With an uncontrollable yawn and shiver Martyn woke up. The cold night had left him yearning for a sense of warmth that never came.

It also provided him with concrete proof of his new situation, allowing both memories to meld into one, enhancing his current understanding of the world and his being.

Now sitting up with his back against the wall, he sighed. He couldn’t save them, not like he could in his previous life. Something just had to happen.

Being had seen dead bodies and experienced his parent’s death before he could cope.

“Of all the times I could have been sent here, I came in the era of vampire-eating people, zombie-eating people, and rainbow unicorn-eating people. And then there’s Ice King. I don’t know if this is after or before he left Marceline, not even sure if he’s already gone mad.”

Not wanting to dive further, he read the book he dismissed last night.

“Dad’s writing; heh, always the man with a backup plan.”

His fingers dried as he scurried through the pages. This place was meant to be a basement but was unfinished; it was a small space, at least five by four metres.

Across from the mattress, which took one wall, and the ladder in front were four bookshelves, one filled with jars instead of books, the second with mechanical parts, the third with no-surprise books, and the fourth with boxes of clothing and utensils.

There was one door beneath the ladder, which, with the image on top, was a shower.

“Raw honey, rice, pickles, salt, and sugar—huh,  a lot of indefinite foods on this list.”

He spoke aloud in the empty basement.

“How to make your bikes,” amusement left his lips.

Two conflicting memories flooded the surface of his mind: flashes of him and his father working to repair his bike.

“I guess some things aren’t so different. Even if this is based on Adventure Time. Hm… with the shower connected to the flowing river, I won’t have to worry about showering in the open and potentially being attacked by rainicorns.”

‘I’m starting to question Jake’s choice of women.’

Standing up, he moved to the shelf, looking at the other books and what his father had jotted down.

“Map, where is the map? Ah, found you.”

He grabbed the book and, along with his father’s notes, figured out where he was.

“Good, there’s a town near here. If I can find a bike, things will be a bit easier.”

Focusing more, he looked at the map and assessed that it was the same as the one at home before they had to burn it down.

It marked areas of high vampire activity and human settlements. ‘Those areas are where they’re staying.’

Revenge bubbled up to the surface, but only for a second. What could he do? He was human, and though magic was now coursing through the world, he had no way to access it.

“Not like I’d do much anyway," he said with a sigh, closing the book.

“I should focus on what I can do right now.”

After a cold shower, which was the only temperature, he changed his attire. He is now sporting dark jeans and a shirt with a hoodie to mask his figure and his bearskin hat. He was ready to go looting.

With some reluctance, I climbed up the ladder. It was a struggle, but he managed to open himself up.

‘Mom.’ There was nobody; he could only assume what had happened.

Even with the blood boiling, there was nothing he could do. What he did, however, was get his feet wet in the flowing water. Finding a large enough piece of rock, he lifted it and carried it to the bloodied spot.

With a hunting knife and a painstakingly long amount of time, he carved his mother's and father’s names.

‘I want him dead.’ He cursed the shapeshifting vampire from last night. Tearing himself from the area, he marched to the town.

“I’ll need a radio.”

Passing through thickets of bushes, he found the path mentioned on the map; it was a dirt road.

Grabbing a stick, he planted it in the ground in the direction of the basement.

-Lc-

The town felt hollow, with broken cars and dried-up human corpses. From both experiences in life, he’d seen dead bodies; it was the norm in this apocalypse.

‘A hardware store!’ He smiled and hurried to the doors.

Before opening, he pulled out a baseball bat from his sack, a common rule to never loot without a weapon.

The hinges creaked, he stepped on broken glass, and slowly he moved aisle by aisle, not leaving any space unexplored.

“It’s empty, good. except for the staff room. And a lot of things have already been taken.”

He found a wrench on the floor, some matches, no saws or screws, nothing.

Carefully, he moved to the door of the staff room. Though he was a teenager, his body had gone through proper exercise and training.

With a strong kick, the door broke open, and he raised his bat for... nothing.

Just as he relaxed, a groan came from the darkness; his nose flared up, and he turned running.

The groan morphed into a roar. Jumping over the counter, he heard something clash with the desk and scurry.

As he dashed to the door, the thing that came after him only resembled a human in proportions, holding in its body and spewing green acid.

“Fuck!”

Martyn turned as the thing was right behind him, and with a swing of his bat, it landed against its head.

A thunk, and it fell, groaning for a few seconds, only for it to try and get back up.

