentially far more than what the nephilim had promised for the easy path.
"I know what I will choose now."
The nephilim's curiosity was piqued. She summoned three buttons before him: the red one granted two wishes, the blue one granted one wish, and the green one offered no wishes at all. Without hesitation, he made his choice and pressed a button himself.
The room flooded with light like sun-drenched green pastures. He had pressed the green button—no wishes, only pure survival in another world.
The nephilim was surprised by his decision and double-checked, asking him one last time.
"Are you sure?..."
"Yes. I am."
He didn't nod—instead, his voice carried a calm seriousness unlike anything she'd heard from him before. His face was set with unwavering determination, he had chosen this path with no intention of turning back.
"Alright then. You will keep your original form and physicality from Earth—no extraordinary buffs or debuffs. Just an above-average human being."
She spoke her final words in a serene tone as the room began to dissolve slowly around them.
"Wish you good luck, dear human."
Then, he suddenly woke up in the middle of a deep forest—his clothes and skin dusted with leaves and moss. He pushed himself up from the ground, scanning every direction the moment he was upright, taking in countless unfamiliar sights around him: strange mushrooms, and unbelievably large trees—easily twice the size of a normal spruce.
"...They're gigantic."
Looking up at the trees before him, he steadied himself and set off on his adventure, his expression sharp with awareness. He couldn't shake the worry that something might be lurking in the shadows of the woods—or worse, that a predator could be closing in on him before he'd even had a chance to prepare.
"I'll have to craft some tools first, before I even think about venturing near the forest's more dangerous areas..."
He moved carefully between the trees, staying low as new species crossed his path at every turn: massive lions with coats unlike any on Earth, enormous arthropods scuttling through the undergrowth, and countless other creatures roaming the vast woodland where he now found himself.
He gathered sturdy sticks and smooth stones from the ground, planning to fashion tools much as his ancestors once did—but first, he needed something to bind them together. By chance, he spotted lengths of rope and rubber lying discarded on the dirt, caked with grime and tangled with unknown sticky substances. Nearby was a shallow pool of surprisingly clear water; he drank deeply before using it to scrub the materials clean.
Next, he set out to find a suitable stone for shaping. Luck was with him again—he located a perfect one just minutes later. For an hour, he worked to sharpen its edge until it was keen enough to cut through flesh and bone, given enough force. He drove a thin wooden stake into the ground as a base, placed the sharpened stone on top, and left a small pointed protrusion on the stick to secure the bindings. It took him two to three hours of careful work to finish, but at last, he held his first tool in this new world.
"Finally... education really was the best."
He set out to hunt and gather what he could, spending hours examining the mushrooms that dotted the forest floor. Drawing on knowledge from the countless books he'd studied about this new world, he worked to create a mental checklist to tell the toxic varieties apart from the safe ones.
He soon observed a pattern: poisonous mushrooms bore distinct circles on their caps, while non-toxic ones had none. On rare occasions, the safe kinds even featured subtle stripes—and these, he discovered, provided minor temporary buffs to his body. Only one such striped mushroom grew nearby, but identifying it was a breakthrough.
Sorting through the fungi took nearly a full day, but the effort was worth it. He took a calculated risk and ate one of the circle-free mushrooms—it was bitter to the taste, but far better than facing starvation in the unforgiving wild.
"Now that I've mapped out the immediate area, I suppose the next step is just to survive... though I need some sleep first..."
He laid out the large leaves he'd gathered, arranging them to serve as both a soft mattress and a barrier against the damp, mossy ground. Then he settled in and slept soundly, his mind finally clear of worry.
When noon came, he jolted awake at the sound of rustling bushes. He sprang to his feet in an instant, gripping his tool tightly as he scanned the surrounding foliage with a wary expression.
"Who goes there?!"