Darkness pressed against his eyelids like cold, wet cloth.
For a moment, he thought he was floating in nothing.
No sound.
No floor.
No recollection of what happened except the blinding image of a geometric circle.
Then the darkness broke.
A violent jolt shot through his spine.
Air slammed back into his lungs, as if someone had shoved his soul into a body too fast.
He gasped and crashed onto solid earth.
"Ugh!"
Dirt scraped his palms. Grass brushed his neck. Cool air bit at his skin.
His senses came back one at a time.
Sound first, then smell, then pain.
His eyelids were heavy, but he forced himself to open them.
A forest stretched around him.
Gigantic trees.
Under bush.
Tall grass.
Reiji pushed himself upright.
"What… the hell?"
His heart raced as he stared down at himself.
"Where are my clothes?" he muttered, furrowing his brow in confusion.
His head buzzed with many questions piling up fast like an avalanche.
In attempt to search for life, he shouted, "Hello?"
His voice echoed around.
No one answered, but there was a faint voice that rang in his head.
He wandered aimlessly.
Walking around the forest for a long time.
Then the ground built up a tremble.
*THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy hooves pounded against the dirt, waking the forest.
He headed towards the noise, drawn forward by something.
Curiosity.
The closer he moved, the more sounds filled the air.
At first it was a collective thud.
Then there's metal clashing, wood creaking, rough voices barking orders.
When he finally saw the source of it all, he parted a line of bushes, and dropped to his knees.
Observing.
"What in the…" he whispered, eyes wide.
A caravan stretched across the dirt path.
Mounts.
Wagons.
Armored riders.
Scaled beasts.
A scene ripped straight out of a fantasy.
As they go, one wagon tipped over.
A woman on a horse shouted, "Quid fecisti, homo?!"
His eyes widened as he froze.
Not just at the surreal sight, but at the shock of familiarity.
"That was Latin."
He clutched his as as his last memory struck him like a hammer.
"I was just analyzing my fathers modified Vitruvian Man diagram at home."
Along with his fragmented memory, words echoed through his skull.
This made his breathing hitch.
The words were a painful shock in his head.
His world blurred.
For a moment, he was once again lost in nothing but a high pitched ringing sound and a voice in his head.
Then he snapped back.
Everything felt off.
It was quiet.
The voice was suddenly silenced.
The marching conroi of knights, the sound of their armor, and horses' hooves.
All gone.
Like it vanished in an instant.
The hoofprints and wheel ruts remained on the rough, unpaved road.
His jaw remained open as he turned in circles.
The oppressive silence pressed on him, drowning himself out with questions.
"What is happening to me?"
His gaze lowered to his trembling hands.
"This is just a dream, isn't it?"
The overturned wagon from earlier was still there, unmoved, untouched by whatever had erased the rest.
He twitched his toe. Hoping to wake up.
But nothing.
It was still the same forest, and he's alone.
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, steadying his nerves.
He pushed himself to his feet and approached the wrecked wagon.
A torn cloth caught his eye.
He wrapped it around his waist for some semblance of decency.
"Those things pulling the wagon looked like something from a myth… I've definitely been reading too many historical fantasy books again."
He knelt beside the broken wagon, inspecting the crushed wood, the scattered supplies, anything that made sense.
But nothing did.
"It's too vivid."
With a sigh, he sat down at the edge of the dirt road, clutching the cloth around his waist, still completely unsure of what to do next.
He had imagined fictional worlds before, but this was too realistic.
Detailed.
And time?
It moved strangely.
The sun barely crawled across the sky when he walked.
But now, it looked like the sun is about to set.
"How long have I been waiting?" he grumbled.
He clicked his tongue in irritation.
As the voices in his head returned, he continuously tapped the side of his head.
It was like a mantra looping over and out in his mind.
Il corpo è misura del tutto. Il cerchio non vincola rivela. Dove il tratto è vero, Dio si riflette.
The suffocating chant echoed endlessly in his skull, refusing to fade.
Minutes.
Hours.
Time passed as his frustration rose.
His emotions began to boil over.
"The sun is still up? Why is this dream so long?!"
Out of frustration, he clenched his fist.
"WAKE UP!"
And he slammed it straight into his own face.
*THUD!
His vision blurred. A loud ringing filled his ears.
He let out a low, humorless laugh. "I'm still here…"
He punched himself again.
*SMASH!
"HAHAHAHA!" His laughter cracked with desperation as he slammed his forehead against the ground.
Blood dripped down, darkening the dirt.
"This isn't a dream…"
He lifted his head.
His senses slowly returned.
He froze.
Petrified by a towering creature looming over him, staring right down on his face.
A white humanoid rabbit.
Its blood-red eyes glowed like embers as its shadows covered him.
His entire body trembled.
His fingers dug helplessly into the grass.
His mind, usually sharp and unfazed, had been nothing more than shattered glass since he woke.
Even more so under the pure dread of the creature.
For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid.
He had no weapon.
No footing.
No plan.
"Back! Stay back!"
The rabbit was calm.
Instinct kicked in and he grabbed a broken branch near his foot and swung.
It cracked uselessly against the creature's skull.
It picked him up.
He thought of punching it with his hands but in that same instant, the giant rabbit raised a massive paw.
Time slowed.
"I'm dea–"
*WHAM!
The blow slammed into his left shoulder, launching him through the air before he could even finish his sentence.
He flew straight into the trees, crashing into the trunks one after another.
Until his body finally hit the ground.
The pain was immediate and merciless.
Blood flooded his mouth.
He pushed himself onto his knees, trembling violently.
"I… lived?" he choked.
Coughing out blood.
The rabbit didn't give him time to breathe.
It lunged, grabbed him, and squeezed him.
His ribs felt like it was crashing in its massive paws.
"You… damned rat!" he spat through clenched teeth.
A small voice rang out across the clearing.
With one hand on her forehead, a little girl muttered, "Hoya, Bobbin! Kema'no ka-tapusin'a Tani."(Hey, Bobbin! You're not supposed to end him.)
He strained to look toward the voice, forcing himself to stay conscious.
He wondered.
"What did she just say?"
It left a lingering question.
Was she a friend?
Or was she asking to finish the job herself?