AN- So where do we get started. Edited first chapter, final draft. Check bio to keep up to date.

Vice Hero

Arc 1 - Welcome to Midgar

Chapter 1 - Transposed Troubles

͉̝I̶̛̤̗̖̱̺t̻͕̰͓͚̦̻'̴̱̤͙̦͕͘͝s̵̨̗̹̣̱ ̯̫̟t̳̟͔̳̱̹i̭̱̣͉̟̞̯̦͞͝ͅm̴͏͙̱̰̣͎̰͇e̠̟̠̱̰ ́͠҉̻̦͚͍f̨͖̪͇̗̩͜o͏͔̳r̶̵͎̬̹̥̱̠ ̼̞͎͖͚͚̕y̵̩͓o̟̭͝ṵͅͅ ͎̩̝͎͓̺ţ̛͇̥̲̠͘ǫ͇̯̗͓̦̬̻̫͘ ͎̹̦͍̟͈̭́͠w̧̤͎̻̼ạ̢͓̙̬ķ̫̯̼͝e̦̳̰͎̬̗͉ͅ ̶̺̩̫͎͙̻͚͕v̴̩̯̻͔̰̯̘̀e͍̹͘̕ś̡͍̗̻͚s̵̝̤̫e̸̜͇̕l̯̺̗̹̼̗̗͎͝͡ͅ

My eyes snapped open, lazily scanning the foggy room for the owner of the strange sounding voice. The disorientation from just waking combined with lack of glasses made it impossible to make sense of the blurry surroundings. It was also surprisingly difficult to fight off the drowsiness that seemed to pervade my mind.

Confusingly, my thoughts began drifting back towards the voice that woke me. Specifically on what about it was so strange. It was hard to get it out of my head since it sounded so distinct, almost as if it was lingering. The voice had the unique property of blending authority with familiarity while also sounding noticeably foreign, but there was something strange about it that I couldn't place.

I idly wondered just how it had woken me up when I was asleep moments ago. Usually, something like a voice couldn't wake me up until I was fully rested. Usually, it took something big and exceptionally loud to wake me. It seemed that this time was different. I wanted to find who woke me, congratulate them on accomplishing the impossible, and then tell them to never do it again.

But now that I looked, it seemed that nobody was around me. 'Who woke me up then?' A frown formed as I began trying to puzzle out what was happening through sluggish thoughts.

I had just woken up. That much was obvious, but there was something else, something even more obvious that I was missing. It was as if I'd forgotten something important—though I couldn't say what for the life of me—and that singular feeling put off all notions of me going back to sleep, at least until I figured this puzzle out.

I looked over everything that I could see again but with a more critical eye this time. I quickly noticed strobing red lights at the bottom of a door leaking in. Worry and apprehension started to flare up. How had I missed that the first time? Blinking red lights were never a good sign. The nagging feeling of missing something important hadn't gone away though, and at this moment I trusted my gut more than my groggy mind.

'Alright, so just what's going on here?' The thought felt murky, just like the rest of me. I blinked forcefully several times in an effort to clear the mental cobwebs only to have nothing change.

Not able to piece together a coherent answer to my own question, I checked my hazy surroundings again. I was still all alone save for a few blurry objects and red lights. 'No way that I imagined that voice though.'

Now that I thought about the voice again, it was almost as if I could hear it. Almost like a distant echo, but mentally. 'Something about waking up…' A thought tickled at the edge of my mind, and then the answer suddenly came to me. 'Oh, It's time for you to wake.' I jolted as an alien sensation crawled over me.

The words began repeating over and over in my head, waking me in some supernatural and deeply unsettling way. Drowsiness and worry were shunted away in favor of the command wake, forcing me into a hazy and blissful trance.

I became distantly aware of myself, but in that moment I was too focused on the foreign feeling that was coursing through me to worry. It was like the best aspects of sex, coffee, and drugs blended together. I ignored the screaming voice in the back of my mind telling me that something was very wrong. The feeling was similar to a ludicrously powerful upper, supplying me with unnatural and artificial energy.

I realized something in that instance—I was alive in an inexplicable way that I hadn't been before. I lost myself briefly, having no thoughts other than how much I enjoyed the feeling, but then a strange sense of wrong imposed itself over the filter—dragging me out of my trance and sobering me up.

As I came down from the strange high, the first thing I realized was that I was scared shitless and shaking in fear. Any trace of the energy vanished as a dawning horror gripped me. The ecstasy left as quickly as terror came, sobering me up and putting me on edge.

'What the fuck was that?' No answer was forthcoming. I wasn't quite sure how I would feel if something did answer back. The near religious experience was making me question what was real and what wasn't.

I was fully awake now, at least.

I waited several minutes in anticipation, replaying the short-lived experience over and over in my mind. It didn't help that the sudden shift from bliss to wrong left me feeling drained and unbalanced. The abrupt change made being conscious uncomfortable, allowed paranoia to set in, and had me feeling awkward in my own skin.

I paused, still disorientated from the experience, and idly noticed that the fogginess of my vision still hadn't cleared. I tried to adjust my body, but was met by a general feeling of numb. I took a calming breath, feeling the shaking subside momentarily, and then tried to move again—receiving the same result as last time.

All sense of calm left me. I hated feeling stuck and helpless. Panic settled in deep.

I tried to scramble, flail, twitch, and adjust all at the same time—anything to get the blood flowing and me moving again. I became consumed with the desire to get out, straining to move anything other than my face. Nothing happened, absolutely no movement at all. I couldn't move my body from the neck down in the slightest.

After several minutes of panic I calmed down. Several seconds of frantic searching made me realize two very unsettling things.

The first: I didn't recognize my surroundings. The room seemed innocent enough as I took it in—white room, tiled floors, and a desk in the corner gave the feeling of a sterile and professional environment. 'So most likely a hospital or something along the line. Maybe this is some kind of accident or bad trip then. It has to be.' I hopefully thought.

I released a shaky breath in an attempt to calm my frayed nerves. My breath sounded hollow and strange because of the other realization—something that I should've noticed much, much earlier.

The second realization: I was floating submerged up to my neck in numbing liquid inside of a capsule. The fact that I woke up in a position other than lying down should've set off more alarms. I slept like a horse and hadn't realized upon waking.

The capsule I was in explained my foggy surroundings. I was looking through thick glass and the liquid was inhibiting my ability to feel or move for some medical reason, giving more credit to the bad accident theory. 'Just what happened to me?' The question seemed to rebound itself in my head, not unlike the voice. It made me irrationally angry not knowing what was going on. I couldn't help but want to know what the hell was happening to me.

