3 - Forest

The church shrank behind her as Luna stepped off its crumbling stairway.

She half-expected the doors to slam shut on their own, trapping her inside forever like some haunted ruin. But they stayed open, yawning wide, as though mocking her with silence. The wind tugged at her hair as she walked down into the grassy field.

The field stretched endlessly, a sea of green rippling under the afternoon sun. The blades were tall enough to brush her thighs, bending in waves whenever the breeze passed.

Crickets sang hidden among them. A few scattered wildflowers painted streaks of color—blue, yellow, and white.

Luna stopped after a dozen steps and squinted toward the horizon. In the distance, a forest pressed dark against the sky, dense trees rising like an unbroken wall.

She could hear it faintly even from here, the rustle of branches in the wind, the caws of unseen birds.

She folded her arms, brow furrowed.

“So this is it.” Her voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the field. “No logout. No menu. Just… me.”

The words left a hollow taste. She chewed on them, like they might break into meaning if she repeated them enough. They didn’t.

Part of her still wanted to deny it. Surely, this was just some massive immersive update from the developers. Surely, someone would eventually pull her out, or the servers would reset, or she’d wake up drooling at her desk. That version of events was easier. Safer.

And yet the grass against her fingertips was too sharp, the sun too warm, the sweetness of the candy still melting in her mouth too vivid. She rolled it on her tongue, sighing.

“If this is a dream, it’s the rudest one I’ve ever had.”

Her steps slowed as she walked further into the field. She hugged her arms tighter around herself.

No matter how she tried to frame it—bug, dream, hidden expansion—the truth pressed heavier with every step.

This was her world now. Not the old one. Not the one with school, with tournaments, with her name announced to cheering fans. That reality was gone the moment she pressed Yes.

Now, she had to survive.

“Inventory,” she commanded.

Nothing.

“Open bag. Storage. Gear screen.”

Still nothing.

“Don’t tell me…”

Her hands patted herself down, but apart from her cloak, her boots, and the clothes her avatar had worn in the finals, she had nothing.

No bag, no gold, no potions, no stockpile of items she’d hoarded over three years of gameplay.

She froze, then groaned loudly. “Oh, come on. Really? You drop me in without an inventory?” She bit down on the candy so hard the crunch echoed.

Her mind spun. No inventory meant no access to her millions of gold coins. No high-tier gear. No food reserves. She was broke. Naked, in terms of supplies.

Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Hell difficulty, huh? Should’ve guessed. Of course, even here, they throw me in at the hardest mode.”

The bravado tasted bitter, but it steadied her.

She listed her necessities like a checklist, pacing through the tall grass as though moving helped her think.

“Food. Water. Shelter. Tools. And…” Her voice softened. “People. Or… something close to people.”

The idea of walking into a town crossed her mind. In-game, that was always the safest first step, buy supplies, gather quests, meet NPCs.

But this wasn’t just a game anymore. Without gold, what could she buy? Without potions or rations, how would she last?

She scowled. “Towns are a no-go. Broke queens don’t get respect.”

The field stretched on, merciless in its emptiness. No paths, no roads, no smoke in the distance. She wondered how long she could wander before night fell, and the thought sent a shiver crawling up her back.

Her jaw tightened. “Fine. Forest first. Food grows in forests, right? Berries, fruit… something. And if not, well—” she glanced down at her hands, flexing them as water magic shimmered faintly around her fingers “—I’ll figure it out.”

Her stomach rumbled as though mocking her. She pressed a hand against it with a groan.

“Great. Already starving, and it hasn’t even been a day.”

She let the last of the candy melt away on her tongue, savoring it as long as she could. When the sweetness was gone, she exhaled heavily, almost mournfully.

“That was the last one.”

Her steps slowed, her shoulders slumping for the first time since leaving the church. Reality pressed down again. No gold. No bag. No supplies. No logout.

But then she forced a laugh, straightening with deliberate flair. “So what? Queen of Legends Leagues doesn’t get taken down by hunger. Worst case, I just eat a monster. Easy.”

The grin that followed didn’t reach her eyes, but she wore it like armor anyway.

The grassy field seemed endless, but the forest finally began to loom closer after what felt like hours of walking. Shadows gathered under its canopy, a darker green swallowing the bright gold of the open field.

