A beautiful girl emerging from a misty lake would say, "Give me back my head!"

From a Dream

Two months ago

Two months ago, it all could have ended. I stared at the defendant's bench where he sat, a wealthy, sick bastard who believed he was entitled to everything. But maybe he wasn't entirely wrong.

The overweight judge read a lengthy verdict, her seven chins swaying in time with her soporific speech. I caught only two words from her monologue.

"...declared innocent."

The bastard with short, red hair, who had robbed my life of all meaning, smiled. I loathed him. However, he taught me a valuable lesson. He made me finally understand that in this life, you can't depend on rules.

I never relied on them before, and I won't in the future.

Five minutes ago

I stood by a massive panoramic window that revealed a view of a pine forest. It wasn't my home, and the scenery wasn't mine to enjoy.

A closer look at the glass would show a reflection of myself - almost thirty years old, with wild hair in every direction, a week's worth of stubble, and wearing a blue jumpsuit with the logo of a lighter brand. None of it belonged to me.

But it was necessary - for the job. I lowered my gaze and examined the large butcher's axe held tightly in my right hand. It was a heavy tool that I had recently tested, and it could easily cleave through a medium-sized bone with one swift strike.

My attention shifted further down the room. In the center of the enormous bedroom, approximately three meters away from the window, there lay a bed with a body next to it, sporting red hair drenched in sweat. He was still breathing. But not for long. I had come to collect a debt, and I was willing to pay with whatever was left of my life and freedom.

When you violate the rules of the entire world, the cost can't be too high. However, I wouldn't mind living a little longer, but fate always has other plans when it's time to go.

I was just about to take a step back from the window when a black shadow emerged in the background of the reddish sunset.

One minute ago

I died. I wished I could erase the last moments of my life from my memory, but it proved impossible. And to make matters worse, I couldn't even die. Truth be told, I'm not sure how the usual process goes, but do souls that have departed their bodies often find themselves suspended in a cloud of darkness?

And then, the darkness started speaking.

"I noticed you."

"I wasn't hiding."

"You wanted to enter my world."

"And who are you, exactly?"

It was a peculiar conversation. Perhaps being rude to the darkness wasn't the wisest idea, but I had an excuse. I suspected I had a hangover or was experiencing hallucinations. Fortunately, the darkness was indifferent to my tone. Unfortunately, it didn't answer my questions.

"Do you want to be my dragon?"

"I don't like lizards."

"My dragons are not lizards. It's just a word. The crucial thing is that they once almost brought peace to the world."

"Nevertheless, I refuse."

The exchange of phrases came to an unexpected end, leaving me surprised by the darkness' offer. It seemed that few souls - or whoever I was now - refused the fate of dragons. But what exactly was a dragon? To me, despite its beautiful name, it was nothing more than a pawn in someone else's hands. I had always been on my own, and the last time I trusted someone else's rules, it did not end well. I had no intention of making the same mistake, even if it meant risking my life. And yet here I was, facing the darkness once more.

But then the darkness revealed that she had only caught me on the way to her world - meaning that it wasn't entirely her decision. There was still a chance for me to escape.

"Very well," my interlocutor said, not pushing me to make a decision or rush.

"May I go?" I asked, though I had no idea where to go or how to do it. All I knew was that I had to get away from this place.

"Go," the darkness replied, without objection. But I knew she was waiting for a chance to strike. "But I'll give you a couple of gifts," she added.

I tried to refuse, knowing that even children knew that gifts from a mysterious voice in books only helped the voice, not the recipient."I don't need them," I said.

But the darkness reminded me that I was going to her world, and that this was the price for letting me through. I had no choice but to accept.

And then she said something that made everything inside me freeze.

"The first gift - you will forget your death. You crave rest - well, I'll give it to you, as much as possible."

"No!" I didn't want to lose that memory, even in this form. But suddenly, everything vanished. I remembered who I was, that I had died, and even that there was a grave reason for it, but nothing more.

