In the World of Dominance

We all experience loss at some point in our lives. It feels like being cast away on a desolate island, forced to seek another shore to survive. Some of us choose to swim, driven by the hope of reaching an unknown destination. Others decide to stay, clinging to an island that will soon wither and die.

Those who stay are consumed by the lack of resources, and those who swim face exhaustion. Many are dragged under, fighting the relentless currents, while some barely manage to stay afloat. That, to me, is life: a relentless struggle against forces beyond our control.

But what if there were a higher being capable of helping you swim?

What if someone passed by in a boat and saved you just before you drowned? To me, that's what fiction is—a lifeline, like clutching a plastic bottle that keeps you afloat in the endless sea.

Often, I find myself wishing for another world. But what if, one day, that wish came true? What if you really were transported to another world? As a creative, I love isekai stories, along with mystery films, documentaries, and comedy-dramas.

Watching and reading these stories is my way to escape from work stress—it reminds me that no matter how grown-up life gets, keeping a bit of childlike joy alive is key to true happiness.

Lately, I've been obsessed with isekai. A genre release in a Japanese fiction. I've binge-watched and read every title I can find in the genre. Usually, in these tales, people wake up as someone new—like a princess, a hero, a villainess, a baby, or a maid from a powerful family.

So why...why am I here as myself, with no money, no family, and worse, as a captive who could die at any second?! 

"What an impressive achievement, General Helion. Once again, you've proven yourself worthy of your new title."

"You praise me too highly, Your Imperial Majesty. I'm certain that if His Highness, the Prince, joined us, our forces would reach our goals even faster."

I can hear voices echoing all around me. The urge to look up is almost unbearable, but fear keeps my gaze fixed on the ground. We've been ordered to kneel, our hands tied behind our backs, and my legs are growing numb from the prolonged position. All the while, the armored men bask in their own self-praise.

Despite the discomfort, a thrill stirs within me at the thought of seeing a true king and prince for the first time which I can only watch and see in a fairytale book or fantasy novel.

"That can't be helped. Well, I look forward to seeing what kind of slave you've brought this time."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Let me present to you—strong, fortunate knights to serve you."

One by one, the warriors display us like trophies, barely glancing at our faces. A quick sweep of the area reveals the hopelessness of our situation. We are encircled by fully equipped soldiers, each one radiating an intimidating strength. Even the thought of a single flick from one of them makes me shudder.

"Like hell, we'll serve you! We are proud knights of the Aldo Kingdom! We'll serve no king other than our own!" shouts one of the captives beside me, thrashing against his captor's hold.

Woah! This guy has guts. It feels like watching a movie, seeing defiance in the face of power. But… why do I have to kneel with them?

"We refuse to bow to an arrogant man like you! We'd rather die than serve you!" The captives surge in a brief, futile revolt, only to be subdued and forced back down, some bleeding as their heads are wrenched forward.

Admiration for their bravery mixes with my survival instinct to remain silent and just observe. If a chance to escape arises, I'll need my strength. Yet my silence doesn't go unnoticed, it even draws the so-called king's attention.

"I admire their resilience. It'll be a pleasure to train them. But that one? He looks weak."

The words jolt through me, and I don't have to look up to know he's talking about me. My body reacts, trembling uncontrollably as dread seizes me.

"Show me its face," the king commands.

A warrior behind me forced my head up, revealing my face. I saw two thrones on different levels of a stage. An old man, presumably the king, sat at the top with a long sword standing beside him, probably symbolizing the power he holds, while a younger man sat below with a simple throne, looking bored by the proceedings.

Skipping the old man, the younger man's long black hair complemented his warm-toned skin. His golden eyes, paired with thick brows which the other had a scar, glistened ominously, like a predator eyeing its prey, sending a shiver down my spine. 

Oh God! He looked like a prince from the underworld, but he looked good. Ahem!

As I tried to avoid his gaze, my eyes caught an even more disturbing scene. Two women, adorned in beautiful clothes, stood beside them, golden chains trailing from their necks to their feet, while half of their faces were covered with thin clothes. My stomach twisted at the sight—these weren't just pretty decorations. Their eyes were hollow, dead. 

What kind of place was this? It sent a cold chill through me. Was that going to be my fate, too? If I couldn't talk my way out of this, I might not just die—I might be forced to live like that here.

"Hmm… He doesn't look great either." the king comments stop my worries.

'What did that old man say?!' my frantic thought stopped due to the sudden insult I received.

"I don't need that one. You may kill him," the king commanded, waving his hand dismissively as if ordering my execution.

'Ha! This triple M. I might look disheveled now, but I'm confident in my looks. I'm pretty enough to be courted by multiple men!'

(AN: Triple M means Matandang, Mayaman madaling, Mamatay. 

In English: Stinky rich old man who are bound to die due to their age. )

"Wa…wait, wait!"