Though angry at myself for not realizing more upon waking, I felt marginally better after piecing together some of what was going on. No relief came from the better understanding of my predicament like I expected—the feeling of wrong and missing something still hadn't disappeared.

T̸̸̼̰̞̞̘͢h͓͉͖̫͙̲̼̥e̠͚͖̣ ̩̹͓́͜m̬͚̜͖a̷̵̺̘̜͚̣ǹ̗̖̯̼̻̠̥͔͜t̢͈͙͙͉̥͖̱͇̪l̸̷̯̖̣̱̤̙̙ͅe̙̝̣̜ ̢̡̳͇̪̀ò̭̖̰̝͈̘̻͕f̴͙̭̻̭̤̲͓͟ͅ ̭̦͈̻̬h̦̤̳͈̬͎̪e̵҉̫̻͚͖r̡͓̬̣̼o̧̩̫̫̺̫ ͉h̡͙̙̹͕̫̼͝ͅa̷̧̙̖̞͇̹̥͔͞s̵̡̢͎̦͕ ͏̼̯̞̱̠b̢̗̝̝̳͍͇e̦̭̭̫͈͝ͅc̵̵͈͍̩͜o̸̩͇͜m̵̪̣e̗̹̟̜̲͙͔͜ ͟͝҉͓͉͖͕ṵ̻̜͍̰̝͔n̢̰͚̞̙͓̘̺͈͉c҉͎̙̜̤̞̝̖̩̣͞l̛͍̠̖̤͇̰̮a̜̖͎͡i̟͙̱̤̲̻̫͡m̷͟͏̜͕̖̪̗̫̯̻̱e̹̫͖̬d̵̥͉̼͚͚̩͘ ̶̨̮̘̜w̢͍̯̣͇̹͓̞̗̘i͉͜͢t̝̠͖̬̙͍ͅh̞̭̰͈͖̮̳̙͙ ̧̞͕̺t̵̸̮͓͉̪͚̤̯͖̳͢h͎̠̠͎̹͔͢è͔͉͟ ̷̧̳̺͙̖̝̗͖̼̕ḑ̺̞͈̩e̢̫͕a̴̤̟̗̙͙͍t̼̭̯̫̭̀h͕̩̦͙͠ ͞҉̸̙͈͓̣̘̣ͅo̞͘f̷͏̢̭̹̘̱͇͍ ͉͓̥͚ị̷̜̼̺̣̞t̸̶̛̺̪̝̰'͘͏҉̠̰̦̘̘͈̬̙s҉̸̱̲͙ͅ ̝̙̦̦͠͠h̡̲̱̖̭͖͚̙̗̟͢o̴̰̜̺̳̣͚͝l͓̰̕d̫̬͚̥͙͎̀͜e̙̘̫̮͜r̵̡͎̗͈̭̲̭̱̕

I froze, then thought over the new information. 'Okay, the same angelic voice, in my head, that seems to be just sitting there. Nothing strange about that,' I warily thought, wondering if I was still sane.

Something magical and wrong was happening. It wasn't something mundane like drugs that make me feel magical. On one hand, I was strangely excited. I was being addressed by something powerful enough to send me into ecstasy with words—though it felt more like a mass email more than being personally talked to—and I was excited about the prospect of magic.

With the voice once again ringing in the back of my head came a small compulsion to want, or something similar. Maybe ambition. The want to what, I wasn't sure. After a minute of tense anticipation waiting for another feeling to rush through me, the voice slowly faded away—confirming that magic was in play.

Though the voice had manifested itself in my head, I still couldn't help but look around for the source. My eyes darted around the distorted room, looking for something to pin the mental intrusion on. I wanted something to blame, something to focus all my frustration on. I was feeling vindictive from the terror and panic of having my emotions tampered with. I figured that if the voice was so powerful, then it didn't need to bother with me. 'Casually messing with biology and thoughts. Playing God. Summoning heroes. I hate the...heavenly sounding woman.'

My blood froze in my veins as I realized what that could signify. Had I been summoned by a God? Was that what caused this fate? Maybe, though the address seemed too impersonal to be directed at just me. 'If she could so easily change something such as feelings and emotion, some of the most intimate parts to a person, then what else could've been changed? What else was edited? What's different with me?' I frantically began to search asI fought down rising panic. 'What's changed?' I took a deep breathand started with the last thing I recalled before waking up. It was the best place to start. The most sensible.

It was strange looking back over the memory—unnaturally vivid and bright. The colors seemed slightly off, almost as if I was looking through a different set of eyes. Already it had me on edge. It didn't even look convincingly real it was so obviously edited.

It was a memory of me staring up into the night sky, watching a distant comet with my father. We both joked that not many things got more manly than stargazing, then focused back on the scene. We settled on sharing the hobby together when we weren't both busy with work. Stargazing was something of a recent pastime—all that information added up, so nothing unusual there. I couldn't quite place what was wrong from a casual recollection of the memory.

'Where was I when that happened?.' I...couldn't remember. Again, it wasn't so strange. I beat down the rising panic. 'Stargazing is something you can do anywhere, nothing to get worried about,' I tried to convince myself. 'Was there something off about the sky?' No, nothing from what I could tell, just the one comet that seemed to constantly catch my eye and call to me. Everything else felt real, if slightly off. 'Was my father really there?' Something was off about that statement. My dad was definitely there, but...but...who was my dad?

Where before my blood froze, it now boiled.

Personal details were missing. That was the conclusion that I came up with looking further and further back. Disgust at whatever brought me here welled up. Some things were completely blank and left as holes in my head. Nothing dear to me was easy to recall. I had a dog but wasn't able to remember what type it was or even the name. A job, but no description came forth.

'What the hell is this? Some lousy attempt to cut all of my ties so I'm more amenable to the voice's whims? All because it wants me to play hero?' I was furious about the prospect of something being in my head, altering memories and telling me what to do. My mouth felt strange, and I offhandedly realized I was tasting blood.

Something had taken my life and control of my body away. There were small fragments left, but they were things I didn't care about. Things such as how I felt during a certain situation or scenario, or my thoughts about a book. I tried to reason out why it would take away my memories, but leave my personality and what made me, me, but I couldn't make sense of it.

