Strange cackling echoed from within a small house in a low-income neighborhood. Strangely enough, it sounded like a stereotypical cartoon villain laugh; prideful and arrogant but also a bit unhinged. On the sidewalk out front, a few teenagers who happened to be walking by halted and ended their conversation. They stared at the house with confused gazes.
“Ain’t that where the crazy dude lives?” One of them asked with a raised brow.
Another teenager nodded and answered, “Yeah. I think he finally lost his last marble.”
The other two laughed at the off-handed comment, and then the three of them continued on their way.
Inside the house, a man haphazardly spun around in his office chair laughing. Almost a full minute passed before he finally fell silent, but his chapped lips remained curled into a satisfied smile. A rosy tint appeared on his otherwise gaunt and pale cheeks. Thick purple bags under his eyes took attention away from his multi-colored eyes that contained a gradient of blue to green to amber.
“Ha! Only five more chapters ‘til it’s over!” The man exclaimed while stretching his arms upward. His fingers twitched as he tried to relax his tired forearms after his recent twelve hour writing session. Moments later, he lowered his arms and looked at the words sprawled out on his computer screen. Most of them blurred together into an illegible jumble of black and white thanks to staring at a screen for so long. His satisfied smile cooled into a bittersweet one.
“It’s almost over, huh…” He mumbled. His eyes glanced toward the window. Rays of warm evening sunlight poured into his dingy little office. Only the sound of crickets outside disturbed the ensuing silence.
Eventually, he sighed, shook his head, and said, “Maybe I should go buy some ice cream to celebrate. Haven’t done that since hitting chapter five hundred a couple years ago.”
The man grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left the house for the first time in two weeks. Along the way to the nearby gas station, he checked his bank account. Instantly, his brows creased.
“Guess I’m sticking to ramen for a few weeks now,” He grumbled.
With a scowl on his face, he eventually entered the gas station and purchased a tub of ice cream. For the sake of his mental well-being, he ignored the fact that his unfriendly and disheveled demeanor frightened the young cashier in the process.
Once outside again, he pulled out his phone to check for new comments on his story. His right eye twitched when he saw the first one. The second comment made him chuckle. Just like that, his emotions and facial expressions changed drastically every few seconds, prompting the few people near him to keep their distance.
Upon reaching a crosswalk, he stopped and waited for the light to change. While waiting, his eyes landed on a comment that was quickly garnering massive amounts of both upvotes and downvotes. He actually recognized the reader’s username, Constellation of Dust, since the reader posted ‘Thanks for the chapter’ on every chapter ever since the first one dropped. On top of that, he was also the artist who drew most of the concept art for the story and characters over the years. Any comments from him couldn’t just be tossed under the rug like most others.
[I’ve stuck with Calamity and Conquest these past eight years ever since the first chapter came out. It’s been a fun ride, but I always felt the story never reached its full potential. Author, I’m glad you made it this far, and I look forward to the ending, but I look forward to seeing further growth from you in the future, and a more complete story to go with it.]
The worn-out author sighed and read the comment multiple times before the light changed. Barely recognizing his surroundings when glancing both ways, he crossed the road while lost in thought. The panicked voices behind him didn’t even register in his mind.
Next thing he knew, heavy metal slammed into him from the side. Time slowed down to a crawl.
His brain lurched into high gear. Visions of his past flitted through his mind in an instant, though most of it consisted of a computer screen. Then, it stopped.
All of a sudden, he felt bones cracking within his body. Sharp pain in his chest and abdomen nearly knocked him unconscious. He finally heard the shouting behind him.
Glancing sideways while flailing through the air, he finally saw the taco truck that hadn’t slowed down at all. He even saw the driver fast asleep with his head resting on the steering wheel.
Then, his body smacked the pavement. His skull whipped downward and smashed against the hard asphalt. The world darkened. Only one thing passed through his mind as pain, sight, and sound faded away.
I guess there’s worse ways to die.
----------------------------------------
A throbbing pain near the back of his skull dragged the author’s consciousness back from a sea of nothingness. Bright white light prevented him from opening his eyes as though he had been stuck underground for several days. A sterile scent of chemicals tickled his nostrils. Soft bedding cushioned his sore body, and warm sheets protected him from the chill of the thoroughly air-conditioned room. Muddled thoughts swirled in his brain as he tried to make sense of the situation.
Did I survive?
