'Beat after beat after beat after beat was how my heart raced when I jerked awake, just shy of eighty billion beats per millennia. The anxiety set in simultaneously, and my hands began to tremble like I was playing Chopin's Etudes. My breath was warm, exaggerated by the friction of the wind on my throat as my lungs pushed air in and out at the most irregular of intervals. I was really not okay.'

'What's happening to me? What's on my face? What's this feeling? I'm so scared. What's happening? Why is this happening? Who's doing this? Where are they? What's this feeling on my face? Why is it cold? Why is it fluid? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?!'

'I wailed and sobbed and sobbed and wailed and sobbed and wailed and wailed and sobbed. Sounds that weren't the haphazard throbbing of my heart were completely tuned out, and my eyes were so sensitive that they could pick out the exact location of any electron in the atoms of the surrounding landscape. Again, why did my body feel so moist, what was happening?'

'I didn't know, but something began to stream down my cheek, and a sting similar to paresthesia threw a great big exclamation mark at my brain. What was this?!'

'I uncovered the culprit soon after my eyes and my nimble fingers laid its faculties in response to a...droplet, or rather, a few droplets. I took a while, but when my heart began to relax, the sounds of thunder and rain finally made their way through, and my hands finally started to lower in tempo, and my breath finally slowed to a beaming halt.'

'It was okay. Everything would be fine now. Nothing really happened.'

'...I really had to calm down.'

'And so, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.'

'...'

'...'

'...'

'...'

'...'

'...Okay.'

'It looked like the morning, but it was probably closer to the evening. Even though I couldn’t tell you for sure without a watch, my sleep schedule preceded me.'

'Why did everything feel so different though? Was it because of what I did? Was it over?'

'The difference between the environment I was currently in and the environment of my [Fortress of Solitude] went unnoticed up till now. It would have remained unnoticed for a few more seconds had I not taken the time to look to my front.'

'That difference was a complete change in my present location.'

'If I had woken up and had this startle me instead. Would I panic? That's what you're hoping to ask, isn't it? But you know, I wish my answer would actually be yes. I wish I’d be struck with terror. I wish I’d be absolutely horrified at how I’d ever get back. But my answer will always be no. I could never be panicked at something so commonplace for me as this. '

‘So, with bated breath, I repeat my recital, for a consecutive time:

"It can't be helped. (To have this happen this many times, to not be able to ever actually live a life worth living. To live the life of a worm)."’

'I just had to move forward, and not really look back. I had to be weary at every turn, even if I was sure of myself, I had to question everything now. And I say that I just had to because I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Either I did or I didn’t, the latter choice usually led to me going with the former, albeit after squirming, if you could even call it that. So, you see. Even if I didn’t want to, I had to. It was a simple deliberation.’

'Short steps at first, giant steps following readily, and with a rekindled, haphazard determination, I got up on my sneakers. The route had drifted, along with all signs of modernity, and what was left in its wake was...nothing. I couldn't see anything yet. The street that sloped down to the gate was blocked off by a cobblestone wall on the other side.’

‘If these were natural circumstances, this is what I like to think I would've said: (Fuck me! I’d forgotten how much I hated walking around without a concrete plan! And believe it or not, but I'm so tired, so why does this have to happen now?! I just wanted to isolate myself at home, browse my computer, play video games, drink, and do drugs, so why couldn't I just have that for a while? Was that really too much to ask? And you know what the worst part is? I can’t seem to stop fucking trembling because of it all. It’s becoming really uncomfortable!)’

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

‘But it seems I can't even blurt out a simple: ‘...…Even so.’.’

'Steps in a continuous cycle trodden the now-cobblestone walkway. The leaves strewn about the path had completely disappeared.'

'Through the gate, up the street, and a right turn into an intersection. That was ⅔'s true except for the last step where I actually ran into a bustling marketplace.'

'Beset on both sides of the street were stalls selling a variety of items. Weapons, food, medicinal supplies, and so on. Behind these stalls were what appeared to be residential areas, perhaps the homes of the stallholders. These buildings were anachronisms in modern society, but they were commonplace here. Half-timbered homes, made up of a wooden frame and brick, with black and white accents making up its architecture. The buildings themselves couldn't have been more than forty feet high, roughly the height of a typical three-story structure.'

'Wow.'

'I let out a guttural sigh and decided to flow with the crowd of people running towards the inside establishments. For now, I had to play along. The sounds of the running steps tapping on the wet ground were quite pleasant, at least.'

