~You're panicking.~

This was the thought bouncing around inside Ryan’s skull as the feeling of dread increased exponentially. His mind struggled to make sense of his predicament, but each attempt seemed to fall short. He ran through a gamut of possible explanations in his mind, ranging from the improbable to the downright absurd, ~Did I stumble into some army project? CIA Mind Fuckery? Was this just a good old-fashioned drug trip?~ Nothing seemed to add up.

The further he ran, the more of the world he saw, and the less anything made sense.

He knew, intellectually, that he was allowing his emotions to control him and that this was dangerous. In times like this, you needed to use logic and reason if you hoped to survive. He thought back to the words of his first drill sergeant.

‘The only feeling a man should ever have is hunger.’

Alas, Ryan found himself unable to shake off the all-encompassing emotions that seemed to be closing in on him, threatening to breach the walls of his mind. A palpable sense of impending doom shadowed his every step. It wasn't just the inexplicable circumstances unfolding around him that bothered him, but the fact that he was actively avoiding confronting the situation. Ryan was aware that stopping to think would force him to confront what he was avoiding, and he wasn't ready to face 'THAT'.

Ryan stopped as he rounded the next building. No one was immediately around him, so threw himself back against the brick wall, HARD. He slapped his face repeatedly to punctuate each syllable as he spoke.

"Get! It! To! Geth! Er!"

Ryan sighed as he let his hand slide down his face, feeling the weight of the situation. His head hung low, and his silver hair fell forward to cover his eyes and blot out the world. This barrier helped him mentally isolate himself and focused. He honed his senses, attentively listening to the ambient sounds around him. The gentle rustling of wind between buildings, snippets of distant conversations floating out of open windows, and the rhythmic sound of his blood coursing through his veins all contributed to his heightened awareness of the present moment.

He took a few moments to calm down and collect himself, ~It is only a matter of time before they start to look for me and they have superior manpower. I have to focus on getting out here. I do not have time to think... To think about...~

"Don't think about-."

It was an age-old problem. How not to think about something you don’t want to think about. He realized that even acknowledging the problem necessitated thinking about it, as evidenced by his memory of the airport that was now forcefully surfacing in his conscious mind. Attempting to push the thought away only seemed to exacerbate it, dragging the unwelcome memory to the forefront of his thoughts once again, like an unwavering specter haunting his consciousness.

~Michelle and Melissa are dead.~

Ryan's mind locked up. Thinking about what had set the current chain of events into motion derailed his mind completely and like it or not, he shut down, sliding down the rough brick wall to the ground. The weight of it all overwhelmed him, causing his thoughts to scatter incoherently. Despite his best efforts, he found himself shutting down, unable to process or accept the reality before him. He slumped against the rough brick wall, feeling utterly immobilized. Ryan was caught in a fugue state, unable to move, think, or come to terms with the unsettling truth that had unfolded before him. His mind seemed to spin in a loop, cycling through various implausible scenarios over and over again, until it arrived at one inescapable conclusion.

"I killed myself and I am in Hell."

Admitting this out loud finally allowed Ryan to move again. He lifted his gaze, looking around to reorient himself with the present moment. As he surveyed his surroundings, he couldn't help but voice his doubts, "But this doesn't look like Hell." It was a flicker of clarity amidst the chaos, a glimmer of rationality that helped him regain a semblance of composure.

"Maybe..." He hit the side of his head with the heel of his hand, "Maybe it's a slow burn? Maybe this is MY personal Hell." He let out a light giggle, "Or maybe it's a mistake! Maybe... Maybe... Saint Peter got the paperwork screwed up! Maybe-" his thoughts drifted about this fleeting attempt at finding humor in the absurdity of it all.

But then, like a familiar coping mechanism kicking in, Ryan forcefully pushed down the swirling thoughts and emotions, compressing them into a dense, metaphorical lump of neutronium. It was a time-tested method of dealing with his problems. Push his troubles deep down and ignore them until they fester into an ulcer.

He slowly pulled himself to his feet, gritting his teeth in frustration, "Get it fuckin' together, Ryan!" Reflexively he began performing stretching exercises to regain a sense of self-control. He thought back to boot camp and echoed the words of his cranky sergeant, "Theoreticals and practicals. One problem at a time. One solution at a time.”

It was a reminder to break down complex issues into manageable parts and to focus on practical steps rather than getting overwhelmed by the bigger picture. Ryan took a deep breath, centered himself, and then began to methodically analyze his situation. Identify the immediate problem, formulate a plan, and then tackle them one at a time.

Carving order out of chaos is nothing more than a grind.

Ryan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to clear his mind, "What is the immediate need?" He cleared his throat, "Step one. Get out of hostile territory. This place is a prison, or a holding facility, or... something." He pushed off the wall and began to slowly move down the side of the building, "Whatever it is, we need to get out of here."

