What if the orcs and goblins were right?
A character-driven fantasy about grief, memory, and rebellion begins.
Welcome to The Pilgrim’s Journey—a character-driven multiverse fantasy told from the side of the monsters.
Jason Navarro didn’t ask to be a hero. He didn’t ask to be dragged into a world on the edge of extinction, where orcs and goblins are hunted and forgotten, and humans, elves, and dwarves rule by cruelty and silence. But something ancient chose him. And whether he wants it or not, he’s become a Pilgrim—something more than human.
This is a story about grief, memory, and rebellion. About a man pulled from one world into another, forced to decide who he’s willing to fight for—and what kind of monster he’s willing to become.
I write this story with the help of AI tools, but the vision, the voice, and the fire behind it are mine. If you care about resistance, slow-burn worldbuilding, and fantasy that flips the map—you're in the right place.
Let’s begin.
Chapter 1: The End of Nothing
Jason Navarro was in stasis. Not literally—his body functioned, his lungs worked, he went through the motions. Wake up. Clock in. Scroll through outrage. Pass out on the same dented couch. But it wasn't living.
He looked like someone halfway through disappearing. Six feet of ex-athlete gone soft—broad shoulders carrying 280 pounds that settled everywhere and nowhere, just enough gut to strain his faded shirt. Three-day-old jeans. Hair he'd stopped styling. The faint smell of old takeout. Not a disaster at first glance, but getting there.
He wore the same jeans and plain gray t-shirt he’d put on two days ago. A ketchup stain had dried near the hem. Something darker near the collar might’ve been coffee. He hadn’t bothered to check.
He used to fill notebooks with stories of warriors and heroes. Now? Forty-two, divorced, and tonight, like most nights, he was doing what he did best. Nothing.
Jason slouched on the couch, remote in one hand, a half-empty bag of chips in the other. The glow of the TV flickered over his cluttered living room—takeout boxes, unopened mail, coffee stains on a table that hadn’t seen coffee in weeks. Somewhere outside, the world was still moving. People were laughing in bars, making mistakes, living their lives.
Jason barely noticed. The noise, the movement—it didn’t matter anymore.
He used to want more. More than reruns and frozen dinners, more than empty rooms and silence. But somewhere along the way, "more" had turned into "just enough." And now? He wasn’t even sure he had that.
A fitness app commercial blared onto the screen, some overly enthusiastic guy yelling about grinding, pushing, never giving up. Jason snorted and stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth. Yeah, that’ll happen.
Jason’s phone buzzed gently, illuminating the cracked coffee table.
Calendar Reminder: "Anniversary Dinner Reservation @ 7:00 PM."
His heart sank. It wasn't real—just a cruel leftover from a life he’d forgotten to erase completely. He hadn't seen Emily in two years. Hadn't spoken to her in nearly as long. She’d moved on. He hadn't.
Memories flooded back, unwanted. Her laughter. Her fingers intertwined with his. The casual way she leaned against him just because she could. How long had it been since someone touched him like he mattered? How long since he'd felt anything real at all?
Jason’s throat tightened, loneliness twisting into something raw, consuming. His eyes burned, a lifetime of emptiness pressing down until he couldn't breathe.
Jason’s chest tightened, loneliness closing in like a physical weight. Something inside him fractured, a painful but silent break—a desperate longing for something, anything, beyond this empty existence.
He stood frozen in that emptiness, heart racing, unsure if he’d ever breathe freely again.
The vibration of his phone cut through the silence—short, sharp, urgent.
Jason ignored it at first. Some crisis somewhere. There was always a crisis.
But the second buzz followed.
And a third.
He frowned and grabbed his phone.
EMERGENCY ALERT: UNEXPLAINED ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCE DETECTED.
Okay. That was new.
He tapped the alert. The details were vague—scientists baffled by sudden geomagnetic shifts, unexplained distortions appearing in multiple locations across the country. Jason scrolled down, but the article was frustratingly light on specifics. No warnings. No instructions. Just uncertainty.
Jason tossed his phone onto the couch. Just another apocalypse on a Wednesday.
He hauled himself up and wandered towards the kitchen, yawning as he opened the fridge. Stared blankly at its contents. Leftover lo mein. A single beer. Something that might have been cheese at one point.
His stomach rumbled, but nothing looked appealing.
Instead, he leaned against the counter and looked outside.
And froze.
The air wasn’t right.
A shimmer wavered across the distant skyline—like heat ripples on pavement. But the night was cool.
Jason blinked. The shimmer didn’t disappear. It pulsed, a ripple of colors that didn’t exist, flickering through shades that had no name. His vision swam if he stared too long.
Something primal coiled in his gut—his body recognizing danger before his mind caught up.
Then his phone buzzed again.
Jason glanced at the screen. The same emergency alert—only now, the wording had changed.
EMERGENCY ALERT: SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.
His pulse quickened. The lights flickered. A low hum vibrated through the air, so deep it rattled his teeth. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It surrounded him—inside the walls, beneath his skin, pressing into his skull.
