—D—

  Okay. Okay! Deep breaths, D. Deep breaths.

  This was it. This was actually happening! Isekai’d! Transported to another world! My inner monologue was basically just a string of high-pitched squeals and a mental montage of every fantasy anime opening I’d ever seen.

  Somehow, the amnesia hadn’t erased the most important aspect of my life—my vast, encyclopedic knowledge of geek culture. I could barely remember my own name, but I could recite entire seasons of Black Mirror and The Clone Wars with perfect clarity. Holy moly, I even remembered how much money I’d wasted on Star Citizen.

  Forget the rags we were wearing. Forget Jay’s perpetual scowl and Zeta’s impressive ability to look half-dead while upright. We were here—in a world that practically screamed adventure awaits!

  My feet crunched on fallen leaves, a rhythm that felt like the opening theme to the greatest RPG ever. Sunlight, or what little of it pierced the dense canopy above, dappled the forest floor, making everything look like it was rendered with next-gen graphics. Even the slightly ominous silence, broken only by our footsteps and the occasional distant, unidentifiable bird call, felt… atmospheric!

  Jay, of course, was having none of my internal glee. "Keep your eyes peeled," he’d grumbled before we set off. "And for heaven's sake, try not to trip." Classic Jay.

  Before we’d even taken ten steps, he’d made us arm ourselves. Practical, I guess. Jay, ever the pragmatist, had grabbed the sturdiest, longest branch he could find, about the length of a short sword. He wielded it like a discount Gandalf, minus the beard and the actual magic. Still, it looked like it could deliver a nasty thwack.

  Zeta, in a shocking display of effort that probably cost him a week's worth of sleep energy, had actually tried to craft something. He’d found a reasonably sharp-edged rock and attempted to lash it to a shorter, thicker stick with some tough-looking vines he’d painstakingly stripped. His goal, I think, was a rustic axe.

  The reality? Well, the rock was now loosely tethered to the stick, wobbling precariously. It looked less like a weapon and more like a toddler's art project gone very, very wrong. A ‘misery-mace,’ I dubbed it internally. He looked even more tired after the attempt, if that was possible.

  Me? I went for finesse! Or, well, what passed for it. I tore more strips from my already ruined tunic – farewell, dignity, you were overrated anyway! – and fashioned a pretty decent sling. Primitive, sure, but hey, David took down Goliath with one, right? Okay, maybe this forest didn't have giants, but it probably had… I don’t know… giant squirrels? The possibilities were endless! Plus, it felt very "protagonist with an unconventional weapon" chic.

  "So," I began, unable to contain myself any longer as we trudged along, Jay in the lead, me practically bouncing beside him, and Zeta dragging himself and his rock-on-a-stick somewhere behind us.

  "Theories! We need theories! What's the consensus on our current, rather exciting predicament?"

  Jay sighed, a sound that could curdle milk. "Exciting is one word for it. 'Potentially lethal existential crisis' is another. My leading theory is that we're subjects in some kind of advanced simulation or unethical experiment. The memory loss, the tattoos, the sudden 'System' interface… it all points to external manipulation."

  "A simulation?" I pondered. "Like, The Matrix? Or maybe more like Sword Art Online but without the cool NerveGear intro? That could be it! Maybe we're beta testers for the ultimate Full Dive VRMMORPG!" My eyes widened. "Oh! Are we going to get skill trees? And classes? I call dibs on Mage! Or maybe a Ranger, since I’ve got the sling!"

  "If this is a game, D," Jay said, his voice flat, "it has a remarkably poor tutorial and the starting gear is atrocious. And if it's an experiment, the ethics committee needs to be shot."

  Zeta’s voice, a low groan from the rear, startled me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. "Or we angered a particularly petty deity. This has all the hallmarks of a divine smiting. Cursed to wander, stripped of identity, forced to endure… D’s cheerfulness."

  "Hey!" I protested, though I couldn't help but grin. "My cheerfulness is a tactical advantage! It boosts morale!"

  "It boosts my desire for a very long nap," Zeta mumbled.

  "Look," Jay cut in, swatting a low-hanging branch out of his face with his stick-sword. "The 'why' is less important right now than the 'how'. How do we survive the next twenty-four hours? That System message was pretty clear about 'Potential System Deletion'."

  "Deletion means death, doesn't it?" I said, a little of my excitement deflating. "That's… less fun."

