I heard they spank babies after they’re born…

  BUT NOT THIS HARD.

  Or maybe I’m just too sensitive.

  After he stopped crying, he fell into deep thought.

  Was this really reality?

  Or was he in a coma, dreaming?

  Was he still drunk?

  Was that truly the end of his old life?

  The questions kept circling in his mind—

  Until THE GREAT RUMBLING began.

  It sounded like a bear waking from hibernation.

  No.

  It was his stomach.

  A few minutes later—

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  After receiving his “nutrition,” he began observing his new environment.

  The roof was wooden, supported by thick beams.

  Each pillar rested on a stone base.

  The structure looked old—uneven in places. Definitely not modern.

  He tried to look around more, but his vision was limited.

  He couldn’t turn his head properly.

  He couldn’t roll over.

  He was completely helpless.

  Even though he tried with all his strength, he couldn’t move a single finger. He only wasted his energy.

  Eventually, he stopped struggling and lay there in his cradle, sweating from exhaustion.

  In the past year, I was mostly kept in my room or my parents’ room. My father seemed to avoid me—I only caught glimpses of his clothes and face once in a while. Or maybe that’s just my assumption.

  I learned we don’t have many relatives. I’ve seen my grandmother, but never my grandfather. Even the simplest mention of him is avoided. Are they on bad terms?

  Putting that aside, I learned a few words of this world’s language. They call me something like Kaile… or Kayl… maybe Kalin? I’m not sure what my name is. Their language is completely different from anything I heard on Earth.

  As he was thinking, he suddenly heard a loud crash outside his room.

  What was that?