Chesty could have sworn that he had spontaneously perished and gone to Heaven. His vision was nothing but a pure white space, and a disembodied sensation enveloped him as if he were submerged in a pool of water. He could not breath, or move; only his thoughts raced through his head as he remained in a state of paralysis. The only sound Chesty could perceive was a heavy thumping, as if his own heart had been placed up close to his ear.

'What the hell is happening?' Fear gripped him, which did little more than enforce his state of helplessness. 'Is this the end?'

Chesty could not even focus his mental faculties on any theory to explain his predicament. Instead, an overwhelming sense of dread and a profound feeling of mournful regret dominated his mind. Thoughts raced through his head, thinking about the consequences of his sudden departure from the mortal realm.

'I wonder how anyone is gonna find me... Will I be a partially rotten corpse lying in the forest, exposed to animals and the elements?'

If Chesty wanted to shed a tear, he still could not do even this simple expression of his grief. His mind turned to his faith, trying to find momentary comfort and struggling with his own moral ledger.

'Am... I gonna see Papaw in a few moments? Do I really deserve to go to Heaven, given that I have taken the lives of other people?'

His thought turned to his family. Chesty desperately wanted to cry.

'Mom... Dad... Julia... How are they gonna deal with the fact that their son and brother is gone, so soon after Papaw died?'

Implausibly, the white light around Chesty only intensified, and he managed to shut his eyes. It was the only muscle movement he could manage in his unnatural state of immobility. He braced himself for either the gates of Heaven or the Circle of Wrath.

'Goodbye...'

Chesty's heart raced as he felt himself falling. The scary sensation was brief as he fell a short distance and landed with little grace upon solid ground. Chesty could feel minor pain, a surprise given the fact that he was coming to terms with dying only a few seconds ago.

He pushed himself up with his arms, and the sensation of grass between his fingers and under his palms was unmistakable. There was even cool dew that had smeared onto Chesty's hands. Fingers slowly grasped, as their owner needed a superficial sense of confirmation that he was still on Earth, and not in the afterlife. Chesty began to inhale greedily for air, and he started putting his knees underneath him in preparation for standing.

Suddenly, the rest of Chesty's senses began to clear, though it gave way to a visceral feeling of nausea. Breathing deeply to fight the urge to start emesis, he opened his eyes slowly, and was pleased to see that the blinding white color a few moments ago had given way to a gentler twilight of dusk. A lack of natural or even artificial light in the area was notable, but there was some ambient environmental light that saved Chesty from struggling in complete darkness. His nausea was also being calmed by the fact that the air was cool and pleasant; there was little humidity, a rare feeling during a typical Floridian summer.

Of course, Chesty was far too occupied with his own discomfort to take a good look at his surroundings. His eyes stared down at nothing but fresh grass that easily stood just past ankle height. Getting into a rhythm of breathing and swallowing thickly to not get sick, Chesty realized that sitting upright would better help his nauseous stomach recover. Clumsily, he pushed and maneuvered his legs until he sat up. Looking up, he became mesmerized by the sight of many stars.

He lived in an area where light pollution was relatively minor. However, the tranquil sight of a clear night sky back home paled in comparison to the starry canvas Chesty was currently witnessing. He was hardly an expert on constellations beyond the instantly recognizable Big Dipper, but this did not matter. The sight was pleasant and soothing given the lengthy moment of despair and terror he had just experienced.

The nausea continued to slowly recede, and Chesty dared to check out his immediate surroundings. In front of him was a large grassy plain, with a green mountain to the left of it. Trees such as conifers and the occasional deciduous tree could just be observed from the height Chesty was at on the ground.

At ground level, a variety of white, pink, and blue wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze. They too, could not be identified, but Chesty ignored the urge to categorize everything he saw until he knew precisely where he was. A variety of shrubs were also in the area, and budding trees joined the flowers in a solemn waving with the passing of quiet gusts of wind.

Turning around, he noticed that he was merely feet away from what appeared to be a hiking path or game trail. Outwardly, it looked to be a natural formation, as indicated by outgrowths of rock which jutted out of the ground and flanked the path from both sides. Trees were in full, green bloom, as far as the eye could see. In the distance, Chesty could see, to his astonishment, a large series of plateaus that were the color of harsh, orange clay.

It was clear he was no longer in Florida, and this silent realization brought a new wave of heartache in the young man.

"Then where the hell am I?" He muttered aloud, privately scared of finding out.

