Peter came to surrounded by tall trees. The sparse clouds a halo to the full moon casting its gentle glow in the night sky. The gentle breeze caressed him and raindrops soothed him. Taking a deep breath, the fragrant scent of the damp earth put him at ease and the tension in his sore muscles dissipated.

He sat down under a tree, resting his head against it. Left arm on raised knee he immersed himself in the tranquility of his forest. The harmonious symphony he found in nature during the night, especially during what others considered bad weather, had always been a solace to him.

Yet, an unsettling undercurrent permeated his forest. A vague sense of disquiet niggled at Peter's subconscious, casting faint ripples through the otherwise tranquil landscape. It was as though the dream held secrets just beyond his grasp, obscured within the murkiness of his own thoughts.

[Dream?]

Peter's eyes snapped open, a guttural growl escaping his lips, shattering the dream's fragile equilibrium. Getting up onto a crouch, Peter surveyed his surroundings.

The dream's atmosphere shifted. The once serene skies filled with turbulent clouds, obscuring the moon's gentle glow. Lightning rippled and thunder growled back.

An unseen, yet undeniable pressure came down on him and Peter felt himself pushed down. His muscles tensed and his growls deepened as he fought to stand up.

The pressure mounted and his bones creaked. With every flash of lightning he blacked out for a moment and with every rumble of thunder his mind was rattled. Each instance bringing closer to the ground.

But as a shadow came over him, he felt an incredible fury flow through him. Pain burst through his body as his muscles tore, yet he stood. And, as he stood, he bellowed a primal scream right up at the raging storm above him. The battle cry seemingly never ending drowned out all else.

*******************

~WAKE UP!~

Peter jolted onto a crouching position, ready to leap to his feet. Eyes wide, he turned his head every which way, scanning his surroundings. His dream mere fragments rapidly turning to dust.

“Where... what....?” Everything was quiet and still around him. It seemed he was in some sort of cavern as all he saw was rock. Only a faint far away dripping sound disturbed this peace. Peter looked up wondering where the faint light was coming from and found a strange, vein like… something with a blue hue weaving through the ceiling above.

~Heal and… grow…~

He tensed, eyes bulging. There it was again; he hadn’t dreamt it. The whisper. The first had felt loud somehow, urgent. The second, relieved. It faded away as if falling dormant. Peter waited, but the whisper didn’t return. [The fuck was that?]

His mind was reeling with questions, desperate to make a connection that explained how and why he got here. Where the hell was here?

He kept spinning in place, feeling suffocated despite his rapid breathing. Just as he was losing his balance and felt himself about to keel over, his instincts kicked it. He moved a foot forward to stop his fall, but still allowed himself to lower onto one knee. Closing his eyes he leaned forward, resting against his raised leg. [Calm the fuck down!] He told himself with a hand on his chest.

He didn’t sense any danger and, as he had told himself, began to calm down. As he did so, the memory of his battle with the wolf flashed through his mind and his hand reflexively moved to his neck. However, he felt nothing but smooth skin. Shocked, Peter looked down at himself and found he was stark naked and there were no wounds, not even a scar. Most of the pain he'd felt before was gone, too. All he felt now was a muted migraine. He probed and prodded the rest of his body and besides a numbness where his old injuries – the worst ones – had been, he found none. New or old.

"What the hell is going on?" Peter muttered to himself. "Maybe I'm dreaming. How much did I drink?" He slapped himself hard. “Ah! That fucking hurt!" he cried rubbing his face. "Maybe not a dream."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

As if his misty breath was the queue for his awareness to trigger, the man crossed his arms in a futile attempt to ward off the cold he just realised he was feeling. Hugging himself, Peter took a few seconds to get his bearings.

There was a strong smell of ozone in the air and, as he looked around again, he found burnt marks on the stone around him.

