The story, ultimately, begins right before the isekai. 12 years ago, me being 15 at the time, I was in sophomore year of high school and just didn't want to live the life I was living anymore. I wasn't quite suicidal, but I just wanted something to change. I was living the life I now live, honestly, which I have come to appreciate after my long, long trip. These first few days are the best remembered, because I've thought about them the most.

  As I'd been doing for months at that point, I was going to sleep while holding onto an invisible rope above my bed. This was before added in a swirling storm around myself, so it was just the rope. I'm not sure how much music will be mentioned in here, but it's a big part of my mental state. Not much of it to be had on the island, though, so this may be the last I bring it up.

  Anyway, I fell asleep and when I woke up, my bed and I had been transported somewhere. I wasn't sure where at the time, but I heard battle out of the small cave I was in, under some tree stump. It would stop occasionally before starting back up soon after. I slept twice under there, hoping I didn't get found in my utterly defenseless state under some random tree stump in nothing by my shorts and underwear. At least I wasn't fat in high school like I'd been before and have been after, so running was at least somewhat in the cards if I'd been found.

  Some time on my third day there, another teen around my age found me between combat sessions. I don't remember pretty much anything about him, but he got me out of my hole, got me a shirt, and showed me the ground, littered with melee weapons of various sorts. Despite all the combat that must have been happening nearby, I didn't see a single dead body, which I didn't even think about at the time. I'm not even sure I noticed that fact at the time, but I've definitely noticed in the many times I've replayed these events.

  We talked a bit while walking somewhere. Apparently, my story was pretty standard. Teens wanted a different life, so we got one. I don't remember where we were supposed to be headed, but we heard gunshots and the guy picked up a weapon and ran toward the sound, saying that the enemy was here and we needed to hurry. I don't remember what he got, but I followed after, not thinking to take a weapon with me as he had. He must have been there quite a bit longer than I had if his first instinct was to grab a weapon when he heard gun shots.

  After a bit of running, where quite a few other teens ran away from the gunshots like smart people, we saw a group of people in a circle, 2-3 people thick, depending on the exact spot, around something I couldn't see, but gunshots rang out a few times and people in the circle dropped. My new friend sped up faster than I could run. His lead expanded as I only then thought to get a weapon of my own, picking up a great sword, since, even back then, I liked them a lot. The noise he made as he approached the circle prompted them to open up and let him through, only for him to get shot, since he was now singled out and the only one rushing the trio I could now see.

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  I don't remember if I ever learned exactly what the circle's plan was, but it was probably to just wait out the magazines and hope they weren't the next ones shot in the process.

  Seeing my friend go down made me lose it and I also charged through the hole he'd had the circle open up. At that point, the guy who had shot him was looking elsewhere, shooting whoever got too close. I'm assuming he knew they had less bullets than there were bodies, so he only killed people that got too close, or something. I will never know his thought process, but when I charged in, he moved his gun toward me and I swung my torso down left.

  I've always had pretty good balance and walk with gravity being a major assistant, so what probably would have made someone else fall didn't slow me down much, but my head suddenly not being anywhere near where it was when the guy began his movement made him miss, and I got in close enough to send an untrained cut through his neck. It didn't decapitate him or anything, but did cut through his throat. My edge misalignment meant it was a more painful cut than it otherwise would have been and the tip of my sword hit his spine, making the already low powered slice not go all the way through, but it was enough.

  The other teen, probably unprepared for and unused to the pain, went down, rather than using his last few seconds you have to live with a bisected throat to take me down with him. He was surprised, I could tell. While it doesn't haunt me like you may expect from a soldier's first real kill, especially with such a short-distance kill, I do remember his face better than most.

  I'm sorry for the disorganized stream of thought here. I don't feel like editing this and I'm not the best story teller when I'm not just making stuff up.

  Anyway, with the surprise of their third going down, the remaining two were taken out by others in the circle taking them in their momentary lapse of vigilance.

  Given the fact we had melee weapons and they had guns, you're probably wondering why we didn't just take them at this point to use against the others that must exist, since I'd heard so much more gunfire than a single trio could reasonably output. I don't remember if we even knew why, but I do know that the guns just wouldn't work for us. Whether is was some weird biometric thing or whatever, we couldn't get the guns to shoot. I'm sure we tried making custom ones and loading bullets in them, but I know we just couldn't get any bullet-based weapons to work, for whatever reason.

  Spoilers, I guess, but we were stuck with melee weapons for a long time.

  Anyway, we started the cleanup, burying the dead and disposing of the guns. I don't remember who dug the graves, but I know it wasn't me. I don't remember what the reasoning given was, but basically, since I got first kill, I was allowed to just sit and process. Even at the time, I remember not really feeling bad for killing these people. They'd killed the first person I'd met in this new world, so I didn't and don't feel bad for killing them, whether or not their deaths mattered in any way.

  My memories are significantly less clear for the rest of the over 65 years I was there. While these few days filled out a little more than half of a chapter of what I'd normally release for my other stories, most other events, I just remember in a "this event happened" kind of way, rather than in any real detail.