I had a lot to say to that old man, but more urgently—if they dragged me out, I was sure I'd be dead. Through the open golden doors, I could practically see a dark aura emanating, like a shadow of my impending fate.

"I'm not one of them! I'm not a soldier—or a warrior or anything." My words tumbled out as I struggled against the hands dragging me away, breath hitching as I continued to ramble. 

"I was just a normal citizen—No, I was a HOSTAGE!!" I gasped, nearly out of breath, when the prince raised a hand, and the guard halted.

"Is it true?" His gaze wasn't even on me but on one of the captive warriors. But before anyone could answer, I blurted out, desperate to stay their hand.

"T-They wouldn't know! I was held captive in secret. I escaped, but I stumbled into the wrong cart—a war cart, full of weapons!" I stammered, blurting out things impulsively. "I got caught up in your war by accident." I added.

What the hell am I saying? But I've got their attention, so what can I do to survive? Should I add that I can dance? Sing?

"Hmm…" The prince looked at me, considering the plausibility of my words.

"That's a lie! Our kingdom would never hold a citizen captive!" one of the warriors hissed.

Sorry, but I'm not dying for your kingdom.

"Do you know who took you?" the prince asked. I took a big gulp, preparing to lie through my teeth. "I was held captive by what they called a general,"

'Oh god! I hope their general's not here, and let him be dead too, please.' I silently prayed

"And managed to escape, but I had no idea the cart I climbed onto was headed to war. I mean, think about it, what could a small person like me even do there?" I finished with a pleading look, hoping it was enough to keep my head on my shoulders.

The prince's eyes narrowed. "You survived among knights and warriors—even in the midst of war. That's remarkable, given the nature of our men."

My heart dropped because it was true. My mind race. One wrong answer and I was finished.

"That…that's because I hid among the bodies until I passed out."

Technically true. No one stays sane after seeing a head fall right at their feet.

"Then why would a general imprison a mere citizen?"

"Well,"

'I don't know either,' a quick thought came to mind that I wanted to slap my face with the sudden weak response.

I force myself to think, each thought flashing by like a desperate spark in the dark. I was cornered, no choice but to think fast and force another lie through.

Come on, think, think, think, I urged myself. 

What would make a good answer? There was no way those bored faces would care about modern dance or songs. I scanned the room, eyes darting to the stone-carved pillars etched with cryptic symbols, trying to grasp something, anything that could save me. 

Symbols, numbers, letters…

"I…I can read and write different languages?" I blurted out, eyes closed, praying this lie would save me. If nothing worked, I was certain I'd die. 

I felt the air thicken as gasps echoed around me, following what I had impulsively blurted out, and when I dared to open my eyes, I saw that my words had captured everyone's attention.

I clung to the memory of an ancient stone I'd seen earlier, its surface carved with intricate symbols that looked like a hybrid of Egyptian hieroglyphs and some unknown language.

The prince's eyes lingered on me, as if wondering if he'd just stumbled onto something far more valuable than a mere captive.

"Prove it." The prince rose from his seat, his dark, flowing hair framing a face that now glistened with interest.

Under any other circumstance, his striking appearance might have caught my attention, but right now, he was one of the greatest dangers in the room.

Damn it! How am I supposed to prove something I don't even know myself?

My pulse thundered in my ears. Think, or your neck will meet the blade! 

As I glanced up, the guard's firm grip forced me to bow before the prince, my head throbbing from a sudden rough smack.

The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils, and the stinging pain from my head was far from welcome, yet it sparked a desperate idea from my head.

As I was dipping my finger into a puddle of blood on the ground, I hesitated only for a heartbeat before starting to trace a word onto the floor.

Scribble: +AnHG!nHanNg# buUh#@yY TtO mMam4+AayY nNa B@ Kk()?

Translate: Fuck this life, am I going to die?

I exhaled deeply, my heart race abnormally as my hand shake while scribbling. A desperate, absurd idea took root in my mind, and I couldn't shake it. 

I was insane! The last time I'd used Jejemon was back in high school, scribbling notes in what could only be called the world's ugliest code. But there was no time to second-guess myself.

My mind clung to one thought: Jejemon or death.

As I release my fingers into the blood on the ground, the cool slickness grounding me in the chaos. I silently prayed that my long-forgotten Jeje days would serve me now.

"Your Majesty, I will make use of this man."

My breath caught in my throat as I stared up at the prince, whose lips curved into a menacing smile. 

'What? Did it actually work?!' 

Confusion twisted in my gut as I was ordered to be escorted away, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the prince.

I wanted to feel relief—but all I felt was the deepening realization that I might fell into a more dangerous situation. 

Relief surged through me a moment later when I was finally far away from them. Somehow, my desperate scribbling had succeeded. Gratitude filled my heart for those bygone Jejemon days.

Let's think about how we fix things in the future, more importantly, today…I survive.