I drift lazily above the trees like a badly animated sprite on a 16-bit map, like some old Zelda: A Link to the Past map. Except here, no chill background music and no NPC handing me a magic sword.
Just me, a wobbly flying Oni, blindly soaring over a world that didn't even have the decency to give me a clear HUD.
Ohts, or what's left of it, slowly fades behind me, drowned in a fog of spiderwebs and disgusting memories. The sky is vast, almost too vast. And me, what am I looking for exactly? A village? An inn? A sign with "You are here" like in the good old 2D RPGs?
"Alright girl, Final Fantasy I mode: move forward, explore, pray to stumble into a town before the random encounters eat you alive."
[ Current position is stable. I advise you to move away. ]
"Thanks, Senpai. Looks like you finally decided to do your job as a smart pause menu."
[ Please do not insult me! I advise you to head either west or east. ]
Umh, there must be some big countries if he's suggesting that…
"Let's go west!"
I rise a bit, just to get a better look. And yeah, bingo: over there, a grey dot between two hills. Smells like a backwater village, moldy gardens, and villagers who all have the same face because the devs didn't have the budget for more models.
I gently dive in that direction, still enjoying the flight. I'm starting to get the hang of the controls, but it's hardcore mode: no tutorial, no reset, and every mistake costs a few broken ribs.
And suddenly, a noise in my head disturbs me, like my character just got possessed by a polyglot demon.
[ Translation deactivated. Linguistic artifact has expired. ]
"You mean I lost the local language? No more subtitles? Nothing?!"
I hover midair, mouth agape. Then I laugh. The kind of laugh you let out after losing your save file because you forgot to press Start + Select.
"Perfect. Really. Here I am, Level 1 in Communication, stats dropped to zero, on my way to a village where I'll probably be seen as a mute monster or a demon Oni!"
I grab my head in my hands. The urge to descend is fighting the desire to freestyle eject like in Earthworm Jim. But hey. Too late.
"And you, you could've warned me, Senpai. Like a little beep alert like in Pokémon Stadium, I don't know, a vibe."
[ You did not ask the question. ]
I roll my eyes.
"Oh right. Sorry for not thinking to tick the 'Artifact expiration' box in the imaginary pause menu."
I sigh, and my wings flap gently, like a skipping old disc.
"Okay. New mission: find people. Learn their gibberish. Try not to get vaporized on sight. Easy. Like an arcade game... except I'm out of credits."
The grey shape I saw from afar gets clearer as I approach. It's not just a random hamlet — there are buildings, walls, a sort of central tower... A town? A real one? With people, roads, signs that say "Welcome to the asshole of the world"?
I straighten up a bit, trying to estimate the distance. From up here, I can see the town's layout. Not as squared off as an imperial base, but not completely chaotic either. It looks recent, like a village still searching for an identity. Or a colony hastily built after a war. There are fields, a kind of palisade, and even smoke. Smoke that comes from chimneys, not fires. That's new.
"Senpai. Tell me you know where we are."
[ Data unavailable. This sector is not listed in the active mapping. ]
I frown. "Excuse me? You don't have the map?"
[ This region did not exist in the archives in my possession. No urban establishment named. ]
"Oh great. I'm flying toward Mystery Town. Very reassuring."
[ Hypothesis: settlement founded recently or likely temporal discrepancy with the last valid data. ]
I freeze mid-flight. "Repeat that."
[ Last database update: over 230 cycles ago. Comparison with current readings impossible. Rank 3 Systems only have limited access to updated planetary records. ]
230 cycles… how many years is that?
"You mean… your internal GPS is based on a map that could be hundreds of years old?"
[ Confirmation. The System network has suffered massive outages. Rank 3 instances are not prioritized in temporal synchronization. ]
I run a hand down my face. I feel like I'm playing SimCity without the build menu. Or worse, walking around a Warcraft II map with fog of war on and zero scout units.