"The second gift," the darkness continued, relentless. "My world is cruel. Someone like you cannot survive in it, despite your spark of life."

"What?" I latched onto the unfamiliar word, but again, I was ignored. I wouldn't wish conversing with darkness on anyone - it's a lousy conversationalist. Though a few of the dates I went on in my previous life were even more awkward.

At first, I was bewildered, wondering how I had so suddenly transitioned to such unexpectedly vulgar thoughts, but then I understood. The darkness helped me forget about death, and now, without remembering what had crushed my old life, I felt lighter.

However, if she expected me to agree to a career as a dragon after this, she was mistaken. I still only wanted rest, like...

As I was lost in my thoughts, the darkness interrupted me with its next words. "And that's why my second gift to you is dreams. They will help you discover yourself and understand this world. Although some of the teachers may seem peculiar to you, remember they are the best of the best, and their techniques are effective."

I asked, "What about the third gift?"

I didn't find the talk about dreams interesting, to be honest. It didn't seem like a big deal. At least it didn't sound dangerous.

"It's too early for the third gift. You'll receive it when the time comes," the darkness replied directly to my question, and it was a little unsettling. "For now, just rest and stay alive, my prince."

The word "prince" sent chills down my spine. Especially since I wasn't one! Why did that phrase affect me so much? The only explanation I could think of was that it was connected to my death... Yes, that's what the one who started everything used to call me.

I remembered everything for a brief moment before forgetting it all again.

Suddenly, the darkness began to ripple and then parted.

***

I found myself back in the normal world, raindrops pelting my face and smearing the dirt that caked me from head to toe - from the soles of my boots to the light steel helmet perched on my head. Though I was physically present, my surroundings were far from normal. The world seemed limited by the faint light of a dull oil lamp dangling from a nearby tree, and I knew it was all part of the preparation dream that the darkness had promised me before the new world. As I contemplated this, I suddenly realized that I wasn't alone. Standing beside me was an unfamiliar man, roughly fifty years old, with a square head and a flabby, unremarkable physique. He might have been mistaken for a wise office worker, but for his small, menacing black eyes that scanned the surroundings with such malice that it made me want to flee and hide. So, this was the darkness's idea of the best teacher? "Get a good grip on that sword, boyar," the stranger growled, his lips parting to reveal a cigarette that appeared as if by magic.

The cigarette strangely remained dry despite the rain, much like the Smoker himself, as I had taken to calling him. I couldn't help but wonder if he was a real person or merely a figment of this place.

"The sword..." The Smoker's reminder pulled me back to reality, and I turned to examine the thick steel blade. It was heavy at the base, but lighter at the tip to facilitate swift movements. The blade was crafted from soft steel to prevent breakage upon impact, with sharp edges welded onto the sides. It all felt oddly familiar.

"Excellent, it seems you've decided to become not only an 'igig,' but also a warrior. Now strike. We've covered theory until now, but without learning how to plunge steel into living flesh, it's all for naught."

Suddenly, it clicked. The Smoker was actually instructing someone else, but my dream in the darkness allowed me to partake in this lesson. And once again, I heard that peculiar term - igig. What did it mean? I was determined to find out. I followed the Smoker's pointed finger.

A pig hung between the trees, squealing incessantly. It was still alive - how had I managed to tune out these noises before?

"Why are you standing there like a statue?" The Smoker's voice snapped me out of my reverie like a lash. "Your parents paid for your education, and I will imbue you with the knowledge of how to kill properly - whether you like it or not. Strike."

As the Smoker spoke his command, he appeared behind me so quickly that I barely had time to register his movement. From within the body I inhabited, I felt a sense of awe and a fleeting thought: this is what it means to be a true igig. Suddenly, a sharp sensation touched my neck. Can one die in a dream? I am unsure, but what I do know is that I want to live. Moments like this serve as a reminder of why I no longer wish to engage in dangerous situations. If the darkness had hoped to motivate me, it failed. Let these teachers with their peculiar methods instruct someone else.

"Do not turn around. Strike," the Smoker's words were like needles piercing my brain.

