TAP

Startled by the sudden tap, Viga snapped out of his reverie. The familiar surroundings of his office space came into focus. He blinked, readjusting to the reality that surrounded him. The illumination of the faded light from the ceiling shows sign of how the management tried to minimize the expenses casting a gloomy glow on the room.

"Viga, are you with us?" inquired his coworker wearing a puzzled expression. "You've been lost in thought for the past 20 minutes since I arrived. I tried tapping and calling you several times, but you didn't seem to notice."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Just lost in thought," Viga replied, rubbing his eyes as if trying to shake off the remnants of the vivid flashbacks that still lingered in his mind.

His coworker let out a chuckle.

"Must have been some dream. You looked like you were in another world."

Viga smiled, not wanting to share the true nature of his thoughts. The bizarre world, the warmth, the experiments — it all felt too personal, too fantastical to be shared with others. He brushed it off.

"Just pondering over the upcoming quarterly report. You know how it goes."

"Oh, that report. Glad I'm not part of the presentation team. Tough luck for you, though. It's the kind that can make anyone stare into space. Anyway, let's kick off the day," his coworker remarked before heading to his workstation, concluding the conversation.

Viga observed that the conversation had concluded, prompting him to prepare for the day, the memories of his past adventures in the bizarre world lingered, blending with the reality of his life. Little did anyone know about the extraordinary past experiences that unfolded in the hidden corners of Viga's mind. As Viga started his bustling work routine, he couldn't help but carry with him the nostalgia of his adventures in his younger years. The line between the ordinary and the extraordinary blurred in his mind, creating a unique tapestry of experiences that only he could fully comprehend.

However, since that fateful day when he turned sixteen, the dream of the valiant man and his solo adventures to the bizarre world had inexplicably ceased. Viga couldn't help but wonder why. Till this day, he is still wondering why the sudden disappearance of the dream of the valiant man and the inability to travel back to the bizarre world.

Not that he can't, Viga still has the ability to return to the bizarre world, perhaps just to certain parts of it. Just as there was a specific condition required for Viga to be transported to the bizarre world when he possessed that ability, there's also a prerequisite now. This condition coincided with the disappearance of the recurring dream and his capability to embark on solo adventures in the bizarre world, prompting him to wonder if there was a correlation.

At the age of sixteen, after concluding one of his adventures in the Bizarre world, Viga had to await the recurrence of the dream before embarking on another journey. However, during one of the weekly congregation lectures at his local ecclesia, a peculiar incident unfolded. As he listened to the minister's lecture, the surroundings appeared to blur, and he sensed a return to the bizarre world. Yet, the sensation wasn't entirely consistent with the usual experience in the bizarre world.

There was something missing, as if a lot of pieces of the puzzle had been misplaced. Viga found himself in a surreal amalgamation of the bizarre world and the echoes of the reality he knew. The ecclesia's congregation hall stretched and twisted, taking on the dream-like quality of his usual adventures, but an undercurrent of unfamiliarity pulsed through the atmosphere.

Viga, now accustomed to navigating the peculiar landscapes of the bizarre world, sensed the anomaly immediately. The dreamlike quality lacked the usual vividness and coherence, leaving him with a sense of disorientation. The vibrant colors and fantastical elements seemed muted, replaced by a hazy, ethereal overlay that clung to the familiar setting of the ecclesia.

No one was in sight. Viga discovered himself sitting alone in the expansive rows of seats, with even the minister on the podium, delivering the lecture, now absent. The minister's voice became a mere background noise in this strange amalgamation of worlds, echoing in a manner that seemed disjointed and distant. Viga, now caught between two worlds, struggled to discern the purpose of this unusual intersection. Was it a glimpse into a new facet of the bizarre world, or did it signify a merging of his waking and dream states?

The typical attire he wore upon being transported back to the bizarre world had disappeared. It resembled the first time he found himself in this peculiar realm as a child. He was now clad in the same clothes he wore before the transportation.

