Threats.
I am wary of threats.
If anyone knew who I truly was—what a threat I am to become—they would hang me before I could plead my case.
I need a mask. Something to hide behind. To observe. To gather information.
Something German. Ordinary. Forgettable.
Johann Berger?
Yes... that fits.
Until I know more—know what this world demands—that is who I am.
If I approached carefully, asked little, spoke less, I could blend in.
I adjusted my coat and hat to fit more cleanly. Wiped the dirt from my face. Then took the first step.
A new identity. A new mask.
Let's see how long my games last.
I walked along a faded dirt path, the kind worn down by time and repetition. Deep grooves from wooden wheels etched their way forward, as if marking the rhythm of a world that hadn't changed in centuries. Hoof prints pressed into the dried dirt, some fresher than others—signs of carts, not machines.
Eventually, I reached the outer edge of the village, where sharpened wooden logs stood upright in a crude wall. A primitive fence, likely meant for defense—or perhaps just tradition.
Primitive, I thought.
I approached the gate and noticed figures standing guard.
Men.
But not the kind you'd find on Earth.
They had the shape of men—but they weren't men at all.
Lizards disguised as men?No... Lizardmen.
It was the only term I could use to describe the abomination.
Their scales shimmered a dull green. Their eyes were slitted. Their claws—long and thick—looked capable of tearing a man apart. Yet they stood silently, gripping spears, likely meant to do the same from a distance.
I felt disgust rise in my chest.But I buried it.
I slowly approached.
"Halt!"
The lizard on the right barked. His voice was raspy but firm.
"State your business."
I paused, thinking carefully. Choosing the right words wasn't easy—especially when speaking to something like this.
"I am a traveler," I said. "I wander... explore the world, sir. I saw this city on the horizon and thought I might investigate."
The two lizards exchanged glances, their yellow eyes flicking toward each other, then back to me.
"Where do you come from?" the right one asked again, more sharply.
"From that hill," I said, pointing toward the moss-covered ridge behind me.
"The Forest of the Unknown?"
Of course it had a name like that. Even more reason to lie.
If I admitted it, they'd likely mock me—or worse, see me as a madman. In this moment, truth was dangerous. A lie was needed.
"No, sir," I replied smoothly. "I came upon the hill from a detour I took north of the woods."
"Is that so?"
"Precisely." I responded.
The two lizards stared at me for several seconds. I did not flinch. I stared back with the same suspicion they had given me.
Suddenly, the left lizard snapped, "Name, human."
I kept my voice calm, steady. "Johann Berger, sir."
A lie, yes—but one I wore well.
Great liars are also great magicians.
And I was about to perform a masterpiece.
His eyes narrowed, tongue flicking. Then he leaned in slightly, voice lower but sharper. "Flashy clothes for a wanderer... Where'd you get them, human?"
There was no curiosity in his tone—only suspicion. Maybe even a threat. I held his gaze.
"Passed down to me," I said flatly. "Old military surplus."
He grunted, clearly unconvinced. "Act smart, human. Not many like you pass through twice."
The right one spat near my feet. "Enter—but know your place, or lose it."
He stepped aside. The left dragged the gate open with one arm.
I didn't flinch. Didn't speak. I walked through.
But my eyes stayed on them.
So did theirs.
As if they already knew I didn't belong.