"No," I objected once more. First, with the darkness, and now with this maniac. Yet, in the dream, my words held little meaning.

I refused, and in that instant, the body I was inhabiting took control. Slowly, it approached the hanging carcass and attempted to penetrate it with a single swift blow. I could sense that the aim was to strike the heart and put an end to the animal's torment.

Rather than administering a normal injection, my attempt at delivering it resulted in a crooked lunge that merely scraped the surface of the target.

"You failed to take into account the resistance of the veins and the strength of the ribs," the Smoker corrected me.

"You need to be stronger, and hit harder." His words guided my pace. I readied myself for a new strike, and this time my body was prepared for what was to come. The blade pierced through the intercostal tissue, driving deep into the pig's heart, and finally putting an end to its suffering. It was a strange lesson, and it didn't stop there. The rain kept pouring down as we continued to stab the pig, turning what was left of its flesh into a meaningless, bloody mess. I could do nothing but watch, trapped in this surreal experience. It was better than death, but only marginally. As the sun began to rise over the horizon and the rain stopped, I woke up from the dream.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

***

Darkness smiled to herself - it was the only way she had been able to express her emotions for the past two hundred years. The newcomer who had entered her world was exceptional. He dared to argue back! He said "no" to her servant and even to her. He possessed a strong will and a clear understanding of how the world should be. He was ready to stand up for his beliefs. Unfortunately, people like him eventually break... but not him, at least not yet. She would give him a chance. Whether he would take it or not would depend solely on him.

Now

I was alive again and I could feel it; I sensed my real body. It seemed like the Darkness had hinted at something like this at the very beginning. I lifted my hand and had fingers again, able to move them independently. There was no one around but me, though my new limbs were much smaller than what I was used to. Then I noticed a pothole in the asphalt and a puddle ahead. I leaped towards it and froze, staring at the reflection of a young animal in the water. I transformed into a child, a boy of around ten years old, with tiny hands and feet that resembled matchsticks. The clothes were tattered, but the durable yet soft fabric didn't hinder movement. It was only now caked in dust and damp around the collar. After waking up with the Smoker, I suddenly recognized the scent of blood and dirt.

So, before I took over this body, it had been lying... I couldn't think of anything else when it turned out that I wasn't alone anymore. Four teenagers entered a peaceful alley between two old four-story barracks. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief; children aren't a threat. But then, as soon as I got a closer look at the strangers, anxiety washed over me once more.

These teenagers were only about fourteen years old, just like me, or perhaps even younger. However, their hostile stares made it clear that our meeting was not a coincidence. I scanned my surroundings, hoping someone would intervene, but the solid wooden walls surrounding the alley where my new life began made it clear that no one cared about me.

Resigned to the fact that trouble was inevitable, I scrutinized the approaching gang. They were small but fierce, swathed in oversized coats sewn from an array of patches that concealed their bodies. Only one of them stood out, with a muscular build, and all four of them had insect tattoos on the right side of their faces.

The leader of the pack remained shrouded in shadow, his tattoo indistinguishable. However, it was immediately evident who held the upper hand in the group.

"We've been searching for you," declared the teenager with the mosquito tattoo, flexing his fists. "We've wanted to teach someone from the aristocracy a lesson for a long time, but alas, even the poorest of you have 'Protection'," he emphasized the word, spitting. "Fortunately, we were tipped off about your whereabouts... I don't know what your father did to have you all wiped out. But now, without the protection of your title or emergency button, you're nothing but a punching bag, Pozharsky. Or should we call you Ognev, after the surname of the relatives who took you in?"

I flinched. In the previous world, my surname was also Ognev.

Then, I flinched once again. I remembered the darkness's words about how I would need help to survive in this world. She said it so seriously, and then pushed me towards the Smoker. I'm starting to suspect that this conversation with my peers could end not only in a brawl. If they practice sword strikes on live pigs in this world, what are gangs capable of? It doesn't matter how old they are.

