AT THE SAME TIME
WANESSA'S POINT OF VIEW:
The rogue lands stretched out before me, vast and unforgiving. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and the village ahead looked worse than I had expected. Shabby huts barely stood, thin figures moved sluggishly, their eyes hollow with hunger and exhaustion. This is worse than I thought. I had spent days walking, my body already weak from lack of proper food and rest. Every step felt heavier, my vision blurring at the edges, but I forced myself forward. These people needed help. I didn't know why I felt such a strong need to fix things, but I did. I barely made it a few more steps before the world tilted beneath me. My knees buckled, and I hit the ground hard. A sharp gasp left my lips as pain shot through me, but I couldn't move, my limbs refusing to obey. Voices rose around me, wary at first.
"Who the hell is she?" A rough voice demanded.
"Looks like another stray." Someone else muttered.
"She doesn't smell like one of them." A woman's voice noted cautiously.
I struggled to lift my head, my vision swimming. Dark silhouettes loomed over me, their faces half hidden by shadows and grime.
"I just… need a moment." I rasped, forcing the words past my dry throat.
"She's burning up." One of them observed, concern creeping into his tone. "We can't just leave her here to die."
A pair of strong arms lifted me before I could protest, and a sharp sense of vertigo made my stomach churn.
"We don't take in outsiders." Another voice argued.
"She ain't a threat." The man carrying me shot back. "Look at her. She's skin and bones. If she was dangerous, she'd be standing, not passed out in the dirt."
I felt myself being carried through the village, the scent of firewood and damp cloth filling my senses. Everything felt distant like I was trapped in a dream.
"Why help her?" The woman from before asked skeptically.
"Because she's alone. And if we don't, who will?"
Those were the last words I heard before darkness pulled me under. Warmth. That was the first thing I noticed when I drifted back to consciousness. A thick, scratchy blanket covered me, and a faint scent of herbs and smoke clung to the air. My head pounded, my limbs ached, but I was alive. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim light. I was inside a small, shabby hut, the wooden walls patched with old fabric. A fire crackled in the corner, its glow illuminating the worn faces of the people around me.
"She's awake." Someone muttered.
I turned my head slowly, my vision still a little unfocused. A group of rogues stood near the door, watching me with unreadable expressions. Some looked cautious, others curious, and a few… concerned? A man with rough stubble and sharp eyes crouched beside me, arms crossed.
"Thought you were gonna die on us." He said gruffly.
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat.
"Where…?" My voice came out hoarse.
"You collapsed outside our village." A woman with tangled red hair explained. "Foolish thing to do, walking into rogue lands looking half dead."
I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my body protesting the movement.
"You… helped me?"I asked.
The man scoffed.
"Not all of us wanted to."He said.
"Then why?"I asked.
A younger rogue, maybe in his late teens, shrugged from where he leaned against the wall.
"You looked worse than us. Figured anyone that desperate ain't a threat."He said.
Another voice, deeper and older, cut in.
"And maybe because it's been a long time since anyone cared about someone other than themselves around here." He said.
I frowned, my thoughts still sluggish. They had no reason to help me. Rogues were known to be ruthless, untrusting. And yet, here I was alive, warm, and under their care. I glanced down at myself, noticing the rough bandages wrapped around my hands and arms. Someone had treated my wounds. Someone had cared enough to save me.
"Thank you." I said softly, meaning it.
Silence filled the space for a moment before the red haired woman sighed.
"Tch. Don't thank us yet. We're still deciding if keeping you was a mistake."She said.
I managed a weak smile.
"Then I guess I'll have to prove it wasn't."I said.
The man next to me raised a brow.
'And how exactly do you plan to do that?"She asked.
I took a slow, deep breath. Think, Wanessa. Think like a gamer. I had been playing 'Alpha's Chosen One' for days before getting trapped inside this world. If there was one thing I knew, it was strategy. And this village? It needed help.
"I can fix things." I said, meeting his gaze. "I know how to build, how to plan. I can help you survive better than this." I gestured weakly to the damaged roof, the tattered clothes, the exhaustion in their eyes.
The rogues exchanged skeptical looks.
"And what do you get out of this?" The red haired woman asked suspiciously.
I hesitated for only a second.
"A place to stay. And… a chance to prove I belong."I said.
The man studied me for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle.
"You're either crazy or desperate."He said.
"Maybe both."I said.
Another silence. Then, surprisingly, the older rogue nodded.
"Alright, outsider. Let's see what you can do."She said.
I smiled, feeling something stir deep inside me. I was going to change things. I was going to change everything.
As I sat there, still feeling the lingering weakness in my limbs, memories of the game flooded my mind. In 'Alpha's Chosen One', rogues were always treated like dirt filthy, starving, and dangerous. No one gave them a chance. No one believed they could be anything more than outcasts, criminals, and savages. But I knew better. I had seen enough in this world to realize that rogues weren't just monsters lurking in the shadows. They were people, abandoned, betrayed, and forced to survive however they could. They weren't born this way. They were made this way. And if no one else would give them a chance… I would.