Zilon stared out the window, his eyes widening in genuine surprise as he took in the scene unfolding before him.
Outside, the front of the house stretched into a vast field, green and expansive, with enough space for various activities. From his vantage point, he couldn't quite gauge the exact size of the property, but it was clear that the area was far from cramped.
"Huh, wow… So there *are* people around here," Zilon murmured, his expression softening with relief. "Phew… I was starting to think I'd woken up in the middle of nowhere."
His gaze followed the movement of people strolling along a peaceful road. It wasn't densely populated, but the steady flow of pedestrians was enough to reassure him that this place was alive. The scene was calm, almost idyllic, and it eased some of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
"Well, I might as well go explore," Zilon said to himself, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "It's not every day you wake up in a new world. Might as well see how different it is out there."
But hesitation crept in. What if Lyla disapproved of him leaving? What if the people here didn't understand his language? He didn't know their customs, their norms, or even how they might react to someone like him. The uncertainty was daunting.
"Ahhh, but I'm too curious," he muttered, glancing back at the box of clothes. "Just a quick look around won't hurt, right?"
With a burst of energy, he rushed to the box, rummaging through its contents like an excited child. He pulled out a few garments, finally settling on one that resembled what he'd seen someone wearing outside.
"Feels a little strange that I know this," he mused, scratching his cheek. "And how many clothes does this box even hold? It's like a bottomless pit."
Shaking off the thought, he nodded to himself. "I should change before it gets dark. Maybe by then, I'll have a better idea of how things work here."
He took the chosen outfit to the bathroom and quickly changed. Standing in front of the mirror, he examined his reflection.
"Hey, I'm not half bad looking," he said with a small chuckle.
Zilon was a 15-year-old boy with the physique of someone closer to 13. His short black hair framed a face with dark eyes that seemed to dim in the light. His nose was small, and his overall frame was slightly above average.
"If I was this handsome in my past life, I might've had more ladies than I knew what to do with," he joked, though the thought sent a chill down his spine as memories of his previous life flickered in his mind.
"Never mind that," he said, shaking his head. "Time to go."
---
Stepping outside, Zilon locked the door behind him and took a deep breath. The sun's rays warmed his face, and the sight of the sprawling green field greeted him.
"Wow, this place is huge," he murmured, his eyes scanning the landscape. "It must stretch at least a kilometer. Walking from one end to the other would take a while."
He made his way to the small gate, pushed it open, and stepped through. Glancing back at the house, he muttered, "Okay, I need to stay alert so I don't get lost."
With that, he set off, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Alright, let the adventure begin."
---
Meanwhile, inside the house, Lyla sat in a lotus position in the second room. A swirl of brown energy enveloped her figure, moving slowly, almost hypnotically. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she concentrated.
After a while, the energy dispersed, and she opened her eyes. They glowed with the same intensity they had when she was in Zilon's room earlier. She blinked, and the glow faded, leaving her with her normal brown eyes.
"I see…" she said softly, standing up. In an instant, she vanished, leaving behind only a few sparks of brown dust—her signature energy.
---
"Wow, so this is what the outside looks like," Zilon said as he walked through the town, his head swiveling left and right to take in the sights.
The buildings were varied, their facades adorned with signs in languages he didn't recognize. Yet, strangely, he could understand them.
"The language is definitely different," he muttered, passing two people engaged in a friendly conversation. "But it's weird how I can understand what they're saying. Maybe it's the system?"
He tried summoning the status panel, but nothing happened. "Guess I'll check that later," he said, shrugging.
His wandering led him to a building that looked like a library. He stepped inside, finding a handful of people scattered about—some sitting in chairs, others browsing shelves filled with books.
"Hmm, what do I even do now?" he wondered, his expression souring. "I don't even know where to start. Maybe I'll come back later with Lyla. She's the first person I met here—hopefully, she can help."
He left the library and continued his exploration. The people here were unlike any he'd seen before. Their hairstyles were unfamiliar, and their eye colors ranged from brown and green to pink and gray.
"It's like I've stepped into an anime world," he chuckled to himself. "Weird, but kind of cool."
So absorbed in his surroundings, he didn't notice the three figures ahead of him until it was too late.
*BANG.*
"Ouch!" Zilon stumbled back, landing on his butt after colliding with one of the boys.
"Hey, watch where you're going, loser!" the boy snapped, glaring at him.
Zilon looked up, meeting the gaze of a boy about his age. The boy's green eyes and blonde hair gave him a striking appearance, but his expression was anything but friendly.
"Sorry about that," Zilon said, standing up and offering an apologetic smile. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Sorry isn't enough," the boy sneered, his friends flanking Zilon on either side. "You're gonna pay for that."
Zilon's expression hardened. "I already apologized. There's no need for a fight."
But the boy wasn't listening. He stepped closer, his fists clenched. "Oh, there's definitely a need. I'm gonna teach you a lesson."
Zilon sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Look, I don't want trouble. But if you start something, don't expect me to back down."
Before he could react, the boy's hand ignited with flames. Zilon's eyes widened as the attack came at him in slow motion—a result of his Chronico Eyes skill, he realized. But despite the slowed perception, the blow still landed, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Pathetic," the boy spat, his voice dripping with disdain.
Zilon groaned, clutching his face. "Magic… So this world really does have magic."
Despite the pain, a spark of excitement ignited within him. If magic was real, then so were the possibilities. He slowly got to his feet, his mind racing.
"You want more? I've got plenty," the boy taunted, forming another fireball in his hand.
Zilon braced himself, his thoughts a whirlwind. *If Chronico Eyes is what I think it is, then maybe…*
But before the fireball could reach him, a voice rang out.
"That's enough!"
*BOOM.*