William dragged himself forward with his one good arm, fingers digging desperately into the wet sand as the tide lapped at his legs like it was trying to pull him back.
Every inch he gained sent a fresh spike of molten pain through his dislocated shoulder.
He gasped, grunted, and whimpered, each sound sharp, pitiful, and impossible to suppress.
A particularly vicious jolt ripped a raw cry from his throat, the sound echoing across the shore.
From the tree line, a flock of birds erupted into the air all at once, their frantic screeches scattering across the canopy like shrapnel made of noise.
"Sorry!" he groaned up at the indifferent sky. "Sorry for the disturbance, just dying a little, don't mind me…" At last, he collapsed onto the dry stretch of beach, rolling onto his back.
The sun was too bright, the air too clean, the world far too solid after everything he'd just endured.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
His shoulder bulged grotesquely, bone pressing against skin mottled with bruises in colors he didn't even have names for.
He lay there, chest heaving, eyes unfocused, mind reeling.
Hell.
Dragons.
Imps.
Mind flayers.
The thing in his head.
The ship going down.
A psionic blast from his own hand.
And now… a coastline he had never seen before. "What the hell," he muttered weakly, staring up at the treetops.
"What the actual, genre-defying hell?"
That's when he heard it, footsteps.
Three sets, crunching steadily through the sand.
Slow, deliberate, controlled.
Prepared, but not rushing in.
William raised his head just enough to catch sight of figures approaching: three of them, clad in simple yet well-worn armor.
Each carried a weapon, not aimed directly at him, but held at an angle that made their readiness clear should he make a wrong move.
He lifted his uninjured hand in a defensive gesture. "Uh. Hi. Please don't stab me. I'm very stab-sensitive right now."
The trio exchanged glances before the dwarf among them, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with a red beard and armor etched faintly with runes, took a careful step forward.
As he did, William felt something shift in the air, a faint vibration like a plucked string somewhere deep behind his eyes.
The dwarf halted mid-step, frowned, and stared straight at William as if perceiving something unseen. "…Well now," he murmured. "He's a true soul."
William blinked. "A what…?"
But the dwarf simply raised a hand to his companions in silent command. "Lower your arms," he said softly. "He's no enemy. Not with the spark of the Absolute inside him."
The two humans, a man with a mace strapped to his thigh and a woman holding a staff topped with a carved symbol, paused for a moment but complied, moving forward with less caution and more visible concern.
The dwarf offered a polite nod.
"Name's Edowin. This is Brynna, and that's Andrick. We mean you no harm, lad. But… Absolute above, you look half dead. What's a true soul doing in such a state? Do you need medical aid?"
William didn't answer.
Instead, he raised his arm, or rather, the grotesque swelling at his shoulder, jutting like a broken chair leg through torn upholstery.
Edowin grimaced. "Right. That's… unfortunate."
He glanced at Brynna, who gave a single firm nod, her expression set.
"Hold still," she instructed, stepping toward William.
Her hands began to emit a soft, shimmering green light, like sunlight filtered through leaves, and the air grew thick with a warm, holy pressure that made William's skin tingle.
"Wait, hold… hold on…" he tried to object.
Too late.
She pressed her hand hard against the swollen shoulder.
A burst of white-hot pain ripped through his entire torso.
William screamed, then clamped his teeth on his lip until the tang of copper filled his mouth. His vision narrowed to a tunnel. Holy light seeped into the mangled joint, bones grinding with sickening clarity.
click, click! CRACK!
They slid back into place.
The sound he made landed somewhere between a sob and a curse.
Brynna let out a slow breath, pulling her hand away as the last shimmering traces of magic faded from her fingers.
"There," she said with calm assurance. "Good as new."
William sprawled in the sand, chest heaving, tears escaping without his consent.
"Oh my god," he groaned. "Healing should come with warning labels."
Edowin chuckled. "Aye. It would be."
William pushed himself upright on shaky legs, the world tilting for a moment before leveling out.
William stared at them, still trembling.
Still terrified.
Still trying to make sense of any of this.
