Heron had said he was going to breadcrumb the planet.

  He’d initially thought he was quite clever, like Hansel and Gretel when they were lost in a forest. He failed to realize that it was very different using a loaf of bread and actual crumbs instead of carrying four pocket-full of pebbles.

  His slacks had been filled with handfuls of coin-sized rocks, and as he had stumbled through the forest, it was destabilizing by how much the pebbles jiggled around and threatened to slip out. Turns out carrying rocks around in his pants made it difficult to walk and weighed him down. This was proving to be much more difficult than he had imagined.

  Being clever had never been Heron’s strong suit.

  Rolling his sleeves up, Heron glanced at the sky as the heat from the sun struck down at him. He had yet to see a visible sun, but it was too warm for there not to be and the shadows trailed after him as he walked. While it was nice not to be blinded by the freaking sun when looking up, Heron found it difficult to track his position as the moons were pale in the sky so he resorted to watching the shadows in order to figure out his position to the sun for tracking purposes.

  Every thirty meters or so, Heron would drop a pebble. As he passed the trees and undergrowth, he made an observation with how familiar the nature here felt; the plants likely required the sun to grow, just like his first life. But while observing the scenery around him, there were a few landmarks that looked oddly similar to what he had seen in the previous walks. Maybe he really did circle around; even if he had been a few degrees off, it could’ve resulted in him making a full loop.

  Heron didn’t know what was worse–either repeating the same loop he walked on his first day or ending up nowhere near his temporary campsite.

  He didn’t know if it was better or worse that he didn’t have a preference, simply because both options seemed terrible to him. He wasn’t in dire need of reaching civilization, like a village, but it was still ideal. There was only so much he could do on his own, whether it was surviving or thriving in this new world. But with how things were going, there was that possibility–where he wasn’t circling around on accident–that lingered in his mind. He shook the thought of it away as he continued walking.

  Regardless of what kind of future fate held for him, Heron would make the most of it.

  Heron ran out of pebbles. Fast.

  He didn’t know what he’d been thinking earlier. Who was he kidding? He clearly underestimated the number of pebbles it would take to achieve the endeavor he’d planned.

  So Heron conjured some more.

  The good news? It wasn’t too tiring to create one pebble at a time. The bad news? This whole time, he did not have to be lugging around over a hundred pebbles in his pockets. Go figure.

  The orange streaks filled the horizon as clouds drifted by. Another day where the invisible sun would set and three moons would hang in the sky. Flicking another pebble down onto the forest floor, Heron watched a bird fly high in the sky as the day was coming to an end. The bird was new–in the mornings, he had heard chirping, but he had found it peculiar that he had only heard them sing, but had never seen them.

  For some strange reason–besides the slime and white rabbit–there were little to no animals or lifeforms that had approached Heron. His biggest fear had been predators, such as wolves or bears, and he had not crossed anything threatening yet. Which was great because he would absolutely lose in a 1v1 against any creature, including a mongoose. Especially a mongoose, those things were fierce.

  Something was wrong, and Heron didn’t know what.

  But that wasn’t the only bad news for the evening as Heron approached a familiar sight—or rather, a familiar site. Entering from the shadows of the woods, he crossed into the clearing that he was so familiar with. At this rate, he really might end up naming the boulder considering it was the most noticeable object in this space. Before he could chuckle at the thought, he froze and his heart dropped like a sack of rocks.

  Staring across the clearing, Heron could see the very first pebble he had dropped to mark his starting point in the clearing earlier today.

  Directly Across. Not even thirty or fifteen degrees off. Somehow, the pebble he had placed on purpose was directly across from him in this clearing. Which could only mean one of two things. Originally, he had suspected that he had circled around by accident. People get lost and end up walking in a full circle. That was normal.

  What was not normal was exiting his camp from one end and only to re-enter it from the exact opposite end. Which meant the two other options—and not circling around—were now more likely than the first. His two options were now either there was a magical god playing rude tricks on him, or he had actually looped around the planet.

  Both were terrible and frightening possibilities.

  Heron would’ve preferred if he had been drugged by some kind of fungus spore air particles that had made him hallucinate and had somehow forced him to circle around like a zombie.

  The white rabbit from earlier was no longer in the campsite as Heron trudged into the clearing and sighed as he staggered over to one of the trees. He was physically drained and just wanted to collapse and rest. While he was glad he didn’t have to go to a job anymore, it turned out that being forced to survive in the wilderness was not only awfully tedious, it was also extremely exhausting. He didn’t even have the physical energy to bend over and gather wood for a fire.

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  Instead, Heron closed his eyes and focused on summoning wood from the tree his palm rested on. This was much faster than collecting a bunch of tiny sticks, and he was feeling strangely confident that he was able to do so without collapsing. Most certainly magic used a different source of stamina than his actual physical endurance.

  With his arms full of wood, Heron dropped it over the stones and lit the sticks on fire. It was only his third day here, and he felt oddly comfortable using magic. As if he’d been casting his entire life. Perhaps it was the constant practice of purifying the water, summoning potatoes to eat, creating pebbles, and generating sticks from trees. Or maybe he was just a natural.

