When I opened my eyes everything was wrong.
Not in a way that slaps one across their face with how apparent the wrongness is, but a subtler one, shown by how one of the smaller lego models I keep in my room is on the wrong shelf. Of how the piece of trash in the corner of my room that I have been meaning to pick up for a couple of days is now a very different piece of trash. Of how the books on my shelves are ever so slightly out of order. Of how the book I keep under my alarm clock is in better condition that I remember it being from all the times I have read and reread it.
It took me a couple of minutes to actually realize these examples, to put physical evidence to the feeling of wrongness I got from my gut. To get proof that this was in fact not my room despite how similar they appear to be. I have to admit that I am tempted to try and fall back asleep, to pretend that this has not happened, but a larger part of me refuses to do as such. I was potentially in danger and I needed to get somewhere safe before I could comfortably sleep again.
Ever so slowly, I get out of the bed and look around for anything that I could use against my kidnappers. Which is nothing overly useful, I could throw some books at them, but I doubt that would get me anywhere if they had actual weapons, even if I did ambush them.
Alright then priorities, Clothing and something to hopefully whack people with. I make my way over to the closet and open it to find myself faced with clothing that looks like a D&D-esque Cleric cosplay, a stuffed to the brim travelling backpack, and a 5 ft wooden staff.
Bah, I’ll take what I can get, like hell was I going to escape in the nude, I would rather fight my way out in this getup than naked. It takes me a good couple of minutes, after blocking the door and finding that my blinds cover non-existent windows, to get dressed. From what I could tell, this has legitimate armor incorporated into the outfit, which is a bit heavy, but would grant me some protection, though I doubt that it would do me good against sustained fire, but it might take a bullet or two for me.
I had some reservations about the backpack, but a look through shows me that the thing has several days worth of food, more clothing, some personal hygiene supplies, a bedroll and blanket, rope, caltrops, a short sword, and two daggers. I was definitely going to bring this with me, especially because I don't know where I am and there are legitimate weapons in the bag, even if my knowledge of how to use those weapons are nonexistent.
After all that, I unblock the door and ready the staff in the likely case that I need to brain somebody as soon as I open the door. I as not going to use the sharp pointy sword, mostly because I was just as likely to cut myself as I am the kidnappers or whoever is past the door. The staff on the other hand is easy enough to use with little room for self injury.
Upon opening the door I find that my decision has turned out to be a mistake, a very very large mistake. What awaited me on the other side of that door was nothingness. For no mortal words could describe the appearance of nothing of non-existence.
The very act of gazing out, if it could even be called that, hurt me in a way that I can’t ever really describe with words. I could feel my very being burn, and yet my eyes could not avert their gaze.
It was only seconds after the opening of my door and my exposure to the nothingness of non-existence, that something moved to block my view and stop the agonizing not-pain.
The being appeared to be infinite, will be infinite, was infinite? My brain seems to think that tenses would be a difficult thing for a being that resides in this non-existence. It’s appearance was also just as difficult to describe, it was fluid, ever changing and quite frankly confusing to look at, but at least it’s visage did not induce existence burning pain.
I also had the distinct impression that this being was responsible for the situation, but to be honest that was more of a guess, another being could have just put me here and this being could have just been the one to become interested in myself.
We stood there, I stood there staring at the being for what I could comprehend as minutes before the being decides upon something. Of what I know nothing, but I could feel the finality of a decision from where I stand. Another interesting thing is that I have not truly understood this nothingness and its effect upon the existing who are there.
The being paused if only for a moment before a single tendril, the size of my arm rocketed forward towards me. As it crossed the infinite yet finite distance I all but threw myself aside in what turns out to be a futile gesture of dodging.
The tendril easily anticipates my dodge and still rams itself into my forehead and into my brain. Hoisting my body up into a standing position from the floor that I had landed on.
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Everything began to turn numb but I was still here still thinking, which by all rights is impossible, but then again so was the being before me, so was the non-existence that surrounded this false room.
A charge, no, a pulse one similar to a heartbeat, seems to pass through me as I could feel myself change and my body, no, body does not feel quite right, my existence was overcome with an almighty sense of wrongness, of being incorrect. That every decision I have made, every word I have spoken, the letters I write, and the breaths I take are wrong, so very very wrong.