But for the first time since waking in the pod…
He wasn't alone.
Edowin slid his spear onto his back with a smooth, practiced ease.
The tension in his stance eased slightly, just enough to show he no longer saw William as an immediate threat. "Come," he said evenly. "Our base of operations isn't far. Agents of the Absolute hold a small foothold in this region, and you'll be safe there."
"Safe...."
William nearly laughed aloud.
He'd run this stretch of forest more times than he could remember back in the real world, with characters ranging from a bloodthirsty spawn of the god of murder to righteous paladins.
"Safe" here meant overrun with goblins, riddled with traps, and populated by the kind of fools who called themselves zealots after a murmur in their dreams.
Still, he gave a reluctant nod.
Edowin led the way with the easy confidence of someone who knew every inch of these woods, his boots crunching softly over dried pine needles and winding roots.
Brynna followed close behind, her steps so light they were almost soundless, staff clutched to her chest as she murmured a quiet prayer.
Andrick brought up the rear, one hand hovering near his sword's pommel, eyes sweeping the shadows in steady, practiced arcs.
William kept up, barely, his legs still trembling like he'd been poured out of a blender.
The forest seemed to fold around them with unexpected gentleness.
Overhead, the canopy swayed lazily in the breeze, while a narrow stream curved alongside their path, its waters spilling over stones in glittering silver ribbons.
It might have been peaceful.
If he wasn't teetering on the edge of a full-blown breakdown.
So he latched onto something familiar. Something that made sense in the chaos.
His character sheet.
If this really was the world of Baldur's Gate 3, maybe the same rules applied. It was ridiculous, ridiculous, and possibly brilliant.
He gave it a shot.
First, a dramatic two-handed sweep through the air, like parting invisible curtains.
Nothing.
Next, pulling down an imaginary menu, as if it floated in front of him.
Still nothing.
Then, waggling his fingers in a mock Prestidigitation and muttering, "Open Sesame."
Only result: Andrick glancing back with a raised brow.
Finally, two taps to the temple, then pointing forward like a faulty psychic.
Nope.
Edowin heard the faint tapping and glanced over his shoulder. "You pick up another injury, lad?"
"No! No, just uh, stretching." William shoved his hands into what was definitely a completely normal, not-at-all suspicious fist pump.
The dwarf gave a shrug and kept walking.
William tried again, palms out, arms spread, picturing a glowing, transparent interface appearing before his eyes.
Still nothing.
He felt ridiculous. No, worse, he almost visibly cringed in a way that medical science probably didn't have the vocabulary for.
Finally, out of sheer frustration, he clenched his jaw and thought the words as hard as humanly possible:
Character.
Sheet.
NOW.
Or, more bluntly.
"Character Sheet."
No sound. No flash.
But then...
Something clicked.
A faint shimmer edged into his vision, and a semi-transparent panel snapped into place in front of him, like it had been there all along, just waiting for the right command.
William's breath caught.
Lines of text. Stats. Attributes. Conditions.
A real character sheet.
Floating. Reacting to his thoughts.
"Oh… holy shit."
He nearly stopped in his tracks, but Edowin's hand shot out, grabbing his arm before he could wander straight into a thorny patch.
"Careful," the dwarf muttered. "Roots around here like to snag the ankles of distracted travelers."
William nodded absently.
Distracted didn't even begin to cover it.
Because for the first time since waking in that pod.
He had information.
He had structure.
He had a way to make sense of this world and his place in it.
His pulse raced as he fixed his gaze on the floating sheet.
And it reacted.
This world had rules.
And for the first time, he could see them.
[CHARACTER SHEET — WILLIAM]
Race: Half-Drow (Half-Elf)
Class: Aberrant Mind Sorcerer
Level: 1
Alignment: Neutral
Background: Sage
Origin: A half-drow marked by alien whispers beyond mortal comprehension.
[STATS] Attribute – Value – Modifier
Strength – 8 (–1)
Dexterity – 16 (+3)
Constitution – 14 (+2)
Intelligence – 12 (+1)
Wisdom – 10 (+0)
Charisma – 16 (+3)
[CORE TRAITS]
Fey Ancestry – Immune to magical sleep; resistant to charm effects.
