Alina adjusted her earbuds, letting the familiar notes of her favorite indie playlist drown out the world. She walked briskly through the crowded city streets, clutching a to-go cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. Her days were a whirlwind of work and trying to carve out moments of peace in a chaotic world. The 24-year-old graphic designer often dreamed of escaping—to anywhere but here.
"Same routine, different day." she muttered to herself as she reached her tiny apartment. The walls were adorned with posters from her favorite fantasy series, The Witcher. Ever since she'd played the games and read the books, she'd been obsessed. The gritty, complex world of Geralt of Rivia felt like an escape from the mundane.
Dropping her bag by the door, Alina plopped onto the couch and opened her laptop. She'd been replaying The Witcher 3 for the umpteenth time, savoring every choice and story arc. Tonight, though, something felt... off. The screen flickered as the game loaded, and a strange, pulsing sound echoed through her headphones.
"What the—?" Alina frowned, tapping the keyboard. The screen glowed brighter, the sound intensifying until it felt like the room itself was vibrating. Before she could react, a blinding flash engulfed her.
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the smell. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth, pine, and something metallic. She was no longer in her apartment. She wasn't even in her city. Alina was lying on a forest floor, surrounded by towering trees and an eerie silence.
"What the hell is going on?" she whispered, sitting up and brushing dirt off her jeans. Her heart raced as she took in her surroundings. This wasn't possible. It looked like... but no, that was absurd.
A rustling sound snapped her out of her thoughts. Alina turned to see a figure approaching—a man clad in dark leather armor, with striking white hair and piercing yellow eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that face.
"Geralt?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.
The man's eyes narrowed. "You know me?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword.
Alina froze, her mind racing. This wasn't a dream. It felt too real. But how could she explain that she knew him from a video game? "Uh, sort of? It's... complicated."
Geralt's gaze didn't waver. "Complicated is putting it lightly. You don't look like you're from around here."
"You have no idea." Alina muttered, still trying to process what was happening. She glanced down at herself. Her jeans and hoodie looked completely out of place in this medieval setting. She must have looked as strange to him as he did to her.
Before she could say anything else, a low growl echoed through the trees. Geralt's expression hardened. "Stay behind me." he ordered, drawing his steel sword.
Alina's heart pounded as a massive creature lumbered into view. It was a Fiend, its antlers glinting in the dappled sunlight. She'd fought these in the game, but seeing one in real life was a different story. The sheer size and presence of the beast were overwhelming.
Geralt didn't hesitate. He moved with fluid precision, dodging the Fiend's swipes and landing calculated blows. Alina watched in awe, her fear momentarily forgotten as she witnessed the witcher in action. It was like watching a dance—deadly and mesmerizing.
But as the fight dragged on, Alina realized something was wrong. Geralt was skilled, but the Fiend was relentless. He was outmatched.
Without thinking, she grabbed a fallen branch and hurled it at the creature. It wasn't much, but it was enough to distract the Fiend for a split second. Geralt took the opportunity, driving his sword deep into the beast's chest. The Fiend let out a final roar before collapsing.
Geralt turned to Alina, his expression unreadable. "That was reckless." he said, sheathing his sword. "But effective."
Alina's legs felt like jelly. She sank to the ground, her adrenaline fading. "I can't believe this is happening." she whispered.
Geralt knelt beside her. "You're not from this world, are you?"
She shook her head. "No. And I have no idea how I got here."
He studied her for a moment, then sighed. "This world has a way of pulling people in. Come on. We need to get you somewhere safe."
Alina nodded, too overwhelmed to argue. As she followed Geralt through the forest, she couldn't help but wonder: was this a dream, a glitch in reality, or something else entirely? And more importantly, how was she going to survive in a world where monsters weren't just pixels on a screen?
Over the next few days, Alina learned just how dangerous and unforgiving the Continent could be. Geralt took her to a nearby village, where she managed to barter her wristwatch for a set of more appropriate clothes. The villagers were wary of her, muttering about curses and other superstitions, but Geralt's presence kept them from asking too many questions.
"You're lucky." Geralt said one evening as they sat by a campfire. "Most people who end up here don't last long."
Alina hugged her knees to her chest, staring into the flames. "I don't even know how I ended up here. One minute I was playing a game, and the next..."
Geralt raised an eyebrow. "A game?"
She hesitated. How could she explain modern technology to someone from a world like this? "It's... like a story. A way to experience your world without actually being here."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue. "Whatever brought you here, you're here now. You'll need to adapt."
Easier said than done, Alina thought. She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a mage. She was just a regular person who had no business being in a world like this. But as the days turned into weeks, she began to realize she had no choice. If she wanted to survive, she'd have to learn.
Under Geralt's reluctant guidance, Alina started to pick up basic survival skills. She learned how to identify edible plants, how to light a fire without matches, and even how to wield a dagger—though she was far from proficient. It was exhausting, but it gave her a sense of purpose.
She also began to see a different side of Geralt. Beneath his gruff exterior, he was patient and surprisingly understanding. He never mocked her for her mistakes, though he didn't sugarcoat things either. "This world doesn't care about fairness." he told her one night. "You either fight, or you die."
Alina nodded, her grip tightening on the dagger he'd given her. She'd made up her mind. She might not belong here, but she wasn't going to let this world break her.
And so, Alina's journey began—a journey that would take her across the Continent, through danger and discovery, and force her to confront not just the monsters of this world, but the ones within herself. Little did she know, her arrival was no accident. The threads of fate had been woven, and her presence in the Witcher's world would change it forever.