In the year 1121, during the Dark Ages, mutants were not just myths or stories; they were as real as the plague. But the protagonist of this story didn't know that… For all he cared, he was forced to jump to a wormhole, just because…

A young man in his mid-20s found himself buried in stench, decay, and blood. With great effort, he pried himself open from under whatever he was buried with. Slowly, he took in the light as his hands scrambled for the fresh open air.

Once he was out, the first thing he saw was a crow staring him right on his face.

Caw!

The crow then flew.

"Oh man, this place sucked…"

Everywhere Reid looked, there was only corpse after corpse.

It seemed he found himself in a warzone.

Reid A. Hearth wasn't your average lab rat. Firstly, he survived a wormhole. Secondly, he was a mutant. You see, mutants had become a strongly protected secret by the 21st century. However, back in the so-called Dark Ages, mutants roamed the world proudly and freely like gods walking among men, a tidbit he learned from the madly raving scientists who worked him up on this project.

How exactly had Reid found himself in this situation? The answer was fairly simple, though not less tragic. He had been falsely convicted of murder—a crime he didn't commit. The truth was that his mutant origins had been discovered, and that revelation had sealed his fate. His powers had made him a target, and the real reason for his imprisonment was to keep him hidden from the world.

Life in prison hadn't been easy. The harsh conditions and constant surveillance were only part of the nightmare. Over time, he learned of a darker secret: people like him, mutants, were being used as subjects in illegal science experiments. These experiments were conducted in the shadows, away from prying eyes. For Reid, it meant being forced into the most dangerous project of them all— in his case, the wormhole experiment.

The experiment had worked, though not as intended. It flung him to nowhere.

Was this an isekai? A time travel? Transmigration? He couldn't even find the right word. Fact was, he was in another world set in a medieval period, which was painfully obvious from the dead bodies lying around him.

"Looks like the Middle Ages," he remarked as he examined the dead, carrying iron weapons and the like you'd only see in medieval conventions, museums, or during LARP.

Reid surveyed the battlefield, strewn with the remains of fallen warriors. Among the wreckage, he spotted a weapon—a short sword, worn but still sharp. He picked it up, testing its weight in his hand. A short sword wasn't too bad; it would do for now.

"It wouldn't hurt to have something for self-defense."

He swept his dark hair, now matted in blood. In his own head, he began listing off his options and what he could do. For all that mattered, he was just a single mortal with powers or without.

"I could use a shower."

Reid's power was a unique hybridized extrasensory perception that allowed him to tap into a range of extraordinary abilities. He called it 'Self-Mastery,' and the name was fitting. With it, he possessed hyper-awareness, a limited danger sense that often saved his life, the ability to run mental simulations to predict outcomes, accelerated learning, and even self-hypnosis to control pain or focus in dire situations.

Suddenly, his danger sense flared up. It was a sharp jolt of awareness that made him instinctively roll to the side. A split second later, a massive hammer slammed into the ground where he had just been standing, sending dirt and debris flying.

Some chunks of meat and blood even caught in his mouth.

Reid spat vitriol at the ambusher, "You fucking nut sack! I am not in the mood to play stabby-stabby with you, fucking savage. I got better places to be."

Reid quickly got to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. Standing before him was a hulking man, easily two meters tall, with a build like a mountain. The man's eyes were cold and merciless, and in his hands, he held the giant hammer that had nearly ended Reid's life.

The man grunted, clearly not pleased that his surprise attack had failed.

Reid tightened his grip on the short sword, knowing that this battle was far from over.

The foe in front of Reid was dressed in plain leather gear, with a sturdy steel helmet that gleamed dully in the dim light. His most intimidating feature, however, was the giant hammer he wielded—a weapon capable of crushing most skulls, unless they were made of something as strong as diamond. Reid, always quick with a nickname, dubbed the hammer-wielding brute "Foehammer" in his mind.

Reid, never one to jump into a fight without trying to talk his way out first, raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "Hey, there's no need to fight—" he began, his tone diplomatic and calm. Something he should have tried before cussing at the other person to his heart's content.

But before Reid could get another word out, Foehammer swung his massive hammer toward him with terrifying speed. The force of the blow would have turned Reid into a smear on the battlefield if it had connected. As the hammer whistled through the air, Foehammer growled something unintelligible, his words a garbled mess that Reid couldn't decipher.

