Reborn into a World Without Us

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the landscape Alex had called home for eight long years. The last two years had been dedicated to a singular purpose: building the ship that would take him on a voyage across the unknown seas. Now, as he stood on the deck of his finished vessel, the culmination of years of hard work and meticulous planning, Alex couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and trepidation.

His ship was not just a vessel for exploration; it was a lifeline. The ship was large enough to house him and all his farm animals, a necessary measure to ensure their safety. "I could have built an automatic feeding system, a drinking system, even with gears and all, but protection? That's a whole different story," Alex thought to himself. The wilds were teeming with predators, and leaving the animals behind would have meant certain death for them. "Besides," he mused, "the ship is big enough, and I'd get lonely without them. It's eerily quiet on my own—too quiet. If it weren't for everything that happened to me, I might have gone insane by now."

As he made his final rounds on the ship, Alex's mind wandered to something that had been bothering him for a while—his own body. He was 22 years old when he transmigrated to this world, and despite the passage of eight years, his body hadn't changed. "Normally, you'd expect to see some changes as you grow older. A bit taller maybe, a little extra weight here and there if you're not careful with your diet and exercise. But me? Aside from growing hair and a beard, I'm pretty much the same as I was when I first got here."

It wasn't just his physical appearance that was odd. Alex had noticed that his wounds healed unnaturally fast. He recalled the first time he realized this, after cutting his wrist while crafting an induction furnace. "It was just a small cut," he remembered, "but it healed in a minute. No scar, no scab, nothing." Intrigued, Alex had conducted a series of experiments on himself, from small cuts to more significant wounds, just to see how his body would react. Every time, the results were the same: rapid healing, no scars. "It's like I've got a downgraded version of Wolverine's healing factor or something," he thought with a wry smile.

But as strange as his physical resilience was, it was his mental state that truly puzzled him. "I've been in this world for eight years now, completely isolated, and yet I haven't gone mad. No irritation, no anxiety, no disrupted sleep. I haven't had a mental breakdown, no hallucinations, no paranoia. It's weird, really. You'd think that after so long in isolation, I'd be a mess. But I'm not. I haven't even felt depressed or anxious, not even once. No suicidal thoughts either. And I know what that feels like; I've been through all of that before in my old world. But here? Nothing."

Alex shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "I'm not a robot—I still feel emotions. But all those negative thoughts, the mental struggles? They're just… gone. It's almost too good to be true."

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Alex turned his attention to the preparations for his voyage. The ship was equipped with everything he needed for a long journey. He had installed a food storage area complete with refrigeration technology to keep perishables fresh, along with a pantry for non-refrigerated items. There was also a storage facility for daily necessities, a greenhouse for growing fresh produce, a seed storage area, a barn for the animals, a fishing facility, a workshop, a lab, and a living space that was as comfortable as he could make it.

"I don't want to sleep on a bunk bed," Alex said to himself as he inspected the living quarters. "If I'm going to be on this ship for years, I want it to be as comfortable as possible." He had reused all the furniture and equipment from the house. He also made new ones for his taste.

After thinking about it, as food is easily spoiled during the trip, he had even gone so far as to build a small canned food factory, producing mostly canned meats and fruits to ensure he had a steady supply of food that wouldn't spoil.

With everything in place, Alex felt a sense of readiness mixed with a deep reluctance. Before setting sail, he decided to take one last walk around the land that had been his home for the past eight years. He might not return for another two to four years—maybe even longer.

He walked to his farmland, taking in the sight of the now-empty rice paddies. "It's the end of the dry season," he thought. "The paddies are empty now, no rice in sight." He had already harvested all the plants that could be useful and had transplanted them into the greenhouse on the ship. His food and medicinal plants were stockpiled, enough to last him for four years without needing to farm or hunt.

With the advent of the internal combustion engine, Alex had exceeded the limits of manual labor. Tasks that once took days of hard work could now be completed with relative ease. "It's amazing what you can accomplish when you're not tied down by the demands of farming," he thought as he surveyed his land one last time.

Speaking of stockpiling food and medicinal plants, Alex had also made significant advancements in his medical technology. "I didn't bother with setting up a full-scale factory for medicine," he thought, "but I can make my treatments now. Not that I need them anymore, considering how my body works, but they're crucial for the animals." His farm animals, though resilient, were not invincible. Unlike modern domesticated animals, they retained much of their wild heritage, making them stronger and more resistant to disease. "Survival of the fittest, I guess," Alex mused. "But even they get sick sometimes. Back when I first started here, I'd rely on natural remedies, which were hit or miss. But now, with better equipment, I can at least treat their illnesses and give them supplements to keep them strong."

Finally, Alex entered his house. It was eerily empty, the furniture and utensils all repurposed for the ship. The laboratory and workshop, once buzzing with activity, were now silent and bare. He stood in the doorway, reminiscing about the countless hours spent here, crafting, experimenting, building a life in this strange new world.

With a deep breath, Alex stepped out of the house, his heart heavy with the weight of leaving behind the place that had been his refuge. But there was no turning back now. The ship was ready, the supplies were packed, and it was time to set sail.

He walked briskly to the ship, his resolve firm despite the gnawing reluctance in his gut. After double-checking all the supplies, Alex climbed aboard and took his position at the helm. The ship's engine roared to life, a deep, steady rumble that sent vibrations through the deck. With a final look at his home, Alex set the ship in motion.

The vessel glided smoothly away from the shore, the water parting gracefully before the bow. As the land receded into the distance, Alex couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness. "I already miss this place," he thought, his eyes lingering on the fading shoreline. But as the ship sailed further into the open sea, Alex turned his gaze forward, focusing on the journey ahead. The vast, uncharted waters called to him, promising new discoveries and perhaps even answers to the mysteries that had haunted him since he arrived in this world.

As the last traces of his home disappeared from view, Alex squared his shoulders and set his sights on the horizon. The world was vast, and he was ready to face whatever lay beyond the horizon.

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Author's Note:

Give me stones, I like stones. Plzz stone me to death. Give me a review too. Plzz