Jason was startled awake by a deep booming noise, a light flaring under his desk chair, brilliant blue-white, an enormous hand reaching up around him. He leapt from the chair, sending it flying out of the magical ring that now encompassed him. However, as he gained his feet, the ghostly fingers closed in, grasping him and dragging him through the floor, his last sight being of his room’s blue plaster ceiling, fading into pure white.

White bled to black in his mind’s eye, a deep void of unconsciousness. A strange sense of falling, but without wind against his back or rushing in his ears. He seemed to fall through infinity itself, unable to see his own body in front of him, or even feel it. Gradually, this strange sensation faded, blending into concrete against his left side, lying down, curled up on the ground. Sound came next, murmured voices.

“-ht, I summoned a monster, not just some sack of shit. Go warm up, I can’t afford to lose more of you to failed attempts. DamnitdamnitDAMNIT!”

A fist thumped against a wooden table, the dull thud and grunt of pain clear. It was soon followed by further thumping, from a different direction, more distant.

“RPF, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

“What? How d- DAMNIT! VINNY, TAKE CARE OF THEM!”

“Yessir!” A girl now, with a nasal accent that doesn’t quite match anything he’s heard before.

Someone running up stairs, behind Jason. It was all so confusing, and he felt so tired, as if he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes were already closed, it would be so easy to… no. He couldn’t fall asleep, or maybe he already was asleep, and this was a dream?

Another loud thump of body against wood, but this came with an actual shriek rather than a grunt, someone got thrown to the ground, or against a wall?

“STAY DOWN!”

“HEL-”

The girl’s voice gets cut off by another thump.

Finally, Jason forced his eyes open, finding himself in a cellar of some sort, wooden stairs leading up out of the corner of his eye, a man hunched over a desk in front of him, taking a knife to the surface, grunting in obvious frustration and effort as he scratched his design into the wood. A pair of men in leather jackets with some sort of padding rushed down the stairs, carrying pistols that they level at the man at the desk. One glanced at Jason, but he was otherwise ignored.

“HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD, TURN AROUND SLOWLY.”

“Fuck you, fuck you ALL!”

The man whirled, raising his arms to reveal an ornate revolver in his left hand, his eyes shining with blue-white light as he shouts something unintelligible. Before he could finish, it was cut off by a pair of white orbs striking his chest, absorbing into the fabric of his shirt and causing him to fall over, stunned, but apparently alive.

Finally coming to grips with the situation, Jason attempted to rise, but found his body not responsive. His muscles were stiff, like he’d been lying on the stone floor for an entire day. Moreover, as he began to take stock of his other aches and pains, he noted an empty stomach and a dry throat, how long had he been passed out here, what was this strange dream anyways? For it surely had to be a dream, right?

The click of cuffs brought him back to the situation, the two in leather coats seemed to be arresting the other man, now unconscious. Another trio of officers stomped down, all wearing matching leather vests, maybe this strange delusion’s version of a police uniform. And as Jacob stared, the absurdities simply increased. At least two of the new officers were bear people. Muscular, covered in fur, with muzzles, round ears on the tops of their heads, one “bald”, the other with a shock of black hair slicked back. The fur on both of them was a matching shade of light brown, not quite tan, but light enough that the color was obvious. And they had claws on their hands, not just fingers! It was so bizarre that Jacob forced his arms to move, rubbing at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t simply looking at a pair of hairy men. When the scene in front of him failed to change, he let his arms drop, lying still on the floor and trying to force his legs to obey.

Occasionally, as the police murmured to themselves, they would point at him. It was only after the third wild gesture from one of the bears that Jacob realized they were arguing over what to do with him, as other officers trampled down the stairs to retrieve their prisoner. Even knowing they were discussing him, the teen found it impossible to listen in, the mumbling almost unnatural in it’s quiet. Slowly, he rose to his feet, wobbling a bit as he brushed off his dirty white t-shirt and jeans.