Luna stopped at the edge, resting her hand against the rough bark of a tree. It was solid, rougher than she expected, little flakes of moss crumbling under her touch. She rubbed her thumb against it thoughtfully.

“So this is where it starts, huh? Day one of… whatever this is.”

She tilted her head, eyeing the forest’s interior. It was beautiful, yes, but wild. A place where predators waited in silence, where shadows shifted without warning.

In-game, forests like these were always crawling with monsters. Wolves. Goblins. Things that leapt at you from the undergrowth.

The thought made her pulse quicken—not with fear, but with anticipation.

She grinned, sharp and eager. “Come on, then. Show me what you’ve got.”

She stepped into the forest expecting an ambush, bracing herself for glowing eyes or snapping jaws.

Instead, the only sound was the crunch of her boots on the leaf litter. Birds fluttered overhead, their wings beating the canopy. Insects hummed lazily.

No monsters. No aggressive wildlife. Just ordinary trees and ordinary sounds.

She walked deeper, scowling.

“Really? All this buildup, and not even a slime?”

Her fingers twitched, aching to summon a spell just for the thrill of it, but she resisted. Mana wasn’t infinite, even at her level. Better to conserve it.

She sighed. “Figures. I ask for monsters, and the world plays shy. But if I didn’t want them, they’d be all over me already. That’s how it goes.”

Still, disappointment lingered like a stone in her chest. She’d wanted to test herself, to prove that her number-one spot translated to this reality. The silence left her unsettled.

The forest path wasn’t much of a path at all—just spaces between roots and rocks where her boots could fit. She pushed aside branches, stepped over fallen logs, listening all the while for something more than birdsong.

Her stomach growled again, louder this time. She groaned dramatically. “Fine, fine. Food first, glory later.”

She scanned the trees for fruit, for berries, for anything resembling a meal. Nothing but leaves and bark. Her smirk faltered, replaced by something closer to worry.

“Don’t tell me this really is hell difficulty,” she muttered.

The forest answered with silence.

She pressed forward, deeper into the shadows.

Luna’s boots crunched over twigs and dry leaves as she pushed further into the forest. The canopy thickened overhead, blotting out most of the sunlight. Shafts of gold broke through in slanted beams, casting her path in shifting mosaics of light and shadow.

Her silver eyes scanned for food, berries tucked under leaves, nuts fallen among the roots, anything edible. But the forest offered nothing. Just leaves. Bark. Moss.

Her stomach growled again, louder this time, a long complaint that made her grimace. She clutched her abdomen dramatically, tilting her head back toward the canopy.

“Really? The world’s strongest mage brought down by hunger. That’s how this story ends?” She sighed, letting the performance drop. “Not happening.”

Still, the ache in her belly deepened.

Movement flickered at the edge of her vision. Luna froze, hand rising instinctively, magic thrumming at her fingertips.

Two rabbits hopped into a patch of light ahead, their ears twitching as they nibbled at grass. A squirrel darted across a log, its tail a bright, bushy banner.

Luna exhaled. Her stance softened. The magic dimmed.

“Seriously? Rabbits?” she muttered. “I ask for monsters and get… bunnies.”

Her stomach made another sound, sharper this time. She swallowed, eyeing the rabbits with a calculating expression.

She could do it. One quick Water Bullet, and dinner was handled. Their meat would be fresh. Protein, sustenance, everything she needed.

But the rabbits looked up at her, their noses twitching. One of them tilted its head, ears flopping.

Luna’s mouth twitched. Then she groaned, throwing her hands in the air.

“Ugh, no. Forget it. You’re too damn cute. I’m not a monster.”

The rabbits darted away at her outburst, vanishing into the brush. The squirrel disappeared too, scolding her with a sharp chik chik chik before it vanished up a tree.

She pressed a hand against her forehead, laughing at herself. “Great. Number-one ranked, and I can’t even kill a rabbit.”

Her hunger gnawed harder. But her conscience gnawed harder still.

A faint sound reached her ears, the trickle of water. Her sensitivity perked up, guiding her like a compass. She followed the noise, weaving through thick undergrowth, until the forest parted to reveal a stream.

