'Brrrrr...'

A helicopter transited the firmament at a breakneck speed, flaming red embers rising from its Stygian dark body. In a nutshell, the sinking helicopter crash-landed in a field of lush green grass, adjacent to the dim woods.

[Lieutenant... Lieutenant! Commander...here, can...hear...me?]

The low radio signal enabled a message from HQ to reach the modified appliance in the helicopter. The commanding officer was growing more and more jittery. This was not a risky operation or a deadly mission. At first, it had been a training session for recruits, but who would have known that the chopper had been rigged by rioting rookies?

And the person aboard the helicopter was none other than a dignified member of the Special Forces! What would happen to him if this esteemed dignitary kicked the bucket as a result of his lack of vigilance? The higher-ups would guillotine the thoughtless recruits regardless, but what about 'him'?!

Stillness answered the depot's commanding officer, before a hoarse voice wheezed and struggled with the dense cloud of smoke, to finally manage a 'yes'. The commanding officer nearly danced in delight while in HQ. His juniors passed him odd glances before resuming their own work—tracking down the helicopter's location.

Depot: [Where are you, Agent Q; awaiting affirmation to dispatch reinforcements on your side.]

"...No...need. I'm still hanging on...cough, commander. The aircraft crashed in...some sort of plain?" Agent Q coughed then hoisted his aching body, with a bit of struggle, and scanned the evergreen scenery with narrowed eyes. His tall body cast a shadow over the earth beneath him. His wide back exuded incredible strength and a domineering aura, like a sleeping tiger opening its eyes.

"Ugh, I think I have entered Elfin territory...uh...commander...? ...tsk-" He grunted irritably, his teeth gritting angrily.

The radio signal had watered down to nothing, as the gadget breathed its last. He spat out a curse. Agent Q was a tall man with an intimidating scar running from his brow to the far left corner of his mouth. His left eye was dull white, but his other one was frighteningly sharp.

His rough hands fumbled in the broken helicopter, before producing a black rifle and a machine gun. He left the machine gun and dragged his bloody limbs to leap out of the helicopter. Plodding, his one good eye scanned his surroundings placidly.

The helicopter had crashed in a wide, flat area of grass—probably a ravine, he guessed upon making out the misty hills peering over the treetops in the horizon. Hills—that meant that he really, truly had arrived in the Elfin territory.

Elves were a savage, intelligent lot. The last time he had encountered them, he was fortunate enough to escape with only a few scars—that was commendable, but typical of one of the best officers in the Human Army's Special Unit.

The Human Army consisted of Chosen Ones'. It was founded by the first disappearing subjects on Earth and later ripened as more people vanished and reappeared in these foreign soils.

The Special Unit was different from other army units. It was...' special'. All the members were only gifted in one area, and could not do anything else but that. However, they had the best close-range trooper, the best blade-user, the best sniper, the best doctor...-

What best squadron? He spat, in frustration, the full lump of spittle landing squarely on a sharp blade of green grass and sliding down to engulf a little ladybug. If the so-called 'special' unit was truly invincible, then how could there still be little rookies rebelling against the Army?

The pesky flies... Did they not know who was fighting at the frontlines? It was not the "Special Unit" or any other top-secret organ! No; it was the Human Army! It was ordinary soldiers who only had passionate suicidal wishes and no skill or prior mentoring who were sent to the front lines to sacrifice themselves! In the meantime, the supposed 'elites' lolled in the rear-end or the Main Capital...

Agent Q's face turned black.

His ears suddenly made out a shrill, beastly cry in the murky woods. His brows furrowed. With superhuman power, his burly body darted to conceal itself within the bushes, his back against the thick crust of a conical tree.

Agent Q held his breath and paused to confirm his instincts, his gaze fixed on every corner, and his ears keen to hear any anomaly.

Before long, a group of white-skinned, tall, and slender fellows straddled on midnight black horses, armed, cut through the dense bushland. The leading one halted in the very spot Agent Q had just been standing moments before, disembarked from his mount, and strode over to the crashed helicopter.

Agent Q didn't move. At some point, he had forgotten to breathe under the immense pressure. He counted his enemies, one by one, his eyes glinting with growing insanity. Blood was rushing into cheeks, a deep, blood-red flushing up from his neck. His heart was pounding wildly like a young teenager in love.

5...

8...

12...

23...

39...

40.

Ha! So they were 40!

His lips curled up into a sinister smile that oozed of ill omen. His eyes were fixated on the leading elf who had hunched down beside the helicopter. You...will be first.

His uneven hands held up his rifle. His eyes glinted, pulling the warm trigger with nostalgia.

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Oliver shifted her weight, her body radiating sharp aches everywhere.

Where was she?

Her eyes opened and met the sight of the dense canopy of trees, the blue sky, and the burning glare of the sun spilling through the canopy.

Ah... This...was this "The Wilderness"?

The wilderness—her head rippled with concern as she tried to recall what she knew of it. This was the name bestowed to the place where the "chosen ones" had disappeared to. It had come to be known as such and, information about it dictated that it was a lawless world. A place that a single mistake could result in death.

The "Chosen Ones" were humans with supernatural powers. She had never expected that she would also be picked amongst millions of other humans on Earth... But...why her?

Oliver held her aching head in her arms and quickly adjusted to what was going on. She stood up, glanced at her nude body, and decided on her first course of action — clothes, water, food, then shelter...

Oliver strode over to a tall tree nearby and broke off several branches together with a low-hanging vine of bougainvillea. She plaited the vines to make them hardy before strapping them around her waistline.

Raising her head, she stretched her arm and firmly held a strong, low-slung branch of a tree, hoisting herself up like a flag to stand on top of it and climbing up the tree with her bare hands and feet.

Oliver tied the plaited vines around the bark of the tree.

Then she looked at the closest tree from her higher vantage point, while balancing her feet on the branch.

With one end of the vines tied to the tree's bark and the other firmly around her waist, she jumped to another tree, grabbed a strong branch... Uh—

Hand slipped.

Her right hand moved rapidly as her nails dug into the bark, blood springing from her fingertips as she struggled to balance herself. Her feet held onto the tree, toes curled to balance herself.

Finally, she released a soft sigh just as her body was balanced against the tree and slowly began climbing up. She paused at a strong branch close to the treetop and, just like before, tied the taut vine at her waist to the bark of the tree.

. . .

It took a while—she counted, and estimated around thirty minutes of her time was wasted. But, looking at the web of vines tied to the barks of trees like a system of electric cables, she was contented. 

First, shelter.

She climbed on top of a tree—this time, it was much easier now that her body was familiar with the swift movements. She halted at the treetop and poked her head through the leaves and branches of the thick canopy.

Fumbling through the leaves, her hand felt a strong branch, held it, and brought her whole body up.

With her higher vantage, she was finally able to see the new world. It was a vast stretch of land infested with trees for miles. There were snow-capped mountains in the horizons and bubbling waterfalls, deep chasms, and tall cliffs. Creeks and ravines were plentiful and ignited her adventurous spirit to a feverish pitch.

Oliver drunk in the freedom pouring into her body, and breathed in the cool, fresh air.

If she lost her balance and fell from such a height, she would certainly perish. Her senses felt a heavenly excitement from the notion—she would die. Ha, how amusing.

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