While attempting to gather more information about his situation, Viga heard a commotion nearby. He focused on pinpointing the source of the disturbance, which seemed to be emanating from outside. Based on the sounds of the commotion, Viga deduced that there was a fight occurring outdoors.

Curiosity piqued, Viga made his way through the ecclesia's halls, following the echoes of the commotion. As he stepped outside, the scene unfolded before him – a clash of conflicting energies, voices raised in distress, and a palpable tension in the air.

In the midst of the altercation, Viga noticed two distinct groups. One seemed to be comprised of ecclesia members, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. The other group, or it would be much better to say, a mass of floating fog that has a grayish color and has a visage of a human wearing a hooded cloak.

Viga observed that he was familiar with many of the ecclesia members, particularly recognizing the elderly gentleman who headed the team of five. This man served as the deputy head of the security department, responsible for ensuring the safety of the local ecclesia. The other four individuals accompanying him were fellow members of the security department.

The clash continue to unfold between the ecclesia members and an enigmatic mass of floating fog. To defend themselves, the security team wielded unconventional armaments that bore a resemblance to tools commonly seen in street altercations—brass knuckles and knives, weapons not typically associated with ecclesia members.

Their fighting style lacked any discernible structure or formal training; it appeared more like a chaotic brawl, akin to a gang assaulting an adversary. However, amidst the apparent lack of systematic approach, their exceptional teamwork stood out prominently. The way they coordinated with each other demonstrated a level of synchronization that hinted at a shared history or a deep understanding of each other's movements. Despite the unorthodox nature of their combat techniques, the unity within the group was unmistakable.

However, it appears that the team is struggling against the mass of floating fog. One of them got struck and thrown back close to Viga, losing his grip on the weapon. With one member incapacitated, the team's coordination began to break down, resulting in a series of unfortunate events. Seeing the situation deteriorating, Viga rushed forward to pick up the weapon dropped by the incapacitated team member.

Before Viga could enter the battle, another member of the five-person team fell, leaving only three to fend off the impending defeat. Fortunately, Viga reached the scene just in time to alleviate some of the pressure. Upon nearing the struggle, he executed a flying kick, uncertain whether it would be effective or if he would simply pass through the fog. To his surprise, the kick landed successfully; the fog, despite its appearance, had substance and was propelled backward by Viga's kick.

"Are you okay?" Viga inquired as soon as he touched the ground.

"Wait, you're that kid Viga? What the heck are you doing here?" one of the members exclaimed in surprise.

“Be careful!” another member shouted, showing his concern and surprised for Viga being here.

“Question later! Keep fighting! Help Viga," the deputy head instructed, noting Viga's ease and the fact that Viga appeared to be more adapted to combat than them.

"Alright," the other two members agreed.

As the situation stabilized somewhat, Viga prepared himself before the fog could recover. He dashed towards the fog and delivered a series of strikes before it could fully regroup. Drawing on the experience he had gained over the past four years in the real world, equivalent to who knows how many years in the bizarre world (as Viga had stopped counting when it reached ten), he swung with practiced precision. The confusing time lapses between his visits to the bizarre world made it challenging for him to keep track of how much time had passed in both realms.

Employing the metal pipe he had grabbed, Viga wielded it as a substitute for his arnis sticks. It had been a considerable duration since he had engaged in a genuine battle with arnis sticks, as he had discovered more effective weapons for his adventures in the bizarre world. Consequently, his arnis sticks had transitioned into decorative items adorning his weapon room. While he continued practicing with arnis sticks in the real world, especially at the martial hall, Viga predominantly favored his newer weapons for actual adventures. Even now, he persistently worked on refining his skills in the martial arts.