The group of teenage thugs began to approach. And at the moment when the muscular man stepped out of the shadows, I could see the last tattoo. It resembled a black beetle with six legs.

"The Ant, The Mosquito, don't let him escape," the leader commanded.

So, the tattoos are related to their nicknames. A plan was born in my head on how to try to get out of this situation. And while the aforementioned duo didn't rush at me, I boldly stared at the muscle man.

"What are you, some kind of Beetle-Dung?" When you are mature in your soul, it's really easy to offend a teenager. Even if he's a thug and possibly wants to kill you.

The leader was momentarily stunned. Even his henchmen froze, not rushing to attack me and waiting for his reaction.

"It's a scarab," his cheeks turned crimson.

I had no choice but to agree. After all, the tattoo on the scarab looked similar. However, insulting them could provoke these four to make a mistake. My only goal was to get past them.

And it worked - the leader, Scarab, gave the command for the Mosquito to attack me. He rushed towards me, but I was prepared and quickly dodged. The Mosquito flew over me and collided with the Ant, who was a bit late to react. I emerged unscathed, and these two were temporarily out of the fight. It seemed like I had won the first round of the fight. Unfortunately, Scarab remained in my way.

But one person was not four, and my chances of escaping had significantly increased. I moved closer, ready to deceive Scarab and pass him on the opposite side, but then I was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. It felt like something was squeezing my skull from the inside, and then my stomach churned, reminding me that I had breakfast in this world...

My body was wracked with convulsions, and I almost collapsed onto the asphalt. Then my consciousness plunged deep into our world. The air shattered into atoms, and I fell even further until I floated in an infinite web of electrons and something else... I tried to grasp onto this new image, but was abruptly pulled back. Once again, I became human, but my vision was different. The web-like vision disappeared, leaving only the brightest nodes and clusters... like a starry sky! Stars! The ordinary world bloomed with new, sparkling points that were everywhere, from the dirty lanterns bolted to the walls of the barracks to the wires snaking beneath the city streets. And even on people. Each of the teenage gang members surrounding me was highlighted in a couple of places. And then I saw one more bright point flying from above. I couldn't see it with my eyes, but I somehow knew it was a person. I couldn't explain how or why, but I just knew it! I had to jump to the side again. It wasn't very graceful, and I landed on my stomach, but it was definitely better than getting hit on the head by the fifth member of the gang who had suddenly appeared from somewhere. But where? Surely not from the roof of the fourth floor?

There was no response, so I retreated, trying to create distance between myself and these crazy individuals while also evaluating my new adversary. To start with, he was also a teenager, dressed in the same baggy clothing, but he was also massive, easily twice the size of my current body. And when he landed from his jump, cracks spread through the asphalt. But could that even be possible?

"Meet Rhino," Scarab smirked, introducing me to another one of his henchmen. Sure enough, he had a tattoo of a beetle-rhino on his cheek. Meanwhile, the leader continued in the same disinterested tone. "It's a shame he's so impulsive and revealed his abilities to you. Now you can expose his identity and share it with the wrong people. You do realize that after this, we can't let you live, right?" I listened to the teenager and knew he was telling the truth. About everything, from their abilities to their intentions to kill me. Darkness was also right...

"Stab him," Scarab decided, pulling a narrow, shiny blade from his sleeve. Based on where he kept it and how confidently he aimed it directly at my eyes, he was clearly skilled in its use. I took a step back. Knives or not, my strategy remained the same. Provoke, make the enemies split up, and then dart past them into open space.

My trick worked for the second time. Mosquito's eyes widened, and once again, he rushed towards me first without waiting for the others. However, I hadn't taken everything into consideration. For some reason, this impatient guy turned out to be twice as fast as the first time. The air around him even rippled. In just a second, he was already by my side. The next second, his fist flew straight into my jaw. If I hadn't provoked him to lunge, he could have caught me. But as it was, I managed to throw myself on my stomach again and dodge to the side.

It seems to be becoming my signature move.