Tilting his head to the side, Ryan froze as he considered his last statement, ~We?~

Before he could pursue that train of thought, Ryan heard yelling in the distance, ~They're getting organized.~ He resumed his escape plan, which was little more than going in a straight line as much as possible, ~Sooner or later I'll get out of these buildings and into the surrounding wilderness. I'm a goddamn soldier from the Catskills for fucks sake! If I can't lose my trackers in the woods, then I deserve to get caught!~

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Ryan picked up the pace.

~Faster. Faster. Must Move Faster. Don't Pay attention to your burning lungs. Ignore the pain in your aching limbs.~ Ryan knew one thing for certain, this wasn't a drug trip. If this was virtual reality, it was a direct plug into the back of his skull because he KNEW this wasn't his body. His vision swam as he pushed himself to a limit that if he had his old body, he wouldn't have even broken a sweat. He might have the right mindset to push his current body beyond all limits, but this body’s limits were remarkably constraining.

~Reed, for the record, you took shitty care of yourself.~

Gasping for breath as he came running out of an alleyway, Ryan was too exhausted to react quickly. He smashed right into the back of a mass of drill curls and the female student attached to them.

The impact sent both pitching forward. Ryan reflexively wrapped his hands around his victim to catch her and hopefully prevent her from falling. "Whoa!" He exclaimed as he unintentionally grabbed her with both hands at right about the same level as her ample bosom. The grab wasn't flattering, to say the least, but it did prevent her from going face-first into the sidewalk.

Ryan wasn't trying to cop a feel, so as soon as he could get her back on her feet, he let go and backed off. He intended to dodge around and continue on his way, but for some reason, he couldn't move when she turned around to face him.

If everyone in this crazy school had crazy-colored hair, she was the first one he'd ever seen with crazy BLACK hair. That didn't quite capture the true essence of it. Her hair was more like Vantablack - the blackest black known to exist, absorbing almost all light that touched it. It was the sort of black that light disappeared into. It was as if her head was enveloped in a living darkness, making it hard to discern any depth or texture. Her long, flowing curls framed her face and draped over her shoulders, but the mesmerizing feature of her hair was its light-absorbing quality, leaving observers entranced and slightly unnerved. It was simultaneously terrifying and gorgeous, an otherworldly sight that drew attention and curiosity in equal measure. But her hair wasn't the only unique aspect of her appearance.

Her skin was like porcelain, pale and flawless, with a subtle luminescence that seemed to glow from within. Her lips were naturally red and full, with a hint of temptation that drew the eye. Her eyes, which appeared larger than usual, had a child-like innocence to them, accentuated by her thin eyebrows and long, luxurious eyelashes. She had a haunting, in-born beauty that didn't require any makeup to enhance it. She exuded an aura of mystique and allure, captivating those who gazed upon her with her ethereal appearance. It was as if she had stepped out of a fairy tale or a dream, an enigmatic presence that left others spellbound in her presence.

In a word, ‘mesmerizing’.

She stood slightly taller than the other women present, wearing the same school uniform as everyone else but somehow making it look better. The blue of the uniform appeared darker on her, for no other reason than she was wearing it. It seemed like she excelled at everything she did, effortlessly standing out from the crowd with an air of elegance and confidence.

The outfit was a uniform style that resembled the sailor outfits popular in Japan. All six girls present were dressed in similar attire, with blue jackets, ribbons tied around their necks that matched the color of their eyes, and a light blue skirt that extended past their knees. They wore stockings that went up past their knees, with long sleeves and high collars covering their skin, leaving only their heads and hands exposed. It was modest and conservative attire.

The exception to the uniform attire was the black-haired beauty in front of Ryan, who wore soft velvet gloves that matched her striking ruby-red eyes. Said eyes were now fixed upon Ryan with murderous rage. As he looked her up and down, a single word popped into his head. He might not be well-versed in Japanese culture, but he recognized a stereotype when he saw it.

~Villainess.~

As Ryan observed the scene, he realized that there were five facing off against one. The lone individual, a young girl, seemed to be standing submissively, shoulders pulled in, clutching her books protectively. Her long blond hair fell in front of her face, attempting to conceal her eyes, but it was ineffective in hiding their striking beauty. Her eyes shone like yellow diamonds, gleaming with a brilliant and precious intensity.

The other five turned to face Ryan, their attention now diverted by his sudden arrival, disrupting the unfolding drama. The lady he had bumped into was first among equals, evident from the deference shown by the others through their body language. Two women stood to her left, while two stood to her right, forming a protective formation around her. Their distinct hairstyles served as defining traits to tell them apart. There was one with cotton candy pink hair, another with earthy green locks, a third with spiky blue hair, and the last with shiny silver tresses.

Exactly like his.