Ţ̘̬̪̤̹h̹͍̖̘̞e̵̩͈͘ ̬̙̞̻͎̥ç̷̼̺̩͇̰͘ͅa̟̕͟l̡̜̙l̩͍̪̞͙̪͎͚ ̢̫̖͍̜͙̱̰̤͚ḫ̷̟̪̜̮͚̤͙̀a̴̙̤͍̺̭̰̬̮s̞͓̙̦͉̝͓͇ ̶̤̳̱̮̪̪͙̹͡b̛̲̯̻̼͚̜̹̩͘ḛ̤͝e̴̫͘n̻͚̤̖̤̪ ̡͎̳͚̼̣̞ͅs̗̭͞e̮͈̣̝n̥̯t̵̢̩͕͓̤̝̠̯ ̶̷̶̹͎̝̩̪͖̟o̖̦̙͔̭̣͢͞u̹̤͠t̸̬̦̺̙́

The growing confusion was replaced instantly with surging anger as I heard the voice. The compulsion to come that came with the voice was drowned in my anger.

'Fuck you!' I mentally retorted at the invasive voice, not caring if it could hear me or not. 'You think you can get away with giving me no choice in the matter? You took my life from me. You think you have any right to tell me what to do?' I tried screaming out, to curse whatever had sent me here and denounce it, but my submerged throat couldn't make the correct sounds.

Again, I strained to move. The rage that was there before flared up. I wanted out. The numb sensation that encompassed me gave way to a painful burning in my gut that expanded outward, encompassing my body—then entirely dissipate along with my anger. I half-heartedly cursed, wondering what just happened. Strange things just seemed to keep piling up.

With my anger gone, I was feeling drained and foolish. Some of it returned, but it was a candle's worth to what was before. Now, I just wanted to know what was going on. The liquid that I was in had warmed slightly with the burning, but nothing else happened.

I froze, then paled. Any anger I had quickly gave way to embarrassment. I felt blood rush towards my face. 'Did I just get so angry I pissed myself?'

No answer was forthcoming thankfully.

I was extremely worried about my mental state because of that outbreak. Was I compromised? 'Sure, I have a right to be angry, but how influenced was I?' The fretting began as I took calming breaths. I needed to regain some measure of control before I lost it. All I seemed able to do was scramble to recognize problems.

I didn't like that.

I began trying to understand more. 'I'm usually not one to get angry like this. Has there been anything else that changed along with my memories?' I thought back, trying to piece together what I could through hazy thoughts. 'No,' I realized. From what I could remember, little had changed of my personality.I started to feel slight irritation over the simple fact that I couldn't figure it out instantly. 'Another fact that something weird is going on. I usually prefer to pick at a problem methodically and enjoy the challenge instead of getting frustrated like this. No, something else is going on, something other than the voice speaking to me in my head,' I thought with rising frustration.

It made itself known as it bubbled against me—giving me the answer I needed.

'The liquid.' I grimaced. Something about it was messing with me. I didn't know what, but it was the only answer. I was irrationally angry and sluggish, something that the voice changed.

I̷͈̦̩̬͟ͅt̲̙́͟'̶̨̝̥̞̱̣͎̞̲̺s̲͔̻̫̼͟͞ ̝̩͘͢t̛͉̱͖̠̬͍̳͡i̛͠͏͉͉̻̙͈̩͕̫m̴̥̲̭͚̘̭̳̠͍͞e̝̮ ̲̱̼̬́f̞̦̥̮̭̘̣̪̖ǫ̤͖͞r̢̳͖̹̲͓̻ ̦̥͕̲͕̟͝y̻͉̦̱͚̗̞̹o̠͈̤̲͢ͅͅu̵̷̡̩̭͖͎̣̹͔̗ ̢̢̦̥̥͕͇͍̥͘t̵̸̘̬͍̼o̖̳̰̖͝͝ͅ ̳̝̹͢͟p̨̛̠͎͕̙r̦̠̬͔̕o̵̗̗͔̼̟̟͎v̶͏͇͇e̬̲͇̩͕̯̱ ҉̨͎̺͈͔̳̮y̴̧͎̰̙o͚̞̜̰ų̳̫͉̞r̘̼̥͍̥̮̞̙͎ ͚͕̙̭̤́ẃ̢͈̬̥̩̫̮̼̻ó͖͇̰̺͈͘r̝̠ṱ̰̞͕̳̻͘ḩ̶̹̭̟͔͈̠̭

This time, I suppressed both the anger that washed over me along with the overwhelming compulsion to prove.

Shattering could be heard in the background. It caught my attention, but there was nothing that I could do about it but worry, so I put it aside. I centered myself until the voice fully faded from my mind. 'What had it said so far?' What could I learn from the situation? What was the motive of it? I couldn't just flounder and try to keep up, I needed to think ahead. 'It woke me up, let me know a hero died, that a call had been sent, then this.' I carefully avoided thinking about it. It had been the strongest compulsion by far, muted as it was. I wasn't going to take any chances and dwell on it.

The pieces of information were falling together. I was slowly building an image of what was happening, and I didn't like what I saw, but it would be best to come to terms with it as soon as I could. I would rather take the harsh sting of reality instead of being left in the maddening unknown.

I'd been taken to another world.

Where? I had no idea. How? Again, no idea. That particular question gave way to others, leaving nothing but sour thoughts in my head. I didn't know if I died, was taken, or even summoned—there was no memory of any transition at all.

Waking up in the capsule with no idea where I was and the fact that I had edited memories, made the idea of me being on another world seem plausible. I also didn't know any medical procedures that boiled down to throw the patient in the magical medical liquid until they heal or hear voices. Magic words—because that's all they could've been—were the deciding factor that made me begrudgingly accept that I wasn't on earth anymore.

I was reasonably sure there was no magic, no way to force people to feel something, and no way to insert voices and compulsions straight into people's heads back home. Sure, governments, ex-girlfriends, movie directors, and big pharma have come close—but none were on the level I experienced.

Strangely enough, it was the cut personal ties that made it easier to accept and face my situation, which pissed me off. After all, if there's nothing that's left behind there's no hesitation to move forward. It made me angry enough that I wanted to ignore what was said and rebel against it. I'd find my own way back if I had to. If there was magic, then anything could be possible.

As I started coming to terms with what my life had become—and if I was okay with just how that came about—I heard a large commotion, larger than the breaking glass had been. It was the sound of fighting and battle, the type that brought forth instincts of fight or flight to the surface. My hair stood on end as I began hearing animalistic roars. The sound was echoing strangely because of the glass capsule I was trapped in, but it was still loud enough to hurt my ears.

'The timing of this is too convenient,' I realized. 'Loud roars, heavy thuds, and what sounds like monsters ripping through walls. It could be an attack. No way that it's a mere coincidence between what was said and what's happening now. It sounds like a warzone out there,' I put together. Explosions, gunshots, and heavy footsteps could be mutely heard through my glass barrier—the barrier that suddenly didn't seem nearly thick enough.

My capsule shook violently from one particularly nasty explosion. It rattled me and the liquid inside, shaking the both of us around like a mixed drink until I was dizzy enough to be sick. The only reason I wasn't was through sheer willpower and the desire to not be stuck floating in my own vomit.

