A warm gust of summer wind pushed through the open window. Somewhere in the house, a door creaked—then slammed shut.
Louis didn't flinch. He was too busy trying not to pass out from the heat.
He lay sprawled across his bed, sweat soaking the sheets in the vague outline of his body. He turned onto his side. Then the other. The heat clung to him anyway. A low groan slipped out of his throat.
"Ice cream…" he muttered. "I need ice cream."
With a sigh, he forced himself off the mattress. The air felt thick, heavy, like summer itself had weight. It burned his sinuses, sharp and suffocating. Dragging his feet, he left his room.
"You finally woke up?" his mother's voice called from downstairs.
"I've been awake the whole time, Mom," Louis said, throat dry. "I just didn't have the energy to move."
He started down the stairs.
Then his head jerked back.
Something gritty scratched inside his nose. He rubbed at it, but the sensation stayed—grainy, irritating. Like sand.
"Well, dinner's almost ready," his mother said, snapping him out of it. "So no ice cream."
The itch faded, leaving behind an uncomfortable phantom feeling.
Louis stared ahead. "Whhaaaatt?" His mouth felt even drier.
Defeated, he aimed for the kitchen instead. Cold water would have to do.
He took another step.
The world flickered.
For a split second, his vision was swallowed by color—two shades of orange flashing across his eyes before vanishing.
"—Louis?" his mother called.
He blinked.
The staircase was back. Same heat. Same house.
"Are you listening?" Her voice drifted from the kitchen.
"Huh?" Louis blinked again, just to be sure. Everything stayed the same.
"Don't you 'huh' me!" she snapped. "Go bring the—"
Her voice cut off.
The instant his foot touched the next step, everything disappeared.
No sound.
No light.
No feeling.
It wasn't darkness. It was nothing.
Then the world burst outward.
Color. Sensation. Heat—too much, all at once.
Heat.
Blistering, merciless heat.
Louis stood frozen beneath a blazing sun. Red sand stretched endlessly in every direction, dotted with cacti. His body refused to move as his eyes searched for something familiar. Anything.
A confused breath slipped out of him.
His mother's voice hadn't stopped because he'd gone deaf.
It had stopped because she was gone.
The sand shifted beneath his feet, alive with movement—worms, spiders, things he didn't want to think about. His slippers sank slightly into the ground.
This isn't—
He blinked. Shook his head. Rubbed his eyes.
Nothing changed.
A vast desert glowed under the unforgiving sun.
Pain stabbed into his ears.
He gasped, clutching the sides of his head. The pain faded—
—and sound rushed in.
Footsteps. Voices. Bargaining. Laughter. Metal clinking. Fabric snapping in the wind. Too much. All at once.
He spun around.
And froze.
A town stretched out behind him. Red sand gave way to stone paths and sandstone buildings stacked close together. Narrow windows dotted the walls, uneven and worn.
Tents filled the streets. Cloth canopies flapped above crowded stalls. Signs hung overhead—Meat. Vegetables. Furniture.
The symbols weren't English. Some resembled ancient runes; others looked like warped versions of familiar letters.
Yet he understood them anyway.
"Woah…" The word slipped out before he could stop it.
He squinted, scanning the street. And then—
"Wait."
His body stiffened.
"Have I…" His voice cracked. "Have I been sent to an isekai?!"
The word echoed.
Conversation died around him.
People stopped. Heads turned. Brows furrowed. A few stared like he'd just barked.
Louis folded inward immediately. Why did I say that out loud? Heat rushed to his face as his spine hunched.
Then something else caught his eye.
"Are those… no way…"
He stared.
Tails. Ears. Scales.
A group passed by—one with cat ears twitching atop their head, another with green, scaled skin catching the sunlight, a third with a canine snout stretched over a human frame.
"Demi-humans…" he whispered.
His stomach tightened. Scary.
"Hey. You."
Louis flinched.
The voice came from his side—calm, firm.
"You shouldn't be outside the town this time of year," the man said. "It's dangerous. Get inside."
Louis turned.
