The young man felt himself falling from a great height, his body weightless yet bound by something cold. His eyes remained closed, but he could feel the chill tightening around his arms and legs. His ears twitched at the distant clunking of heavy metal, carried by a strong, rushing wind.

A sharp pain stabbed through his head, as though something vital was being taken. Gradually, his descent slowed, the air around him shifting as if invisible hands were guiding his fall.

Thud.

His back struck the hard ground, the impact jarring but not painful. Blinking, he opened his eyes, only for his mind to blank at the sight above him—a vast, unfamiliar ceiling that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance.

He sat up and looked around, confusion flickering in his gaze. Shelves packed with books towered around him, stretching endlessly in every direction, far beyond what he could see, no matter how much he craned his neck.

"Where… am I?"

He looked down and saw a robe adorned with intricate patterns and symbols. Beneath it, he wore a simple long-sleeved shirt, pants, and leather shoes.

He lifted his head, his gaze catching words forming in midair, materializing from nothing. Strangely, he understood them with ease.

"Countdown to destruction: 10... 9..."

"What?"

"8... 7... 6..."

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

But before he could protest further, the countdown hit zero. He looked down in alarm as the floor beneath him disappeared, and his body plunged into nothingness without warning.

"Damn it!"

His vision blurred as he felt the force of the fall. He saw the books around him dissolve into streaks of bluish light, rushing toward his head. The scent of old parchment filled his nose, sharp and distinct.

A ringing echoed in his ears as his descent continued. A surge of pain overwhelmed him, and his eyes unfocused, the world around him fading into a deep green hue. That was the last thing he remembered before his consciousness slipped away.

A cold, damp sensation against his back pulled him back to awareness. His body twitched as he felt the hard ground beneath him, but the details of his surroundings remained a hazy blur. Faint rustling sounds drifted to his ears—the soft stirring of leaves moving with the breeze.

He inhaled deeply, letting the rich, earthy scent seep into his senses. It was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Gradually, each sound and scent fell into place, grounding him in this new and strange environment.

"Why do I have to fall twice?" he muttered, irritation flickering in his tone.

He wanted to complain more, but the persistent ringing in his ears refused to relent. Opening his eyes, his vision adjusted to the sight of lush greenery surrounding him.

A faint clicking sound echoed in his head, rhythmic and persistent, as if a puzzle was slowly assembling itself. Words—strange yet oddly familiar—began to form in his mind.

"Forest?" he murmured, the word forming instinctively in his mind.

"Hey, hey, we should be careful," a voice whispered nearby.

The young man immediately sat up, his gaze snapping toward the sound. He spotted three children not far off, a teenage boy and two younger ones—a girl and a boy, both looking around seven years old.

"Where is this place?" he asked, directing his question toward them.

Instead of answering, the children backed away cautiously. The tallest, the teenage boy, kept a firm grip on the younger two's hands, his wary eyes never leaving him.

"Wait—"

Before he could finish, the boy pulled the other two along and bolted, their hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

"..."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The robe," he muttered, noticing its absence for the first time.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint tug in his mind, pulling his attention upward. An ethereal book floated in midair, its translucent pages flipping open as if moved by an unseen hand.

On the first page, an elegant letter shaped like a rune glowed faintly before words began forming beneath it. The shimmering letters shifted into a soft golden hue, then faded entirely as the book vanished without a trace.

"Eldric Liora?" he repeated aloud, tilting his head as if testing the sound. "Is that my name?"

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through his skull, forcing him to clutch his head. A weight—heavy and oppressive—poured into his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. Despite the searing pressure, he gritted his teeth and willed himself to stay conscious.

It took several minutes for the sensation to subside. Slowly, he straightened, exhaling shakily as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

"It's in here."

Eldric turned toward the source of the voice, the sound of footsteps growing louder. A group of middle-aged men emerged from between the trees, each wielding a weapon.

"That's him!" the older boy from earlier exclaimed, pointing straight at Eldric.

Before he could react, the men surrounded him, their weapons raised and ready.

"Wow, can you give me a break?" Eldric thought, frustration flickering across his face. He raised his hands slowly, signaling surrender.

"Who are you?" demanded a stocky man with blonde hair and a thick mustache. His cold eyes scrutinized every inch of Eldric, as if searching for a hidden threat.

Eldric hesitated, staring back at the group. His confusion was written plainly on his face.

"I'm Eldric Liora," he said finally. "That's the only thing I remember."

"How did you get in here?" the man pressed, his tone hard.

Eldric tensed as he felt the chilling touch of steel against the side of his neck.

"I don't know," he said truthfully, his voice steady despite the tension. "I can't remember."

Another man, slightly older with graying hair, stepped forward, his expression grim.

"Village head," he said, addressing the man with the mustache, "he's suspicious. We'd better detain him."

"Take him," the village head ordered without hesitation.

The cold steel was removed from Eldric's neck, but before he could feel relief, strong hands seized him from both sides. The men dragged him forward, their grip firm and unyielding.