Something inside Jason ignited, a tiny spark blossoming outward from the center of his chest—a flare of warmth, power, and yearning he’d never known was there. It wasn’t fear that fueled it. It was the aching, desperate need to matter again. He felt it surge, reaching desperately toward something beyond himself. And as it pushed, something else pulled, responding in kind, irresistibly drawing him toward the unknown.
Jason took a step back, and the world lurched.
His apartment wavered, the walls turning translucent, the floor dissolving beneath him.
Not his kitchen. Not his world.
A swirling, endless void.
Black, but not empty. Moving. Alive. Waiting.
Jason inhaled sharply—
And then—
Reality shattered.
Jason was falling. Not plummeting, not tumbling—just drifting. This was slower. Directionless. Like gravity had forgotten him and he was drifting through space. There was no wind, no up or down—just motion. A slow, aimless drift through a void that wasn't empty at all.
The blackness moved. It pulsed, rippled, shifting between deep blues, violent purples, and flickering reds. At times, it looked like storm clouds, thick and billowing. Other times, it was like ink in water, curling and stretching into infinite shapes.
And somewhere within it—
The whispers found him.
Soft. Distant. But not far enough. They knew him.
Words without sound, language without meaning, curling behind his eyes, threading through his bones.
Jason turned—or at least, he tried to. His body wasn’t responding the way it should. There was no ground. No weight. He was here, but also… not.
The whispers grew louder. Not words. Not yet. But they meant something. They wove around his thoughts, seeping into the space behind his eyes. Familiar, but impossible. Like something he should know, but couldn’t quite grasp.
He tried to focus on the whispers—who’s talking? What are they saying?
A flash of something—
A figure wrapped in flame, stepping through a rift of swirling sand.
A warrior standing alone in the ruins of a city carved from bone.
A battlefield, swords clashing beneath a sky split in half.
Jason jerked back, or at least, the idea of jerking back. His body still wasn’t real. Or was it?
The images faded. Had he seen them before?
Another whisper slithered through the dark. This time, it formed words.
You were never meant to be.
A chill ran down Jason’spine “What—” His voice came out distorted, stretched, like it was being spoken across a vast canyon. “What does that mean?”
A pause, gentle yet unyielding.
Yet here you are. Chosen, waiting. When your Spark ignited, the call was answered. For the first time, a guiding hand was extended toward a world that could not reach out alone.
The whisper wasn’t just sound. It was inside him, weaving through his mind, his bones, his very existence. Jason shuddered. Something was watching him.
No eyes. No form. Just… awareness.
The colors in the void shifted erratically, like a heartbeat out of sync. Reacting to him.
Jason swallowed. “Where—Where am I?”
The response came, not in words, but in understanding.
The Nexus.
The name settled into his mind, solid and undeniable, even though he had never heard it before. A space between spaces. A threshold. A resting place. A waiting room for those who could do the impossible.
Jason exhaled sharply. “That’s not an answer.”
Another whisper. It is the only answer.
Jason shook his head. “No, no, this is—this isn’t real.” He wasn’t dreaming. It didn’t feel like a dream. He wanted to deny it, but the ache in his chest—the undeniable pull of recognition—wouldn’t let him. But if this wasn’t a dream, if this wasn’t death, then what the hell was happening to him?
Confusion wrapped around him like a thick fog. His thoughts felt stretched, disjointed, unraveling as he tried to make sense of where he was, what he was hearing, what he was feeling.
And then—something in his chest ached.
Not pain. No, this was different.
Not fear—he was plenty scared—but something deeper.
Like a pull.
Like a memory of something just out of reach.
Suddenly, he felt it.
Recognition.
A slow, creeping sense that this place wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. That he had been here—no. Not here, but somewhere like it.
But that didn’t make sense.
He had never—
The colors around him twisted, folding inward. The void collapsed and expanded at the same time, like it couldn’t decide what shape it wanted to be.
And then—he felt something.
Not voices. Not images. Something else.
A phantom sensation—fleeting but undeniable.
A sword in his grip—except there was no sword.
Cold air against his face—but his skin felt nothing.
The weight of a book in his hands—but his fingers were empty.
Jason’s breath hitched. His pulse slowed.
None of this was real.
And yet, it was.
The Nexus was showing him something—but what?
The whispers shifted, twisting into something deeper, more layered.
You will return. And you will learn.
You will walk until you understand.
This is only the beginning.
You will go. Whether you are ready or not.
Jason shut his eyes so tight that it almost hurt. It didn’t help. The void was inside him now, pressing into his thoughts like something peeling him apart, thread by thread.
Then—silence.
For a single breath, everything held still.
And then—
The Nexus collapsed.
Jason was dragged downward, the darkness contracting around him. He fought, but there was nothing to fight. No ground, no air, no walls.
Just pulling, pulling, pulling—
Jason’s head throbbed. His vision blurred, darkness creeping at the edges. He felt himself slipping, falling—not just physically, but deeper. Into something cold.
He tried to hold on. But there was nothing left to hold.
The last thing he heard before the void swallowed him whole was the whisper of something ancient.
You will become more than you are.
🐺 Thanks for reading. If this spoke to you, follow for more chapters, lore drops, and behind-the-scenes insights.
The war is just beginning. The map doesn’t end here.