It wasn’t wide—maybe four meters across—but the water ran clear and fast, sunlight glinting off its surface. Silver flashes darted beneath, fish moving in quick schools.

Luna’s lips curled into a smug grin. “Now we’re talking.”

She crouched near the bank, the scent of damp earth filling her nose. She lifted her hand. “Water Bullet.”

Mana thrummed. A sphere of water formed, dense and spinning. She aimed at a darting fish, then snapped her wrist.

Swish—splash!

Water exploded, droplets spraying her cloak. When the ripples cleared, a stunned fish floated to the surface.

Luna whooped. “Ha! Got you!” She waded in up to her ankles, grabbing the fish with both hands. Its scales glistened in the light, slippery and cold. It flopped wildly, nearly slipping free, but she tightened her grip.

“One down.” She smirked. “Dinner is served.”

Catching fish was the easy part. Cooking it was another problem entirely.

Luna sat on a rock near the stream, the fish flopping helplessly on a flat stone in front of her. She tapped her chin, thinking.

“Okay, Aqua. No firewood. No matches. No flint. Inventory’s gone. But…”

She flexed her fingers. A ripple of cold air swirled around her hand, condensing moisture into ice. A blade of frozen water extended from her palm, clear and sharp.

“There we go.” She twirled the ice knife once, smug. “Culinary genius incoming.”

Scaling the fish wasn’t as graceful as she imagined. Scales flew, sticking to her cloak and hair. She cursed under her breath but kept at it, sawing and scraping until the flesh gleamed. Then she sliced it open, removing the innards with a grimace.

“God, they never animated this part in the game…” she muttered, flicking a bit of slime into the grass.

Still, she filleted it as best as she could, the ice knife surprisingly precise. Soon, she had uneven but edible cuts of fish laid out on a stone.

Next problem, cooking.

Luna tapped her lip, thinking. She could freeze water easily enough, but heat? She’d never tried before.

“Let’s see…” She cupped her hands, summoning a ball of water. With a deep breath, she willed the molecules to move faster, and faster, vibrating with energy. Heat built in her palms. Steam began to rise.

The sphere trembled, its surface bubbling.

Her eyes widened. “No way. I can boil it?”

Laughing, she shaped the boiling water into a floating bubble, large enough to hold the fillets. She dropped the fish inside, watching them twist and whiten in the scalding liquid. The smell of cooking fish filled the air—sharp, briny, but undeniably food.

Luna leaned back, smug. “Who needs campfires when you’re a water mage? Efficient and stylish.”

Ten minutes later, she fished the fillets out with a conjured fork of ice. They steamed in the air, dripping hot water. She blew on one, then took a bite.

The taste hit her tongue.

She froze. Chewed. Swallowed.

“…That’s it?”

It wasn’t bad. Just bland. Utterly bland. No salt. No herbs. No spices. Just fish boiled in plain water.

Her smug grin collapsed into a pout. She stabbed another piece with her ice fork, scowling. “All that effort, and I get… wet cardboard.”

Still, she ate. Hunger didn’t care about flavor. Bite after bite vanished until only bones and scraps remained. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sighing.

“Okay. Not delicious. But survivable.”

Her throat itched from the dryness of the bland fish. She cupped her hands again, summoning a small orb of crystal-clear water. She sniffed it cautiously. No metallic tang, no smell. Just water.

She sipped. The liquid was cool, clean, perfect. Relief flooded her body as she drank deeply.

At least water wouldn’t be a problem. That thought gave her some comfort.

With her hunger dulled and her thirst quenched, Luna stood. The stream gurgled behind her as she adjusted her cloak and set off again.

She walked deeper into the forest, waiting for the ambush that never came. No wolves. No goblins. Not even a slime.

Hours passed. The sun dipped lower, shadows lengthening. Still nothing.

Finally, she stopped, leaning against a tree.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Either I’m the luckiest person alive… or…”

Her eyes narrowed, glinting with thought.

“…I’m in a safe zone.”

The words felt heavy in her mouth.

She pushed off the tree, striding forward with renewed determination. If this was a safe zone, then the real dangers—and the real answers—lay beyond.

Her grin returned, sharp and defiant.

“Fine. Let’s see how far the safe zone goes.”

And with that, Luna vanished deeper into the forest shadows.