Ryan was about to speak, but before he could utter a word, the villainess took a step forward and slapped him hard across the face. Ryan kept his head turned in the direction of the slap, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance. "A bit excessive, but I suppose I had that coming," He muttered under his breath. Just then, the girl with silver hair and blazing sapphire eyes stepped up and slapped Ryan on the other cheek, forcefully turning his head in the opposite direction.

"Not sure about that one."

The girl with silver hair spoke through gritted teeth, her sapphire eyes blazing with anger. "Oh, sweet Mira, what fresh embarrassment have you come to inflict on me, BROTHER?" Her words were laced with disdain and loathing, emphasizing the familial connection with utter contempt.

Ryan shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "That depends," he said, pointing casually at the silver-haired girl. "Are you going to pull my finger?" The other five girls blinked and stared at Ryan in confusion, clearly not understanding the reference. The sixth girl, the one who was being targeted, was another matter. The blonde involuntarily burst out laughing for a second before covering her mouth in an attempt to stop making noise. The villainess spun her head around to glare at the girl. The girl had her hand pressed over her mouth to keep from making any further noise, but clearly thought this was hysterical.

Ryan's casual demeanor and brazen remark left the five girls momentarily speechless. The silver-haired girl's anger turned into a mix of disbelief and indignation, while the others exchanged startled glances. The black-haired girl blinked in surprise at Ryan's boldness, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks.

Before anyone could speak Ryan continued, "Ahhhhh! This chick gets it!" he said with a wink, "How you doin', Hot stuff?" He then turned to the other five girls, waving a finger at them, "These bitches bothering you?"

The villainess and her entourage were utterly shocked by Ryan's choice of words. Even the blonde girl seemed taken aback. Ryan's sister, in particular, raised her hand to slap him once more, but something was different this time. Her hand moved in slow motion as if time itself had slowed down. Ryan blinked in surprise, taking in the surreal scene around him.

He looked around and realized that everything was moving at a snail's pace. Even the other girls' reactions, the tension in the air, and the impending slap were unfolding in slow motion. Ryan's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. A bemused smile crept onto his face as he glanced back at the approaching hand, still moving in slow motion towards him. ~Bullet time?~

Ryan found it ludicrously easy to catch her hand, spin her around, and put her in an arm lock. The other girls, including the villainess, were taken aback by Ryan's sudden display of supernatural speed, jumping back in surprise. His sister yelped in pain as her arm was twisted behind her back, and she struggled to break free from his grip.

Ryan pulled to put her off balance as he spoke into her ear, "Do that again and next time I’ll break it off." He stepped back with a yank and let go. His sister flailed for an unsupported second before landing unceremoniously on her ass. She let out another yelp and stared at Ryan in a fashion that appeared like she couldn't make up her mind to be shocked, afraid, or enraged.

Ryan stepped past the five, completely disregarding their shocked expressions, as he smoothly approached the blonde girl, "Love to stay and chat, as you are DEFINITELY in my strike range, but I'm wanted for assault and have to flee. If I beat the rap-" He continued in a low voice, "and you're into bad boys-" He winked, "look me up!" Ryan leaned in close, taking one of her hands, "The name's Reed." After briefly kissing her hand, he added as an afterthought, "Apparently."

Ryan sprinted down the walkway, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he made a beeline toward the tree line in the distance. As he ran, trying his best to use all available cover, he mused briefly about the encounter. Ryan couldn't shake off the feeling of déjà vu, ~Why did all that seem so familiar?~

----------------------------------------

The six girls stood in stunned silence as Ryan sprinted away. The unexpected turn of events had left them all bewildered, unsure of how to react. The first to finally speak was the villainess, "Lily?"

The beauty with silver hair snapped her attention to the leader of her clique, "Yes, Lady Lilith Darkwold?" The way her voice wavered showed that she was more than terrified that everything was going to go very, very wrong.

Lilith cleared her throat and tried to sound as dignified as possible to cover up her true feelings, "That... was your brother... correct?" Lily slowly got up while nodding. Both stared off in the direction Ryan had gone.

"Yes. THAT was my cowardly, meek, and worthless half..." Lily furrowed her eyebrows tightly, "Brother."

A small crowd approached from a distance, led by a well-dressed figure who seemed determined to catch up with the group of girls and perhaps continue chasing Ryan. Their intentions were unclear, and the girls exchanged wary glances as they waved to get attention. Lilith, however, had her mind set on exacting revenge on Ryan, and she saw an opportunity in this approaching group. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she calculated her plan. These people might just be the means to exact a pound of flesh from Ryan's hide. She braced herself, ready to take advantage of the situation, regardless of the strangers' purpose in approaching them.

The blonde girl, momentarily overlooked by the commotion, was lost in her reverie. Her brow furrowed as she gnawed on her thumbnail, deep in thought, trying to make sense of the recent turn of events. Her lips moved as she muttered a simple observation under her breath, piecing together the puzzle in her mind.

"That wasn't supposed to happen."