Lyra (18, Human): Isekai'd naked

Chapter 1: The Unwelcome Arrival

The first thing she registered was the scratch of dried leaves against her back.

The second was the smell---earth and dust and something faintly sweet, like overripe fruit left to rot in the sun. The third, arriving in a dizzying cascade that made her stomach lurch, was the absolute wrongness of everything.

Lyra's eyes snapped open.

Above her, a sky of impossible blue stretched between the stalks of towering green plants. Corn. She was lying in a cornfield, but not like any cornfield she'd ever seen back home. These stalks rose twelve feet high, their leaves broad as swords, their ears thick and heavy with golden kernels that caught the afternoon light.

Back home.

The thought sent a spike of cold terror through her chest. She tried to sit up, and the motion sent a cascade of sensations screaming through her nerves---the rough texture of dead leaves beneath her palms, the warmth of sun on her skin, the tickle of a stray strand of hair against her shoulder, the way the air moved everywhere across her body because---

She looked down.

And froze.

There was no fabric. No cotton, no polyester, no soft worn-in jeans or the familiar embrace of her favorite band t-shirt. There was only skin---pale and exposed and utterly, mortifyingly naked. Her breasts hung free, swaying slightly with the tremor that ran through her frame. The curve of her stomach, the dip of her navel, the swell of her hips, the dark triangle of hair between her thighs---all of it was on display for no one but the sky and the corn and whatever gods might be watching.

"What---"

Her voice came out as a croak, raw and frightened. She scrambled to her knees, wrapping her arms across her chest, pressing her thighs together in a desperate attempt to cover herself. The motion was futile. Her hands could only hide so much. The cool air kissed the curve of her back, the cheeks of her bare ass, the sensitive inner flesh of her thighs.

"No no no no no---"

Her mind raced, grasping for explanations. Had she been mugged? Drugged? Had there been a fire? She remembered---what did she remember? She'd been walking home from the convenience store, a bag of chips in one hand, her phone in the other. It had been evening, the streetlights just beginning to flicker on. She'd been thinking about tomorrow's exam, about whether she'd studied enough, about the text she needed to send to---

And then there had been light.

A flash of something purple and gold and impossibly bright, tearing through the fabric of reality like a knife through wet paper. A sound like a million bells ringing at once. A sensation of falling, of unraveling, of being pulled apart and put back together in a shape that was almost but not quite right.

And then: corn. And sky. And the horrible, humiliating truth of her own bare flesh.

"Okay," Lyra whispered to herself, her voice shaking. "Okay. Okay. Think. Think."

She forced herself to take a breath, then another. The air was warm, almost hot, and it carried the scent of soil and growing things. The cornfield stretched in every direction, a golden-green maze that offered no clues about where she was or how she'd gotten here.

She was in a field. Naked. In what looked like the middle of nowhere.

Priorities, she told herself. First: find cover. Second: find clothes. Third: figure out what the hell happened.

She rose to her feet, keeping one arm pressed across her chest, the other hand cupped awkwardly over her groin. The pose was uncomfortable and impractical, but the alternative---letting it all hang free while she wandered through an alien landscape---was simply unthinkable.

The cornstalks rustled as she pushed through them, their leaves brushing against her shoulders, her hips, the sensitive curve of her waist. Each touch made her flinch. She felt like a raw nerve, every sensation amplified by the knowledge of her own vulnerability.

After what felt like an eternity of pushing through the dense growth, she saw it: a break in the field. A dirt road, rutted and dusty, winding its way between fields of corn and what looked like wheat. And beyond that---

Her breath caught.

A village. Small, compact, built of stone and timber and thatch. Smoke rose from chimneys. Figures moved in the streets. She could hear, faintly, the sounds of life---a dog barking, a child laughing, the ring of a hammer on an anvil.

People.

Lyra's heart hammered against her ribs. She ducked back into the corn, her mind racing. She couldn't walk into a village like this. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. The humiliation would be---

But what choice did she have? She needed clothes. She needed answers. She needed to find out where she was and how to get home.

She peered through the gap in the stalks, studying the village. It looked... medieval. That was the only word for it. Low stone buildings with thatched roofs, a dirt main street, people in rough-spun tunics and dresses. No cars. No power lines. No signs of modern civilization whatsoever.

Oh god, she thought. Oh god, please tell me I didn't get isekai'd.

The thought was almost funny, in a dark, hysterical sort of way. She'd read the stories, watched the shows. An ordinary person gets transported to a fantasy world, gains incredible powers, and goes on epic adventures. But in those stories, the protagonist usually got some kind of help. A friendly guide. A convenient set of clothes. A goddess who at least had the decency to apologize.

Lyra had none of those things. She had corn. And dirt. And the growing certainty that she was completely, utterly fucked.