Darkvision – Can see in darkness up to 60 feet.
Drow Heritage – Gains Dancing Lights at Level 1.
Telepathic Speech – Can communicate telepathically with a chosen creature within 30 feet.
[PROFICIENCIES]
Saving Throws – Constitution, Charisma.
Skills – Arcana, History, Insight, Deception, Perception, Stealth.
[SPELL LIST]
Cantrips – Dancing Lights (racial), Mage Hand, Minor Illusion, Fire Bolt, Prestidigitation.
Level 1 Innate Aberrant Spells (always known) – Arms of Hadar: summons writhing shadow tendrils to assault nearby foes; Dissonant Whispers: instills psychic terror that compels enemies to flee.
Edowin kept the group moving at a steady, confident pace, his boots crunching over a carpet of old pine needles and bits of bark, while Brynna and Andrick positioned themselves in a loose triangle around William.
Compared to the hellscape he'd just escaped, this part of the forest felt almost peaceful, sunlight filtering gently through the branches, the quiet laughter of a stream running alongside them, and for the first time in a while, William let himself take a full breath.
Up ahead, beyond the trees, the outline of a small town emerged, smoke curling lazily from chimneys, rooftops peeking between swaying pines.
Then the earth shuddered beneath them in a sudden, bone-jarring tremor.
William stopped cold.
Edowin froze mid-step. The others turned, tense and ready.
The forest screamed.
A raw, rage-filled screech ripped through the air, followed by the violent tearing of foliage.
A wild boar burst from the thicket, eyes rolling, tusks dirty, zigzagging past them in blind panic.
What crashed after it was massive.
Trees splintered as an owlbear barreled into view, feathers bristling like jagged spears, its huge, furred body surging with brutal power.
It skidded to a stop on the hillside, nostrils flaring as it fixed its gaze on them, the dangerous glint in its eyes sharpening.
The boar vanished into the brush.
The owlbear decided they would be its prey instead.
"Gods… MOVE!" Andrick shouted, steel flashing as he drew his blade.
But Edowin was already in motion.
With a roar born of both defiance and raw instinct, the dwarf tore his multi-pronged spear from his back and charged. His boots bit into the dirt, leaving furrows as he drove the weapon forward, burying the tines deep into the owlbear's flank.
The beast let out a shriek, sharp and avian, that made William's skull throb.
For a moment, it faltered.
Then its gaze snapped to Edowin.
"Edowin!" Brynna's voice rang out.
The owlbear lashed out.
Its talons ripped across the dwarf's abdomen with such brutal force that William registered the blow before the sound reached him. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, catching the sunlight as Edowin was flung backward onto the forest floor.
"NO!" Brynna dropped to her knees beside him, hands already glowing.
The owlbear, wounded and furious yet still brimming with deadly power, unleashed another roar before charging past them, tearing through the underbrush and crashing down the slope in a storm of splintering branches.
It plunged into the river with a tremendous splash, leapt across to the far bank, and vanished among the upstream boulders, leaving behind only shivering trees, cooling blood, and the lingering echo of its rage.
William stood rooted to the spot, chest tight, eyes locked on Edowin's injury, deep, ragged, bleeding far too quickly. Brynna's sharp voice yanked him back to the moment.
"Don't just stand there!" she barked, her hands glowing as she pressed them to Edowin's torn abdomen. "I need help, apply pressure!"
William's pulse pounded in his ears.
Was this really happening? Was he about to watch someone die in the prologue of his own reincarnation story?
He dropped to his knees beside her. "Right! Okay, I'm on it... just tell me what to do!"
The dwarf let out a groan, seizing William's wrist with startling force and guiding his hands to where Brynna had directed.
The blood was scalding, frighteningly real.
Brynna's magic flared brighter as Andrick loomed over them, sword ready, eyes sweeping the tree line for any hint the owlbear might return.
The forest had fallen into a suffocating, unnatural silence.