He brought his watch up to look at it, but it was readily clear that it had become deactivated or broken. The plastic screen was blank, and no pushing of any buttons could rouse it from its catatonic state. Chesty had a terrible feeling that any object more advanced than the steam engine would have suffered a similar fate.

As it stood, there was indication of what time it was, for the moon was nowhere in the sky. It was either the new moon, or it was hidden behind one of the large geological formations that Chesty had identified. If it was daytime, he could more readily estimate what time it was in relation to the summer solstice, which had passed the day before. The Sun would also give him an idea of direction; depending on which direction it rose or set, Chesty could begin to gauge where he was or could move.

"I guess I have to rough it out until morning." Chesty conceded.

He rose to his feet, and growled with discomfort and annoyance when he felt pins and needles in his legs. Sitting for too long had reduced the circulation of blood to his lower limbs, and he would be hobbling until blood flow was restored thanks to gravity. At the very least, he no longer felt he was under threat of throwing up, and though he was slowed down by temporary paresthesia, he could still, nonetheless vacate himself from being out in the open.

There were no clouds in the sky, but Chesty felt unsafe being so out in the open. If he wanted to get some rest, it would be better to be under the shade of a tree than next to a field where a predator could easily spot him.

Looking about, he settled his gaze on a large, healthy tree roughly ten yards away from him. It looked like a stockier oak tree, but the leaves were more akin to that of a rose bush, with a rounded, diamond shape. Passing a large expanse of expose rock to his right, Chesty made his way to the tree, and noticed that it was flanked by a small out cropping of rock, similar to the stone projections lining the path nearby.

"It'll hide me pretty well, but I could be flanked if they approach me from the path." Chesty said to himself. In such an unknown situation, the soldier side of him subtly activated itself, prioritizing survival over comfort.

Glancing about, it became clear that there were other trees with a similar build and with similar neighboring stones that could be exchanged. There was no immediate benefit to changing his choice of bedding for the night. Chesty's mild exhaustion also contributed to his begrudging decision.

"It's far from ideal, but it'll have to do."

Removing parts of his gear that could uncomfortably press into his body, he hid his insulated water bottle, quiver, and most of his arrows. He kept his bow in hand, and had one arrow gripped in a spare hand. In a worst case scenario, he would at least take the eye or puncture the throat of whatever dared to attack him in his slumber.

There was little in the way of cushioning the ground around Chesty. Furthermore, the cool air which helped to take his mind off of the short lived bout of nausea would likely undermine his ability to sleep. It was going to be a rough night, and it would be a miracle to get more than an hour or two of continuous rest.

"God I hope this is nothing more than a weird dream..." Chesty knew that he could distinctly feel stimuli that were not so easily replicated if he were in deep sleep. It was a vain hope that he would wake up back home, where he had loving kin and a house to enjoy modern comforts.

Chesty muttered a silent prayer under his breath, and closed his eyes. The only blanket to cover him was the cool night air and the light of a sea of stars.

Interesting fact: the place where Chesty ends up is near the tail end of a horse trail that runs through Dalite Forest, which is southwest of the Sanidin Park Ruins. Aka, it is in the southern most part of the Hyrule Ridge Region. The cover image for this story is a screen shot I took of the night sky in the location where Chesty winds up.

To answer a review by MasterKohga, (the head banana of the Yiga no doubt):

Why did I not grant Chesty a firearm given that he knows how to use one? Two reasons.

One, logistics. Chesty would only have so much ammunition to use against the monsters and foes in Hyrule before running out. Then he would just have a makeshift club or bludgeon to wield.

Second, it is not abnormal for people to bow hunt, and given that Chesty is using a compound bow (essentially a modern take on the bow and arrow we know in history), that entailed, in my opinion, plenty of technological advantage for Chesty to possess. Besides, if Rambo can use a bow and be just as effective in combat, surely Chesty could perform a downscale version of that proficiency.

Admittedly, I would not mind making a story of a firearm wielding OC in Breath of the Wild. There is a prescient for such weapons, albeit on a larger scale. The Akkala Citadel has cannons, so it would not take too much ingenuity to take that design and make it handheld. Robbie of the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab would probably try a Guardian tech variation if he was inspired as such.

However, such a story with guns would have to be done artfully. I think integrating an overly modern weapon would be too jarring, even for a Zelda title with giant machines and autonomous killer robots. But something like a 19th century rifle/ revolvers/shotgun? That'd be pretty sweet.

Gun-based tangent aside, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll try to limit author notes to clarifying the location of where Chesty is/ what NPC he is talking to. As always, thank you for your support.