Kaelen didn't know where he was. Just that it sucked.
The forest around him was quiet—too quiet. Every leaf crackle or bird call felt like it was waiting to be something worse. He sat on a mossy rock, poking the dirt with a stick.
"Okay," he muttered. "Day one of being reborn with a trash system. Not dead yet. Yay, me."
His system panel hovered in front of his face like a smug reminder of how underwhelming his start was.
Skills:
Monster Tongue (Passive) – Understand and speak to monsters.
Self-Preservation (Passive) – Slightly harder to kill.
Basic Combat (Active) – Like swinging a stick and hoping for the best.
"Wow," he said flatly. "I'm basically a bilingual."
He stood up, glanced at the surrounding trees, and picked a direction at random. All of it looked the same—green, damp, and like it was waiting to eat him. He hadn't walked ten steps before a branch smacked him in the face.
"Right," he grumbled, pushing through, "forgot forests hate me."
Ten more minutes of stumbling and cursing later, his legs were starting to ache. The ground sloped down into a shallow ravine where a small stream trickled. He knelt down, cupped water in his hands, and drank.
It was cold. Clean enough. He splashed some on his face.
"Alright," he breathed. "I need shelter. Food. Fire. Tools. Clothes that aren't these ragged reincarnation pajamas."
[New Objective: Survive Until Morning]
"Oh thanks," Kaelen muttered at the system prompt. "Helpful."
That's when he heard it: a low growl, deep in the trees.
He froze.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
It stepped into view—a hellhound. Bigger than any dog should be. Black fur, glowing red eyes, and smoke curling from its nostrils.
Kaelen's mouth went dry. "Nope. Nope. You're a boss monster. You are not supposed to be here."
The beast snarled, hackles raised, staring straight into Kaelen's soul.
Then it spoke.
"You smell like fear and disappointment."
Kaelen blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," the hellhound growled. "Weak. Confused. Like a lost meatball."
"Did you just call me a meatball?"
"You understood me?"
Kaelen raised a shaky hand. "Yeah, I have… Monster Tongue."
The hellhound tilted its head. "Who gives a trash-tier human that skill?"
Kaelen shrugged. "God, apparently. After he laughed at me for being useless and reincarnated me out of pity."
A pause.
Then the hellhound barked out a laugh. "He mocked you and sent you here anyway? That's cold."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly Mr. Popular back on Earth either."
"Earth?"
"Other world. Don't worry about it."
The hellhound sniffed him. "You're not even worth chasing."
Kaelen nodded quickly. "Glad we agree. I taste terrible. Zero flavor. Negative seasoning."
The hellhound snorted. "You'd probably give me stomach worms. Still… you're interesting. Most humans scream. You're just sad and sarcastic."
"I contain multitudes."
The hellhound gave him a long look. "Don't come back through my den. Next time, I won't talk first."
And with that, it turned and melted back into the forest fog.
Kaelen's knees finally gave out.
[Quest Completed: Survive the Forest Encounter]
+500 System Points
+Trait Gained: "Silver Tongue (Lv. 1)" — Increases odds of surviving conversations you shouldn't.
"Great," Kaelen mumbled. "I leveled up in talking my way out of death. Truly, the hero's path."
He lay there a moment, staring at the canopy. The branches above swayed gently, as if amused.
Then his stomach growled. Loud.
"I get it, I get it," he muttered, hauling himself up. "Find food before I die of hunger. Step two."
He searched the edge of the stream, spotting a few mushrooms, berries, and some crunchy leaf-thing that maybe wouldn't kill him. He held one up.
"Are you edible?" he asked aloud.
"Depends how much you hate yourself," came a whispery voice from the bush.
Kaelen jumped. "Who said that?!"
A squirrel with bright yellow eyes poked its head out.
"Oh god," Kaelen said. "Another monster?"
"You talk funny," said the squirrel. "Your face is dumb."
Kaelen blinked. "Even the squirrels trash talk in this world?!"
"Only the smart ones."
The squirrel vanished into the branches. Kaelen stood there, stunned.
This world was insane. Everything had an attitude. He was one argument away from slapping a bird.
Still, he pulled together a handful of berries and leaves, found a dry patch near the stream, and built the saddest camp in history: rocks for a windbreak, moss for a blanket, and twigs stacked for a fire he couldn't light.
He sat down and chewed a leaf. It was bitter. Like his life.
But he was alive.
[Night Approaches]
A purple glow filled the sky as two moons rose, and the forest sounds shifted—distant howls, rustling wings, a low rumble far off.
Kaelen curled up, hugging his knees.
"This is fine," he muttered. "Totally fine. I didn't need a proper fire. Or a sword. Or pants."
Still, for all its madness, something in him stirred. The world was harsh. Unfair. But it was a clean slate.
A chance.
Kaelen didn't know what tomorrow would bring—but for the first time in a long time, he felt… something.
Not hope, exactly.
But maybe the start of it.