The click of the shackles around my wrists was a gunshot, and they faintly rattled as my hands shook.

I kept my head bent as Owen shoved me down onto a log, and I landed heavily next to another man. He was in the same predicament as me, with cuffs clanking around his wrists.

“You’ll wait here until everyone gets back,” Keith said. “Then we’ll take every found dropped to the captain together.”

“Stay quiet, and don’t do anything stupid,” Owen warned, and then they were gone.

As far as I could tell, we were currently in a camp. We had exited the forest, its shade disappearing, and walked through an empty stretch before making it to structures that Keith had weaved around. Voices sounded out all around me as people went to work at multiple tasks. We were isolated away from them, though, so I couldn’t make out any distinct conversations.

“Hey,” the man covertly whispered to me. I pegged him at around forty years old. “You from earth too?”

“Yes,” I responded, turning my head towards him.

“Do you know what the hell is going on? One second I was at work, then the next in that massive forest. My name’s Jacob, by the way.”

“I’m Carter.” As I was currently in an enemy camp, I did not want to give anyone my name. My grandmother had always told me that names had meaning, and should be held closely to your chest. The military had only solidified that belief. “And no, I don’t know much. Did you get the message when you arrived?”

“Yeah, I think so. The one about relocation?” I nodded my head.

Jacob laughed, a broken sound. “It’s just all so surreal. I keep hoping I’ll finally wake up.”

Turning my head away, I told him what I had reasoned. “It’s not a dream.” I had come to that conclusion, feeling that it would only be detrimental to pretend this was just another delusion.

“Yeah… yeah, I know.”

Suddenly, there was an invidious smack to the back of my head, and Jacob’s yelp told me he had received the same.

“I said stay fucking quiet, didn’t I?” Owen imperiously said.

I sneered at the dirt, indignation curdling my stomach. He walked away with vigor in his step, and Jacob muttered next to me.

“Asshole.”

We were quiet after that, not wanting a repeat performance. Others—I assumed from earth—slowly filled the log we were sitting on. All of us made a picture of silent prisoners. By the time the sixth had been seated, the sun had started to fall, the chill bringing goosebumps to my skin.

An unknown man spoke, and Keith stood by his side. “Everyone get up. We’re taking you to the captain, and we’ll find out what to do with you then.”

We walked in a line, and Keith came to stand next to me. Whether to keep me in check, or help lead me, I did not know. Weaving through what I assumed to be tents, murmurs from different groups of people followed our parade. The nightlife in the forest woke with the arrival of the dark, and cicadas adding to the cacophony of sounds. They led us into a large tent, and our only welcome was the scratch of writing against a desk.

“Sir, we collected any drops we could find, as per your orders,” the other man reported. The writing stopped, and a deep but quiet voice responded.

“Good. Set them all up in a tent tonight, then tomorrow, test them for aptitude in any form of combat. Take those with you. For the less proficient, put them with the workforce gathering materials for defenses. Put the women under the group in charge of cooking and the like. Dismissed,” he finished, and the movement of the pen started up again.

“Sir!” Keith and the other saluted simultaneously, and we were led back outside.

“You two women, follow me. Keith, take the four.” The three walked away swiftly, and Keith herded the rest of us into an unoccupied tent.

We each found our own cot, as Keith addressed us from the entrance. “Sleep now, and I’ll come back in the morning. Don’t try to leave. It won’t turn out well.” With nothing further, he exited.

There was a brief silence before Jacob spoke. “Crazy day, huh?” There was a subdued chuckle from one of the others, and Jacob cleared his throat. “I’m Jacob. Seems we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament.”

“I’m Liam.”

“Drake,” a younger man, around eighteen, said.

I finished the odd introduction circle. “My name is Carter.”

Silence showed its face once again, and I laid down on my cot. There wasn’t much point talking further, since none of us knew anything of consequence. We were all in the dark, and the only thing we could do was wait for the day.

The others engaged in some stilted conversation, but I tuned it out. I was used to falling asleep at the drop of the hat—it was a trait you had to learn when in the military. But I found it a slight struggle since Mya was no longer next to me. Over time, I had gotten used to the dog’s presence, and it felt odd to sleep without her. I wondered if she had also been moved from Earth as well.

Sleep came eventually, and she faded from my thoughts.

I woke up first, soft breathing and snores still filling the tent. Sitting up, I rubbed my sore wrists that were still in shackles. It wasn’t long before Keith walked into the tent, urging us to quickly wake and get moving. We were given a quick meal before another guard led the three away while Keith pulled me aside.

“You’re blind, so you won’t have much use, if any, in combat. I’m handing you over to the workforce. Hopefully, they’ll have something for you to do.” I nodded my head, pretending like I understood, and followed along.

I was handed over to a man whose voice was at least a head above my own. He was entirely displeased about being given a “fucking cripple to help with a workload that wouldn’t be finished in ten fucking years,” verbatim. Keith shrugged and said that he was only following orders.

