Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.

Warnings: Death. Violence. Language.

Beta: Still searching for someone willing...

Ultranumb

I. Death

My heart pounded loudly in my chest, my eyes were watery and stinging because I had yet to blink, too frozen by fear. I was ready to pass out or collapse from shock and fear, but the tight hold on my arm prevented me from doing so, so I stood.

The cold, hard metal surfaced pressed against the back of my head as the holder of the gun yelled something to the shopkeepers. If I wasn't scared shitless, I would've asked why they insisted on robbing a store in the middle of the mall, where everyone could see the crime taking place.

As it was, I refrained from speaking, too terrified.

Just my luck to end up as a hostage.

I just hoped the guy would keep his promise and let me live once he got his money. I didn't want to die because of one man's greed, I still had a lot to live for and many more goals to accomplish.

Funny, I thought, trying to distract myself with other thoughts. I had never given much thought about what I wanted to do; I was quite content with slacking off at home, goofing off with my friends and stuff.

I was just here to get my friend a birthday present.

I wasn't here to die.

But, if you don't even have an ambition in the first place, what's so sorry?

I growled, but instantly silenced myself when the man glared at me, his grip tightening and the gun pressed harder onto my scalp.

It would blow my brains into mush, at such close proximity, I don't think he'd miss and the wound wouldn't be fatal. It would be a miracle if my corpse was in tact after this, much less my life.

I was no expert on guns and I didn't like those things my brother liked to play with, but I figured it was a shotgun (blind guess) and I paled even further.

Shotguns... like those that could fire multiple bullets at a time? Or is it another type?

It didn't matter how many bullets it could shoot with one press, even one bullet would be more than enough to blast my brains into bits.

I whimpered.

"Shut up," the man hissed. He turned to his accomplice who barked for the shopkeeper to hurry up.

Much to my horror, the shopkeeper passed out in fear. The other workers didn't move to pick up the other guy's work. My captor growled.

Then, to my increasing horror, some idiot triggered the alarm, making the robbers panic.

I jerked, ready to run but the man pulled me back. I was pretty sure I screamed.

"You'll be the first, brat," the man growled. "It's time to show them we mean business."

I trembled, my vision suddenly blurry and I wondered if it was because of the tears. "If it's any consolation, kid, I'll make this quick."

I refrained from laughing; death was swift, what sort of crap was he spouting?

I didn't hear the gunshot.

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The world was blurry and sluggish when I came to. I blinked rapidly, groaning in pain and discomfort—my left eye throbbed painfully and I wondered why before I recalled that I had been shot in the eye.

Could I be alive?

My eyes snapped open. My hand shooting up to touch my face, to make sure it was intact.

Even after a gunshot to the face? Point blank?

Well, seeing as I was thinking and breathing fine, I figured that I wasn't doing all that bad.

Wait.

I couldn't see, not through my left eye. I was stumped, feeling as if I'd been stabbed (okay, that was a terrible comparison considering what I've been through). But... losing an eye was better than losing my life, right?

It did nothing to console me.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, hand clutching the left portion of my face. I wanted a mirror now; my narcissistic side had risen and I had to make sure that my face wasn't too terrible.

First things first though, ring the nurse, I told myself and just as I turned, I blinked, taken aback by the sight before me. Sounds, loud and lively, blared right in my face.

Moments ago, I swear I was in a white-filled atmosphere (a hospital, probably), now I was in a world filled with the lively scenery of an unfamiliar scenery.

I struggled to my feet, surprised to find that I could move fine, albeit my limbs were a little stiff. I reached to touch my left eye, trying to close my left eyelid, but was surprised to find hard surface where my left eyeball was supposed to be. I couldn't see anything through that eye and it was still throbbing in mild discomfort; my stomach churned at the thought of the bullet still embedded in my eye.

I decided to look into a clear surface later.

First: find out where I am.

I was supposed to be in a hospital and I doubted the ambulance would've dumped here: in the middle of nowhere.

I inhaled deeply, trying to gain fresh air but gagged when I smelt the polluted air in the environment. Disgusting, I thought, shaking my head as I avoided running into a man.

What were the government of this place doing?

Which country was this actually?

I glanced back at the train station I had stepped out from. I backtracked, scouring the area for a sign. I stumbled when I stepped on someone.

I glanced down. "Sorry—" My voice died when the person raised his head. I blinked rapidly, rubbing my working eye to make sure I was not dreaming. "You're...?"

"Do I know you?"

I frowned. "Not really," I mumbled, stepping away from the cosplayer. I did a once-over of the place, turning 360-degree multiple times to compensate the loss of the left eye's vision and even after I pinched my arm countless times, I didn't wake up. Not a single speck of the scenery of Midgar had changed.

Midgar, the Metropolis of Dreams—a city that existed only in a game that I could barely remember anymore.

How could this be possible?

I was dying (possible, dead) moments ago and now, I'm in another world.

I laughed.

I'm losing it.

I rubbed the tear forming in my right eye, trying to stop laughing like a lunatic because I was drawing more than one odd stare.

My laughter turned into a choked sob as I crouched.

I'm dead.

(no other way to be here)

"Why... are you laughing one second... and crying the next?"

I glanced up, raising a blurry vision to the blonde man who still had a dazed look in his eyes, as if he was unable to discern what he was seeing; I wondered if he had suffered brain injury too or he was in the same boat as I was: dead, a new soul in this strange afterlife.

"Just... sad that I'd died."

There was a long, long pause; something flickered in his bright blue eyes before dying. "Oh," he said. "...I'm... dead?"

"Why else would be in this illusion, not-real, world?"

"Unreal world?" The man echoed suspiciously, confused. "Where are we?"

"Midgar."

Something in the Cloud-look-alike's eyes cleared. "Then I've reached my destination." He grimaced as he used his sword, trying to support himself into a standing position. He didn't ask for help but seeing as we were fellow newbie souls, I sprang to my feet and helped him up.

He stumbled, leaning onto me for support before he regained his footing.

I glanced at him sympathetically even though my own condition was no better than he was: we were both dead, as if there was anything nice.

I glanced about the city. I recalled being obsessed with this game when I was younger, but seeing as my memory wasn't all that good, I'd pretty much forgotten the layout and maps of the game. I guessed this was how my mind was trying to comfort me: allowing me to walk about in my dreamworld before I was assigned to heaven or hell.

"Do you know the way around?" I asked my temporary companion who was still staring at everything in stupor.

He glanced at me, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Who are you again? I don't think I've heard your name."

I frowned. "Does it really matter in this place, in this world?"

He was frowning now too, but not in dissatisfaction, but in a thoughtful way. "...No."

In silence, we stepped into the bustling streets of Midgar. Neither of us turned our head, and had we lingered a moment later, we would've caught the sight of a dark-haired woman with the build of a fighter, stepping out of the train, a frown on her face as she too, joined the crowd.

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Question: Your thoughts?