Arc 1, Chapter 1 – "The Second World"
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This is really bad.
Dead… or at least, that's what it felt like. Shiro Ishikawa rubbed his eyes and tried to make sense of what had just happened. One second, the truck. One second, the pain. And then darkness.
Now, he was standing on a cobblestone street, the convenience store nowhere in sight. Buildings of stone and wood surrounded him. People in armor, robes, and strange outfits hurried past. Massive lizards pulled carriages behind them, and humanoid creatures with tails or animal ears walked freely among humans.
Shiro's plastic bag was still in his hand. His body was fine. The girl… she was gone. Yet the memory of her screaming, the truck, and the pain he had felt lingered in his chest like fire.
Shiro looked… tired. Long, messy white hair stuck out in spikes, falling over most of his face and covering his eyes. Faint eye bags hinted at sleepless nights and withdrawn habits. His features were youthful but worn down, and his black hoodie and worn sneakers made him look unassuming. In any normal crowd, he could disappear completely.
Shiro: "I… I got isekai'd, didn't I?"
He took a careful step forward, glancing around. People didn't notice him. They were busy with their own lives. Shops lined the streets—bakeries, fruit stands, and forges. He could see strange animals wandering freely, some he'd only seen in games or books.
Shiro: "Alright… think. First, don't panic. Survive first, understand later."
Shiro's stomach growled, reminding him he had food. At least that was something familiar. He looked around for a quiet place to sit and think. A narrow alley between two buildings looked empty, so he slipped inside.
The alley was dim, but dry. He leaned against the wall, bag in his lap, and tried to organize his thoughts.
The pain of his first death was still fresh. It burned in his chest and limbs, though his body was fine. He didn't understand it. Why could he feel the suffering from the timeline he had just left? And why was he here now?
Shiro: "I can't tell anyone about this… if I do… something will happen."
Even thinking it made his chest tighten. He didn't want to test it. He didn't want to know. And yet, he couldn't ignore the strange sense that dying again—anywhere—would return him to this spot.
Shiro took another deep breath. He had to move. He couldn't stay in the alley forever. Carefully, he stepped back into the street, trying to act normal.
A group of children ran past, chasing a small, fox-like creature. Merchants shouted about fresh bread and fruit. Lizard carts clattered over the cobblestones. Shiro watched everything, trying to absorb it all.
Shiro: "So… this is the middle ages, or at least, something like it. No machines, just stone and wood… some magic maybe, but I don't know yet. And those creatures…"
He shook his head. Thinking about everything all at once made it worse. He needed a plan, but what could he do with no weapons, no money…