You died like a soldier.

You open your eyes suddenly.
You don't remember the exact moment.
Only fragments.
Noise.
Radio.
Metal.
And then… nothing.
The air is cold.
Damp earth under your back.
You instinctively bring your hands to your chest.
The vest is still there.
The backpack too.
The weapon.
All.
You sit up slowly and look around.
Forest.
Enormous trees.
Too high.
There is no smoke.
There are no roads.
There is no city.
Just wind moving leaves you don't recognize.
Instinct.
Quick equipment check
tactical uniform
military backpack
rifle (limited ammunition)
secondary pistol (limited ammunition)
knife
night vision
flashlight
2 grenades
kit
rope
portions
canteen.
Radio.
Dead.
Phone.
No signal.
There is no extraction.
Nobody is looking for you.
You start to move forward.
Then you hear something.
Voices.
Far.
You don't understand the language.
But you recognize the tone.
Fear.
You approach through the trees.
You find a destroyed cart.
Broken wood.
A motionless horse.
Two bodies.
One is still alive.
Light armor.
When he sees you…
He remains motionless.
His eyes scan your uniform.
Your helmet.
Your weapon.
Slowly raise one hand.
Asking for help.
And then you hear it.
A laugh.
Then another one.
Small.
Too many.
Green figures appear among the trees.
Lows.
Dirty.
Short bows.
Spears.
Goblins.
They haven't detected you yet.
Further back.
A different one.
Higher.
Covered with bones.
He is holding a cane.
Observe.
He doesn't look like a warrior.
He seems to be waiting.
The wounded man looks at you again.
The goblins are advancing.
Your hand rests on the rifle.
And you understand something.
This world doesn't know what a weapon is.
And you don't know what magic can do.