"Can you at least let me walk on my own?" Eldric thought, biting back the urge to voice his frustration aloud.

Forced into a brisk pace, Eldric stumbled slightly as the men flanked him. He squinted as they neared the forest's edge, the rays of sunlight piercing through the canopy and hitting his eyes. As they approached the vicinity of the village, onlookers began to gather, their sharp gazes and furrowed brows making the air feel heavier. He caught snippets of their murmurs, but their words were too faint to discern.

The men led him away from the populated area of the village, stopping at what appeared to be a cave entrance. Without a word, they ushered him inside. The dim light quickly gave way to darkness, and he was shoved into an empty, narrow cell.

"Guard him," the man referred to as the village head ordered.

"Yes, sir."

The head gave Eldric a sharp, lingering look before turning and leaving without another word.

Inside the cell, there was nothing but a pile of hay in one corner, barely enough to sit or sleep on. Eldric sighed, leaning back against the cold, damp wall. He closed his eyes, frustration bubbling inside him.

"The hell," he thought bitterly.

Synchronization starting.

Eldric flinched, his eyes snapping open. The voice was clear, emotionless, and resounding inside his head. His gaze darted around the cell, his pulse quickening. He was alone.

Growl.

"Haah…" He exhaled heavily, pressing a hand to his empty stomach.

"Even if you want to detain me, at least provide me something to eat," he grumbled.

With no other choice, Eldric leaned against the wall once more, hoping sleep would take him. Hunger gnawed at him, but exhaustion was stronger. His consciousness drifted in and out until a sharp, metallic clang startled him awake.

"Hey!"

Eldric raised his head and saw the village head standing just outside his cell.

"I need to talk to you."

Before Eldric could respond, two guards entered the cell and grabbed his arms without hesitation.

I've been dragged around enough for one day, Eldric thought as he let out a weary sigh.

The guards led him to another room, a stark contrast to the dark cell. The space had a cozy atmosphere, with shelves neatly lined with books and scattered papers filling the small desk. The scent of parchment and wood lingered faintly in the air. Another man was already inside, seated and waiting.

"Please, sit," said the red-haired man, gesturing toward the chair in front of him.

The village head took a seat beside the man, and Eldric followed, settling into the offered chair. He glanced warily between the two, waiting for them to speak.

"First off, please eat," the red-haired man said gently, sliding a plate of food across the desk toward him.

Eldric's stomach growled softly as his eyes fell on the plate. The aroma made his mouth water, the pangs of hunger sharper now that food was in front of him.

"I can't ask you questions on an empty stomach," the man continued with a faint smile. "Help yourself."

Eldric didn't hesitate. As far as he was concerned, if he was going to die today, at least he wouldn't do it hungry.

"Thanks," he muttered, grabbing a piece of meat and biting into it without ceremony.

Crunch.

"Hey, sir, isn't he afraid we might've put something in his food?" 

Eldric heard one of the guards spoke from behind.

"Shhh! He might hear you," the other guard replied in a hushed tone.

I can hear you, though, Eldric thought, stifling a smirk as he continued to eat. Whatever they thought, pride wouldn't feed him. The food was too good to waste, and he planned to eat his fill.

He didn't feel anything unusual, so he figured the food was safe. Besides, pride wouldn't feed him. Free food was free food.

Having been detained the moment he woke up and left hungry for almost the entire day, he decided there was no room to dislike their hospitality.

The village head and the red-haired man exchanged blank stares. Drekson, in particular, found his gaze lingering on the black-haired young man seated across from them. His features were... unnervingly perfect. Even compared to the nobles Drekson had encountered before, this man's appearance was striking, almost unreal, as though he belonged to a realm beyond their own.

The young man, who appeared to be around twenty, ate without a care in the world, seemingly unbothered by the situation.

They were seated in the village head's office, which doubled as an interrogation room. Behind the young man stood the two guards from earlier, their postures stiff as they awaited further instructions.

"Ahem."

Eldric paused mid-bite, glancing up at the village head as he cleared his throat. With deliberate care, he placed the remaining food back on the plate, his casual demeanor unshaken.

"Thank you for the food," he said, his tone polite yet light.

The village head raised an eyebrow. "You don't look like someone who's just been detained."

"Hm?" Eldric tilted his head, his expression unreadable, before replying with a small shrug. "What are we going to do now?"

The red-haired middle-aged man leaned forward slightly, his tone measured as he spoke. "We have a few questions for you."

"But before that, let me introduce myself. My name is Zeby Lerven. I'm a member of the Deep Green village council."

He gestured with his chin toward the village head beside him. "And this man here is Drekson Raves."

"I'm Eldric Liora," Eldric replied simply.

Zeby nodded, his expression neutral. "I apologize if you felt wronged by being detained, but these are our safety measures. We've had... certain circumstances in the past, so we've learned to be careful when dealing with outsiders."