“Yeah, no.”

He swung again at its head over and over, the tip of his bat slowly melting, but that didn’t stop him; he kept going until it was dead for sure.

The oozer was dead; his bat was no longer useful. He dropped it and switched to the wrench.

His racing heart came to a stop as two more edged out of the store. One had no arms but was spewing a large amount of acid, and the other half had multiple pale green arms.

No hesitation was required; he turned and ran as they roared and followed him.

Thankfully, his bag was empty, and faster than ever as he swerved to the left, the Oozers were gaining on him.

He glanced back, only to roll to the side as a ball of acid was launched where he stood.

Not waiting, he charged at the multi-armed Oozer and slid across the ground, sticking at its ankles.

A loud crack followed, and it fell. Quickly,  he focused on the spitter, who was gurgling another blast; avoiding it, he struck it at the knees.

Both had difficulty moving; the spitter did, but the other was crawling like an animal, using its extra arms as legs.

Martyn moved back, swinging his wrench, but it did little as it was now standing low. But it was slower, which means he can run. And so he went back into the store.

‘I need something heavy.’

He found a metal case meant to hold the tool. Nodding,  he grabbed the item and ran back out. He met the Oozer halfway and brought the case down upon it.

Again and again, until its body was nothing more than mush and acid, the other Oozer was shuffling its way towards him with little progress.

That kill was easier, with deep breaths. Martyn returned to the store, heading to the staff room. He found nothing of note aside from some corpses.

Beyond that led to a storage room; the door was locked. “It’s never easy.”

He raised the wrench and brought it down.

*Clank!*

The doorknob fell, and with a thump, the door opened. A smile etched on his face saw cardboard stacked on shelves.

With a smile, he clapped, “Time to loot.”

The shelves were marked; of course, he wasn’t going to grab everything there, just what he deemed useful, like a blow torch, flashlights, some metal tubes, a basic toolkit, and a mini generator, though it was a bit heavy. He brought it outside.

Leaving the generator behind, he went further into the town, wrench in hand. It wasn’t long, however, before he spotted a bike.

It was rusty and perched against a wall, but it was in good condition.

‘I wonder if electric bikes exist?’

Checking the time on his watch, he continued to loot the other buildings. There were a few things he took note of, such as clothes and a motorcycle. He went into a few other buildings too, grabbing what he could.

But sadly, there is no radio. He even checked the inside of cars, but some were gone or were destroyed.

And not being able to take the motorcycle, I just opted for the bike for now.

Checking the time once more, he made his way back to his home on the ground. His mind wandered.

‘What am I going to do?’

He peered through the trees as the wind whistled and the sun’s light peaked through.

‘I can’t live long since the bombing happened recently—not long enough to enter the peaceful times of OOO. Marceline must be out there somewhere, and... Simon, or, I should say, the ice king maybe I can help her,” he muttered.

He wasn’t a super-dedicated fan of the series but he was a good fan who knew enough of the world’s history and all that occurred before as the most recent addition to the universe, Fiona and Cake, in which the Ice King’s madness was transferred to Bubblegum due to marcelines wish.

‘Of course, it didn’t turn out for the best, but it does give me an idea.’

An idea that could not be executed because of the only glaring issue was that he was a mortal human. He’d be lucky to make it 100 years before any real change to the world would occur.

But why do this? Why bother to help someone he didn’t know? Was it the attachment he had to the show?

Or maybe the fact that his reincarnation confirms the fact that none of this is real and the universe is but a dream conjured by an unfathomable cosmic entity and it wouldn’t matter what he did.

Or the heroic mindset that he developed during his time as a firefighter. Who could say? if he can make life better for others, why shouldn’t he?

Honestly, he had no answer; he was as confused as a newborn baby, about his place in this world, but knowing the pain of loss, if he could have someone avoid that pain and heal from it, then why not at least try?

With resolutions, he descended back into the basement. Placing the generator down, he plugged in a lamp, illuminating the space.

‘I’d like to explore the world and help if I can, but with monsters, the lich, and vampires moving around, god knows what magic beings will start pouring into the world now.’

He chuckled at the thought of adventuring, if he wanted to do the things he set his mind to, then he’d have no choice.

The only way to ensure he could do those things was with one item, one valuable piece of literature he’d need to make it all possible: the Enchiridion.

This was going to be a long journey. A painful one, but ultimately the adventure of a lifetime.