I could feel the tendril creep throughout my existence. worming its way through my veins, the pulse it gives off thumping through my nerves. Yet at the same time I could feel the wrongness invade what I can only describe as my core, my soul, the center of my being. The pulse syncing with it and causing my own core to mimic it as changes are wrought in my being.
Minutes, if time even existed here in any sense of the word, pass. The pulse and tendrils of the being continue to change. New knowledge is spawned within me, granted by my patron. My mind, body, and soul are being reforged and tinted by my patron still.
The pulse conveys the meaning of these changes of why this occurrence is happening and will happen again.
There is yet another lack of words for what has been communicated to me in concepts, but the best term translation is experiment.
I am an experiment to the being, something that it would watch, see the results of, and then implement the improved version onto another subject.
Another pulse occurs and I am granted more knowledge by my patron. Of fundamental laws and how to twist them so that they can be temporarily replaced by my own personal reality at the cost of my vitality, the life force of my existence, or fragments of my core existance. I have only been granted a mere two dozen different twists and alterations, only time and experimentation would help me find and understand more, for my patron would not bestow upon myself any more knowledge of that subject.
The pulse occurs once again and movements fill my being. Of how to use weapons, of dodging, of balance, and so much more. My body is changed and my patron has seen fit at making sure I was already used to moving this body as if it is my own, even going so far as to grant me knowledge of how to defend myself.
The pulse continues within my existence and with each one more is added to my being woven onto the core of my being creating layers over it that would in time merge with my soul and become one. I could feel myself change as the weight of my existence increased. What that means for me or others I cannot understand and likely never will.
Eventually the tendril retreats and my existence is changed. I was more, I am more, and I will be more.
My patron looks over his experiment that once was and still is I. The not quite satisfaction is palpable, my patron takes another enter out of a second to observe before it disappears and the door is slammed in my face causing no damage to what has been reforged.
Once more by myself I contemplate upon the situation I find myself in due to my patron. I was granted the knowledge that upon reopening the door I was set to be transported to a world of my patrons choice. One likely already selected from the moment that it made the decision to change this one.
My emotions that are oh so often shoved into a box in the corner of my mind finally break the lid and rampage about.
So I scream and rage at my situation, I shed tears for what is lost and never will truly be regained, and I freeze in place at the comprehension of why I got vitality based powers and the twist and alterations bestowed upon me.
Self sacrifice, martyrdom. To give something up that is of myself and use it to enact change upon the world in the hope to make it better.
A purpose that was perfectly in line with my depression-fueled desires, or rather it was before my patron reached into my very being and altered it for the better. It would explain why the majority of twists imparted upon me are mainly for support and defence rather than offence. I have always associated self-sacrifice with the concepts of healing at the cost of oneself and protecting those one cares for at any and all costs.
I sigh and toss that train of thought to the side and focus upon what I will need to do in the next couple of minutes, opening the door and stepping through the portal that should be on the other side of it. My patron set that up to send me to a world that is mainly a sword and sorcery world that is currently under threat by a demon lord. I have no other knowledge about where I am being sent though. Even a bit of knowledge about the general culture and important kingdoms and nations would be incredibly useful. Heck, even basic knowledge of the supposed enemy would be great as well. I shouldn’t complain considering that my patron actually helped me and improved me rather than just throwing me off somewhere or just outright deleting my existence.
All in all, I still very much wish to go to the world my patron has chosen for me, but I really wish I was given some knowledge about said world and perhaps even a chance to say goodbye to my family.
A deep inhale followed by an extended exhale is all that it takes to steel my nerves for the last action that needed to be done. I reached forth and opened the door, a vortex floated before my door and I was dragged out of the room without choice. The deathgrip I had on the door doing absolutely nothing.
My body twisted and warped as I experienced motion that could only be described as being flung everywhere and nowhere in an instant. A nausea inducing experience, and I would have vomited if not for the fact that I could not move and I was locked into position by forces unknown.
The entirety of my existence expands and collapses at the same instant and my awareness fades, the color green appearing before my eyes as they close.