The man passed the threshold of reality, becoming weightless. Flashes of memories passed by him, twisting, turning, all flowing forward. Except him. He was moving in the opposite direction, like a small fish fighting the current of a stream.
His eyes widened, noticing that his satchel wasn't with him. He frantically looked from side to side, only to notice it was above him. He sighed in relief.
Along with the satchel, he found the sacrificial stone! Upon seeing that slab, his pupils dilated. His heart rate reached a peak, his breath became labored.
Suddenly, his movement sped up. Suddenly, a harsh wind battered his worn body. His head pounded in sync with the insane pressure. Finally, unable to withstand the pressure, he was blown far away, the stream of time becoming a distant memory.
After hours and hours of drifting through the void, the time stream faded back into view. Whereas before the stream was quiet, moving slowly, here it raged like a newborn supernova.
The man stood there in awe, likely never going to see such a sight again. T'was of impossible beauty, yet tumultuous. He slowly walked to the flow's bank in a trance. He reached his arms out, touching a drop of foam.
The stream stopped flowing. An ethereal white light blinded the man, a phantom wind surrounding him in a whirlpool, majestic in its power. He felt a sharp tug at his navel, yanking him into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness.
He drifted to awareness, floating in a pool of black. The inky black melted away to reveal fuzzy shapes, devoid of much color. He reached out and touched a cube, able to feel again.
He caught the scent of fresh roses, which might've been the red blob in the corner of his vision. He tasted the metallic red of blood, jerking him to true awareness. As he lay there, the soft blob covering him sharpened into a blanket, full of colors.
He groaned, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise. Rubbing his eyes, the man looked about him. He was in a tall, domed room. It was an elegant structure, made of a coppery material, gilded with gold and what looked to be lapis lazuli. Strangely enough, all the bedroom furniture - yes, a bedroom - was sized to house someone much larger than him.
He sighed, sliding off the bed and padding his way to the desk. Its surface was empty, an ink bottle and an elegant calligraphy pen lay neatly in a drawer. Same as everything else in this strange room, it was made of extremely fine materials. It was of the slanted variety, for easier writing.
Other than the bed and desk, the circular room came with a plush rug, some armchairs, a mirror, some paintings, more shelving, and a bathroom.
The man sighed in sadness. His rune array was designed to place his soul into the body of a person who had recently departed and heal it into an optimal condition. He slid off the chair he was sitting in and moved towards the mirror in the room, intent on seeing his new face. He looked in the mirror and his mouth fell open in pure shock.
"A child!?" He mentally exclaimed! "I was supposed to be placed into a body near my age!" The body was a young boy, with frosty white skin and bluish-silver hair. His eyes, though, were an unusual shade of azure blue.
With this discovery, all his plans had fallen apart. Every single one immediately flew out the window. First off, he didn't even think he was in the right era, let alone the exact decade he had to travel to!
He supposed he'd just make it up on the go and not let his idiocracy hinder the ultimate goal.