"Most likely a different tongue," he concluded within a microsecond.

Reid's instincts kicked in, and he leaped from one pile of dead carcasses to another, narrowly avoiding the crushing blows. The ground shook with each missed strike, and Reid knew he couldn't keep dodging forever. The giant man was relentless, and Reid was running out of places to hide.

Reid brandished his short sword, readying himself for the next attack. But before he could react, Foehammer suddenly vanished into thin air. A cold shiver ran down Reid's spine, his danger sense flaring as he realized something was terribly wrong.

He spun around just in time to see Foehammer reappear behind him, already mid-swing with that deadly hammer. Reid had no time to think—he threw himself to the ground, rolling among the dead bodies littering the battlefield. In a desperate move, he kicked a nearby carcass toward Foehammer, hoping to buy himself a precious second.

Reid had enough power on his legs that his kick sent the torso of a man flying at the giant.

Foehammer barely flinched as the body collided with him, but Reid's maneuver gave him just enough time to scramble to his feet. Before he could catch his breath, Foehammer vanished again, only to reappear at Reid's flank. It was as if the giant brute was teleporting, blinking in and out of existence with terrifying speed.

And that's exactly what it was—teleportation. Reid had faced mutants with similar abilities before, but none as aggressive or relentless as this one. Foehammer's unpredictable attacks kept Reid on the edge, with each near-miss bringing him closer to death.

The giant's ability to teleport combined with his muscle-powered relentless killing intent made the fight almost impossible to predict. Reid's danger sense was working overtime just to keep him alive. But amid the chaos, Reid's mind spun with possibilities, trying to make sense of his situation.

"Is this the Dark Ages?" Reid muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible as he narrowly avoided another swing of the massive hammer. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

If mutants existed here, then the history he knew was all wrong.

"I thought it was just a legend," he mused, dodging a deadly strike with a nimble sidestep. The history books had always depicted the Dark Ages as a time of ignorance, fear, and superstition. But what if it was more than that? What if the tales of supernatural beings and mythical creatures were grounded in some twisted version of reality?

Perhaps this era was the origin of the mutants—beings who were later driven into hiding, their existence buried under layers of myths and legends. His thoughts flickered back to the mad scientists who had conducted the experiment, their obsession with history suddenly making sense.

Maybe it was time travel after all?

Reid forced himself to focus via his self-hypnosis. It was an aspect of his power he'd honed to perfection over years of imprisonment. Instantly, his mind sharpened, his emotions dampened, and his thoughts became clear. The frantic panic that had been bubbling beneath the surface vanished, replaced by cold, calculated logic.

He analyzed Foehammer's movements with a clinical detachment. The teleportation was random, but there was a pattern—a slight delay between the moment the giant disappeared and when he reappeared. It was brief, but enough time for Reid to exploit.

"Alright, big guy," Reid muttered, his grip tightening on the short sword. "Let's see how you handle this."

He feigned a stumble, making it look like he was tiring out, and sure enough, Foehammer took the bait. The giant teleported directly in front of Reid, hammer raised high for a crushing blow.

But Reid was ready. In the split second that Foehammer vanished, Reid sprang into action. He lunged forward, driving his short sword toward the spot where Foehammer would reappear. The timing had to be perfect—any hesitation, and he'd miss his chance.

Foehammer materialized just as Reid's sword found its mark.

The blade pierced through the giant's leather armor, embedding deep into his side. Foehammer roared in pain, the force of the strike staggering him. Reid didn't waste a moment; he twisted the blade, ripping it free as blood poured from the wound.

Foehammer staggered back. His teleportation failed him as he clutched at the gash in his side. Reid stepped back, readying himself for another strike, but the giant didn't attack. Instead, he glared at Reid with a mix of rage and something else—something that almost looked like fear.

"You're not the only one with tricks," Reid said coldly, his eyes locked on Foehammer.

The giant's response was a low, guttural growl. He glanced down at the blood seeping from his wound, then back at Reid, his eyes narrowing in what could only be described as grudging respect.

"Maybe this place won't be so bad after all," Reid thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he prepared for whatever came next. "I think I just received a warrior's respect, it felt good."