"And here I thought I was the one lagging behind. But you're even worse than Clippy on Windows 98."
[ Analyzing reference... Failure. ]
I sigh.
"Forget it. Fine. We're going anyway. Unknown village, unknown people, lost language... I don't have a plan B."
My wings fold slightly as I begin to descend. Not a dive, not yet. I keep some altitude. Not stupid, the beast. If these guys shoot down anything that flies on sight, I'd rather not end up roasted like a pigeon.
And here I am, flying over a world that's no longer the one Senpai thinks he knows.
I land at a safe distance. Not too close to cause trouble, not too far either — gotta observe. The kind of strategic placement you learn after getting killed twenty times in Metal Slug because you tried to rush.
My wings slowly fold on my back, still clumsy, but obedient. It's almost touching, this learning phase. Like me, version 2.0, hastily patched, with unstable options.
I crouch behind a dry bush, barely providing cover. But hey, you work with what you've got. My eyes scan the town through the branches. A main entrance, guarded. People walking around, visibly human. Some carts pulled by beasts I don't know. Voices, laughter. A living town, then.
But there's also a major problem: I don't understand a damn thing they're saying anymore.
I blink. That's not Japanese. Not even close.
"Oh, what a joke…"
And yet… I'm not scared. Not really. Because I'm curious. Because I have this compulsive need to understand. Because it's new, and in a world that reeks of death, novelty almost smells like life.
I move away a bit, skirting the edge of the forest, senses on high alert. My goal? Observe. Find a way in. Learn the customs. And most importantly… find another way to communicate. At this point, even Google Translate in scroll format would be useful.
And for a brief moment, it almost feels like I'm playing an old text-based RPG, the kind where you type "look village," "listen conversation," "don't die."
And I think maybe I have a shot at surviving.
Just as I'm about to circle around for a safer angle, a rickety cart comes down the dirt path, pulled by two ox-like creatures with vacant eyes but sturdy builds. I flatten myself to the ground, sink into the tall grass, and wait for it to half-pass me.
In the back, there are sacks of grain, wooden crates, and a loosely tied tarp.
Exactly what I need.
I take advantage of a dip in the ground, leap — stealthily, obviously, full Metal Gear mode, mud camouflage engaged — and slip into the cart without a sound, under the tarp, wedged between a crate of potatoes and what looks like a barrel of fermented fish oil. A real olfactory delight, truly.
The cart keeps going without stopping. No alarmed voices, no brakes, no "hey!". I made it.
And as a bonus, I get the best reward possible: information I can't understand because I don't speak the language…
"In three years, this village has really grown, huh? We never would've thought, back then."
"Well yeah. It's been forty years since Keren was founded. Now that we're under the Empire, the roads are safe, taxes are reasonable, even the monsters behave themselves."
I whisper almost without realizing it.
"Senpai? Got any info on that? Can you translate it for me?"
[ No, I cannot. ]
"So either we've jumped to another dimension, or…"
The cart slows down, its wheels creaking on uneven cobblestones, a familiar noise that reminds me of old arcade games with their annoying background sounds. But I can't relax now. Every bump feels like a mini-electric shock. It gives me chills.
I flatten myself against the bottom of the cart, holding my breath. The tarp's fabric is thin, worn — one wrong move and I could be exposed. I hear footsteps approaching. Two, maybe three. The voices are deep and… authoritative.
"Halt," says one of the guards. He speaks with a voice like a slab of concrete. "Routine inspection."
The cart driver replies in a hoarse voice, full of dirt and fatigue, with a strong rural accent.
"Food delivery, milord. Three sacks of wheat, two barrels of salted fish, some vegetables. Destination: market square."
I don't move a muscle. I don't understand everything, but near cities, there are often checks. If these guys find something suspicious, I'm done. Meanwhile, I try to breathe softly, praying no one hears the sound of my heart pounding.
The guard responds with a sigh. "Nothing unusual to report? No magic items? No stowaways?"