“Hey” Jason groaned out, his throat still hoarse. One of the bears -given the badge on his vest, perhaps this guy was the chief?- turned towards him, fiddling with a ring on his finger.

“Stay right there kid, we’re gettin to ya.”

“Where am I?” It was the first question that popped into his head, rather than try to understand the bear-people or the streaks of light that came out of guns instead of bullets, or the spectral arm that had reached up and pulled him here, somehow.

“I can answer that, at least. You’ve been taken by a nutjob with…” Another officer handed him a laptop, interrupting him. Again he fiddled with the ring, and things went to quiet murmuring. If he didn’t know better, Jason would almost think the ring was muffling them, but even in a dream, he wouldn’t think to come up with that, right?

So many questions, and his stomach growled again, reminding him that he evidently hadn’t eaten or drank anything in this strange delusion. The officer bear winced, though it was more difficult to make out given the fur, and turned back to Jason, giving his ring a twist with his thumb.

“Head upstairs, there’s a couch you can rest on while we contact medical services to examine you.”

The teen nodded, stumbling towards the stairs and gripping the banister tight as he ascended into a fairly modern suburban house, though it was on the small side, only four rooms and one story not counting the basement. White plaster walls everywhere, no sign of wood except in a single coffee table, which sat before a plain black couch. More police in leather vests were tearing the house apart, apparently continuing the investigation. Another officer had tagged along behind Jason, hauling the unconscious prisoner up to hand off to another pair -one a tiger-person, with white fur striped black and unnaturally blue eyes- at which point the human was dragged from the house, to a waiting car outside. There was a rabbit-girl in that car already, perhaps the girl he’d heard before.

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

“Come on sonny, let’s sit you down and get your statement while we wait for EMS.”

It took a moment to realize the man was talking to him, as Jason looked up at the man’s face, he found himself nodding along, almost falling into the couch as the officer pulled a smartphone from his pocket to record the interview.

“Alright, state your name for the record.”

“Jason Reider”

“Good, I’m Officer Ban, now tell me, just what happened here?”

“I, erm, I don’t know, sir. I was sitting at home when a big glowing hand grabbed me and pulled me through the floor to this place, the next thing I knew you guys were busting in and and the guy at the desk was screaming about something going wrong?”

“Can you describe the “glowing hand” in detail?”

“It was, um, whiteish blue, like ice? Kinda transparent, but when it grabbed me it felt like cold metal, and I couldn’t get free of it.”

Ban nodded, frowning slightly.

“Definitely magic then, where was your home, was it somewhere in Rupture?”

“Rupture?”

The officer’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the question.

“Oh boy, son, can you tell me what year it is?”

“Uh, 2019?”

From the way Ban’s expression darkened, Jason figured that for whatever reason he was wrong about the year.

“It’s 398 P.E, Jason. We haven’t used Common Era in nearly four centuries.” The blonde man paused the recording from his phone, confusion and worry clearly visible in his face. “And 1 P.E was around 2018 in Common Era terms, so it’s unlikely you’d be… what in the name of god did that man do?”

Officer Ban quickly stood, tucking away his phone. “I’m sorry, we’ll get this sorted out, I need to speak to my superiors.”

He scrambled back down the stairs, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts, staring out the window towards what initially seemed to be an ordinary suburb. What was Rupture? Just where was he? Was this really just a dream? He felt cold inside, considering that last question. If this wasn’t a dream, how could he explain the strange hand, or the lights instead of bullets? Or the bear people?

“Sir, sir?”

Jason looked up, snapping out of his exhausted reverie, there was a dove in front of him now, head cocked, wearing a dark red outfit that looked vaguely like a medical uniform and a blood pressure gauge hanging around her neck instead of a stethoscope. Seeing the bird head on a humanoid body reminded him that this was most likely a dream, and he relaxed slightly.

“What?”

“I’d like to check your vitals and perform a basic healing spell, is this okay?”

