The bullet came without warning.

  Master Sergeant Alex Graves, a Marine elite, had been on the ground in Afghanistan for over a year. War was a part of him, as natural as breathing. He knew the sound of gunfire, the feel of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and the way time seemed to slow down in those crucial moments of battle. He had survived firefights that should have killed him, his body covered in scars and bruises from decades of combat.

  But this? This was different.

  He felt the impact, the searing pain ripping through his chest. For a split second, everything stopped. His world turned to white noise. His breath came in ragged gasps as his vision blurred. He had been hit before. But this—this was different. There was no dying here. No time for him to close his eyes.

  And then, just like that, the world changed.

  He was standing in the middle of a forest.

  One moment, he was in the heat of battle—bullets whizzing past his ears, the roar of artillery, the smell of burning oil. The next, he was here. In a world he didn’t recognize. Trees stretched high above, casting long shadows over the ground. The air was damp and smelled of pine. The soft crunch of leaves underfoot echoed in the eerie stillness.

  Alex staggered to his feet, his body aching, his mind reeling. He was no stranger to strange moments in the chaos of war—combat fatigue, disorientation—but this? This was something else entirely.

  "Where the hell am I?" he muttered, his voice a low growl.

  His training kicked in immediately. Focus. Assess. Act. He surveyed the surroundings—no immediate threats, but that didn’t mean he was safe. He moved quickly, instinct guiding his steps.

  Weapons check.

  M4A1 Carbine: Still slung across his chest. Half a mag left.

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  Glock 19: Holstered at his side. Full mag.

  Combat Knife: In place.

  His gear was intact. That was a small blessing.

  He crouched, eyes scanning the trees. The silence in the air felt wrong. This wasn’t the battlefield he knew—no distant explosions, no chatter over comms, no screams of fellow soldiers. Just… an eerie quiet.

  His heart raced as he tried to process. Why am I still alive?

  That’s when it happened. The pain.

  It wasn’t the physical wound. It wasn’t the ache in his chest. This was something deeper, something that cracked his skull wide open. Information.

  A torrent of knowledge surged through his mind, too fast, too much. The pain was unbearable—like being drowned in information.

  The language, the maps, the history of a world completely foreign to him. He felt his mind stretch, bend, as the information flooded in. Runes. Spells. Kingdoms at war. A completely different way of fighting. And it was all here. In his mind. Unwelcome. Painful. But he had no choice. He had to process it. He had to adapt.

  [System Sync Complete.]

  [Welcome, Host. You have been chosen as a Transdimensional Combatant.]

  The words hovered before him, like a commanding officer giving orders over a loudspeaker. He clenched his jaw, fighting the overwhelming wave of data that continued to pour in. His body trembled, but his training held. Stay calm. Stay sharp.

  [Abilities Granted: Modern Armory, Tactical Deployment, Skill Evolution.]

  The words flickered in front of his eyes, but he barely noticed them. This was no time for confusion. He was a Marine—an elite soldier. This was just another battlefield, another mission. Survival.

  [Mission: Survive.]

  That was it. Survive. And for the first time in his life, Alex felt a strange sense of clarity. His body might have been battered, his mind reeling, but his instincts? His instincts told him this wasn’t a random incident. This wasn’t an accident. This was a test.

  Alex gritted his teeth. The forest was still silent, but his eyes were sharper now. He moved instinctively, checking his surroundings.

  Suddenly, a rustle in the trees to his left.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  Combat mode engaged.

  His M4A1 was at the ready before he even registered the sound of a footstep. From the corner of his eye, a figure emerged—a man in tattered leather armor, holding a spear.

  “Demon!” the man shouted, eyes wide with terror. He raised his weapon, preparing to strike.

  Alex’s mind clicked into full tactical mode. Threat detected. Eliminating threat.

  Fire.

  The sound of his gunshot broke the silence. The figure dropped before he even had time to react. The bullet tore through his chest, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

  Alex stood over the body, his breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was over. The threat had been neutralized.

  But his relief was short-lived.

  [+10 Skill Points Earned.]

  The words flickered in front of his eyes, and then more options flooded in—skills, weapons, a menu of choices.

  He blinked. Was this… some kind of game?

  [Skill Store Unlocked]

  Tactical Deployment – Armored Vehicles: 500 Points.

  Deploy: Special Forces – 100 Points.

  [New Skill Unlocked: Combat Awareness.]

  He raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t a game. But whatever it was, it was giving him tools—tools he could use to survive.

  Alex surveyed the area again. He needed to move. He didn’t know where he was, or how he got here, but he did know one thing: He was a Marine.

  And Marines? Marines survived.