Eldric remained silent. Having been dragged around and detained all day, he was too tired to argue.

From under the desk, Zeby retrieved a glass container holding a vine with soft, glowing leaves. He removed the cover, and a faint aura flickered around him as the vine began to stir.

The vine wiggled slightly before inching toward Eldric's wrist. He flinched at the cool, unfamiliar touch.

"Don't worry," Zeby said in a reassuring tone. "This vine determines whether what you say is the truth or a lie. It won't harm you."

Hearing that, Eldric relaxed his hands, though he remained cautious. He wasn't lying—he genuinely had no memory of who he was or where he came from.

"First," Zeby said, his eyes steady on Eldric, "you said your name is Eldric Liora."

"Yes."

The vine's leaves glowed brighter, releasing a faint, pleasant aroma reminiscent of fresh herbs.

Eldric glanced at the vine, unsure of what the reaction meant. Before he could ask, Zeby had already moved on to the next question.

"You said you can't remember anything?" Zeby asked, his tone calm but firm.

"Yes."

The vine glowed faintly with each answer, releasing the same soft herbal aroma. Eldric watched it warily, but the reaction never changed, no matter how many questions Zeby asked.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Zeby said finally, his voice calm but thoughtful.

With a small gesture, Zeby sent out a faint aura toward the vine. It responded immediately, uncoiling itself from Eldric's wrist and returning to the glass container with a smooth, almost deliberate motion.

Eldric watched the process, his amazement clear as the vine settled back into the jar, its soft glow dimming slightly.

"What is your plan now?" Drekson asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Eldric paused, mulling over the question. He wasn't sure how to answer. After a moment of processing his current situation, he shook his head.

"I actually don't know," he admitted. "I'm not familiar with this place, and I'm not sure where I should go."

Drekson and Zeby exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

"You might have noticed," Drekson began, his tone firm but not unkind, "but we don't welcome outsiders in this village. We have our reasons."

Eldric stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"We can make a concession," Drekson said, his gaze steady, "but you'll need to stay outside the village's vicinity."

Eldric raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"There's a shed near the entrance of the Verdant Grove," Drekson continued. "It was used by hunters in the past, but it's vacant now. We can allow you to stay there, but you won't be permitted to enter the village unless we say otherwise."

"Don't worry," Zeby added, his voice softer and almost apologetic. "The forest has plenty of food and resources. You should be able to manage on your own."

Eldric resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The message was clear—they were giving him a place to stay, but the unspoken warning to stay out of trouble hung heavily in the air.

It might have seemed a bit harsh, but Eldric knew this was probably the best consideration they could offer. He nodded, deciding to accept their terms for now.

After the interrogation, the guards led Eldric back to the forest's entrance. The sky had dimmed, and the cool breeze of early nighttime brushed against his face.

"The shed is just a short-distance away. You should be able to find it," one of the guards said curtly.

Drekson had handed him a few items before he left—a used blanket, a small bag, and a stern warning to avoid venturing too deep into the woods. Eldric appreciated the lamp they provided, its soft glow illuminating the dark path ahead. Oddly enough, he felt no fear as he walked. Perhaps the exhausting events of the day had left him numb to the eerie atmosphere.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he spotted the shed in the distance. The structure was small and simple, made of rough bricks with a roof of large green leaves.

The key turned stiffly in the lock, creaking as he pushed the door open. A faint scent of old wood and damp earth greeted him as he stepped inside.

The lamp's flickering light cast dancing shadows across the interior. Cobwebs hung from the low ceiling, and a thick layer of dust covered the sparse furniture: a small, rickety bed by a narrow window, a worn table, and a single chair in the corner, their edges softened by years of use.

The quiet was broken only by faint rustling sounds from the forest outside, adding to the sense of isolation that filled the cramped space.

As he glanced around, his lamp caught faint etchings carved into the rough brick walls. Shapes? No, they looked like fragments of letters—or symbols. They shifted and danced under the flickering light, just out of reach, as though they were alive. Shaking his head, he dismissed it as a trick of the shadows. For now, rest was his priority.

Synchronization of the world's data, 100% completed. Commencing.

The voice was cold and mechanical, devoid of emotion, yet it felt invasive, like it was inside his very being. Eldric's body froze, his breath catching in his throat as his vision blurred. A searing pressure filled his mind, and his limbs felt both heavy and weightless, like they were no longer his own. The world around him spiraled into darkness.

"Ah... shit," he muttered weakly, the words barely escaping his lips before everything went black.

As the darkness consumed him, a faint, echoing whisper tickled the edges of his mind. It wasn't the cold, mechanical voice of synchronization—but something older, deeper, and familiar.

For a fleeting moment, the endless shelves of the Archive flickered in his mind—rows upon rows of ancient tomes stretching into infinity, bathed in a faint, ethereal glow. The image was gone as quickly as it came, leaving an ache of familiarity he couldn't place.

Before he could grasp it, the void overtook him.