As he looked at the uncomfortable, jagged, floor beneath him, a frown formed on his face. Standing up, he found himself dead centre on top of what was left of some sort of circular platform with weird patterns all over. A giant stone disc with a length twice that of his body in diameter. The cracks that radiated from where he stood made him wonder once again what the hell happened while some crazy and fantastical suspicions flooded his mind.

Shaking his head to clear his mind to that train of thought, Peter walked off the platform and continued to look around. By one of the walls there was a pile what appeared to have been several more platforms identical to one he found himself on earlier. Only, these were shattered far more completely. Peter noticed those disks had a much higher concentration of the same burnt marks he saw all around him. But for now, all he could do was store that information. At some point, it would no doubt come in useful.

Besides the broken platforms there was not much else in the cave. There were no stalactites or stalagmites either. It was almost as if this cave had been carved out. It was also not very big, Peter could just about make out the edges in almost every direction despite how dim the lighting was.

Feeling the cold seeping deeper into his body, the shivering naked man started looking for a way out of the cave. He turned toward the faint dripping that he could just about make out in the distance and, when he looked at the ground, he noticed there was a bit of a path worn into it. As he followed along, Peter saw more of those marks burnt into the rock. It didn’t take long before he started smelling burning mixed with the ozone. There was something else, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

“What in the…?” He muttered.

He’d reached an opening in the cavern wall and he wasn’t quite sure if it was blown or melted through. He could see that the air around the wall was distorting, and could feel heat radiating off of it as he approached. There were still reds and oranges dancing on the edges of the hole.

He continued to approach, but with a lot more caution. He realised he was looking at some sort of door made of rock that had been destroyed from his side of the cave.

Peter looked through, the only immediate light source a few scattered embers. And though he couldn’t actually see it, he made out the telltale orange glow of a fire somewhere far to the left.

Whatever breached this door had done a number on whatever was on the other side. If he were to guess, Peter was looking at what used to be bookshelves along with their contents.

As much as he wanted to look around, he had to wait for the surface of the hole to cooldown; the door – or what was left of it – was so thick that he’d need to step on it at least once, and that was with a decent leap, to get to the other side. Diving through wouldn’t be a good idea either considering the mess that awaited him. At least he was warm again.

As Peter waited, he considered how far-fetched his situation was. “What the hell is going on?” his mind replayed his battle with the wolf, “I died, right? But now I’m here.” he looked around himself as his brain failed to make sense of whatever it was that was going on. “Is this some kind of isekai shit? No, that’s stupid. Think!” he said, smacking the side of his head, and as he did he looked at the hand he did it with, his left hand. The left hand which was no longer injured. He gave himself another once over and confirmed that all his old injuries were gone. He was in an unknown place, naked and his body was almost as good as new. But it was definitely his body, his birthmarks were all still present, and he could feel the metal implants in his skull, leg and forearm were still there.

Most importantly, this didn’t feel like a dream.

“I’m not gonna find answers standing around.” Peter checked the hole in the wall and found it had cooled just enough for him to get through without getting burned. He also noticed that the glow he noticed before had died down some.

He took his time going through the opening, his senses hyper alert. Surprisingly, after his eyes adjusted, he found he could see quite well despite the lack of a decent light source in the room. He noted that, where there was no direct source of light, he saw mostly in shades of grey. The only color his eyes captured came from anything touched by the far off glow of the flames.

Now that he thought about it, it seemed his hearing and sense of smell had improved as well. He could hear water dripping in the distance and got the impression that it was very far away; he could also distinguish some of the smells mostly overpowered by those of burning and ozone, even if couldn’t identify what they were.

As he made his way into the room proper, he found it hard to breathe. The air was dry and tainted with the aftermath of the fire, which had clearly burnt through most of the oxygen. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths – his old trick for getting his mind to ignore unpleasant smells or anything that made his breathing want to stop.

Now standing in the room, Peter surveyed it carefully, looking for any danger as well as anything of use. Right now his priority was some kind of weapon, next, clothes.