Mike jolted awake, gasping as though his lungs were fighting for air. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as he sat up. A shiver ran through his body, his skin damp and clammy. It was cold, the kind of deep, bone-chilling cold that sank into your marrow and wouldn’t let go. His breath misted in the air, swirling in the dim light.

Where am I?

He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The ground beneath him was hard, uneven, covered in something damp that felt like moss, but the air was thick with an unsettling stench of rot and decay. A dense fog surrounded him, wrapping everything in an eerie, shifting veil. The world beyond his immediate vision was a blur of twisted trees and dark shadows.

This wasn’t home. Home was... no, his memories were fragmented, slipping away the harder he tried to grasp them. He remembered his name—Mike—and that he had once lived a life of quiet monotony. But that life felt distant now, a dream compared to the sharpness of this place.

A rustling sound snapped his attention to the forest surrounding him. The fog seemed to pulse and writhe, alive with something unseen but dangerous. Mike’s pulse quickened. Panic gripped him as the sound grew louder, closer—something was moving through the mist.

Instinctively, he scrambled to his feet, his legs weak, trembling. He scanned the area but could barely see past the thick fog. His breathing quickened as the rustling grew into a low growl, guttural and menacing, coming from all sides.

Run. The thought cut through the panic, and without a second to consider it, he sprinted forward. His feet slipped over the damp, uneven ground, but adrenaline drove him onward. The forest blurred as he ran blindly, dodging around tree trunks and leaping over roots, desperate to escape whatever was hunting him.

But no matter how fast he ran, the growling followed, closer now, more distinct. His heart pounded in his ears, his lungs burning with every breath. He couldn’t outrun it. Whatever was out there, it was faster, and it was closing in.

Suddenly, his foot caught on something—a rock, maybe—and he went sprawling forward, crashing into the ground. Pain shot through his body as he hit the cold earth, dirt and leaves sticking to his palms. He gasped, trying to push himself up, but the growl was there—right behind him.

Mike twisted his body, his breath catching in his throat as he came face to face with the creature. It emerged from the fog, monstrous and massive, like a wolf but with glowing red eyes and fur that shimmered unnaturally. Its lips curled back, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

He froze, terror paralyzing him as the creature’s growl deepened, vibrating through the air. This was it. He was going to die here, torn apart in a world he didn’t understand. His chest tightened as he watched the beast crouch, ready to pounce.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him glowed. Mike’s eyes widened in shock as strange symbols—runes—etched themselves into the earth around him. They pulsed with a dim blue light, faint but growing stronger with each second. He felt a strange warmth rising from the symbols, seeping into his body.

The creature lunged, but instinctively, Mike threw his hands up. His muscles tensed, and without knowing how or why, a blast of light shot from his palms. The energy hit the beast mid-air, and it let out a howl of pain, knocked back by the force.

Mike stared at his hands, shaking. His pulse thundered in his ears. Did I... do that?

The beast snarled, its eyes locked on him, but it didn’t attack again. Instead, it let out a low, frustrated growl before retreating into the fog, disappearing as quickly as it had come.

Mike collapsed back onto the ground, his body trembling. The runes beneath him flickered, then faded into the dirt, leaving no trace behind. He lay there for a moment, panting, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

He had power—real power. But how? And why now? This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened in the mundane life he vaguely remembered. He didn’t have time to dwell on it. Not here.

He needed to find shelter.

Struggling to his feet, Mike looked around, the fog beginning to thin. In the distance, through the haze, he saw a faint glow. A village, maybe? He had no idea, but he didn’t have many options. He started walking, every step heavy, but determined. The light grew clearer as he approached—a settlement of some kind, with crude, wooden huts clustered together, and a faint warmth of firelight flickering through the mist.

As he neared the village, wary eyes met him. The people looked rough—hardened by survival. Their clothes were stitched from animal hides, and many of them carried weapons: crude swords, spears, and axes. The air of suspicion was palpable as they eyed him, a stranger in their midst.

A man stepped forward, broad-shouldered and scarred, with a large axe strapped to his back. His eyes were hard as he studied Mike.