Half an hour later, the commotion outside began quieting down. The sounds of the dying had also been silenced. There was the occasional short-lived clash, but they was nowhere near the level of battle before. I was suddenly left alone with my thoughts, which may not be my own.

I shivered, once again feeling strangely cold as I wondered about what fate awaited me.

I turned my thoughts away from that, focusing on what I thought happened. 'I'm pretty sure those were emergency lights when I first woke up. Maybe all of this was caused by a power outage or something else,' I weakly guessed; knowing that I was grasping at straws. It made sense in a way though, if there had been other...patients that'd gotten loose, I could see nothing good happening with the power out. Though that brought to question of what happened to the backup generators.

And it also didn't explain the voice, which seemed to center around everything. 'If other patients were feeling that, along with the other compulsions…' I didn't want to think about what happened out there. The screams were disturbing enough and made my imagination run wild.

Suddenly, a steady rhythm of gunshots began in the distance, breaking the silence and drawing me back to reality. Gunshots signified humans, or at least something smart enough to use guns. They were my opportunity out of here.

I was able to piece together plenty of information from just the sounds alone. There was one gunman with a heavy caliber gun firing one shot every forty-five seconds—at least until a dozen had been fired, and then it was either forty-six or forty-seven seconds. That was at most a two second reload time. Very impressive. I wasn't much of a gun enthusiast, but I realized it was the sign of a professional.

It didn't dawn on me what was happening until I realized that the gunshots were steadily getting closer—forty-five seconds was plenty enough time to walk from one room to another if they were side by side. The gunman was going from room to room and firing a single well-placed bullet into an experiment or patient that was compromised by the voice. 'This does seem like a black site facility where experiments happened regularly, especially with the animal roars and gunfire that I heard,' I paled, wondering just what the hell was going on here. Of course, as soon as I start figuring things out they just get stranger and stranger. Why was I woken up here of all places and not summoned directly to the royal palace?

The painful sensation of burning came back with my growing panic, quickly replacing the numb with its warm embrace. 'I can't die until I figure out who brought me here. Not until I get my revenge.' I clung onto the rising sensation, figuring that it was better facing the prospect of death being able to feel.

With every gunshot I could feel my body flinch but not by my own volition. It was a natural reaction to loud noises brought on by my flaring panic. The painful sensation was growing to new heights. Still, I held it in, cultivating the burning sensation in my gut along with the feelings that returned to my body. I felt stiff and sore, and my skin burned slightly, but it was better than not feeling anything.

I began trying to scream, to call out, talk, anything that would let the gunman know I wasn't affected by either the strange liquid or the words spoken in my head. The methodical gunshots continued closer ticking like a metronome and uncaring of my attempts. 'Is this even a person, or is it some kind of killing machine?' This was nothing like the typical summoned to another world stories that I read—this was more akin to a horror story.

To my mounting horror, all sounds died as a whimper in my throat. The painful sensation crept deeper and tighter inside of me, twisting like a knife. It felt like a rash and sunburn mixed together, and then a good helping of bleach was thrown on it to spice things up. It was getting difficult to maintain focus and count down the seconds.

'Not like this,' I thought, just as the door to my room swung open. That wasn't right, the gunman was here just seconds after firing the last shot over in the room next to mine. I couldn't tell if the mangled scream I heard had been a figment of my imagination, and I prefered not to find out.

Everything was distorted through the glass, and my mind was being distorted by my fear. I paused, looking to see if I could somehow dodge the incoming bullet—there was supposed to be thirty-two seconds until the next shot. I found that it was strangely easy to keep track of your approaching doom. Instead, the blurry figure moved towards the corner of the room, staying there for several seconds.

Suddenly, several hissing components unlatched on the outside of the capsule, startling me out of my funk. The air pressure dropped in the pod, making my ears pop and letting me take my first and possibly last breath of non-stale air. It smelled sterile, with a hint of gunpowder.

With peaking horror, I understood what was happening. 'The gunman's bullets can't penetrate the glass, they have to release each experiment before killing it.' Hope surged through me—intensifying the painful feeling. I could feel the burn digging in deeper—deep enough to hurt. This was my chance, something clanked at the three-second mark.

It was then when I was unceremoniously dumped from the bottom of the capsule, I felt something twist. The painful sensation flared and I was suddenly in agony. It stripped my thoughts of anything rational. The sensation encompassed me, flared again, and then I wasn't falling for half a second. Instead, I was stuck in my torment and liquid. I felt fresh air lick at my feet as terror gripped me, anticipating the shot.

That was all the time I needed apparently because when I hit the ground the sharp retort of gunfire didn't happen. I was staring up at a white tiled ceiling intermixed with thick wires and let out a loose and shaky breath that I didn't know I was holding in. I was fucking alive. The forty-five-second mark was up. The killing machine had deviated. It could reason. Weak laughter escaped me, pooling in the back of my throat. I heard words spoken towards me, but couldn't understand them—I truly was in another world then, even if they did sound so familiar... No, focus, I needed to show that I was aware, that I was human, but most importantly that I wasn't a mindless experiment.

"Ahhhhhh, Ahhhhhh." I internally winced at the primitive and childish sounding words—I still had no control over my body and couldn't talk. I sounded more like a babbling child than a rational adult. It was degrading and humiliating.

Some more words were spoken towards me, but I didn't understand the other-worldly language. 'It doesn't seem like I have any cheat skills then. It's strange though, the words sound so very familiar.' I didn't know how to respond and mentally shrugged. 'Fuck it, it's not like I can say anything wrong or insulting anyways. Just need to show I'm non-threatening.'

"Ohhhhh. Ugghhhhh," I gurgled out, doing my best to sound as innocent and puppy-like as I could.

My body started to cough in response to choking on my own saliva and the liquid that was in the capsule with me. 'Right, I'm laying on my back, unable to move. I'm going to die if I don't get any help,' I bitterly thought. I wasn't that worried though, someone else was here with me and able to save me. The liquid burned down my throat as it pooled in my lungs and shaking coughs started racking my body. Fear gripped me. Several seconds of agony went by and still nothing happened. 'Does the sick fuck just want to watch me choke to death because of my own, stupid, non-responsive body? Did I make a mistake? Are they some kind of sociopathic killer?'

To my surprise and directly opposite of where my line of thought went, I felt strong hands turn me over onto my side. I grasped the opportunity and willed myself to throw up, tilting my head away from—'is that blood? What the fuck?' That was blood. 'Why is there blood in my vomit? That's... not a good sign,' I blearily noted.