Under Viga's lead in the battle, the three remaining members of the security department found themselves relegated to mere spectators. They were unable to join the fray and assist Viga, understanding that their intervention would likely disrupt Viga's flow and prove burdensome to him. Viga exhibited a grace akin to a dancing wind, effortlessly maneuvering around the fog, which, in response, could only sway in accord with the wind.

In a matter of minutes, Viga succeeded in dispersing the fog. Each strike he delivered caused a portion of the fog to dissipate into the air, never to return. This gradual dissolution shrank the fog, rendering it smaller and smaller until it dispersed entirely.

Viga didn't break a sweat; dispatching the fog was effortlessly easy for him. In contrast, the team of five struggled immensely, with two of their members incapacitated.

As the last remnants of the fog vanished, Viga stood amidst the dissipated mist, his weapon held at ease. The remaining three of the team of five, visibly exhausted and battered, approached Viga with a mix of gratitude and awe.

"Thanks, kid. We were about to be in real trouble there," the deputy head of the security department said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Viga nodded in acknowledgment, "No problem. It seems I arrived just in time. What was that fog, anyway?"

The deputy head exchanged glances with the other team members before responding, "We're not entirely sure. It's been appearing randomly in a place that gathers people with the same and strong belief. This is the first time after five years"

Viga, pondering the situation, felt a familiar itch in his mind. Something about this fog seemed connected to his past adventures in the bizarre world. But before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, the deputy head extended a hand.

"I'm Deacon. I head the security here. You must be Viga. Heard a lot about you."

Viga shook Deacon's hand, a sense of camaraderie forming between them.

"Yeah, I've heard about you from my parents as well. Won't you go check on the other two?" Viga asked, hastily introducing himself as "Viga" afterward.

"Don't worry, no part of their bodies has faded. They'll be back on their feet soon, but that fog surely knocked them out," Deacon reassured.

"Is that so?" Viga concluded, drawing a parallel between their condition and his experiences when injured in battle.

For the first time, Viga realized that he wasn't alone in possessing the ability to travel to the bizarre world, or perhaps a part of it. He remained uncertain about how others could navigate between the realms, speculating that there might be specific prerequisites involved. Perhaps he could leverage this newfound knowledge for his own benefit. Unbeknownst to him at that moment, this newfound revelation would impact his future adventures, and the recent solo venture in the bizarre world might turn out to be his last for a considerable duration.

Meanwhile, while Deacon engaged in conversation with Viga, the two remaining team members ventured toward the area where the fog had dissipated, seemingly examining something. Viga took note of their actions but refrained from commenting, choosing instead to observe their activities. Following a thorough inspection of the area where the fog had dissipated, yielding no significant findings, the two individuals proceeded to divide their efforts. They decided to check on the other two team members who had been incapacitated during the encounter.

Deacon proceeded to introduce the other four individuals to Viga. Eric, who had been the first to be knocked out, was being checked on by Felix, while Donito, the second person to be knocked out, was attended to by Alex. As Viga was acquainted with most of them, given the relatively small size of the local ecclesia, mutual recognition or acquaintance was common among its members.

After the brief introduction, Viga prepared to inquire about the circumstances leading to this encounter and his presence there, as he harbored several motives. First, he aimed to conceal his awareness of the bizarre world, opting to feign ignorance. Second, he intended to gather information from them, leveraging the opportunity to enhance his understanding of the recent developments. Third, he cannot think of it now, but he knows that there maybe something more to ask.

Deacon quickly preempted Viga's inquiries upon noticing the questioning expression on his face.

"I understand you have numerous questions, but they will have to wait until we return," Deacon remarked, finalizing the conversation.

After Felix and Alex finished examining the two unconscious team members, they proceeded to pull them towards the ecclesia's door, the same one Viga had exited. They then rejoined Deacon and Viga, preparing themselves once more.

"When one comes, others will follow. Prepare yourselves; this may take us a while," Deacon whispered.

Viga and the other two heard it clearly, and to their ears, it sounded like a warning siren signaling an approaching disaster.