Eventually, he forced his eyes to flutter open. A thin layer of crust flaked off his eyelashes. After his eyes adjusted to the strange floating light above his bed, he glanced around the room. Strange equipment surrounded him. Robotic arms that looked strangely lifelike aside from the chromatic coating and complicated gear joints were attached to the wall behind his bed in resting positions. The wall itself had all kinds of monitors, devices, and fluid containers attached to it. Not far away, he saw the side profile of a woman with short black hair dressed in tight-fitting white smocks that had blue lights embedded in the material. The thick leathery material of the smocks had a smooth surface free of wrinkles. Completely oblivious to him, the woman carefully changed out an empty fluid container.
“What in the world?” He squeaked out in a raspy voice.
“Oh? You’re awake?” The woman exclaimed while facing him with widened eyes. Then, she calmed herself, smiled politely, and said, “Lie still for a while. I’ll go grab your doctor for you.”
Before the author could say anything, the woman trotted out of the room at a speed that shouldn’t be possible for a human. It felt more like watching a deer prancing away from a predator.
“Wait…” He groaned while weakly attempting to stretch his arm outward without much success. Unfortunately, the woman who seemed like some sort of nurse was long gone. He sighed and looked at the ceiling.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Is this some sort of hospital? He wondered. That nurse looked surprisingly young, like a girl just out of high school. Maybe she’s an intern?
While lost in thought, his gaze landed on the window to his right. Instantly, his eyes widened. Beyond the window, he saw all sorts of buildings constructed from metal alloys. The surfaces of the structures directly outside his window had surfaces as sleek as polished obsidian. Some buildings further in the distance on a hill were built with a more traditional structure that made each building look like a work of art that had been crafted under the deft hands of master craftsmen. Other buildings beyond that followed simple designs that barely differed from buildings in modern metropolises. Many of the nicer buildings garnered attention with intricately detailed designs on the walls that looked like ancient hieroglyphics. On the other hand, the buildings became smaller and grungier beyond the nearby infrastructure before turning into slums at the outskirts under the shadow of a tall perimeter wall built from a similar material as the metal alloy buildings nearby.
However, none of these buildings garnered much of his attention. Instead, he looked at a large area devoid of buildings. Juxtaposing the urban cityscape surrounding it, a natural park area full of greenery filled the space. In the center, an enormous tree towered into the sky like a mountain, its canopy rising far above any building. Golden leaves swayed in the gentle night’s breeze. Lustrous bark the color of moonstone covered the exterior of its trunk and branches. Small orange dots floated in the air amidst its branches. Numerous large birds that looked like albatrosses with plumage more colorful than a parrot fluttered in flocks around the tree while avoiding the orange dots that looked small from a distance.
“No way…” The man gasped, his voice still raspy and quiet. “Is that… the Great Spirit Tree?”
He couldn’t believe the foriegn mix of fantasy and advanced technology outside the window. His heart thumped loudly behind his ribcage, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The scene looked exactly like what he had imagined the human capital in his story would look like.
Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?
After a brief struggle, he raised a bony hand to his chest. He closed his eyes and focused on his heartbeat. Aside from his trembling muscles that felt weakened or the throbbing at the back of his skull that was already dissipating, his body felt fine. There was no fever, no chills, and no confusion. His mind was completely lucid.
Opening his eyes again, he dragged his arm off his chest and looked outside again. He stared at the floating orange orbs dancing between the branches of the golden-leaved tree. The tree looked exactly like how he imagined the unique magical tree would look, and those orange orbs were a perfect manifestation of the magical fruits he had come up with that aided humanity in its struggle for survival. Even though the sky was dark, he could see a large portion of the layout of the city thanks to the light generated by the fruits as they floated about like little fireflies without straying too far from the branches.
This can’t be real, right? He asked himself, not that he would receive an answer from anywhere.
Almost subconsciously, he rubbed his fingers on the hospital bed. The smooth texture of linen calmed his nerves enough for him to take a deep breath and exhale his anxiousness away.
Shortly afterward, a man wearing black smocks with the symbol of a golden oak leaf emblazoned on the chest area entered the room through the electric sliding door alongside the nurse who had run off earlier. The doctor’s black hair was neatly trimmed into a combover, and his amber-colored eyes stared at his patient with genuine concern. Even when wearing loose smocks, his firm musculature showed through.
“Aaron?” The man asked. His voice was bassy, gentle, and soothing to the soul.
Aaron’s brows furrowed.
Is my name the same here?
Noticing Aaron’s strange reaction, the doctor continued, “I am Doctor Hetke, one of the healing mages here at Osson Hospital. How are you feeling?”