I started getting dizzy from both the acidic smell and being so close to my own sick. The hands that turned me over reached into my mouth and stuck fingers down my throat, forcing me to heave out the rest of whatever had collected in my stomach. I inhaled sharply, gasping for fresh air as I threw up all over the hand that helped me. Muttering was heard and they promptly flicked their hands clean, splattering me with several numbing drops of the medical liquid that I was freed from. Then a quick, insensitive and awkward pat was given to the small of my back.

'Killer turned nurse,' I grimly thought, feeling the calluses and barely restrained strength in their hands.

I was thankful for the help, and suddenly feeling leagues better now that I had most of whatever was making me sick out of my system. The liquid I'd been trapped in suddenly seemed a lot more dangerous—more along the lines of bleach than medicine. Thankfully, I was starting to feel sensation return to my body now that I wasn't submerged in it. There being no lasting effect was probably as lucky as I was going to get.

The hands tugged me over to the nearest wall and propped me up. I drank in the sight of the room, eager to see everything in more detail, but quickly became disillusioned to gathering anything specific. It was a sterile white room with nothing in it asides from a florescent bulb hanging from the ceiling, a metallic desk, a dusty computer, and my capsule.

The capsule was hooked to heavy cables that took up most of the small room. Strangely, it was the lack of a chair that bothered me the most in the entire room. 'Why is there a desk, but no chair?' The thought turned itself over and over again in my mind. Repeating until I forcefully wrenched my attention away from it.

I focused away from the plain room and onto my savior. The man was in his late twenties or early thirties with black medium-length hair, wearing a black well-fitted suit, and carrying a bulky looking pistol in a side holster. He seemed the definition of a hitman or at least a very dangerous, very armed businessman The most notable thing about him was the singular red dot on his forehead. It seemed to be a tattoo of some sort because he seemed more Japanese than Indian. He seemed frustratingly familiar, much like the language—I just couldn't place it.

He pulled out a radio and began speaking into it, carefully watching me. I felt his eyes trace each of my twitches as I tried moving, so I turned my neck...up from my position against that wall and gave him a disarming smile—doing my best to convey 'don't kill me!' across the language barrier.

He grunted, received a response from the radio, then dragged me out to the hallway where I instantly tensed up because of the proof that the earlier carnage happened. The hallway was demolished: rubble, broken doors, and bodies littered the hallway. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anything threatening that I could see in the immediate vicinity—aside from the man in a suit. I relaxed and went back to trying to move as he propped me up against the wall facing my old room.

He set me down and made a vague 'stay' motion with his hand, followed by telling me what I assumed meant just that. He went inside of the room beside mine. Several seconds later I jumped from the sound of a gunshot.

A second later he walked out of the room and spared me a glance, then gave me a painful looking smile that had the hairs on the back of my neck raising and the blood in my body curdling. 'That doesn't look like a person that smiles often, or at all. Way too forced—that looks like it physically hurt him!' The awful visage he made was quickly replaced by his usual stern expression that looked much more at home, much to my relief.

He unceremoniously continued down the hallway at his steady rhythm. I felt warmth spread through me as I realized the time between each of his shots was now forty-six seconds—to him, I was worth a whole second to check on. I wasn't quite sure why I felt pride from that, but as I sat there twitching and grinning I couldn't help but feel that things were looking up.

I had a dangerous killer looking after me, and I was going to get out of this place and hopefully get some answers. Most importantly of all—there were no voices in my head or compulsions! I could see myself enjoying my stay in this world where there could be catgirls to tame, monsters to fight, and magic to learn. 'Though how useful would magic be in a world with guns? No, what's important is finding out how I got here and to make whoever is responsible pay.' I felt much better setting a goal for my future—plain and cliche as it was, I needed something to keep me level-headed and focused.

The methodical rhythm of gunshots continued for a good amount of time, almost lulling me to sleep. I focused inwardly to rouse myself, trying to figure what felt off about me. That feeling that I was missing something glaringly obvious still hadn't went away, almost like a sixth sense.

Something was different about me. There were little inconsistencies that I was starting to notice now that I had a moment to relax. I was still having difficulty moving everything but my face even though I wasn't in the capsule anymore. The liquid that I could see was a strange bluish-green color and thick like jello, but all of it had sloughed off of me since I left the capsule. There was a slug-like trail leading from the room to my current spot and it seemed to almost be shimmering. No, the liquid shouldn't be affecting me anymore, something else was off.

I thought on where the feeling of wrong came from. 'It was so much more pronounced when I was near the man, and inside the capsule.' I looked around for anything else that would clue me in and quickly spotted something. 'The doorways, they're so much bigger,' I realized.

That wasn't such a strange thought by itself, the problem was that I was tall, the doorways shouldn't seem so big to me. I was used to towering well over people, even with my habitual slouching. Unless I was in a world where everyone was a veritable giant, I shouldn't be feeling as small and weak as I did now. The feeling of wrong intensified as I got closer to the root problem.

I was in a different body.

Not only was I brought to a different world, but I had been bodily transposed somehow. 'Well, why not?' I mused. Sure, it was strange, but it wasn't the strangest thing to happen to me since waking to this situation. I wasn't a baby, more along the lines of an older kid or teenager, but that was fine with me. Slightly inconveniencing, but I'd make do. 'After all, if the owner of the voice could mess with biology and free fucking will,' I clenched my teeth and bit back the rising anger, 'then what's stopping it from doing whatever they want?'

Learning that the rabbit hole I was in went down another level deeper wasn't easy, but I was confirming it with my...the two eyes I was using. I looked down at the foreign and too-small limbs, quickly piecing something together. 'My vision was never this good,' I realized. 'so was that why my memory of stargazing was different?'

While I was mainly angry, a good majority was relieved that I'd figured it all out. The feeling of wrong faded down to almost nothing. I may be missing more, but stressing out over it wouldn't be productive. I tried moving my fingers a little differently than what I was used to—and boy, was that a strange feeling—and was rewarded with my fingers twitching and cramping.

I grinned, what I'd thought were random twitches seemed to actually be improper movement. 'I'm going to need a while to work out the kinks and get used to everything again,' I groaned at my realization, letting out a wimpy huff. It didn't seem to be too terribly slow of a process which was a small mercy for my sanity, but I was used to working at a backbreaking pace. If something was slow enough it aggravated me.

Strange sounding words filled my ears, startling me. I belatedly noticed that the suited man was addressing me, looking concernedly down at me. I hadn't been paying attention and didn't notice that the gunshots had stopped, or that he'd somehow snuck up on me. 'Is it a different language or is it that I hear differently now?' I brushed off the distracting idea, so far I've had no difficulty with any of my other senses aside from touch. I painfully recalled that I'd been submerged up to my neck, so there was some reasoning behind that. Eyesight, taste, hearing, and smell were working fine.

