Vanitas's eyes fluttered open to a dimly lit room, the air thick with the musty scent of old metal and dust. Rubbing his temples, he tried to push through the fog of grogginess that enveloped his mind. "Ugh, my head feels like it's been used for target practice," he muttered to himself.

As he sat up, he took in his surroundings: a cluttered space filled with rusted machinery and broken gadgets. Light filtered through cracks in the ceiling, casting strange shadows across the walls. "What in the world...?" Vanitas muttered, surveying the scene with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a voice cut through the silence, startling him out of his reverie. "Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living."

Vanitas turned towards the source of the voice, his eyes narrowing as they fell on the figure standing in the doorway. It was a grizzled man, his face weathered and worn with age, yet his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.

"Whoa, easy there, grandpa," Vanitas retorted, flashing the man a lopsided grin. "You trying to give me a heart attack?"

The man chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed through the room. "Just making sure you're still with us," he replied, his tone gruff but not unkind. "Name's Rorik, by the way. And you, my friend, are currently taking up space in my humble abode."

Vanitas raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And how exactly did I end up here?" he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.

Rorik shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Beats me," he admitted, scratching his head. "One minute I'm minding my own business, the next you come crashing through my roof like some kind of human meteorite."

Vanitas blinked, his mind struggling to process the absurdity of the situation. "I what now?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Rorik nodded solemnly, his expression deadpan. "Yep, you heard me right. Straight through the roof," he confirmed, gesturing towards the gaping hole above them. "I gotta say, it's not every day I get a visitor dropping in unannounced."

Vanitas shook his head in disbelief, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "Well, I guess I've always had a talent for making an entrance," he quipped, unable to resist a hint of self-deprecation.

Rorik chuckled, the sound echoing through the room like distant thunder. "That you do, my friend," he agreed, clapping Vanitas on the shoulder. "But enough about your unexpected skydiving adventure. The real question is: how did you survive this?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Vanitas shrugged, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Well, maybe I was lucky and the fall wasn't that bad," he replied, his tone tinged with skepticism. "But I'm just as baffled as you are."

Rorik regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Are you sure about that?" he pressed, leaning in closer. "Seems like you're more than just lucky to me. Are you enhanced by any chance?

Vanitas shook his head, a sense of unease creeping over him. "No," he replied slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I'm just... me."

Rorik regarded him for a long moment, as if trying to discern the truth from his words. Finally, he nodded, seeming to accept Vanitas's answer. "Fair enough," he said simply, before changing the subject. "So, what do you remember about Emberfall?"

Vanitas blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Not much, to be honest," he admitted, his mind racing to recall anything he knew about the city. "I remember hearing stories about it, though. About how it was one of the last bastions of humanity after the Archangels nearly wiped us all out."

Rorik nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "That's right," he confirmed. "Emberfall was founded in the aftermath of the Archangel Protocol, when humanity was on the brink of extinction."

Vanitas frowned, the name sparking a flicker of recognition in his mind. "The Archangel Protocol?" he repeated, his voice tinged with curiosity. "What's that?"

Rorik's expression darkened, his gaze turning distant as he recalled the events of the past. "It was a dark time," he began slowly, his voice heavy with emotion. "The Archangels were unstoppable war machines, created to protect us from our enemies. But something went wrong. They turned on us, unleashed their fury upon the world."

Vanitas listened in silence, a chill running down his spine at the mention of the Archangels' betrayal. "And Emberfall was built to withstand their onslaught?" he ventured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rorik nodded, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not quite," he corrected. "We may have been battered and bruised, but we refuse to give up. We rebuilt this city, as an recycling operation to harvest ressources from nearby ruins to further expand our reach and influence to aide other enclaves"

Vanitas couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for the resilience of the people of Emberfall. "It's impressive," he admitted, his voice filled with awe. "To think that humanity could come back from something like that."

Rorik offered a gruff chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "We're a stubborn bunch," he said simply. "And we don't take kindly to being pushed around."

As they talked, Vanitas felt a sense of camaraderie growing between them, a bond forged in the crucible of shared experience. Despite the uncertainty of his own past, he knew that he had found a friend in Rorik, someone he could trust in this unfamiliar world.

And as they continued to talk late into the night, Vanitas couldn't shake the feeling that his encounter with Rorik was just the beginning of a journey, in which he will find answers for himself and how he ended up here.