Chapter 1: Red Snow

  The sound came first.

  A violent roar-metal crushed against metal-followed by a thunderous impact.

  Then silence.

  Darkness swallowed everything.

  For a moment, there was nothing. No pain. No fear. No thought. Even time seemed to vanish.

  Then light returned.

  White clouds stretched endlessly across the sky. Cold wind rushed past as an eagle soared high

  above, its wings wide and steady. Its sharp cry echoed through the air as it glided over a vast forest

  buried beneath snow.

  The eagle descended.

  It landed on a jagged rock overlooking a clearing.

  The snow below was not white.

  It was red.

  Blood soaked into the frozen ground, staining the snow like a battlefield long forgotten. At the center

  of it lay a man, motionless, his body broken and still.

  His fingers twitched.

  Slowly, his eyes opened.

  The world was blurred, unfocused-but his instincts awakened instantly.

  Breathe. Listen. Assess.

  Even without memory, his body reacted like a trained weapon. He tried to move.

  Pain exploded through him, forcing the air from his lungs.

  Footsteps crunched nearby. A shadow fell across his vision.

  Enemy... or ally?

  The thought came sharp and automatic.

  Then darkness returned once more.

  Fragments of memory struck like shattered glass.

  Gunfire tearing through the air.

  Orders shouted through smoke and chaos.

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  Men watching him, waiting for commands.

  Then warmth.

  A woman's smile.

  A child's laughter.

  That warmth was ripped away.

  Blood replaced it. Silence followed screams. Rage carried him forward when nothing else could.

  Revenge consumed what little remained of him.

  And when it was finally over-

  There was nothing left.

  He gasped and woke.

  His eyes snapped open as his body instinctively tried to rise, but agony forced him still. He clenched

  his jaw, refusing to make a sound.

  A wooden ceiling filled his vision.

  Not a hospital.

  Not a barracks.

  The air smelled of smoke and herbs. A fire crackled nearby, its warmth fighting against the cold that

  clung to his skin.

  He looked down.

  Bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, arms, and legs-clean, carefully done.

  Footsteps approached.

  An elderly couple stood beside the bed. The old man had a thick gray beard and a stern expression.

  The woman's eyes were gentle, filled with concern.

  "You're awake," the old man said.

  "Where are you from, child?" he continued. "How did you end up in such a mess?"

  The question struck harder than expected.

  He searched his mind for answers-for a name, a rank, a past.

  Nothing surfaced.

  "I... don't know," he said at last, his voice rough and unfamiliar. "It feels like I died... and lost

  everything I was."

  His gaze fell to his hands, to the body he now inhabited. A cold thought crept in, bitter and raw:

  It's always the same... wherever I go, it's always the same. I've lost everything.

  The woman stepped closer and carefully adjusted the blanket around him.

  "Then rest, my dear son," she said softly. "You are safe here."

  Safe.

  The word felt distant, almost unreal.

  "When you recover, we'll help you learn who you are," she continued. "There's no need to force your

  memories."

  The old man nodded. "It's winter. We must gather firewood before nightfall."

  They turned toward the door.

  "Rest easy," the woman said before closing it behind them.

  Silence filled the room.

  Alone, he slowly raised his hand into view.

  And froze.

  The body was not his.

  It was new-slightly smaller than the one he remembered. His arms were leaner. His hands younger.

  He touched his face carefully.

  No beard.

  Smooth skin.

  Yet it did not feel unfamiliar.

  It was as if he had lived in this body before... but forgotten it.

  The contradiction unsettled him.

  The room felt unbearably quiet. Loneliness pressed down on him harder than the pain in his

  wounds. He didn't know what he was now-soldier, civilian, or something else entirely.

  His thoughts drifted toward the bridge.

  Nothing.

  That memory stopped abruptly, as if sealed behind a wall inside his mind.

  He tried to move again, wanting answers, wanting to leave the bed.

  His body refused to move even an inch.

  Two days passed.

  The elderly woman returned often, gently changing his bandages with fresh cloth soaked in herbs.

  Her touch was patient and sincere. She spoke softly, even when she thought he was asleep.

  The old man spoke roughly, his tone sharp-but his actions betrayed him. He kept the fire alive. He

  brought food. He checked on him more often than necessary.

  They were kind.

  Genuinely kind.

  The warmth unsettled him.

  It was something he had forgotten long ago. Something he thought he would never feel again.

  Love.

  Quiet. Patient. Expecting nothing in return.

  As he lay there, staring at the wooden ceiling, a thought settled deep within him-slow, heavy, and

  undeniable.

  Whatever life he had lost...

  Whatever war he had survived...

  This was a beginning.

  Not the one he chose.

  But perhaps the one he needed.

  Outside, the winter wind howled.

  Somewhere in the distance, an eagle cried.

  And though he could not remember his name, one truth remained clear in his bones:

  He had survived one world.

  And this new world had not finished with him yet.

  ---

  Next Chapter Teaser:

  The world outside is not as peaceful as it seems.

  When he finally steps out of the house, he will face dangers he has never seen before-and a truth

  that could change everything.