  After nourishing himself with his usual meal, Heron curled up under his half-made shelter of wooden planks and stared at the crackling flames. Since he’d been reincarnated, he’d been so busy that he hadn’t fully processed the entire situation properly. It had been survival after survival after survival. Now, with three days of not encountering a predator, his mind was now seeking a higher level of understanding of what was going on.

  Heron had magic. He saw a slime. He’d been living off of potatoes. And he hadn’t encountered any other humans.

  What the hell was this place?

  The hearth slowly withered away into the night as the stars shone brightly in the sky with the three moons smiling down on Heron. With that last train of thought, he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  In the darkness, a pair of red eyes glowed from the bushes.

  Heron woke up to the sound of something moist.

  Squelch.

  “Guhh…” He groaned, his eyes wrinkling as he shut them tighter.

  Squelch, squelch.

  He couldn’t ignore the noise any longer. His eyes flickered open as he stared directly in front of him.

  It was that slime again.

  Well, maybe it wasn’t the same slime. But it was a slime alright. And it was squelching all over his campfire. Heron didn’t move and just watched from laying on his side. The blue slime was wiggling as it appeared to take in the charred pieces of wood. He didn’t know if slimes had mouths or not but one thing was certain was that this thing was gobbling up the black pieces of burnt wood like they were crackers.

  Heron let out a small chuckle as he watched the creature eat the leftover bits of his wood. Then he frowned, realizing that if this darn thing could just eat charred wood, why did it have to nibble on his melon bread?! At the thought of this, he laughed a hearty laugh as the slime slithered away into the bushes.

  One day, Heron was going to summon that melon bread even if it was the last thing he’d do.

  Today, he wasn’t in a rush to get things going. Why? Because he was no longer at risk of dying. While it was true at any moment, something more dangerous than a slime could show up. Whether it was a wolf or a mythical beast, Heron might as well be holding up a sign that said free meal. But he was no longer at risk of dying from starvation, dehydration, or lack of shelter.

  Though he’d have to figure out the clothes situation at some point. Heron didn’t know if this world had seasons but he was screwed if it turned winter tomorrow. For now, he wanted to understand this world a bit better. He was still in a time crunch, just not one that was worried about.

  But maybe he should be worried.

  Heron bathed in the lake, avoided any creatures swimming up his—then he let his clothes dry by the fire as he ate his potato and drank his water. He’d also figured out a cool new trick that didn’t require him drinking water out of his hand like some peasant. And it was as simple as summoning a wooden cup from a nearby tree. It wasn’t varnished but Heron didn’t care. It was something he had made with his bare hands and magic.

  And the white rabbit was back.

  Heron had a feeling it was the same rabbit the past few days considering it was always showing up in the morning and hopping around and eating the grass like it was no big deal. Heron had begun to think of this little white bunny as his newfound companion. It made him feel a little less alone in this strange world. Even the slime was beginning to feel familiar.

  After summoning with all his heart and magical stamina, Heron completed his basic shelter with great pride and joy, hmphing triumphantly as cold sweat dripped down the side of his face. Heron glanced off to the side, towards the direction of the lake. Today he was planning to venture past the lake, which was about ninety degrees from the path he had taken yesterday.

  Little did Heron know he was going to discover the truth about this world today.

  Heron stared at the pebble on the ground.

  It would’ve been fine if it were any pebble. But no, it wasn’t. It was one of his pebbles. One that he had summoned from yesterday. He could tell because once he started summoning pebbles, they were perfectly coin-shaped, unlike the ones he had picked up from the lakeside. And because he had checked just now, turning at a ninety degree angle and walking for about thirty meters when he spotted another one.

  Returning to the original pebble Heron had been staring at, he inhaled then exhaled. Slow. His body was tense and his fingers flinched as his stomach dropped. He knew what this meant, but he didn’t want to admit it. If he admitted it, he would have to accept the reality of his situation. And it wasn’t looking good.

  From yesterday’s walk and today’s walk, the two paths intersected. That could only mean one thing.

  ***

  Heron returned to camp, having made peace with the idea—

  No, who was he kidding? He hadn’t made peace! He was flabbergasted, distraught, and a stressed mess. Walking like a ghoul back to camp with the gorgeous sunset in the background, Heron hauled himself and ran his nightly routine. Routine, for crying out loud. Was this going to be what the rest of his life looked like?

  Well, maybe not. He did finish a basic shelter after all.

  But no, Heron was just a little spicy upset tonight. He couldn’t even have beer, this was absurd. He ate his potato angrily and sighed as he stared up at the stars. He had never wanted much, just a simple life and he was fine doing what the universe wanted him to. But the injustice was far too unjust this time.

  The two paths he walked, yesterday’s and today’s, had intersected. He had thought long and hard on what that could have possibly meant. And each time, he had arrived at the same conclusion. In order for both paths to intersect, it would mean that he had indeed properly looped around.

  The entire goddamn planet.

  Heron blinked, unamused by the three moons who seemed to be laughing at him tonight. If he could loop around an entire planet in one full day which seemed to feel approximately the same length as his first life, then it meant that this place was tiny. Very tiny. And he had not come across a village, let alone a city. Not even a single wandering merchant. Which meant there was a frightening possibility—

  Was he ever going to see another human again?