  "Astute observation," Jay deadpanned. "Which is why we need to focus on the quest. Water, shelter, food."

  Food. My stomach chose that exact moment to issue a long, mournful rumble that echoed impressively in the quiet woods. I clutched it, blushing slightly. "Right. Food. Definitely food."

  It was then, as if summoned by my very hunger, that I saw it. A flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. Low to the ground, darting between the ferns. Brown fur. Long ears.

  "Rabbit!" I hissed, pointing, my hunter instincts – newly discovered and probably terrible – kicking in. My stomach gave another enthusiastic gurgle. Saliva flooded my mouth. Visions of roasted rabbit, crispy skin, tender meat…

  Jay started to say, "D, wait, don't just—"

  But I was already gone.

  "Food!" I yelled, breaking into a sprint, sling forgotten for the moment. Pure, primal need propelled me. That rabbit wasn't just food; it was XP! It was survival! It was probably delicious!

  "D, you idiot, get back here!" Jay shouted behind me.

  "Hold up… too fast…" came Zeta’s wheezing complaint.

  I barely heard them.

  My eyes were locked on the furry prize as it bounded deeper into the undergrowth. It was surprisingly quick, zigging and zagging, but I was fueled by the potent combination of adrenaline and an empty stomach. I crashed through bushes, vaulted over fallen logs (or stumbled, depending on your definition of 'vaulted'), and ignored the branches whipping at my face.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The rabbit darted around a particularly thick copse of thorny bushes. I skidded to a halt, then plunged in after it, gritting my teeth as thorns tore at my already tattered clothes and scratched my skin. "Almost… got you… you fluffy little… morsel!"

  I burst out the other side into a small, shadowed clearing. And there it was.

  Except… it wasn't a rabbit. Not anymore.

  It stood on its hind legs, and it was big. Easily waist-high on me. The fur was still a mottled brown, but it was coarser, spikier. The "long ears" were more like bony antennae, twitching erratically. Its eyes glowed a baleful, hungry red. And its mouth… oh, its mouth was a nightmare. It split open far too wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth, like a furry, demonic piranha. Its front paws, held up like a boxer’s, ended in claws that looked like they could gut a boar.

  It let out a sound that was definitely not a cute bunny noise. It was a low, guttural snarl, mixed with a series of rapid, clicking sounds.

  My triumphant grin froze on my face. "Uh… Mr. Rabbit? You seem to have… evolved."

  Jay and Zeta crashed into the clearing behind me, panting.

  "D, what in the—" Jay stopped short, his eyes widening as he took in the creature. "Seven hells."

  Zeta, for once, looked almost awake. "Told you. Purgatory. That's a demon bunny."

  The creature, which I was now mentally dubbing the ‘Snare-Jawed Hop-Fiend’ (I’d workshop the name later), fixed its crimson gaze on me, its nose twitching. It took a step forward. Then another.

  "Okay," I squeaked, fumbling for my sling, my hands suddenly slick with sweat. "New plan. Tactical retreat?"

  "No!" Jay barked, shifting his grip on the stick. "I'm not turning my back on something that can rip us apart in a single jump! We have to fight it!"

  The Hop-Fiend chose that moment to launch itself. Not at me, the closest target, but at Zeta. Smart monster! Go for the squishiest-looking one!

  "Zeta, move!" I yelled.

  Zeta, to his credit, reacted with surprising speed for someone usually operating at sloth-like velocity. He didn't so much dodge as stumble backwards, swinging his 'misery-mace' in a wild, panicked arc. The rock at the end connected with the side of the Hop-Fiend’s head with a dull thwack.

  It wasn't a knockout blow, not by a long shot, but it did make the creature yelp and stagger, its red eyes blinking.

  "Holy crap, Zeta! You hit it!" I exclaimed, finally getting a smooth stone loaded into my sling.

  "Lucky," Zeta grunted, looking surprised at his own success, his face even paler than usual.

  The Hop-Fiend shook its head, then let out an enraged shriek and lunged again, this time claws outstretched. Jay met its charge, shoving the end of his branch into its chest. The creature bit down hard on the wood, splinters flying.

  "D! Now!" Jay yelled, struggling to keep the snapping jaws away from his hands.

  I whirled my sling, locking onto one of those glowing red eyes. Focus, D, focus! Think Bart Simpson—but with an extra finger!