"Eeeeeeee, nuuuuuuuuu," I struggled to make out.

'Even talking is going to be different for me with new vocal cords,' I realized. I wondered how much trouble and time this situation was going to cause me. Now, I'd need time to prepare before I set off for my revenge. I doubted this was even how being in a different body worked, but I was now in a world of magic—anything was theoretically possible.

The man nodded seriously at my words, seemingly committing my random noise to memory and not outright disregarding them—essentially humoring me. I nodded seriously along with him, schooling my features much like he had until my face was as stiff as his. His lips twitched and he said something, but nothing else gave way to his thoughts on my mockery of him. He patted my head, said another string of words I couldn't understand, and promptly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and began the walk down the long, mostly destroyed hallway.

I quickly became thankful for his silent company as we made the trek down the hallway. We were slowly going uphill, and I didn't know how long I would've been stuck in the stretching corridor trying to get out by myself, or even if I could. Realistically speaking, I doubted I would've even been able to make it out of the capsule at all. And I certainally couldn't make it down this hallway.

The hallway was absolutely trashed. It was so destroyed that my rescuer had to carefully step around the deformed body parts, pieces of wall, and giant metal limbs to make his way down it. I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing. Everything that we passed was destroyed or in disarray, making it hard to put together what it belonged to. I examined all of the strange monsters we passed, or at least what was left of them. Some looked like mutated humans or other typical fantasy monsters, while others...others looked more machine than monster.

I heard the whir of a powerful engine reverberating through the corridor as we approached what I assumed was the exit. It was obvious to tell this is where we would leave by the signs that a huge battle took place recently in the area, but what gave it away was mainly that the air smelled differently here—less antiseptic and blood, more like fresh air. Also, there was the giant metal vault door.

I was adjusted as he searched around in his pockets, feeling much like a sack of potatoes in the process. He pulled out a solid black keycard and brought it towards a panel I missed from my perch. The giant door hissed as it receded inside of the wall, allowing air to rush towards us—and the full force of the sound from outside.

There was a brief moment of sensory overload and I became thoroughly stunned. Sunlight, fresh air, and loud noises combined all at once and almost made me blackout. My senses slowly returned as I adjusted to the sudden change. While uncomfortable, it wasn't as jarring as the abrupt, induced shift in emotions from the voice.

The loud whir of helicopter blades balanced out to a reasonable level, and then my eyes got used to the glare of the sun and the overwhelming smell of grass. I couldn't see far in the harsh sunlight, but I could make out a solid black helicopter with no markings on it. There seemed to be a theme going on with black, but in that moment all I could think of was how good it felt to be outside. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't made my own escape, I was just glad to be out of there.

I was carried into the helicopter that was waiting outside, carried too easily despite my small frame, making me suspect muscle enhancements. He put me on the aircraft, signaled the pilot he was ready for takeoff, and then we quickly took off into the open air with a lurch that almost made me sick from the g-force.

As we leveled out, I easily picked scenery below us through the windows with my new and improved vision—massive trees with giant canopies dotted the landscape, and a seemingly endless blue sea filled my vision. It was breathtaking aside from the small entrance that denoted the place I was held in. 'Maybe this whole summoned to another world thing won't be so bad, I can clearly see without the need for glasses now. There's a whole new world for me to explore out there.' It gave me something to dwell on during the ride at least.

The man tried talking to me again, trying to garner my attention back into the aircraft, possibly trying to explain to me what was going to happen next in his strange language. I ignored him in favor of staring outside the window, drinking in what a whole new world had to offer.

The trees were easily seventy feet straight up—the canopies almost twice as long horizontally—which giant birds of prey rested in and trailed our passage with sharp eyes. The sea was ever expanding and had what looked like lizardmen patrolling along the beaches with tridents in hand. A mind-bogglingly massive serpent briefly breached the surface of the water, much like a whale, then quickly dove back under.

I stared outside, watching the scenery go by with a content smile on my face.

'I really am in another world,' I tiredly thought, excited by the prospect.

o~O~o

A commotion was happening up front as I woke. Once again, I was more groggy than I was used to, taking almost a full minute to put together where I was. I hadn't realized that I'd fallen asleep. I blearily raised my head from the seat cushion and focused my attention on what was going on up front.

Both the pilot and suit-wearing badass were arguing and pointing towards several different directions. Naturally, I decided to look out the window. Not quite putting together what I saw. I frowned, not enjoying how this body seemed to have difficulty waking up in an alert fashion.

I was ready for another day spent riding in the helicopter, the seats were surprisingly comfortable to sleep on, so I had no qualms about it. If I had any lingering doubt about this being a magic world, they were gone now. The helicopter had flown overnight and most of the previous day was spent flying over mountains and giant lakes at great speeds without any trivial needs such as refueling. That had to be breaking several laws of physics, confirming magitech was in play.

There was one problem though, after a quick test I realized I still couldn't properly move after my short rest, nothing more than twitches and small amounts of shifting. It seemed that my new body atrophied quite a bit, but it was rapidly improving. I'd been in the capsule for an unknown amount of time and was currently more bones than meat.

When I looked down upon the city we were approaching, something inside of me twisted.

So many people wish to start their life over. What they really want is to know what was going on with their life and have the time to plan for it. To know what to do, or what comes next with some magical answer that's pulled from the ass-end of nowhere. Magic doesn't bother with things such as reason. I hadn't fully realized what that meant. Looking down at the city I knew what was happening—and I was conflicted.

'I should've known,' I bitterly thought. 'Things hadn't been strange enough. Of course, they would somehow get more outlandish. If I had just switched bodies, then I would've continued living and do my level best to forget anything had even happened to me—to play the amnesiac and work out what I was going to do next. This is absurd.' Trepidation filled me as I looked down at what was below us.

I knew the city that was down there.

I sharply drew breath, garnering the attention of the person wearing a suit, someone I now knew because of my situation. Maybe, if there was time to prepare, I could've come to terms with my fate. I was not prepared.

Somehow I was in a game.

Midgar loomed beneath us, eating the landscape and drawing all attention towards it. Barren wastelands, dead looking ground, and Shinra patrols moving through rocky fields made a stark contrast to the green that grew several miles away from it. It demanded attention with how vile its presence was.

I suddenly found myself in the game of Final Fantasy 7.

I frowned, organizing my thoughts before it fully set in. Midgar,the iconic plate city was beneath us. The eight Mako Reactors looking like their nuclear equivalent were just as familiar to me as the intact Shinra skyscraper nestled in the center of the city. The top plate where houses stood wasn't known to me, but the slums beneath it were. I'd played countless hours of the game, of course I would remember it.