I also understood the meaning of those stars for the last couple of minutes. When Mosquito's fist flew past my face, I could clearly see the cheap smartwatch shining on his wrist. It was abnormal, impossible for an ordinary person. And that means the stars were definitely a manifestation of my hidden powers, as Darkness had talked about. It seems the same with Mosquito's speed. So, are we both those same Igigi?

"Take that, you badger!" - it seems like it was an insult related to my previous title as a boyar. Or what was I before?

Following Mosquito, Ant reached me and kicked me right away.

I barely had time to cover myself with my elbows and raise my knees when Mosquito, not even that big, threw me about five meters away and something inside me seemed to snap. It hurt. And this "football player" was also hot. When his foot kicked me, it felt like a red-hot steel rod had hit me. Another Igigi?

If this keeps up, I'm going to die for sure, and this time without any chance of survival. Something had to be done!

Taking advantage of the pause in the fight, while everyone was laughing at my stunned facial expression, I tried to reach for one of the stars. And nothing happened! Whatever my power was, it definitely didn't work at a distance. Fortunately, my opponents were willing to accommodate me on this. Scarab gave another signal, and his henchmen rushed at me again. And the hot guy Ant was in the front row.

This time he tried to grab me instead of kicking. As soon as I imagined what it would be like to be trapped in his embrace, I felt a wave of heat. Luckily, he wasn't as fast as Mosquito. I dodged his clumsy grip and was able to feel the star again. Even a few of them. They turned out to be his smartwatch again, and also a phone and some rectangular device hidden in the inner pocket of his robe.

The watch was the closest thing! Realizing that I wouldn't be able to dodge much longer, I reached out with all the newfound power inside me and grabbed onto their star. And then I turned it over...

Time slowed down, and in that moment, I became aware of another layer of my power. I could control objects. Not simply turn them on and off, but change their properties! Weight, strength, battery charge... Dozens of different parameters seemed to be hanging before me, and I knew that I could change each of them for a limited time, if I approached it intelligently...

Time sped up again, and I leaped away to avoid being caught by any of the gang members, especially Ant with his fiery skin. Each of us stayed in our respective positions, with one small exception. At the last moment, as the watch's star passed close to my face, I made two changes to it. I reduced the battery's capacity while adding more power at the same time. It may have been a minor adjustment, but...

"Damn it, Kingu!" Ant cursed when his smartwatch began to smoke and then exploded on his wrist. Sparks and molten droplets flew in all directions. Plastic and burning lithium - he was probably burned. He'll learn not to try to burn me to ashes.

"You shouldn't have skimped on quality gear... And you shouldn't curse like a dragon," the guy with the caterpillar on his cheek quipped, breaking his silence. It seems that when his comrade really got it, it amused him greatly. These bandits are strange.

However, it ended up working in my favor. By the time they realized what had happened, I would have taken them all down! With a crazed laugh, I spit out the blood that had filled my mouth, took a deep breath, and charged forward. Of course, they met me with a couple of good punches, but thankfully, no one had knives. I had provoked them, and the teenagers were letting their emotions get the best of them, drawing out the pleasure. Mosquito left me with a bruise under my eye, Caterpillar almost dislocated my kneecap - it was frustrating, now I was much slower - and Ant almost broke a couple of ribs again. Perhaps it was lucky that I didn't reach Rhino when Scarab's blow knocked me back. But I was smiling. I had taken some hard hits, but even without laying a finger on any of my opponents, I was able to get under their skin. Each of them had at least a couple of stars by their name.

"What are you up to?" Scarab was the first to catch on.

And just then, the watches and phones of each gang member began to explode, causing burns and distracting them from me. This was my chance! Commanding myself to forget about my throbbing knee, I leaped up and, for the umpteenth time, ran toward the exit of the alleyway.

I focused my attacks on Mosquito, who was the most dangerous, and he was certainly preoccupied. I outran Caterpillar and Scarab; their capabilities weren't entirely understood, and I didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. For the final stretch, I picked the gap between Rhino and Ant, assuming they were the slowest. And I was right!