“You don’t belong here,” the man said, his voice rough, like gravel. “What are you?”

Mike swallowed, unsure how to respond. “I... don’t know. I just woke up in the forest. I don’t know where I am.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his hand resting on the hilt of his axe. “Liar. No one just wanders into this world. Who sent you?”

“I’m telling the truth,” Mike insisted, his heart pounding again. “I don’t even know what this place is.”

Before the man could respond, a woman emerged from one of the huts—a tall figure with long, silver hair and eyes that gleamed with an unnatural light. She looked at Mike with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

“He’s telling the truth,” the woman said, her voice smooth and commanding. “I can sense it.”

The man frowned but stepped back as the woman approached Mike, her gaze piercing.

“You’ve found something,” she said, her voice low. “Something powerful.”

Mike’s thoughts flashed to the runes, to the energy that had saved him from the beast. He nodded hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

The woman smiled—a cold, calculating smile. “This world is dangerous,” she said softly. “Power will be your only salvation. But power comes at a cost.”

Mike’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like the way she said that, but what choice did he have? He was lost, alone, and now... marked by something far beyond his understanding.

“Come,” she said, turning and gesturing for him to follow. “We have much to discuss.”

Mike hesitated, glancing back toward the forest. He could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him, but in this world, there was no turning back. He followed the woman into the darkness, his mind racing with questions, but knowing one thing for sure: whatever path he was on now, it would change his life forever.

Mike followed the woman into the largest hut, his heart still pounding from the confrontation with the beast and the strange energy he had unleashed. The village outside, filled with hard, untrusting eyes, faded as they entered the dim interior. The hut smelled of herbs and smoke, a sharp contrast to the damp decay of the forest.

Inside, it was sparse but functional. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of dried herbs, bones, and trinkets he didn’t recognize. A small fire burned in a stone pit at the center, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The woman motioned for him to sit on a low stool near the fire.

She sat across from him, studying him closely with those unnerving, glowing eyes. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire and Mike’s ragged breathing as he tried to calm himself. He had questions—dozens of them—but they all seemed trapped in his throat. He waited for her to speak first.

"You’re not the first," she said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was a dark edge to it, as if she knew far more than she was letting on. "Others have appeared here, just like you. Strangers from other worlds, drawn to this one for reasons even they don’t understand."

Mike shifted in his seat, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "Other worlds? Are you saying I’ve been… transported here?"

She nodded slowly. "Call it reincarnation. Call it fate. It doesn’t matter. You were brought here for a reason. This place—our world—is one of chaos and cruelty. Few survive without power, and fewer still thrive."

Mike glanced down at his hands, still feeling the lingering warmth from whatever power had surged through him earlier. "And what about me? That... thing I did. How is that even possible?"

Her lips curled into a thin smile. "You’ve been touched by something ancient. The rune you awakened—it was no accident. You’ve been given a gift, one that could mean your survival in this world. But it comes with its own dangers."

Mike frowned. "What dangers? And why me? I didn’t ask for this."

The woman’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, a faint silver light dancing in the fire’s reflection. "Power never comes without a price. What you used back there was raw magic—an ancient form of energy that only a few can tap into. The rune you activated chose you, but it doesn’t care whether you’re ready or not. If you can’t learn to control it, it will consume you."

A chill ran down Mike’s spine. "Consume me? What does that mean?"

She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. "The magic of this world is wild. Unpredictable. It can give you great strength, but it can also destroy you if you’re not careful. There are forces here—dark, dangerous forces—that will seek to claim your power for their own. And if you’re not strong enough, they’ll succeed."

Mike felt the weight of her words settle over him. His mind spun with the enormity of it all. He had no idea how to control this magic, no understanding of how it worked. But if what she said was true, if the power could destroy him as easily as it had saved him from that beast, then he was in even more danger than he realized.

"You said others have been brought here before," Mike said after a pause. "What happened to them?"

The woman’s expression darkened, and for the first time, he saw something like sadness in her eyes. "Some of them thrived. They learned to harness their power, became strong, even ruled over others in this world. But many... many more failed. They couldn’t control the magic, and it tore them apart. This world is not kind to the weak."