That I could remember that when I couldn't remember who my father was pissed me off. Mounting frustration welled up inside me. 'Something's wrong here. This shouldn't be possible and doesn't make any sense at all.'

Magic, I was quickly finding out, was bullshit.

The walls surrounding the plate city seemed impossibly large—maybe a hundred feet or more of clear safety glass and metallic plating with turrets lining it liberally—and was growing nearer. I could see the eight sectors down below, each the size of a small town compacted as tight as it could get. Now that we were getting closer towards the city, I saw robots moving along with patrols of Shinra Infantry. The Infantry helmets even had the signature three red glowing eyes.

No doubt about it, I was in the game. But no, not truly. There were no blocky polygons or pointy bits. This seemed to be an incredibly realistic version where the events of the game hadn't yet taken place. A version that I was somehow in. It was difficult to wrap my head around that.

Something must have alarmed my savior—Tseng, leader of the Turks—because he moved to my side and started shaking me, spouting something in what I was now sure was Japanese. The familiarity suddenly made sense, I'd heard it before, it wasn't an alien language. I still had no idea what he was saying, and didn't know what to reply.

He shook me a couple more times, set his hand on my shoulder, then gave up looking utterly confused when nothing helped. I hadn't freaked out in the facility, surrounded by dead monsters and the possibility of my own death. I was terrified then, but now I was close to the point of freaking the fuck out.

I gulped, realizing who was in the helicopter with me. 'No, I can't freak out here. Not with him here and my freedom at stake,' I bitterly thought.

It wasn't helping. I could feel a panic attack at the sudden realization that things were much stranger than I initially thought they were.I felt a flash of pain across my face that startled me, but more importantly dragged me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up at Tseng, who did his best to stare into my eyes, looking for any remaining signs of mania. The slap had sobered me up and dragged me back to myself.

I didn't know what to do now: I couldn't speak the language, I would be in Shinra custody, and worst of all I was utterly helpless. I looked over at Tseng, who was still staring at me intently. I was at his mercy, so I did just about the only thing I could do—I cried.

The tears came from the conflicting emotions playing out inside of me. The sobbing came from the crushing reality that there may not be a real reality around me. My body reacted to my emotions and there wasn't much I could do to stop it. Nature had taken over and was helping me cope. Snot dribbled down my face and I couldn't even reach up to wipe it off.

It was several more minutes until we got close enough to the city to land. I somehow managed to gather myself when we touched down right outside the sector gates leading into the city. The city of Midgar was right in front of me and I was being dragged in against my will. Tseng was giving me strange looks at my fast recovery and sudden shift in emotions, but accepted it and wiped off my face with a thematically black tissue.

I put my slight breakdown out of mind, instead focusing on the sheer size of the iconic city. It never seemed so big from a top-down or angled perspective, and all the buildings were bigger than expected and seemed to expand far into the distance. Especially the towering monolith in the center—Shinra tower.

I knew that by some strange play of fate, things hadn't been set in motion yet. No destroyed reactors that I could see from the air, no collapsed sector plates, no army mobilized. The city almost seemed...peaceful.

That illusion was thoroughly destroyed as I was carried by Tseng through the Sector 5 gate and into the slums. Slums were the only word to describe the place we stepped into it. A feeling of being watched crawled over me as we passed under the gates, crossing into the city. Nothing but rubble, debris, and shattered roads greeted us, but the feeling of danger and being watched lingered.

Faint moaning along with a stench that had my eyes watering was carried on a heavy breeze. Eyes peered out of little rubble crevices, tracking our movement and setting me on edge. I was stuck knowing that I wouldn't be able to defend myself if something happened. I hated feeling helpless like this.

Skittering echoed off the walls. I couldn't trace where they came from as heaps of trash and debris obscured the view of the surroundings. A curdling scream pierced the air, making Tseng pause and draw his gun, only to be put at ease when it was abruptly cut off. I shivered, there was no way any sane person could live here. 'But then again, this isn't a sane world,' I admitted.

The Sector 5 slums seemed dead with the pale and yellow dirt. It wasn't the pitch black surrounding Midgar, but it was an unhealthy color. The stale air was only broken up by slight breezes that sent trash shuffling. Ghost town was the first thing that came to mind, and the description fit perfectly. My nerves were raw, constantly expecting monsters to jump out at us just like in the game, but it never ended up happened.

Eventually, we came upon the abandoned church. At least, abandoned by all but one. As soon as I laid eyes on it, a sense of peace and calm washed over me. It was pleasant, and a nice change from the tense atmosphere before, but it reminded me too much of the voice. That fact alone made me tense up again, making me speculate... Tseng set me down and went inside, presumably to check if Aerith was inside and left me to my thoughts. In the meantime, I compared the church to what I knew of the game. It was surprisingly similar.

By some stroke of luck, a chunk of the plate above let in sunlight shining directly on the church in some blatant contrast between it and the city. I could see actual grass poking through cracks of the church, my first sign that something was alive in Midgar, and weeds were growing right outside. There was also a gut feeling about the church that screamed alive to me. I thought I briefly saw a face flicker in the window looking outside at me, but attributed it to my nerves.

Before I could dwell more on all of the strange feelings, Tseng came back out somehow looking happy despite having absolutely no change on his stern expression. It probably had something to do with him carrying a simple white flower in his front pocket. He walked over, picked me up, and then continued on wordlessly.

I barely noticed the scenery around us changing. The shift was so subtle I almost missed it. Everything went from trash and rubble to just rubble. Several buildings popped up that were in clear need of repair—cracks ran up their sides, roofs were semi-collapsed, and almost all of the windows in the area were broken. Things were different from what I remembered of the game, but only in the fact that there was more. More buildings clustered together, more people in the streets than I was comfortable with, and more activity going on. Thankfully, the locals all seemed to give Tseng a wide and healthy berth.

After being carried like a sack for far too long, Tseng's journey ended inside of a camp which I was positive was the same Sector 5 camp which Aerith lived in. I let the tension slowly fade away. There was no way that this was a coincidence, but I didn't want to think about it. I was feeling exhausted from the hectic ordeal of being rescued, sleeping on the helicopter, having my worldview shattered several times, and going through the slums.

I was eventually brought into what looked like an infirmary from the brief glance I got of it. Tseng exchanged a few words with an old man who seemed to own the place, and then settled me down onto a bed.

I dozed in and out of consciousness, each time wondering if I'd wake up in a different body as the day slowly ended. I was given bland food and water, a pan to relieve myself in, and several questions which I couldn't understand when I woke up from a particularly long nap. The words seemed like they were starting to make sense.

