One more level. Just one more boss fight, and then he'd rest. That was the plan.
He never made it to the boss.
BJ's eyes snapped open, but the world didn't make sense.
No engine hum. No muffled chatter of other students. No smell of old seat fabric and cheap floor wax.
Just silence. Heavy silence, the kind that presses against your eardrums.
He jerked upright, his heart leaping into his throat. The first thing he noticed was the ground—rough, uneven, and definitely not the rubberized bus floor. He was sitting on a bed of dry needles and dirt. The second thing was the smell. Sharp—pine, damp earth, and something metallic, like the air right before a massive storm. It felt alive.
He turned his head slowly, neck stiff.
Trees.
They were everywhere. Not like the thin, managed trees back home. These were titans—thick, gnarled trunks stretching endlessly into a sky that was a shade of blue that felt wrong. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in jagged streaks, casting broken, dancing shadows across the forest floor that looked almost like moving runes.
BJ blinked. Once. Twice. He waited for the bus driver to yell at him for sleeping past his stop.
"…No," he breathed.
He pushed himself up, stumbling as his cramped legs protested. His backpack straps dug into his hoodie, but at least he wasn't empty-handed.
"This isn't funny," he muttered, voice thin and small against the massive woods. He looked around, half-expecting a camera crew or friends to jump out laughing.
No one did. The forest just stared back.
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing a cold, circular object. He ignored it for a second and pulled out his phone. The screen lit up instantly. 90%. At least the battery was holding.
No service. No bars. Nothing.
"…Great. Dead zone. Or another dimension. Probably the dimension one," he whispered, spinning slowly. Roads? Power lines? Trash cans? Any sign of civilization? Nothing. Like the world had been copy-pasted a thousand times, and he was stuck in the middle.
BJ ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "Okay… think, BJ. Think."
The last thing he remembered: the bus heading back to school. Window seat. Level 42. Then… a flash? Or maybe a blackout. Now this.
He adjusted his backpack, gripping the strap until his knuckles turned white. Panic sat quietly in his chest, waiting for permission to go wild. He didn't give it that.
"Step one," he muttered, trying to channel the "main character" energy he'd seen in shows. "Find people. Random teleportation comes with a welcome center somewhere nearby. Obviously."
Each step felt loud. Crunch. Snap. The forest seemed to listen. His eyes flicked constantly—left, right, then up at the shifting canopy. Time passed… or maybe it didn't.
He lifted his phone again, holding it high. Still nothing.
"Fresh air and zero network. Mom would love this. Me? Not so much."
He shoved the phone back in his pocket. This time, he picked up the cold object again. A coin.
Heavy. Weathered gold, cracked nearly in two. A dragon motif snarled across its face. It hummed faintly, syncing with his heartbeat. Dangerous. He shoved it back down, skin crawling.
The deeper he went, the quieter it got. Not peaceful quiet—predator-nearby quiet. His stomach growled, a reminder that he was still human.
BJ found a fallen log and sat, pulling the backpack to his front. Inside: a change of clothes, a laptop, two cans of soda, and a bag of beef jerky.
"Not exactly a king's feast," he muttered, ripping into the jerky. The salt woke him up, just a little.
He leaned back, still tense, listening. The forest was waiting. Watching. Alive.
Minutes stretched. He pulled out the power bank, the built-in light flickering weakly. Carefully, he covered it with a shirt from his bag to avoid drawing attention. Not perfect, but it would do.
He took out his phone again, opened a game, and muted most of the volume. Just taps and faint noises. His eyes focused on something predictable, controlled. A small comfort.
Eventually, his exhaustion won. He powered off the game, set the light to a faint glow, and curled slightly around his backpack. Every sound made him flinch, every shadow seemed to move too fast.
Sleep came reluctantly.
When he woke, his muscles ached, his stomach growled, and the sun had dipped low, turning the leaves orange.
"…I hate this already," he muttered, voice rough.
But he was alive. Still in one piece. No missing limbs. No bite marks. Just… this forest.
He stood, tightened his backpack straps, and exhaled.
"Step two," he said quietly to himself. "Survive the night. Then… see what day two has in store."
A faint rustle echoed somewhere nearby. Not wind. Not a bird. Something alive. Something aware.
BJ swallowed hard, gripping his straps tighter. Step by step, deeper into the unknown. And for the first time, he realized: he had no idea what he had to do next.