The driver laughs, but it's clearly forced. "Milord, if I could hide someone under my potatoes, I'd make them pay!"
A silence. Then the clink of boots.
Another guard, younger, snaps: "We're taking a look anyway. Captain's orders. Yesterday we found a Small Taratect hiding under a load of cabbages."
I stay perfectly still, holding my breath, praying it'll all blow over.
Suddenly, a shout echoes through the street. A loud scream, like space itself just had a panic attack. "LONG LIVE THE DRAGONS WHO MAKE MUSHROOM BREAD!"
A long silence. Then murmurs, exchanged looks.
"…Is that… Maldor?" says a guard.
"Go check on him… he's probably naked in the fountain again."
An exasperated sigh. "Him again. Forget it. I'm not ruining my day over that lunatic."
I lose my breath for a second, heart pounding so hard it hurts. The two guards, who were just about to check every corner of my hiding spot, finally turn away. The footsteps fade fast, and all I can do is breathe again.
"He's setting his beard on fire again. One day he's gonna burn down the whole town," adds the second guard.
The cart starts moving again. None of the guards seem to care about my presence. I'm almost in shock. As my brain catches up to this stroke of luck, I whisper:
"Thank you, story god. Thank you."
The cart continues down the road, everything feeling calmer, and the surreal sensation of escaping a survival trial just adds to the weirdness of my day. But at least, I'm still here.
As soon as the cart turns down a narrower alley, a bit off the main road to the city center, I know it's time. The guards' voices are gone, the wheels are creaking, and the ambient noise is loud enough to cover a quick move.
I gently lift the tarp, just enough to peek outside. No one. The driver is muttering to himself, digging through a crate. No one's looking this way.
A quiet wing flap. A breath. And I slip out of the cart like a ghost.
I find myself crouched against a wall, the smell of fermented fish still clinging to my skin. I gag a little. But there's no time to whine — I look like a fugitive half-demon, and if I don't blend in fast, I'm going to end up impaled on a pole by some overzealous guard.
I scan the surroundings. Behind a weather-beaten wooden fence, a sort of dump. Abandoned fabrics, forgotten clothes, soaked in mud, stained with dried blood or animal grease. Perfect. It's barely cleaner than I already look, but it'll do.
I creep along the walls, then dive into the junk heap. A beige shirt, holey and stiff like badly tanned leather, hangs from a rusty hook. A frayed pair of pants lies on a broken crate. I grab them and change quickly, ripping what I need to make it fit.
When I come out, I look like a filthy, exhausted village girl straight out of a hardcore survival game. My wings are folded against my back, hidden under a torn rough-spun cloak. My horns are tucked beneath a grimy scarf I wrapped around my head like a peasant hood.
I glance at my reflection in a puddle. Hideous. Perfect.
"Infiltration mode: activated."
I sneak off, blending into the scenery, ready to explore this unknown town. Now I just have to figure out where I am. And whether this world has room for an Oni with no language, no map, no plan… but excellent filthy camouflage instincts.
I keep moving, staying under the radar, sticking to walls, senses alert. The city center finally comes into view: a large cobbled square, bustling with stalls, merchants, rushing passersby, and tired soldiers. And at the back, a huge bulletin board standing like a beacon in the chaos.
I approach, intrigued, even though I already know I won't understand a thing.
And yep, bingo: none of the symbols make any sense to me. Lines, curves, characters too precisely drawn to be random doodles. Notices? Laws? Bounties? No clue.
Then a loud voice rings out, projected like an NPC script in a JRPG, rising from a corner of the square:
An announcement, clearly important.
The guy's yelling passionately, but I can't catch it all and need to get closer.
"…the gallant knight has arrived in Keren… …will soon meet Empress Sophia…"
I blink, not understanding.
But the people around me seem captivated. Some applaud, others comment. It's like an official announcement in a game where you haven't unlocked the main quest yet.