'Not long after, I arrived at a tavern. A great big old sign labeled the establishment, "Ithaca's Last Resort", on bold wooden carving. What a scary fucking name. With a name like that, who'd dare to even come in here? But more unnervingly, it had been written in modern English, which...was odd, to say the least.'

'Inside, a moist swarm of generic people gathered. My entrance elicited hushed discussion among the group. And as the door banged shut behind me, the talk became slightly quieter. I could feel their eyes creeping at my back a few moments later as I entered.'

'The stone interior provided me with temporary relief from the annoying rain, but it did open me up to all types of liability. I wasn't from around here, and they knew that too; they just had to look at me, hoodies sure as hell don't exist in this era. I stood out more than the moss growing on the wall, next to the door.'

'I ended up approaching the bar, and kind of struck a conversation with the bartender, who was cleaning a glass with a towel.'

'"Hey pal, listen, mind helping me out for a second?"'

Scene Insert: (0101)

'They raised their eyes to me, taken aback. The person appeared to be a typical human being, with grayish-brown hair, middle-aged. When they turned to face me, their hood completely obscured their face from my view. Their job attire was uniformly black, with silver buttons reaching all the way up to their collarbone, as if worn by a chaplain. They were tall and slender, with an athletic aspect. When we looked at one another, we were on an equal footing.'

???: '"How can I help you?"'

'I laid my right arm on the counter.'

'"Well, I'm curious about what's around here. Maybe you could tell me about a few spots, maybe historical?"'

'Please tell me where I am, please tell me where I am, please tell me where I am.'

???: '"What?"'

'"A place, somewhere to go that's historical."'

???: '"Hmmm."'

'He looked pretty deep in thought, or maybe he was just a bit puzzled at the question.'

???: '"Uhh, the capitol should always be open, even in deplorable conditions. Every other monument is probably out on holiday, and the national library is probably closed after the, I think it was a riot, a few days ago."'

"'And where might that be?"'

???: '"A few selim north. Just follow the street outside downwards, and you should make it there eventually."'

"'Okay, thanks. Bye!"'

Scene End

'I ran out in the spur of the moment, without looking back at my attentive passersby...I think I'll pass on attracting even more attention than I already have.'

'Outside, a few meters away from the tavern, the same cloudy sky poured its load on me. I started down the desolate street. Let's rehash: so selim, is that a kind of distance unit? If so, how far is a few? Surely it’s not that much with how casually the dude had said it. And, there's a capitol building here, which probably means this is the capital of whatever bumfuck country I was in. Also, a riot? Holy fuck, about what?'

'Without definitive answers to these questions, I picked up my pace. All light had dimmed into dusk now, even though it was probably still only a bit into the evening.'

'The decrepit cobblestone added an interesting allure to this place; after all, I wasn't used to seeing such a different view while I was walking. But that didn't last long because my usual walking habits wouldn't cut it this time. I had to be alert and attentive. All details mattered here; I couldn't miss a thing.'

'I walked on forward through the somber roads, which in turn brought forward past memories. Before I found out about my spot, I used to take late-night walks like this through the city, even before the cold was any better on my soul than a heated room. I enjoyed it, if you really want to know. Having people around me, feeling the breeze on my face, looking at all the lights illuminating the metropolitan square, it was all kind of nice.'

'I kept on passing the same architecture along the way. Black and white, half-timbered homes. A few horses with their respective wagons passed me, but they didn't pay me much attention. Everyone here had their own thing going for them, all with their own respective aspirations, goals, and objectives. Why would they allot even a fragment of their time to me?'

'From that point, I just continued to look out at the barren city, for no particular reason other than that I wanted to. I just...looked on. Really, anything could have happened right then, a gust of wind could have meddled my hair, or rain could have hit my face, but I wouldn't be telling you like this if that did in fact happen. The reality was that my eyes began to tear up, if you really want to know. I guess what I found most concerning was that I didn't actually know why. I mean, I assume most people know why they cry? But that wasn't the case this time, it just wasn’t. Instead, an odd pit in my stomach formed and I became uneasy…’

'There was a song that played in my head, a song that I can only slightly remember, but I always seem to look back on with sorrow. It played while my cheeks became just slightly colder, and as I continued to pass the many establishments, and as the raindrops kept falling on my head. It was all kind of funny, in a way.'