Once again, the man found himself alone in the darkness. At least he wasn’t drowning anymore. His entire body ached. In the dim light of the cube, he examined his arms and found them already littered with dozens of violet spots. Still in hilf crouching position he pulled his jacket and his shirt over his head. Finally able to straighten his back again he did so, lotting out a weak groan as he felt the bones in his back crack. The last hour had not been good for his long term health, though falling for minutes and then almost drowning rarely was. The words decompression sickness fluttered through his mind but he ignored it. He was alive and mostly well for now and that was that.

He took off his pants and twisted them, creating a trickle of water falling to the ground. Wherever it hit the grass it bent the straws like it was pushing them down. After he was finished with all his clothes he put them back on, feeling a dozen pounds lighter. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head when he realised his clothes were completely dry.

He furrowed his brow. That wasn’t normal. No matter how much he wrung out his clothes, the fabric would still hold some moisture, as long as the liquid was actually water. In some aspects it behaved like it, in others it didn’t. He bit his lips. All in all it was very strange. Considering the substance's immense weight, its density should’ve been too high for him to sink to the ground so fast. Also the way it had broken his, at least one minute long fall, without him being reduced to a splash of blood was straight up impossible. Same went for the way the fisher had walked over the fluid like it was solid ground. Some things in this world apparently decided to ignore the laws of physics. Had the water maybe evaporated in the short time he had laid them out in front of him?

….

Evaporated.

Another word that he used in his trail of thought without being sure what it meant.

No wait, he was.

Turning from a liquid into a gas because of excess energy.

But then why was the water as warm, if not warmer, as the surrounding air?

In an attempt to make sense of his situation his mind came up with more and more ideas, concepts and solutions that he felt like he had always known, but simply forgotten. It was like he was digging out the scorched ruins of a library to find a trail of books he had already read.

Unfortunately every answer he remembered brought another dozen questions. Some of them he could answer right away, like he had memoriezed the information, others demanded a moment of thought or a bigger leap in logic to explain.

After half an hour of pondering about the makeup of water and gravity, another world he had to rummage his brain to find the meaning of, he stopped. His head was filled with knowledge and ideas and he knew that there was very much still to uncover, but no matter how often or from which angle he approached the question to his name or origin his normally so loud mind suddenly went silent. He felt like he had lost something he needed to regain.

He sighed. By all accounts, not even half of the things he had just witnessed made any sense but apparently he had to deal with it. What was that weird guy's problem with his eyes? How was he even still alive, considering the time he had fallen? What was that ‘water’ and how was his saviour walking on said water? His eyes flickered to the glowing cubic that was providing him with light. And what the hell was that thing?

Slowly he leaned down and reached for it, half expecting his fingers to touch nothing, but then his hand closed around the cube. So it wasn’t pure light, he thought, lifting the cube of the ground. Of course a cube of pure light would be as impossible as one that levitated and chased someone, but in this world it was apparently normal. The cube was light as a feather and cool to the touch, almost like it was trying to match his fingers' temperature.

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Interesting. Normally, producing this much light would generate heat, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. For some reason, the man was impressed. He let go of the cube, and it fell to the ground.

“Hmm,” he murmured into the darkness. “Levitate?” he said, but the cube stayed on the ground.

“Levitate!” He tried more firmly, but the cube remained unimpressed and on the ground.

The man grabbed the cube again and inspected it closely. "Is there a trick to this?" he muttered, turning the cube back and forth. His examination produced the world-shaking revelation that staring into a light for too long hurt his eyes. He blinked until the dancing lights went away before bringing the cube to his ear and shaking. Nothing.

"Hmmm," the man muttered to himself. Guess that is as much as I will find out for now. He turned his head to look in the direction the fisher had pointed earlier. Whatever lay there was completely hidden in darkness. A twinge of worry crept over him. If there was something dangerous out there, it could easily spot him because of the light in his hand. He frowned, his mind racing with possibilities, all of them negative. A realisation dawned on him. Was he a worryward? He shook his head to get the unproductive thought out of his mind.

Worrying in this situation was normal. The glowing cube made him as conspicuous as a peacock, but without it, he wouldn’t be able to see anything.

As if sensing his concern, the light from the cube began to dim on its own, casting softer, less conspicuous shadows around him. He looked down at the now barely glowing cube in his hand. Had he just done that? Suddenly, all his worries were silenced.

Bright, he thought. As bright as possible. A glowing ball of fire in a blue ocean full of white islands came to mind. Instantly, the world in front of him exploded into light. A sharp pain shot through his eyes, coursing through his optic nerves into his brain. He screamed, stumbled backward, and fell to the ground.

“Fuck, fuck… fuck,” he muttered and rolled around to press his head against the soothingly cool ground. Despite having his eyes closed, bright lights danced in his vision, changing colors and intensity. Tears welled up under his eyelids, mixing with what he still hoped to be morning dew. He clutched his head, trying to block out the throbbing pain that seemed to reverberate through his entire skull. It felt like molten fire had replaced his eyes, burning relentlessly and making him wish for the darkness again. The worst thing about it was that it was entirely his own fault, thus he had no one he could blame or insult for it. This was the single most stupid idea he has ever had. Children that touched hot stovetop at least had their youth as an excuse, but apparently he just had to accept that he was stupid. Or at least that he sometimes forgot to think.

After what felt like hours the light under his eyelids retreated into the darkness again, taking most of the pain with it. Rubbing his eyes he looked at the cube again. Its light had become nothing but a dim glow again, barely enough to illuminate the man's hand. Angrily he grabbed the thing that almost blinded him and stuffed it into his jacket's left pocket.

He had two options at this point.

Try to make this thing shine brighter again and wander a completely dark whatever was around him with a target on his back or wait for the world to become brighter on its own.

For some reason he was sure it would. Day and Night. Another concept he had forgotten.

He took a few steps in the direction the fisher had pointed him to get away from the shore and sat down. Even if it didn’t become brighter on its own, he could use some rest. Despite being only awake for an hour, every single cell in his body hurt. His bones ached from withstanding the insane pressure of the water and his ego hurt from getting carried like a child and almost blinding himself.

Laying down he closed his eyes, which changed nothing considering he was surrounded by nothing but darkness. It took a while until he finally fell asleep, time which he spent wrestling some more information out of his brain. At some point his breathing slowed down, his shoulders relaxed and he fell asleep.

After a few hours, a scream tore him out of his slumber.