A guard stood there, armored lightly against the heat. Plates of metal protected his vitals, gaps exposing sun-bronzed skin. A dagger rested at his left hip. A short sword at the right.
Louis swallowed.
He hesitated. His feet tensed, unsure whether stepping into town was safe—but under the guard's steady gaze, he gave in.
Sand spilled from his slippers as he stepped onto stone.
The guard's eyes followed him, curious. "That clothing," he said, "is unusual for the desert."
Louis looked up. The man was taller—by a lot.
His face was unexpectedly gentle. Long lashes. Warm eyes. Soft features that almost made him look out of place—
Until Louis noticed the muscle beneath the armor. Lean. Defined. Built for speed, not bulk.
The guard wasn't soft.
He was ready.
"Uh… yeah." Louis shifted under the sun, skin itching from the heat. He glanced down at himself.
A thin tank top. Knee-length shorts.
Nothing else.
"I guess so."
The guard raised an eyebrow.
Louis stopped a few steps away, suddenly very aware of his hands. He fidgeted, then froze, unsure what to do with them.
"I am Ali," the guard said.
Louis nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. "Ali—uh. Nice to meet you?"
Silence.
Ali simply watched him.
"Oh." Louis cleared his throat. "I'm Louis." He lifted his hand, offering a shake.
Ali didn't move.
"…Right." Louis lowered his hand. Heat crept up his neck.
"Louis." Ali repeated the name slowly.
His gaze sharpened. His fingers shifted, settling on the hilt of his dagger.
"An unusual name."
Louis swallowed. His chest felt tight.
Say something. Why is he staring? Why is his hand still there?
"Tell me, Louis," Ali said, emphasis heavy, "I do not recall seeing you in this town. Where are you from?"
Louis's mind sprinted.
It'd sound weird if I said I'm from another world. I can just say I'm from somewhere east. That'll probably work.
"I'm from—"
Nothing came out.
His throat locked.
Air slammed against his mouth, trapped. Pain crushed into his chest, sudden and absolute—like his lungs were being folded inward.
Thought vanished.
Pressure built. Tightened. Consumed.
"You hesitate," Ali said.
The pain vanished at the sound of his voice.
Louis sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling as sensation rushed back. Every hair on his body stood on end.
Ali's grip had fully closed around the dagger.
Ready.
Louis's gaze flicked to it for half a second too long.
Then he spoke.
"I can't remember."
The words tasted wrong.
Yet his head felt clearer. The world sharpened—just a little. Colors edged more distinctly. The air carried more detail. Whether it was his vision or his senses, he couldn't tell.
Ali's grip loosened. His hand fell away from the dagger.
"I see." His eyes remained on Louis, measuring. "Extended travel through the desert can cause memory loss. It is not uncommon."
Questions surged up—
—and died in Louis's throat.
Dammit.
"Do you have any coin?" Ali asked. His posture eased, suspicion softening into something closer to sympathy. "There is an inexpensive inn straight ahead. Hard to miss. A clerk works beside it. Payment and a simple request should be enough."
He gestured down the road.
More questions followed. Payment for what? A request from who? But all Louis managed was a small nod.
"Uh… okay."
Ali studied him one last time before turning away. "I have duties to attend to. Avoid traveling the desert for the remainder of the season." He paused. "The Groigens have been… restless. The heat has agitated them."
Then he was gone.
Louis watched until the crowd swallowed the guard's retreating form.
Groigens.
Whatever they were, they sounded like the kind of thing you didn't want to meet alone.
He turned back toward the desert.
Endless red sand stretched to the horizon. Shapes scurried in the distance. Far above, massive winged silhouettes circled something unmoving on the ground.
He wiped sweat from his brow before it reached his eyes and looked away from the sun.
Too bright. Too much.
With no coin, no plan, and no idea what he was supposed to do, Louis stood at the mouth of the town.
Alone.
The feeling wasn't unfamiliar.
He pushed it down before it could settle.
I'm in another world, he told himself.
That means I've got something.
Some power.
Some ability.
…Probably.
Like something to one-shot those Groigens.
Right?
…
Right?