Mike swallowed hard. He had no illusions about his situation. He wasn’t special, just a guy trying to survive in a world he didn’t understand. But if others had managed to master their power, maybe there was hope for him too.

"What do I have to do?" he asked, his voice firmer than he felt.

The woman’s smile returned, though it was tinged with something darker now. "First, you must learn control. The magic inside you is raw, unrefined. It needs to be shaped, guided. I can help you with that—for a price."

There it was. The catch. Mike had been expecting it, but hearing it still made him uneasy. "What kind of price?"

Her gaze never wavered. "Loyalty. In this world, alliances are everything. You’ll need protection, and I can provide it. In exchange, you’ll be bound to me and my people. You’ll fight for us when the time comes."

Mike’s stomach twisted. Fight? He wasn’t a soldier. He didn’t know the first thing about battle or war. "I don’t even know how to use this power yet. How am I supposed to fight?"

"You’ll learn," she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. "There’s more at stake here than just your survival. The balance of power in this world is always shifting, and soon, there will be a reckoning. You can either stand with us or be crushed by the tide."

Mike clenched his fists, frustration and fear warring within him. He didn’t want to be part of some power struggle, didn’t want to be dragged into a war he knew nothing about. But the alternative? Wandering alone in a world full of monsters and hostile people? He wouldn’t last long on his own.

"And if I refuse?" he asked quietly.

The woman’s expression hardened. "Then you’re on your own. No one will help you. No one will teach you. You’ll either die in the wilds or become prey to those who covet your power. There are worse fates than death in this world."

Mike’s thoughts raced. He was cornered, trapped in a situation he had never asked for. But what choice did he have? The woman’s offer was the only lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. He could either take it or face the unknown alone.

"I’ll do it," he said at last, though his voice was shaky. "I’ll learn. But I won’t just be a pawn in someone else’s game. I need to survive too."

The woman nodded, her smile returning. "Good. Then your training begins now."

She rose from her seat and gestured for him to follow her outside. As they stepped into the cold night air, the village was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and distant growls from the forest. The stars above were faint, half-hidden by clouds, casting the world in a dim, otherworldly glow.

"This world is a crucible," she said, leading him toward a clearing at the edge of the village. "Only those who adapt, who seize power, survive. You’ll learn, Mike. But you must be prepared to make hard choices. In this world, doing good or bad is a luxury most can’t afford."

Her words echoed in Mike’s mind as they reached the clearing. He stood there, staring out at the dark horizon, feeling the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders.

This was just the beginning.

Mike stood in the clearing, staring at the stars hidden behind wisps of dark clouds. The woman—whom he’d learned was called Lyra—had led him out to the edge of the village. The silence here was different, heavier somehow, as though the night itself was listening, watching. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.

Lyra stepped in front of him, her sharp gaze never leaving his. “Tonight, you begin your initiation. Power alone won’t be enough to survive, Mike. You must understand how this world works, and that means understanding the alliances that rule it.”

She reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small dagger, its blade gleaming in the dim starlight. “Hold out your hand.”

Mike hesitated but obeyed, holding his palm steady. Lyra took his hand, running the blade lightly across his palm. It stung, but he bit back a gasp as a thin line of blood appeared. She took a small vial from her cloak, catching the blood as it dripped from his hand.

“This is the first step in your binding,” she explained, holding up the vial. “Once your blood enters the vial, you become bound to our family—our syndicate. This isn’t just any village, Mike. We are part of the *Sable Mafia*—one of the ruling factions of this world. If you survive the initiation, you’ll gain the skills you need to wield your power, but you’ll also gain the protection and loyalty of our syndicate.”

A flash of realization hit him. "So... you're saying I’d be joining some kind of criminal family?"

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “There is no law here, not as you would know it. In this world, there are only factions—alliances of strength and power. The weak are chewed up and spit out, left to rot. The Sable Mafia has survived because we’re ruthless, unyielding, and loyal to those within our ranks. If you want to survive here, Mike, you’ll need allies. You’ll need us.”

