A Soldier Adrift: An Isekai Story

Chapter 1 – Crazy or Real?



As soon as he woke up, he found himself lying in a soft, comfortable bed. The ceiling was unusually white, not what he was expecting.

Did they rush me into the clinic? That was the first thing that came to mind.

If they did, that would be almost too fast. Just a moment ago, he was on the battlefield. The only way to either get him out of the battlefield and towards the nearest clinic would be through a chopper. But... how would they even get a chopper to land if it could be vulnerable to missiles and launchers?

Blinking, a terrifying thought came to mind.

'Could it be that I’m captured?'He instantly sat upright and took a quick look at the surrounding area. However, he regretted it a bit as he felt a slight pain in his lower back.

What he saw wasn't what he was expecting; he was actually in a hospital room. Not the kind of medical room at boot camp, but a real hospital.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled, confusion the right word for what he was feeling at the moment. He blinked, wondering why his voice sounded strange for some reason.

'Did they get me to the city?' He shook his head, denying that possibility quickly. 'No, that’s impossible. They wouldn’t go that far for a soldier like me. I must be captured; that’s the only way to explain this.'

Then something caught his eye. Just beside him, he saw… a robot. A freakin' robot. It was small, square in shape, and had the color of white, with two glasses as eyes. In its center laid a screen with the word ‘Sleep' on it.

“What the fuck,” he repeated, this time louder.

Was this a prank or a dream?

Could it be a toy?

If Mike somehow orchestrated this prank, he would—

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the lifeless robot became alive as its eyes shone bright, surprising him in the process. Two little arms popped out from its sides as it looked at him curiously.

They both stared at each other. Not a single word was uttered from his mouth.

He honestly didn’t expect it to turn on, and most importantly, to immediately stare right at him the second it turned on. His body tensed up, not knowing if the robot was friendly or not. It could very well attack him at any moment. His eyes scanned the room, finding anything that could be used as a weapon in case this robot decided to attack.

“Patient 15713, Jason Kenhart, am I correct?” The robot spoke first, breaking the silence.

'Who?' he wondered, looking around again, trying to see if there were any other people in the room, but he was the only one in the room.

Was it talking to him?

Who the fuck is Jason Kenhart?

He wasn’t Jason Kenhart; he was Garson Grave, a soldier of the Republic.

“Just to be clear, you’re talking to me, right?” He couldn't help but ask, pointing at himself. He sounded crazy talking to a robot like he would talk to a person.

The robot tilted its head in a rather unnerving manner.

“The reports suggest there is no brain damage. Patient 15713, have you perhaps experienced amnesia?”

Amnesia? No, that couldn’t be right; he had no amnesia aside from not remembering why he was here. He could still remember everything clearly as day. The men he killed, the screams and pleas of those who wanted to surrender and all those bullshits he has gone through. He remembered them all whether he liked it or not.

However there was one thing he was skeptical about, or more confused by, was the addition of other memories that he was sure weren’t his. Because who the fuck is Lusina? He was sure he didn't know this woman or hadn't met her in his entire life. Still, he felt the memories were incomplete in some aspects, though he couldn't quite tell.

“I—” What was he going to answer?

He felt his brain short-circuit for a moment, and that could be said of his mouth. He couldn’t find the right word to say. He was immensely confused about what was happening. His brain couldn’t even process such a rapid change of events. One moment he was on the verge of death, and now he was here in a hospital bed with a talking robot that was apparently somehow sentient.

Was he crazy? Did the PTSD of war take a toll on him that much?

He felt a headache incoming.

The robot simply took that silence as a yes before saying, “I see. Dr. Poe will be here shortly to assess you.”

He could only nod, not recognizing the name of the doctor that the robot was talking about. If he was in a military hospital or clinic, he already knew most, if not all, of the doctors there. But this one was completely unfamiliar to him.

Time passed relatively fast, and his anxiousness grew. The robot shut itself down after prescribing him to take the medicine that was on the table.

He didn’t take the medicine, afraid that it could be a truth serum or anything that went against his will. Or maybe it was poison or something worse. He wouldn’t take the chance.

Waiting for the doctor, he tried to stay calm and assess his situation and thought of multiple theories as to what was happening to him.

A dream, which was a plausible answer, had the highest chance of being true.

A prank, a slim chance, but it could be.

A simulation, which he doubted. There was no technology that had been invented yet to perform seamlessly without any distortion if his memory serves him right.

He touched and felt everything in the room and found it to be real, as real as it would be in real life.

Before he could delve further into his theories, an audible sound rang nearby. He turned his head to the door that suddenly opened.

A man in a white cloak greeted him. He had a rather stoic look on his face, maintaining a rather strict doctor's look. For his appearance, there was nothing notable. However, his attention was on the right tablet in his arm. It looked different from what he was used to seeing. 

“Good morning, Mr. Jason. Are you feeling any better?” His voice was as stoic as his face.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess,” he replied quite awkwardly, averting his eyes to somewhere else. He didn’t trust him or this place, not one bit, but he had to pretend to be this ‘Jason’ as the robot called him until he was able to grasp the situation at hand.

The doctor nodded, accepting his answer without a doubt. “I see,” was all he could say before suddenly grabbing his arm.

He almost retaliated at the man's sudden action but only held himself back in time. He didn’t want to be suspicious, not when he was vulnerable at the moment. He could never know if there was a gun pointing at him right now.

Gotta stay calm. Gotta stay calm. He reminded himself.

The doctor eyed him for a moment. “You seem rather tense?”

He gave no reply to the doctor. His eyes focused on him. Any suspicious movement from the doctor, he would act.

The doctor then proceeded to lift his other hand and inspect it for just a couple of seconds before letting go. “Your heart rate and blood pressure are stable, and no abnormalities are found. Good to know.”

He blinked, not expecting he was checking his health. And did he just assume that by just raising his hand?

He wondered what kind of bullshit that doctor just did to do that miraculously. If not for controlling himself, he would roll his eyes, but that would be rude to an unknown figure. He wouldn't want to be rude.

“Tell me, Mr. Jason, do you remember anything before this?”

He took a moment to answer him. Outside, he kept a rather calm facade to hide the emotional turmoil from the inside. The situation was getting stranger by the minute, and he didn’t like it.

“Sorry, but I don’t remember. My memories are a bit foggy,” he answered truthfully, without any hint of uncertainty.

“I see,” the doctor hummed. “Well then, that will be all for today. I’ll be back shortly. While waiting, your parents should be here in about a couple of minutes.”

My parents?

One thing is for sure: his parents were dead.

'Just… where the heck am I?'


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