His name was Argeth, and he roughly led me past even more tents. “Ilya! Ilya! Where the hell is that boy?”

“Argeth, sir! Right here!” a small voice answered, running up to us. I guessed it was from a boy about ten years old.

“Take this cripple and get him an axe. Your new job is to guide and show him what to do. Shit, just make sure he doesn’t miss and chop someone's fucking head off.” He stomped away, gone as quickly as he had appeared. I turned my head to Ilya, who seemed stunned at the sudden order.

“Uh… cripple?” he seemed to ask himself, instead of asking me directly. Still, I responded.

“Can’t see,” I pointed my finger towards my missing eyes.

“Oh! Okay… um, come with me.” His small hand gripped my wrist, pulling me to a smaller tent that was crowded with objects, as we could barely take a step inside. He picked up something, and we were off again, heading back towards the forest. I had almost tripped over some stumps from fallen trees before we made it to ones that were still standing. The swinging of axes could be heard spread out systematically, and Ilya put one into my hands. I found I could grip it easily, even with the cuffs on.

“So… go ahead. You know where the tree is, right?” I did, but I didn’t answer.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do I need to chop down the tree?”

“Uh… for materials?” he answered, unsure.

“Materials for what?” I decided to make it easier for him. “I only just arrived here yesterday. Everyone is calling me a ‘dropped,’ and that is why I have handcuffs on. I know nothing of this world.”

Ilya gasped in surprise. “Ah, I’m so stupid! Everyone was talking about it last night, but I didn’t realize you were one. Sorry.”

I gestured for him to continue. “Well, the Federation is fighting a war against The Gothsend Alliance. We’re supposed to chop down trees for defenses, and every day, caravans take what we produce to the front lines for the Federal Army.”

“Why are they fighting?”

“I don’t know much, but I heard that the cities of Gothenburg, Markitan, and Sethdol in the west got sick of the Federations' complete control, and decided to ally together to fight. Together, I think they have enough men to fight against the Federation’s army. Those cities have a lot of nobles and guards, and used to be part of the Federation,” he explained, and Ilya’s voice gained excitement as he talked about the supposed nobles.

“Are there many of these camps?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, all along the forest line.” He shuffled nervously, his head brushing my arm as he seemed to look behind me at the camp. “I- I think we should get started before Argeth sees us slacking.”

“Alright.” I rested my hand against the tree in front of us, getting a feel for its location. It wasn’t too thick.

“We want it to fall in the gaps, so you’ll make a notch on this side so that it will fall that way.” He guided me with his voice to show the given directions. “Make a horizontal cut, then a cut from the top.”

I got started, swinging the axe parallel to the tree. It didn’t go in very far, so I repeated the action, hoping I was hitting the same spot. The unfamiliar movement had already started to make my shoulders slightly burn. Wood chips flew around us, and Ilya watched until he deemed the cut deep enough for the next one.

It was slow going, each swing sticking, forcing me to wiggle it and remove a chunk of wood. The sun had started to rise, making sweat stream down my back and face. Moving to the other side of the tree as directed, I cut until ominous cracking sounded out, and both Ilya and I moved back. It had taken about an hour for an amateur like me to take down a single tree. My hands had started to burn, the wood of the handle chafing against my skin, and I felt a trickle of blood roll down my finger.

I was startled out of my assessment as words sounded out in my head.

[Strength +1]

It was the same voice as yesterday, and I recalled it saying something about a title then.

“Ilya, I just got a message that strength went up by one. What does it mean?”

“Huh? You don’t know? Didn’t you have statuses in your world?” He sounded completely puzzled, like a ‘status’ was a given that everyone should know about.

“No. Is it why the soldiers in this world are so strong? It was unnatural.”

“Yeah. Here, you can increase your attributes and skills, and some people can become really strong or really smart. I’m a kid, so my attributes can only naturally increase for now as I grow.”

“How do I access mine?”

“You just have to think ‘status’ and you’ll be able to see it in front of you. Well…usually. I’m not sure how it will be for you.”

I did as he said, and for the first time in eight months, I saw something other than the void.

Name: Cain Miller

Title: Blind Man's Avarice

Class: None

Strength: 15

Endurance: 21

Vitality: 12

Dexterity: 15

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 19

Perception: 2

Skills: None

It was odd to see my person summed up by numbers. I couldn’t help but notice how my perception was laughably low compared to the other stats. The title also drew my attention, and I was sure I had gained it yesterday. I focused on it, hoping to glean some more information.

[Blind Man’s Avarice] - [Blindness does not stop your greed for advancement. Skill and stat improvements are accelerated.]

It seems I had been rewarded for my decisiveness yesterday. Was killing another usually a means to advance? I received the title right after I killed that man. It gave a new perspective on the laws of this world. The civil war in the west could be seen as a place to grow stronger, and Owen and Keith had brushed off their companions' death very quickly, as if it were commonplace.

It was easy to see this world being a meritocracy, ruled by the strong. If that was true, and my title was correct, I could gain my own strength, and never become a prisoner again.