Flins remembered only two things with certainty: the moment he woke up… and his own name.

Everything else was gone.

No childhood memories, no distant faces, no fragments of a former life. Nothing. It was as if someone had reached inside his mind and erased every trace of who he had once been, leaving behind only an empty silence wrapped in confusion.

And now he was here.

A world unlike anything reason could explain — a realm where imagination was not merely accepted, but ruled over reality itself. Creativity was law. Possibility had no limits.

Unicorns crossed crystal valleys beneath violet skies. Mermaids sang in floating markets built over endless oceans. Gargoyles perched atop cathedrals older than kingdoms, watching crowds of vampires, sorcerers, spirits, and creatures without names wander through lantern-lit streets. In this place, thought alone seemed capable of shaping existence.

If someone believed strongly enough in something… then that thing existed.

And somehow, Flins had ended up there by pure chance.

Or perhaps not by chance at all.

He wandered aimlessly after awakening, disoriented and lost, until a strange traveler appeared on the road beside him: a rat. Or at least, something close to one. A humanoid rat dressed in patched traveler’s clothes, carrying dozens of trinkets tied to his belt while riding calmly atop a gigantic armored beetle.

Under any normal circumstance, Flins would have questioned it.

But after waking up in a world where reality itself seemed unstable, a talking rat riding an enormous insect no longer felt worthy of surprise.

The wanderer introduced himself only briefly and, noticing Flins’ confusion, offered him a ride.

“There are people in this world who help the lost,” the rat had said with a crooked smile. “And you, friend, look very lost.”

With no better option, Flins accepted.

The journey lasted hours — perhaps days. Time itself felt strange in that land. Forests glowed at night with bioluminescent leaves, rivers flowed upward into the clouds, and distant mountains shifted places whenever no one looked directly at them.

Eventually, they arrived at a sprawling city bursting with life.

The streets pulsed with movement and color. Merchants shouted from crowded stalls overflowing with enchanted objects, rare ingredients, floating lanterns, and impossible artifacts. Banners swayed overhead between towering buildings carved from stone, wood, crystal, and materials Flins couldn’t even identify. Music echoed through the avenues, blending with laughter, footsteps, and the constant hum of thousands of lives crossing paths.

Humans walked beside creatures from myths and nightmares as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oddly enough… it felt welcoming.

Before leaving, the rat handed Flins a folded piece of paper.

An address.

“The person who lives there owes me a favor,” he explained. “If anyone can help you understand what happened to you… it’s them.”

And then, without another word, the wanderer disappeared back into the crowd atop his colossal beetle, vanishing almost instantly among the chaos of the city.

Alone once more, Flins unfolded the paper and stared at the inked directions for a few silent seconds.

That address was the only lead he had. The only thread connecting him to answers.

Tightening his grip on the paper, he took a deep breath and stepped forward into the unknown.