Tseng disappeared without my notice during one of my naps. Strangely, I was worried that the Turk wouldn't show up again and that he wouldn't tell me his reason for bringing me here—a worry which came true as the high-powered lights on the underside of the plates above dimmed down, effectively simulating nighttime and plunging the camp into darkness.

Sure, there were lights posted outside on the other buildings that gave off enough luminesce to stumble to the next patch of light, but this was an all-encompassing dark that dawned over the slums. The kind you find in caves and deep underwater. The kind where your mind conceives creatures or monsters not there—though in this case, they might actually be.

I spent my first night in the most technologically advanced city on the planet wrapped in a tattered blanket, in the slums, wondering where fate was going to take me.

Cold, naked, hungry, and alone.

o~O~o

The next day, I woke to the sound of fighting.

Gunshots, shouting, and the sound of metal-on-metal woke me up. I blinked away the haze, cursing this body's inability to wake up quickly. By the time I fully woke up it was all over. I took stock of my situation, there wasn't much else I could do.

I still couldn't move properly, but made progress on the twitches. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh, screams, and gunshots had set my blood pumping and caused an unpleasant adrenaline rush to set on, which was only now slowly fading. Despite that, I was feeling ravenous—hungry enough that I'd eat just about anything. At the least, I was feeling much better than I did yesterday.

The old man stumbled in from a separate room clutching a rifle and looking hungover. Now that I properly had a chance I looked him over closely. The most prominent thing about him was his beer gut, followed behind only by his unkempt beard that was down to his chest. He was older and graying, but he was still a large man; not weak in his age at all. It was obvious that he was a drinker, he had yellowing eyes and teeth, and I could smell his breath from across the room.

He was blinking sleep away from his eyes and settled on the doorway looking outside as if waiting for something. Several voices were heard calling out, and at that point the old man left grumbling, not even looking a bit put off by waking up to violence.

He came back a moment later dragging an unconscious teenager by the scruff of his shirt with several grim-faced adults in tow. The older teen was limp and bloody. He dragged the kid to the bed across from me while trailing blood the entire way.

I remained in bed, watching it all play out passively and trying to catch up. I couldn't understand what was being said and wasn't used to situations like this, so I kept quiet and didn't draw attention to myself. The teenager was lanky and had black hair, but his face was so bruised that there were no other features I could make out. His shirt seemed to be a sack vest while his pants were high water jeans. All of it was very low quality, just like what everyone else wore.

'Everyone else but me.' I realized, suddenly extremely aware of my nude body. Something that I had almost completely forgotten about. Shame washed over me as more people entered the room and worked on the teen.

I calmed myself, putting the bizarre scene out of mind. I was still a bit disorientated from just waking up, but I'd manage. I tried organizing the questions that were racing through my mind, putting the bloody scene out of thought.

'What purpose did Tseng have of bringing me here?' I knew that in the game Tseng had a soft spot for Aerith, so it wasn't too much of a stretch to believe that trait carried over to other children. 'Did he just want me away from Shinra, but close enough to keep tabs?' I couldn't reasonably explain this without asking Tseng himself, which I'd try to do at the next opportunity—if I had one. 'Finding me hooked up to what must be a black site project must be reported right?' If they knew about Aerith with how much Tseng liked her, then there was no doubt in my mind that Shinra now knew about me. 'What was the point of just dumping me here then, when I clearly didn't speak the language? I could barely move and have a hard time staying awake,' I mused. Tseng had his own motives for what he did. If I wanted to decide my own future, I needed to get a better grasp of everything.

'Now the biggest question, what was I going to do about future events?' I didn't know how I would help, or even if I should honestly.

It scared me thinking about how easily I could mess up the events if I took too much of an active role or wasn't careful enough. I wondered if I'd even be able to help, or if I could even be on the level that the main characters were at. They were the planet's best warriors after all, and I needed to find a way to keep up if I even wanted to help. Otherwise, I'd just be a burden, helpless to sit back and watch. A Yamcha.

An exclamation brought me out of my thoughts, then derailed them into the ground as I saw what was happening. The old man was pressing his wiry hands on the kid's chest, a bottle in hand and pouring the liquid into open wounds.

I froze, breath hitching. I felt helpless watching this without being able to help. Mania began to rise as I tried scrambling for an idea of what to do.

The scene lasted for several more minutes until the old man's expression hardened. He went back into his room, coming back out with a bottle of strong smelling alcohol and incense. He lit up the sticks and a sweet aroma quickly filled the room. He then offered what I assumed was a small prayer to the recently departed, and then ruined the peaceful image he created by taking a large swig of the drink.

What shocked me out of my thoughts was when he began tugging on the clothes of the dead kid, taking them off and rummaging through them. He made an exclamation when he found a hidden pocket, then grumbled when nothing was found in it. He then looked over to me and tossed both the pants and shirt over. The bloody clothes of the still warm owner. The clothes draped over me and I couldn't move to brush them off.

He walked outside and barked something and then two rough looking men came into the infirmary, taking the body wrapped in bloody sheets with them on the way out with grim faces. The whole ordeal was all over in less than 15 minutes. I heard wailing from outside that was quickly and sternly hushed—probably a friend.

I managed to stay stupefied for a good bit, staring at where the boy had been. It was my second day here. Reality had reared its ugly head and shown that this wasn't a game. I was in a very real situation where I could die. There doesn't even seem to be much you can do when it happens. Otherwise, they would have used a phoenix down or something else to help save the kid. It was over so fast, I could barely comprehend what was going on.

I shivered, feeling unusually cold. I was now facing a much harsher reality than the one I was used to. My first brush with death had come entirely unexpected and caught me off guard. Even if I'd thought to help him, I wouldn't have been able to. My body was weak from the vat filled with what I was now guessing Mako in light of recent information, and I didn't know what to do to save him.

For the rest of the day, I spent my time trying to come to terms with what my life had become—trying to not turn into a blathering mess. Thoughts flooded my mind with panic constantly. 'Was this the result of mako poisoning? Was I infected with JENOVA cells? What do I do now?' I internally fretted and had to keep pushing the thoughts away. I managed to keep the mania in check, barely.

When night came, I took the offered medicine from the clinic owner. I gladly took them and welcomed the effects that the drugs brought on me, dragging me into a tired daze. It was nothing like what I woke up to though. I shivered at that thought. The night came, the overhead lights dimmed and then abruptly cut off. Distantly, I realized that there'd been no sign of Tseng all day. It looked like I was on my own for now.

I didn't sleep much that night.

At least I was warm in my new clothes.