Without even flinching, the gang members blocked my way, leaving me with no one standing between me and the alley's exit. Suddenly, Scarab's voice boomed behind me, ordering me to stop. I had picked the wrong person to attack.

"Stop!" he shouted, and before I knew it, shadows began to gather around me. At first, it seemed like a flock of clouds had rolled in, but within seconds, I realized that there were far too many for that to be the case. The shadows engulfed me from all sides, pulling me back into the alley with the soft touch of plush hands. Although they were soft, they were also overwhelming in their number.

There were enough shadows to block the path of a ten-year-old boy and encircle him entirely. The gray shadows blended into a single, solid, dark curtain, and all I could see was Scarab's satisfied smile, tinged with a hint of tension.

"What kind of world is this?" I protested to myself. "A world where, in the first street gang you come across, at least four out of five possess some form of power?"

Despite the fact that the enveloping shadows rendered me temporarily blind, I remained calm. The initial shock had worn off, and I realized that even though Scarab's power had hidden my eyes, I could still see the stars. I observed the remnants of the gang members' abilities on their limbs while they remained stationary and caught a glimpse of a few moving objects on the larger street that lay just ahead.

The idea of Scarab letting me go alive after everything that had happened seemed unbelievable, but I had to hear him out. I watched as Ant and Caterpillar seemed to argue with Scarab, their stars flickering in an animated exchange.

Finally, Scarab turned to me and said, "Because you're different. You're not like the other aristocrats. You have something special in you."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, but I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe there was a way out of this after all.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"I mean that you have potential. Potential that the corporations would kill for," Scarab said, his tone turning serious. "But you're not ready for that yet. You need training, guidance. And we can provide that for you."

I was skeptical, but I couldn't deny that Scarab's words intrigued me. Maybe there was a way to use my abilities for something greater than just personal gain. I decided to hear him out and see where this could lead.

"You're one of us," Scarab said, addressing both me and his henchmen. "You may not have realized it yet, but you will soon enough. What you saw on our faces isn't something to be afraid of. We don't hide our true identities, unlike those who work for corporations, whose lives are divided. We, on the other hand, are leaving for the big city today."

"I wouldn't have betrayed you before, either."

"Back then, you were just another lost soul caught up in the life we all despise."

"Now I'm one of you. I remember."

"Not quite yet. But when you understand and make a choice, come to me. I'll personally tattoo you and provide you with a mask to start a new life, a real one."

I didn't know how to respond. There was no need to tell them that I had seen myself buried as an igig, a gang member. So, I remained silent. Scarab called back his shadows, perhaps to make sure I saw the gang leaving the alley. In some way, it was beautiful.

Rhino seized his comrades, throwing them one by one onto the roof of the building on the right. Then, he leaped up there himself. A thought occurred to me: I was relieved that he hadn't laid a hand on me. Rhino lingered on the rooftop for a few seconds, his gaze piercing mine. However, Scarab called him back, and he left as well.

I stood there for a few more seconds, watching the stars disappear from my sight. And when they finally vanished, I let myself relax and collapse onto my knees. All the pain from the blows I had received and the cracked ribs suddenly hit me at once, and my mouth was filled with blood again.

I survived, but I had no idea what to do next. Where to go or how to pull myself together.

At that moment, a sturdy old man in a cap and stylish cane unexpectedly appeared from the main street. I thought that if this were on Earth, he would pretend not to notice anything and walk past, which would be logical in a world where igigis exist and an ordinary person can always get hit.

But he didn't say a word and immediately rushed towards me.

"Sashka!" he gasped, falling to his knees beside me. "Who did this to you? Hang on. I'll take you home now!"

Sashka... So I am Sashka Ognev, and this is not just an old man, but my grandfather. Tears welled up in my eyes for some reason. Was it because I would still be alive? Or was it something else?

Grandpa made a phone call, and I, trusting this man, allowed myself to fully relax and lose consciousness.

From me. If you like the story, I can translate a chapter each day. There two full big books ready, so it will be a nice journey.