The life slipped through his fingers again. Sei Noshimura had done everything right—every incision, every suture—but it wasn’t enough. Now the room smelled of antiseptic and failure, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  He was told to clear out the patient’s room. Mechanically, he obeyed, tossing instruments, wiping down surfaces, trying to scrub away more than blood—trying to scrub away the helplessness gnawing at his chest. That’s when he saw it: a book.

  Old. Cracked leather. Edges frayed. Out of place on the sterile counter. Sei blinked, fatigue weighing him down, and picked it up.

  A single word stared back at him:

  “Ready.”

  Before he could question it, the world warped. Light swallowed him whole. The hospital, the failed surgery, the antiseptic—gone. His stomach lurched as gravity twisted, the floor vanished beneath him, and time stretched until it felt like the universe itself had paused.

  When the light faded, he landed on cold, hard stone. Torches flickered against high chamber walls, casting long shadows over panicked figures and clashing steel. His ears rang with shouts, screams, and the clang of blades.

  He stumbled forward, disoriented. At the far end, a man in regal attire slumped against a tall chair—the king—flanked by his council. “Assassins… they’ve broken in!” someone shouted. Panic threaded the air like electricity.

  Sei didn’t think. Instinct took over. He raised his arms as the first figure lunged.

  A woman appeared, hair the color of deep sea emerald, armor glinting, a shield embossed with a tortle strapped to her back. Her gaze pierced him like a blade.

  “You!” she barked. “Step aside!”

  Steel flashed. Sei twisted, ducked, parried. Behind him, assassins slashed blindly, closing in from both sides. Every heartbeat thundered in his chest.

  Then a voice cut through the chaos:

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  “Eva! He is an ally!”

  The king’s hoarse shout froze her mid-strike. Her icy gaze swept over Sei, assessing his movements, the calm in the storm, the way he deflected attacks while simultaneously protecting the king. Not an enemy—not yet—but untested.

  Sei’s chest heaved. Every strike, every motion, echoed the helplessness he’d felt back on Earth. Here, the stakes were no longer confined to a hospital room. Every life mattered. Every choice carried weight.

  Eva lowered her blade, signaling her unit to cover the king. She didn’t speak. One sharp nod was enough. Respect, masked by icy professionalism.

  The siege was temporarily held. The king, battered but alive. The council wounded. Civilians shaken.

  Sei’s hands still trembled. He had been summoned, plucked from his world, thrown into war, into impossible choices—and somehow, he already knew: this was only the beginning.

  Sei sank to one knee, chest heaving, muscles trembling. The chamber was silent now, save for the distant clamor of the siege echoing through the walls. Assassins lay scattered across the floor, some unconscious, some unmoving. His hands stung from the parries and blocks, and adrenaline still thrummed in his veins.

  He looked around, his eyes wide. Torches flickered against the high stone walls, casting elongated shadows over soldiers and the battered furniture. Panic and confusion clung to him like a second skin.

  “Where… am I?” he finally whispered, voice raw. “How… how did I get here?”

  The king, still leaning weakly against his chair, coughed, then straightened slightly, eyes fixed on the young man. “You… you were summoned,” he said, voice strained but firm. “By me… and the council. Our kingdom is under siege. Toradol… needs your help.”

  Sei blinked, processing the words. Summoned? Help? This made no sense. “Summoned? I—I’m not… I’m not from here,” he admitted, throat tight, uncertainty twisting inside him.

  A figure moved behind the king, stepping into the torchlight. Sea-emerald hair tied back, armor polished and battle-worn, a shield emblazoned with a tortle on her back. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, landed on him.

  “I am Eva Brimholde,” she said, voice calm but firm. “Captain of the King’s vanguard. I am responsible for defending the king—and anyone who enters this chamber without permission.” She paused, letting him take in her presence. “That includes you.”

  Sei swallowed hard. He had fought her already, but now, seeing her fully, the weight of her authority pressed down on him. “I… I don’t even know who I am to you,” he said, voice barely audible.

  Eva’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then you will learn. Quickly. The siege will not wait for introductions.”

  The king coughed again, gesturing weakly. “You fought well… for a stranger. But Toradol is in peril. If you can survive here… if you can adapt… you may yet help us turn the tide.”

  Sei’s stomach churned. He had been ripped from a life he barely understood, thrust into one he didn’t comprehend, fighting for survival before even knowing the rules. And yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark ignited.

  He had failed once. Not here. Not again.