Raising his brows, Aaron stared at the doctor. His lips twitched as he tried to hold back from making any excessive reaction. Struggling against his natural instincts proved difficult since the Doctor Hetke walking toward him looked exactly like the official drawings of the character from his story. Although not a terribly important character plot-wise, Aaron made sure to give the character plenty of chances to shine as a combat healer since his character traits and appearance had been based off of the childhood doctor he had fond memories of.
Not wanting to come across as rude because of everything going on in his head, Aaron forced out the few words, “Doctor? What’s my last name?”
Doctor Hetke raised a brow and paused for a moment. His eyes strayed over Aaron’s bandaged limbs and forehead before answering, “Wright. Your name is Aaron Wright.”
“...I see.”
So my name is the same here, Aaron thought to himself while watching a hologram screen sprout up from a black metallic wristband on the doctor’s forearm. The wristband was laced with hieroglyphic-esque symbols similar to the ones on the buildings outside, though they differed greatly in size, complexity, and shape. Words etched themselves onto the screen that looked like a notepad, though all of the letters were blurred in Aaron’s sight. He inwardly noted that the usage and privacy settings on AR-COs, the wrist-born computers he came up with, were the same as in his story. Only the one wearing the device would be able to use it. Looking at his arms, he didn’t see an AR-CO of his own. Pursing his lips, he wondered whether he was too poor to afford one or if the hospital was simply hanging onto it for him.
Or maybe it broke from me getting in an accident on this side, too.
“What do you remember before coming here?” Doctor Hetke asked while sitting on a stool next to the bed. His question pulled Aaron out of his observations.
Hesitating for a moment, Aaron locked eyes with the character he had created with painstaking care all those years ago. A warmth filled his heart as though he was looking at a child of his own. Of course, he never had kids, so he could only assume it was a similar feeling. Then, he closed his eyes and mumbled, “I don’t remember much.”
Doctor Hetke’s forehead wrinkled as his eyes stared back at Aaron with a concerned look. He made another note on the screen generated by the AR-CO that registered his thoughts and intentions. Then, he sighed and said in a resigned tone full of guilt, “Although our medical procedure saved your broken bones and organs, many mental illnesses are still hard to treat, especially amnesia. We’ll need to run some diagnostic tests, then perhaps do some occupational therapy depending on how much you remember. For now, make sure to get lots of rest. We’ll also bring you food that is easy to digest since you’ve been unconscious for several days. We’ll work you back into a normal diet over the next few days. Any questions or concerns?”
In response, Aaron shook his head.
“I see. Is there anything you would like us to bring along with the food?”
Closing his eyes, Aaron let his head sink deep into his pillow while he pondered on Doctor Hetke’s question for a few moments. Thinking that he still needed to get a grasp on his situation, he opened his eyes again, pointed at Doctor Hetke’s AR-CO, and quietly answered, “Do I have one of those?”
“Well… you did, but it broke in the accident.”
“I see. Maybe some books about recent history and events, then.”
Doctor Hetke raised a brow, but then he nodded and said, “Perhaps some books could jog your memory.” Then, he turned toward the nurse and relayed a meal plan to her along with a small list of books to add to a tablet attached to a mechanical limb that was bolted to the side of the bed.
The doctor and nurse pair then exited, leaving Aaron alone with his thoughts. His eyes remained on the closed door for a few minutes. Memories of Doctor Hetke’s appearances in his story passed through his mind multiple times. By the time he came back to himself, his lips were curled into a self-deprecating smile.
From there, he looked outside the window again to stare at the Great Spirit Tree, or the Wishing Tree, as humans took to calling it in his story.
“Such a beautiful sight. Can’t believe I get to see Therasinye with my own eyes,” He mumbled in a raspy voice.
The moment he spoke the name he had given to the Wishing Tree, a shiver shot down his spine, and his skin tingled uncomfortably. It was the same feeling one might get when being followed by a stranger in the middle of the night. Back on Earth, he wouldn’t have put much thought into it, but if this was truly the world he had created…
Somebody's watching me.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked around the room for any anomalies, but he couldn’t see any of the signs he had designed as a flaw of using stealth or invisibility magic. Gradually, the feeling dissipated. Since the sense of danger quickly vanished, he decided to let it go for now. His current self wouldn’t even be able to stop a mosquito, let alone a potential assassin empowered by mana. After a few more seconds, he sighed and turned his gaze back to the Wishing Tree. His gaze lingered on its shimmering golden leaves that were swaying in the breeze until he fell back asleep.