Darkness.
A damp, rotten smell fills the air. The sound of heavy chains rattling echoes through the void.
A boy sits curled up in the corner of a cold, stone prison cell. His hair is messy, his clothes are torn, and his breath is ragged. His wide, terrified eyes dart around the small, dimly lit room.
His hands tremble as he grips his head.
"How... How did this happen to me..?" His voice cracks with disbelief. His breathing quickens, panic rising.
"No... No, this can't be real! I thought this kind of thing only existed in fiction!!"
Then, as if the weight of reality finally crushes him, he throws his head back and screams—
"GOD…!! YOU MUST BE KIDDING ME!!!??"
His desperate cry echoes through the empty prison.
Then—silence.
Everything fades to black.
We go back... to where it all began.
It was 2025.
A 16-year-old boy named Sang was living in the heart of India's capital—New Delhi—having moved there two years ago with his big, noisy family.
He was the definition of ordinary. Not tall, not short. Not ugly, not hot. Just... average.His greatest joy? Anime, manhwa, web novels, games—you name it.
That weekend was shaping up to be a good one. Peaceful. Quiet. No school, no drama. Just him and his laptop.
Crack! He stretched, his back popping as he exhaled in relief.
"Ahhh, that feels good..."
He plopped onto the soft carpet—black t-shirt, loose shorts—his perfect battle gear for a day of binge-watching.
He looked around. The house was eerily quiet.
"Huh? Where's everybody gone?" He waited. No answer." Weird... Whatever. Not like I care! Time to find something juicy to read on Web novel."
He grinned, pulling open the site.
Pages upon pages of colorful covers and catchy titles flew past his screen.
"Ahh! There's too much! I don't know which to choose!"
He kept scrolling.
Then—something caught his eye.
A newly uploaded novel. No ratings. No reviews. Just a strange cover... a lone man holding an unusual sword.
Sang stopped scrolling.
"LORD OF THE ISEKAI..." he read the title aloud.
"Hmm... Sounds interesting."
He hovered over it.
But suddenly...His finger trembled. A cold shiver ran down his spine. His heart beat faster.
Don't click that.
It wasn't a voice, but a feeling. Like something in his soul screaming danger. He hesitated, eyes narrowing.
"…Tch. I'm probably just hungry."
He clicked the novel.
The synopsis appeared:
When an ordinary boy opens the wrong story... he awakens in chains.
And then—BOOM. Everything went black.
Unconscious. Weightless. Silent.
Sang slowly regained awareness. His body ached, and something wet trickled down his forehead.
His vision was blurry, but light and color began to form.
He blinked, trying to make sense of the world.
"What... happened to me...?"
The first thing he saw made his blood freeze.
A man's severed head... inches from his face. Its bloodshot eyes stared straight at him.
"Hah!?" Sang gasped, scrambling backward in terror.
He looked around, heart racing.
He was lying on the ground outside a burning village. Screams filled the air. Fire devoured rooftops. People ran and died. It was chaos.
He was surrounded by bodies, smoke, and death.
"No, no, no... this isn't real...This CAN'T be happening!!"
But it was. The smell. The heat. The fear. It was too real.
Then—heavy footsteps behind him. A shadow loomed over his body.
A deep voice growled:" Take this one. He looks weak."
Another voice replied:" Chain him."
Sang turned his head, trembling.
A man in battered armor stood there, holding a blood-soaked axe, eyes cold and uncaring.
Sang opened his mouth to scream—
But the world went black again.
When Sang finally regained consciousness, the world around him was swaying.A rough wooden cart creaked beneath him, wheels groaning as it rolled through muddy terrain.Cold iron shackles dug into his wrists.
Confused, he looked around—dozens of others were packed into the cart with him, chained like animals. Men, women… most wore torn clothes and haunted expressions. No one spoke.
Panic surged in his chest. He tried to stand, to scream—but froze when he met the eyes of the others.
They weren't fighting. They weren't hoping.
Their eyes… were hollow.
That's when he realized.
These were no mere prisoners.
They were merchandise.
Slaves—headed toward a fate worse than death.
And he was one of them.
This… was Aethernia.
A world devoured by conflict, soaked in endless war… and mercy long forgotten.
He glanced around again—and saw two more carts ahead of them, just like his, filled with others bound in chains.
Surrounding them were armed bandits, walking alongside the convoy like guards—grimy, scarred, and always watching. These weren't random thugs. They were organized, ruthless, and had done this many times before.
The caravan moved steadily along a dirt road, cutting through a forest thick with fog and silence.
Their destination?
Gravemire Town—a place infamous across The Forsaken Kingdom. A cesspool of corruption, blood trade, and the blackest of markets.
Especially... slavery.
After traveling for what felt like hours, the convoy finally reached a flatter, well-worn road. But peace didn't last long.
In the distance—dust. Hooves. Dozens of mounted men riding in fast from the east.
A rebel group?
No… something worse.
An armed faction, possibly terrorists or revolutionaries, thundered in—nearly a hundred strong. The bandits, only half their number, stopped the convoy and readied their weapons nervously.
Sang tensed, watching from inside the cart. His wrists still chained, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
"Are they going to fight…? Who are they…?" he thought.
The leaders of both factions stepped forward, exchanging sharp glares.
The rebel leader—cloaked in crimson armor and a half-broken mask—spoke first in a language Sang had never heard before:
"I hier duhn yo fucking waster nocking of the yagon fortility no lester at dafton creek? Got quiry assdon in son potick?"
Sang blinked, confused.
"What language is that...? French? Spanish? Or something else entirely?"
He didn't know it yet, but he was hearing the common language of Human Race known as Vel'Khari.
The rebel leader's eyes narrowed, his voice cold and sharp." You filthy scum… Preying on the helpless to survive? You call this survival?"
The bandit captain chuckled as if he'd heard a joke." Oh, come now, Lieutenant. These people are strays in a lawless land. It's their fault for wandering into our claws. They should've chosen better roads."
He grinned deviously." But... why don't we make a deal, eh? After all, we're not that different."
Tension sparked like dry flint. Both men locked eyes — no one moved, but everyone felt it: a single twitch could start a bloodbath.
One of the rebels approached the Lieutenant quietly and muttered," Sir, we don't have time to waste on trash like them. The Chief's summoned all units... sounds like a battle's coming. We should preserve our strength."
The rebel leader didn't respond right away. His eyes scanned the slave carts until they stopped on the first one — the cart where Sang sat. He raised his hand and pointed.
"We'll take that cart. Those men might prove useful later."
The bandit let out a wheezing laugh,"Kekekeh... fine by me! A deal then!"
The rusty cart doors creaked open. One by one, the chained prisoners were pulled out and shoved toward the rebels. Sang stepped out cautiously, still dazed and disoriented, trying to process everything.
His mind raced:" Where am I…? Who are these people? What kind of world is this?" Then, a chilling thought echoed in his head:" I need to get out of here… I think… I think I went back in time."
"Am I…?"
To be continued…