Chapter 1: Reborn

Immanuel suddenly found himself in existence, with no form, in a complete void. He experienced a sensation like he was in a tunnel, hurtling forward with astonishing speed—a rhythm of motion alternating between jarring halts and frenetic surges. And then it stopped.

Confused, he tried to make sense of his situation, but then pain hit him hard. The pain ignited in his limbs, a searing trail that surged upwards, converging into his skull. There, it blossomed into a monstrous headache as if his head had been cleaved open.

Slowly, the pain faded away, and he realized he was lying on cold, hard stones. He smelled an icy sharpness in the air. He managed to push himself into a sitting position, wondering aloud, "Where am I?" Speaking was an ordeal; each word scraped against his parched throat.

Immanuel's eyes settled on his immediate surroundings—what little he could see of them—noting that he lay upon a narrow platform, its edges barely discernible in the low light. Below him, an intricate web of blue lines pulsed softly, their glow waning.

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Then, someone spoke in a language he didn't understand. Immanuel's ears caught the sharp, high-pitched timbre of a voice speaking.

Out of the corner of his eyes, a being came into view. He saw claws and feathers in vibrant colors. Shock coursed through Immanuel as his thoughts spun wildly: 'What the fuck, what the fuck’. His mind kept repeating.

When the creature came into view again, he could move his head slightly. It was like nothing he had ever seen—an imposing figure with a mix of features from a hawk and a lion's mane, all covered in purple and gold feathers. Its sharp and gray eyes met his. Then, as quickly as everything started, he blacked out, with the image of the creature's eyes etched into his mind.

As the darkness crept in, threatening to engulf Immanuel completely, a flash of memory cut through the haze of his mind. He was back in his kitchen, the mundane reality starkly vivid. He could see the bright red of a bell pepper he'd been slicing, the knife's edge glinting as it carved through the crisp vegetable. His wife stood beside him, her presence a comforting familiarity. He could hear the light scrape of a chair against the floor and knew it was his daughter at the dining table.