“Um, sure.” Jason nodded, allowing her to wrap the pressure gauge around his arm and check his vitals. 123/75, apparently he was “okay, but stressed”, and as he’d suspected, direly needed water and food. The former was at least easy to find, the dove handing him a water bottle to nurse while she placed a hand on his chest.

“Restore”

Her eyes flared blue-white, a big difference from the grey they had before, and the gentle ache from a few scrapes on Jacob’s side vanished, only noticeable now that they were gone. The air around her hand had chilled, her palm cold and coated in a barely visible layer of frost that she casually flicked off with a shake of the wrist, stepping back.

“Alright, sir, is there anything else I can do to help you?”

“Um, no, I’m fine, thank you.”

Nodding, the dove headed back out of the house, leaving him to the police once more.

“Jason.”

His head snapped up, though he soon realized it was simply Officer Ban again.

“Yes?”

The older man took a seat next to him, palms pressed together in his lap and taking deep breaths, as if preparing to, well, tell someone the bad news.

“I’m not quite sure how to explain this. It barely makes sense to us, even with a Scry -to see exactly what happened- it’s confusing. From what we understand, the man we arrested here today was attempting to summon monsters from another world, but he failed for some reason, instead summoning you, and nearly killing his assistant in the process with the Burnout. The confusing part is that this should be impossible, especially with only two people. Magic simply cannot do that sort of thing, as far as we’re aware.”

That only seemed to add to the pile of questions that were bunching up inside of Jason’s head, but he tried to ignore most of them, focusing on the only two that really mattered.

“So this isn’t a dream?”

“No. It may not be your reality, but it’s ours.”

“What does that mean for me?”

“It means that, near as we can tell, you can’t simply be sent home.”

“Because it’s impossible, or because you aren’t willing to try?”

“Because it should be impossible, and no one wants to risk their lives trying, I’m sorry.”

They sat there for a long, silent moment, Jason contemplating these new facts, slowly being consumed with emotion. When it finally forced its way out, hot tears boiling up in his eyes and trailing down his face, he couldn’t stop it. Clutching his head in his hands, he wept. Even if this was still a dream -and that hope was shrinking quickly- it was a nightmare. Ban seemed uncertain what to do, and sat awkwardly, waiting for Jason to pull himself together. It took longer than either of them would have liked, other officers trailing out of the basement while Jason broke down, their work apparently done in this house.

Eventually, however, he dried his eyes, red and puffy, and looked towards Officer Ban.

“So what do I do?”

“Well… there are clauses in our laws for this sort of thing, usually for victims of trafficking, which, I suppose, this is simply an extreme case of. We can get you citizenship in a month, and in the meantime give you a work visa and a small bit of funding. It’s not much, but it will keep you off the streets long enough to try and sort yourself out.”

It felt like whining, but he had to ask anyways.

“I’m only just turned eighteen, how am I supposed to just… get a job or whatever!?”

“I can’t help you there, but know that there’s plenty of stuff that needs done in the city that doesn’t take very much training. It’s not exactly fun work, but it pays the bills and it’s usually easy, they’ll even pay for your mana on the job if you’re using something like telekinesis.”

“So what, anyone can use magic?”

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t- well, it’s on the citizenship exam, so you’ll learn about it just going through the two-week course.”

“That doesn’t help me now, though.”

“You don’t really need it now. What you likely need is some food and the funds, though, so come along.”

“Where to?”

“The precinct, we’re going to get you that visa and funding, and a meal. No use waiting around, right?”

Ban tried to smile, but it seemed like the fake smile of someone who’d seen too many people hurt. Jason made his own attempt, but even wiping his eyes again, the knowledge that he might never see anyone from home ever again… it burned him up inside.

Still, he’d likely have time for another breakdown at the precinct, and it would be better to do that with money in his pocket and a full stomach, right? So, standing, he allowed Officer Ban to lead him out the door, and into the new world.