The Lords

I lay in a pool of my own blood, unable to move. The sensation below my hip had completely vanished. The memories came flooding back: a vehicle had struck me while I was making my way home from work.

It had been a grueling day. The ceaseless grind of working day after day, with no end in sight, felt like it would go on forever.

Oh, I never introduced myself, did I?

I'm an accountant working at a bank. It's a job that sounds respectable, but in reality, it's far from fulfilling. My career path was chosen for me by my parents, who were always excessively strict. Despite having my own aspirations and dreams, I lacked the resolve to chase them. I wanted to live for myself, but I couldn't muster the courage to break free from their expectations. I wished things were different, but my life seemed like a constant disappointment.

I don't have a girlfriend, nor do I consider myself attractive enough to attract one. The thought of approaching a girl fills me with dread. My self-esteem is so low that I wouldn't dare risk rejection

If only my life could have taken a different turn.

I recall the stories I used to read in college, but why are they coming to mind now, of all times? Perhaps it's because I'm teetering on the edge of death.

"Ha ha ha" Oof!!!

The pain is excruciating. Even a simple laugh feels like a struggle.

I long for those stories to be real. They represented lives I could have lived but didn't, adventures and characters I could have become.

sigh...

I feel my consciousness slipping away. The darkness around me is absolute. I wonder if a god or an angel will greet me. There's nothing but oppressive blackness.

Suddenly, a powerful force begins to pull me in. As I try to turn and see what it is, I find nothing but that same, relentless sensation. It persists, tugging at my back. When I turn again, there is still nothing. The next moment, I'm being pulled through an infinitesimal crack in space. It's so tiny that it's nearly imperceptible, yet somehow, I noticed it. No, not noticed-there's no way to see anything here, even if you had eyes. The darkness is all-encompassing. Yet, I somehow perceived that tiny crack.

When I "opened" my eyes again, I couldn't see anything at first. I thought I was still in that void. But when I turned my "eyes," I was met with an astonishing sight-a colossal "continent." No, not just a continent; it was an entire world, a universe unto itself. No matter how much I looked down or around, the "continent" stretched endlessly. The landmass and the seas intertwined seamlessly, and even from what I imagined to be space, I couldn't discern their limits. I realized that if I were indeed in space, there should be stars visible.

Yet, there was not a single star in sight. This place was unlike anything I had ever encountered. The surrounding islands were so immense that Eurasia would seem minuscule by comparison. This land wasn't round; it had no discernible curvature. How did its gravity and physical laws function in such an environment? A mixture of apprehension, fear, and curiosity welled up within me.

Then the pull came again. This time, I didn't resist. I was hurled onto the "continent," but soon realized I was being directed to one of its billions of "islands."

The next thing I knew, I had small, chubby hands and legs, and I was surrounded by dirt and feces from some unknown animal. It seemed I was in a dilapidated barn. Someone approached me-an unkempt woman with a collar around her neck.

She seemed to be opening her clothes around her chest and pulling out one of her breasts to feed me. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for this demeaning experience.

Six months later

Yes, I was reborn as a human. We are in a medieval village, encircled by a dense forest. My mother and I are slaves, and we are treated with utter contempt.

Initially, I couldn't understand the local language. It became clear that I needed to learn it from scratch.

Now, whenever people see us, they look at us with disgust and mutter strange phrases before walking away. We're not alone in our plight; other slaves are around us, all covered in filth and dressed in rags, just like my mother.

Speaking of my mother, she hasn't spoken a word to me since I woke up here. Her lips are parched and cracked-perhaps she's too distressed to talk, or something has happened to her throat.

Six months later

I've managed to learn how to walk and can somewhat understand the local language. I've also discovered the source of my mother's silence. It appears that after she became pregnant with me, one of the masters assaulted her and damaged her throat.

The place I was born into is brutally harsh. To survive here, one must be inherently selfish-something I was unable to be in my previous life. Otherwise, survival is impossible. My mother shows no affection toward me. When she feeds me, her expression is blank. I now understand why she harbors resentment and hatred towards me. Sometimes, the masters visit to ensure she is performing her duties in the barn.

I can empathize with her bitterness and disdain towards me, knowing the harsh realities of this world.

Life as a slave is harsh and unforgiving. I've come to realize that survival here depends on understanding and navigating the brutal dynamics of our world. My mother's silence and detachment are a stark reminder of the harshness we face daily.

The villagers treat us with scorn, barely acknowledging our existence except when we're needed for menial tasks. Our days are spent in the dirt and squalor, working from dawn until dusk. Our masters are indifferent to our suffering; their only concern is that we fulfill our duties.

I've begun to notice the subtle hierarchies among the slaves. Some are more favored than others, receiving slightly better treatment or more food. It's a grim reminder that even among the oppressed, there is a pecking order. I've observed these dynamics carefully, knowing that understanding them might be crucial for my survival.

Despite the harshness of my new life, I've managed to adapt. I've learned to communicate more effectively and have started picking up on the nuances of the local dialect. It's not just about understanding the words; it's about grasping the cultural context behind them.

My mother's condition remains unchanged. She continues to show no emotion, her eyes often distant and vacant. I've tried to reach out to her, to offer some form of comfort or connection, but my efforts have been met with silence. Her detachment is both a shield and a prison, protecting her from further emotional pain but also isolating her from any form of solace.

The village itself is a harsh place. The people are hard and suspicious, and the environment reflects their attitude. The forest that surrounds us is dense and foreboding, a constant reminder of the isolation we live in. The occasional traveler or trader passing through offers a fleeting glimpse of the outside world, but these encounters are rare and usually brief.

One evening, as I was cleaning the barn, I overheard a conversation between two of the masters. They spoke of a rebellion in a neighboring region, a movement that sought to overthrow the current power structures. Their words were filled with disdain and amusement, but to me, they represented a glimmer of hope. The idea of rebellion, of change, stirred something within me—a desire to escape this life and find a way to forge my own path.

I began to think more about my own situation and the possibility of leveraging what I've learned from my past life. I have knowledge of strategies, of ways to manipulate situations and people, but in this world, using that knowledge without attracting unwanted attention is a delicate balance. I need to be cautious and strategic.

In the meantime, my focus is on improving my situation as best as I can. I help other slaves when I can, hoping that kindness might earn me some small measure of favor or protection. I also keep a keen eye on the dynamics of the village, learning as much as I can about the power structures and the people who control them.

Each day brings new challenges and opportunities. I try to stay alert, to remain resilient, and to find ways to turn my circumstances to my advantage. The harsh reality of my new life is a constant reminder of what is at stake. If I am to change my fate, I must navigate this world with care and cunning.

And through it all, I continue to hope. Hope that one day, I might find a way out of this nightmare and into a life where I can finally live for myself.