As Finn trudged into town, the wooden planks beneath his feet creaked like they were one wrong step away from total collapse.
The buildings—if you could even call them that—didn't look built so much as vomited out of the swamp out of spite. Each structure leaned in a different direction, like they were mid-fall in a permanent game of drunk Jenga. Their walls were made of warped, soggy planks that squished when slapped—yes, slapped—and were held together with mold, prayer, and whatever sticky substance the swamp coughed up that morning.
The place looked like a toddler built it out of literal dog shit and disappointment.
Most roofs were slanted or completely caved in, like wet cardboard after a thunderstorm. Some were patched up with lily pads, old tarp scraps, or just piles of moss that had squatter's rights. The chimneys burped out smoke that smelled suspiciously like boiled frog and wet burlap underwear.
Finn and Majestria exchanged looks. The kind of look that said we could turn around right now and forget this ever happened.
But then—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps.
Finn turned, nearly dropping Majestria, just in time to see a local waddling up to them—a hunched, toothless old man in a crooked hat who smelled like a wet dog left in a microwave.
"You folks must be new 'round these parts," he wheezed.
'Of course he sounds country…'
The old man squinted at them, eyes darting up and down at the pathetic sight of Finn carrying Majestria like a broken princess.
"You don't look too good," he said. "Y'all best go see the Doc."
Finn blinked. "Wait… a doctor? In this hellhole?"
The man nodded with pride. "Yessir. Best damn doctor in all of Moistvile."
Majestria perked up with a hopeful sigh. "Finally. Something normal for once."
The man grinned. One tooth gleamed. Just one. A single, heroic gold tooth.
"Yup. Doc Piss'll fix ya right up."
"…Wait. What."
Majestria tapped Finn's head. "Come on! Let's go. He can fix everything."
The old man pointed a wobbly finger toward the most grotesque building in the village. It sagged like a haunted port-a-potty with shingles.
"He's right down there. Y'all have fun now." He cackled like a dying goat and waddled away.
Finn stood there, hollow inside.
'Please… please let this be normal. Just this once.'
Soon, Finn began making his way toward the building—hesitantly, like a man walking into a trap he knew was a trap but still had to go through with it.
Standing before the door, he noticed some weird goo dripping down from the doorknob. Thick. Slimy. Yellowish.
His hand hovered above it, trembling. He was not ready to touch interdimensional snot.
That is—until Majestria smacked him in the back of the head. "Stop stalling and open it! I'm tired of waiting!"
"Okay, okay!" he grumbled.
Finn reluctantly grabbed the knob. It let out a squishy shlorp—like wet mac and cheese—making his stomach churn instantly.
He pushed the door open with a grimace and stepped inside quickly, accidentally whacking Majestria's forehead on the top of the doorframe as he went.
THUNK.
"You piece of—!"
She raised her hand to smack him—again—but stopped, eyes widening.
Finn froze, too.
The inside of the building looked… normal. Like, actually normal. Like earth normal.
Blue carpet. White walls. Fluorescent light overhead. Plastic blue chairs arranged in a neat row around a little coffee table stacked with magazines. A simple receptionist desk stood at the far end, manned by a bored-looking woman flipping through a clipboard.
Finn blinked.
Majestria blinked.
"…The hell?" Finn muttered.
Nothing about this made sense. The outside looked like a fungal porta-potty, but inside was cleaner than a CVS waiting room. It defied all logic. All physics. All narrative consistency.
'This has to be a fever dream,' Finn thought. 'God, I hope it is…'
"You can put me down now," Majestria said, her voice now back to regal mode. "This room is clean enough for my divine feet."
"Finally," Finn grunted, crouching down.
She hopped off him gracefully, planting her feet on the blue carpet like she was stepping onto a cloud. "Ahh. Much better."
Then they noticed her.
At the receptionist desk, a woman sat silently. Pale, plain, and wearing a mint-green uniform. Her eyes locked onto them.
She didn't smile. She didn't blink.
She just said:
"…Do you have an appointment with the Doctor?"
"Uh, no. We just arrived here, but we'd like to make an appointment…"
"Actually," Majestria cut in, her voice full of regal entitlement, "I'll go first. I'm clearly in more pain."
The receptionist didn't even blink. "Okay. He'll be with you soon," she said in the flattest voice possible—like her soul had clocked out years ago.
Finn quietly took a seat, placing his hands awkwardly in his lap, nerves rising like he was waiting at the DMV of doom. Majestria, of course, sat one chair away like she was allergic to being seen near him. She crossed her legs with elegance, leaning back as if she owned the place.
She let out a relaxed sigh. "This is much better. Though, my palace was obviously superior."
"I'm sure it was…" Finn muttered.
BANG.
One of the doors near the desk burst open—and a teenage girl sprinted out, dressed straight out of a rom-com. She was covering her face, sobbing, and clearly emotionally damaged by whatever the hell just happened.
'What—what the actual f*ck is going on?!'
Finn's brain short-circuited. He was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown. This place. This world. This entire goddamn isekai.
His thoughts spiraled like a fried graphics card trying to load 47 Skyrim sex mods at once.
Then—
Another figure stepped through the same door.
A man. Wearing a white doctor's coat. Glasses. Spotless hands. Clean, professional… normal.
Too normal.
He looked like one of those guys on a hospital billboard giving a thumbs-up next to the words "Your Health, Our Priority!"
He smiled gently. "So—who's next?"
Majestria immediately stood, placing her hand over her chest like she was about to sing the national anthem. "Me! I shall go first. I am clearly in more pain, and I am—"
The doctor walked straight past her.
She complained.
He stopped in front of Finn.
Took his hand.
And smiled warmly. "I'll be taking you first. You look like you've been through hell."
Finn's lip quivered. His soul briefly left his body. "T-Thank you…" he whispered, voice cracking like an anime protagonist getting noticed by his crush. "T-thank you so much…"
The doctor nodded. "Of course."
Still smiling. Still way too normal.
And then… he gently led Finn through the door.