Kade groaned as he shifted, dust and fur clinging to his clothes. His ribs protested every breath. He blinked up at the violet sky, stars twinkling faintly overhead.
Then—a growl. No, not from the beast beneath him. That thing was out cold, maybe dead.
From the people.
Four of them, all staring, weapons half-drawn, eyes wide. Not zombies. Not monsters.
Human. Alive.
NPCs?
Kade sucked in a breath, rolled to the side, and gritted his teeth. He reached for his rusty sword—the one he'd clung to like a lifeline—and used it to push himself upright. His legs wobbled. He steadied himself.
Then, standing on shaking feet, he stared them down.
"…Are you all real?" he asked.
The one with the braid—Velra—narrowed her eyes. "Is he real?"
The man with the half-eaten meat—Garron—blinked. "You just fell from the sky, crushed a corpse-wolf, and that's your first question?"
Kade didn't answer.
His fingers gripped the hilt tighter.
For a second, nobody moved.
Only the fire crackled.
Only the wind whispered.
Then Mira stepped forward, blue light circling her shoulder.
"…He's not undead," she said. "Not cursed. No rot. And his mana's… weird. But clean."
Her eyes met Kade's.
"You're real enough. Question is… where the hell did you come from?"
Kade swayed slightly, then planted his sword into the dirt for balance. His breath fogged in the cooling air. Cuts stung. His chest throbbed.
But he grinned.
Like a madman.
"Me?" he rasped. "I came from hell."
The others exchanged glances.
He straightened a bit, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
"Are you all… players?"
Silence.
Velra's brow furrowed. "Players?"
Garron tilted his head. "What, like… musicians?"
"No," Kade muttered, his grin fading. "Like—game players. PCs. Online."
Blank stares.
Even Mira, the one glowing with mana, looked puzzled. "Is that a guild? Or some kind of slang from the cities?"
Kade's heart sank a little.
"…You're not players," he whispered. "You're—what, NPCs?"
More silence.
"NPC?" Renn finally said, his voice low. "He keeps saying that. Like it's supposed to mean something."
Kade closed his eyes for a second.
He stood still, breathing hard, the rusty sword still buried in the dirt, his free hand trembling. He scratched at his wrist absently—nervous habit, or disbelief, even he couldn't tell.
"This can't be real," he muttered. "This is the Myth Realm, right?"
His voice cracked.
"In MythOnline… that's what we call the game. But inside the quests, the NPCs—the lore—they always call it the Myth Realm."
He opened his eyes and looked at them again.
"You… you've heard of that, haven't you? Myth Realm? That's what this place is."
Velra shifted slightly, a frown deepening on her face. "The Myth Realms? That's just an old name from the pre-Collapse era. From before the borders fell. It's not something people live in—it's myth."
Kade's throat went dry.
"...So it really is the game. The world of the game. But you—you're not acting like NPCs. You're too… real."
Mira narrowed her eyes, the glow at her shoulder flickering. "What is an 'NPC'?"
Kade just laughed.
A quiet, slightly unhinged sound.
"Non. Player. Character," he said to himself. "Scripted. Fake. Just part of the background…"
He looked back at their very real, very confused expressions.
Then down at his shaking, bloodied hands.
"But none of this feels fake."
The group exchanged glances.
Velra's grip on her sword loosened slightly—but only slightly.
"He's not right in the head," Garron muttered, voice low. "Too young to be alone out here. Barely more than a kid."
Renn gave a single nod, his eyes scanning Kade from head to toe.
Mira tilted her head. "That outfit… it's not armor. Not even traveler's gear." She squinted. "Looks like… a jester's nightwear."
"Jester?" Garron snorted. "More like a madman dropped out of a noble's nursery."
Kade blinked at them, still dazed. "Jester…?"
He looked down at his torn pajamas—bright, striped, soaked in dirt and undead blood. A frayed sleeve dangled from his elbow.
"Oh. Yeah," he mumbled. "I guess I do look like a clown."
Velra stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing—not in anger, but wariness.
"Kid," she said, calm but firm, "you need to tell us where you're from. What town. What house. And how in the gods' names you survived a Ruinborn beast falling on top of you."
Kade just smiled weakly and leaned harder on the sword.
"I already told you," he whispered. "I came from hell."
Kade's legs gave out.
He dropped straight down onto his butt with a grunt, the rusty sword clattering beside him. Pain flared through his ribs—white-hot, blinding. He hunched forward, coughing once, then winced.
"Ah—damn it—ribs…"
Velra's eyes narrowed further. She sheathed her sword halfway, but didn't move.
Mira stepped cautiously closer, eyeing the dirt-covered boy slumped atop the half-crushed corpse of the undead hound. Her voice gentled. "He's hurt."
"No kidding," Garron muttered. "Looks like he barely made it out alive."
Renn moved first. Quiet, steady. He crouched beside Kade and reached down, fingers brushing aside bone and ragged fur to gently pull him clear of the mangled beast.
"Easy," Renn said.
Kade groaned as he was moved, clutching his side. "Thanks, mysterious NPC ranger guy… ow."
"What did he just call me?" Renn asked Mira over his shoulder.
"No clue," she replied, frowning.
Once clear of the corpse, Renn helped ease Kade back against a stone. Mira approached next, pulling a small vial from her belt. "Drink this," she said, offering it.
Kade eyed it suspiciously. "Not poison, right?"
Velra scoffed. "If we wanted you dead, boy, we'd have left you for the hound."
Kade took the vial and drank. Bitter, sharp, minty. He gagged, but the pain dulled enough for him to breathe.
Still groggy, he muttered, "Thanks. I, uh… I'm not from any town. Not from here, actually."
"You don't say," Garron replied, arms crossed.
Kade looked at them. "This place… is it really the Myth Realm?"
Mira blinked. "That's what it's called in the old records. The fallen lands. Myth Realm."
Kade rubbed his temples, still half-dazed. "Okay… so this really is the Myth Realm. Not just a game map. Not some immersive quest zone. Real air, real pain, real everything."
Velra exchanged a glance with Mira. "He talks like he's from another world."
"I am," Kade muttered, scratching the back of his hand absently. "Sort of. I mean… I came from—hell, I don't even know anymore. Call it out-realm or wherever people go when they die and respawn with pajama armor."
Garron raised a brow. "You sayin' you're a realmwalker?"
Kade blinked. "A what?"
"People who fall through rifts," Mira said cautiously. "It's old myth. Rare. Dangerous."
"I guess that fits," Kade said, chuckling weakly. "Dropped in with nothing but a phone, a mouse, and pajamas that make me look like a jester."
Velra crossed her arms. "You don't sound like a soldier. And you look like you hit your head on the way down."
"Probably did," Kade muttered. "But trust me, none of this is how I planned to spend my Saturday."
They stared at him.
"...Saturday?"
Renn leaned toward Mira and whispered, "He's definitely not right in the head."
Velra sighed and finally sheathed her blade. "We'll take him with us. At least until he can stand on his own."
Kade blinked. "Wait—I'm being… adopted?"
Garron groaned. "Not by me, you're not."
But Mira was already kneeling beside him, checking his pulse. "Just don't die before morning, jester boy."
Kade leaned back against the stone, eyelids heavy. The pain in his ribs throbbed with each heartbeat, but the potion dulled the worst of it. Above, the violet sky swirled, stars winking like distant eyes.
"Sure," he mumbled. "i can try again and return anyway…"
And then, at last, Kade slipped into unconsciousness—still half-smiling, as the strange new world watched in wary silence.