  I let the stone fly.

  It missed the eye. By a lot. But it smacked the creature hard on its twitching snout.

  The Hop-Fiend yelped again, a higher-pitched sound this time, and released Jay’s stick, shaking its head violently. Jay stumbled back, grabbing his wrist. "Damn thing almost took my fingers off!"

  This was it. Our chance.

  "Zeta, keep it off balance!" I shouted, reloading. "Jay, go for its legs!"

  The fight devolved into a chaotic, desperate dance.

  I pelted the Hop-Fiend with stones from my sling, aiming for its face, its body, anything to distract it. Most of my shots went wide, but a few connected, eliciting angry snarls.

  Jay, using his longer reach, jabbed and poked with his stick, trying to create an opening, his face set in a grimace of concentration.

  Zeta, surprisingly, was proving to be more than dead weight. He swung his makeshift flail with a sort of weary determination, forcing the creature to dodge its clumsy but surprisingly painful-looking impacts. He even managed to whack its knee once, making it stumble.

  The Hop-Fiend was fast, though. Incredibly fast. It darted and weaved, its claws flashing. One swipe caught my arm, tearing through cloth and skin. I yelped, pain lancing up to my shoulder. Another lunge nearly disemboweled Zeta, who only avoided it by falling flat on his ass with an "oof."

  "It's too quick!" Jay grunted, parrying a vicious bite with his stick, which was now looking decidedly chewed-up.

  "We need to… coordinate!" I panted, clutching my bleeding arm. My earlier excitement was rapidly being replaced by a very real fear, but the LitRPG part of my brain was still whirring. Boss fight! Low-level boss fight! We need a strategy!

  "Zeta!" I yelled. "When it lunges, try to trip it with your… rock thing! Jay, be ready to strike when it's down!"

  "And what are you going to do, cheerlead?" Jay shot back, narrowly avoiding a claw to the face.

  "Distraction!" I yelled, and with a surge of adrenaline, I charged towards the Hop-Fiend, screaming at the top of my lungs, "Hey, ugly! Over here! Bet you can't catch me, you overgrown furball!"

  It worked. The red eyes swiveled to me. It snarled, abandoning its focus on Jay, and bounded towards me.

  Oh crap, this was a bad idea!

  I dodged its first pounce by a hair's breadth, feeling the wind of its passage. It skidded, turned, and came at me again.

  "Now, Zeta, now!" I shrieked, jumping back.

  As the Hop-Fiend lunged past where I’d been, Zeta, from his position on the ground, swung his flail with all his might. The rock connected squarely with the creature's outstretched back leg. There was a sickening crunch.

  The Hop-Fiend howled, a sound of pure agony, and collapsed, its leg twisting at an unnatural angle.

  Jay didn't hesitate. He leaped forward, stick held like a spear, and drove the sharpened end deep into the creature's exposed side, right beneath its ribs. He put his whole weight into it.

  The Hop-Fiend thrashed, letting out one last, gurgling shriek, and then went still. Its red eyes faded to a dull, lifeless black.

  Silence descended on the small clearing, broken only by our ragged breathing.

  I stared at the dead creature, my heart hammering against my ribs. My arm throbbed. My legs felt like jelly.

  "We… we did it," I breathed, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up. "We actually did it!"

  Jay pulled his stick free with a grunt, a dark, viscous fluid coating the end. He looked exhausted but grimly satisfied. "Don't celebrate yet. Check Z."

  Zeta was still on his back, staring up at the canopy, his chest heaving. "I think… I need… another nap. A very… long one." But he gave a weak thumbs-up.

  And then, that beautiful, beautiful ding sound. The System message shimmered into existence before my eyes.

  [Combat Victory!]

  [Fangbit (Lesser Beast) Defeated!]

  [Party Members Gained: 25 Experience Points Each!]

  A wide, triumphant grin spread across my face, chasing away the pain and fear. "Twenty-five XP! See, Jay? I told you this was like a game! We just beat our first mini-boss!"

  Jay actually cracked a small, tired smile. "Alright, D. Alright. Maybe… just maybe… you’re not entirely wrong."

  Zeta just groaned. But even his groan sounded a little less despairing than usual.

  We had food. We had XP. We had survived. And this, I thought, looking at the glowing System message, was only the beginning. This world was dangerous, sure, but it was also undeniably, incredibly awesome.

  This was the best time of my life.