Mike's heart pounded. The word *mafia* was enough to send a wave of uncertainty through him. He had never considered himself a criminal, and the idea of joining a mafia—even in a world so removed from his own—felt like stepping over a line he couldn’t uncross.

“What if I refuse?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lyra’s expression darkened. “Then you’ll die alone, without protection or guidance. The moment you used that rune, you painted a target on your back. Others have felt its power—they know there’s a new player on the board. Without the Sable Mafia, you’ll be hunted, your power stolen and used against you.” She paused, her gaze unwavering. “If you want to survive, you have to make this choice.”

The air was thick with tension. Mike felt his instincts screaming at him, but he could see no other option. Alone, he was vulnerable. And in this world, vulnerability was fatal.

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll join you.”

A faint smile curved Lyra’s lips, though her eyes held a hint of something darker, unreadable. “Good. Then let us begin.”

She led him back toward the village, to a small stone building set apart from the rest. Inside, the walls were covered with ancient symbols and glowing runes that seemed to pulse with life. A single figure stood in the center—a tall man with broad shoulders, dressed in black robes, his face hidden under a hood. He held a staff made of dark wood, twisted and etched with intricate designs.

“This is Lucian, our leader,” Lyra said, her voice reverent. “He’s the one who will guide your initiation.”

Lucian lowered his hood, revealing a face that was both sharp and haunting. His dark eyes studied Mike with a calculating intensity that made him feel exposed, as though Lucian could see into his very soul.

“So, this is the new recruit,” Lucian said, his voice a smooth, deep rumble. “You’ve been chosen by the rune, and now you stand at a crossroads. Are you prepared to pay the price for power?”

Mike met his gaze, doing his best not to flinch. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Lucian’s lips curved in a faint smirk. “Then kneel.”

Mike dropped to one knee, his heart pounding. Lucian raised his staff, and the runes on the walls flared to life, casting an eerie glow over the room. The air grew heavy, and Mike felt a strange pull, as though his very essence was being drawn out.

“This ritual will bond you to the Sable Mafia, but it will also mark you as one of us,” Lucian intoned. “Once bound, your magic will be linked to our syndicate. You will gain strength, but you will also carry our loyalty and our burden.”

A strange sensation rippled through Mike, cold and dark, as if shadows were crawling beneath his skin. The runes on the walls seemed to burn with an intensity that threatened to overwhelm him, and his vision blurred. But as the darkness closed in, he felt something within him respond—a spark of raw power, surging up to meet the shadows.

The ritual ended abruptly, and Mike gasped, feeling as though he had been pulled from a whirlpool. He looked down at his hand, and there on his palm was a new rune, etched in deep black. It pulsed faintly, alive with dark energy.

“Welcome to the Sable Mafia,” Lucian said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’re one of us now.”

Mike felt a strange mix of pride and dread settle over him. This was it. He was part of something larger than himself, bound to a syndicate of power and danger.

Lucian continued, “Your initiation will be completed by one final task. Tomorrow, you will be sent to deal with a traitor—a former member of our family who has betrayed us and allied with a rival faction. It will test your loyalty and your resolve.”

A cold knot formed in Mike’s stomach. A test? He had expected training, maybe missions, but... not an assassination. He wasn’t a killer. And yet, one look into Lucian’s eyes told him there was no way out of this.

“Do you understand what’s expected of you?” Lucian asked, his tone sharp.

Mike swallowed, fighting back the tremor in his voice. “Yes. I understand.”

Lyra placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. “We all make sacrifices, Mike. It’s the way of this world. But in the end, power is what matters. And if you wish to rise, you must prove your loyalty. Only then will you gain the skills and strength you need to survive.”

Mike nodded, though his mind was a storm of emotions. Tomorrow, he would face his first real test—one that would define his path in this new world. Whether he could bring himself to carry out the task or find another way remained uncertain. But he knew one thing: he was bound to the Sable Mafia now, for better or worse.

As he walked back to his hut that night, the weight of his decision pressed down on him. The mark on his hand pulsed, reminding him of the power that now flowed within him. He was no longer just a lost soul in a dangerous world; he was part of something dark, something powerful.

And though he had no way of knowing what lay ahead, one thing was clear: this world had claimed him.