Michael's eyes fluttered open and he groaned, feeling the rough ground beneath him. He sat up slowly, his head spinning as he looked around at his new surroundings. It was a medieval village, with wooden huts and a dirt path leading down the center.

He looked down at his clothes, or rather lack of them. He had been dressed in a medieval tunic and cloth pants, his leather shoes replaced by high boots. He rubbed his head, trying to remember how he got there.

Michael's mind raced as he surveyed the scene: sturdy stone walls, dirt paths, cobblestone roads, and intricately patterned fabrics. He wondered if a wormhole had caused them to travel back in time?

Michael surveyed his surroundings with a look of confusion, while the locals around him mirrored his expression, many of which were African-American. Could this be a sign that he had not traveled through time after all? Africans were very uncommon visitors in Europe at this point in history.

He noticed that there were a lot of horses here, more than he had ever seen in one place before. They were tied up to posts, grazing in fields, and even trotting down the dirt path that ran through the center of the village.

Michael tentatively approached the group of villagers, his heart racing with uncertainty. He cleared his throat and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Excuse me, do any of you know what's going on here? How did we get here?"

The villagers turned to him, their eyes wide with confusion. One of them, a middle-aged woman with an uncertain smile, stepped forward.

"I don't know," she said, her voice trembling. "One moment I was in my apartment in Chicago, covering under the bed, and the next thing I knew, I was here."

The other villagers nodded in agreement, murmuring amongst themselves. Michael felt a sense of relief wash over him. He wasn't alone in this strange new world.

"Do you know anything about this place?" he asked, gesturing around him at the medieval village.

The woman shook her head. "I don't recognize any of this. It's like we've been transported back in time. We just woke up an hour ago."

Michael stared off into the distance, lost in thought. He considered everything that had happened over the past few hours. First, the world had been swallowed up by a giant worm, leaving him wandering in darkness. Then he had stumbled upon a speck of light and ended up in this strange new world.

He found it hard to believe that he was really in a different time period. He had always thought that time travel was impossible, a figment of science fiction. Yet here he was, standing in the middle of a medieval village.

He looked around at the villagers, studying their faces. They were frightened, unsure of what was going on. Michael could relate. He had been scared too, wandering through the darkness, not knowing what was going to happen, did they wander the darkness too?

Michael shook his head, he was getting nowhere just standing there. He had to find information, or at the very least a place to stay. He knew this mess wouldn't be resolved overnight.

Michael set out, wandering aimlessly around the old-fashioned village. His feet found the uneven cobblestone road as he walked, and the soles of his boots were soon covered in dirt. He took in the smells of the woods, horses and cattle, blended with the aroma of smoke from someone's cooking fire. Garbage lingered in the air too, adding its own distinct odor.

As he walked down the dirt path, Michael noticed a small group of men gathered around a table outside a larger two story stone house. They were talking in hushed tones, their eyes darting around nervously.

Michael approached them, his steps cautious. "Excuse me, do you know what's going on here?" he asked.

The men turned to him, their faces serious. One of them, a burly man with a thick beard, spoke up.

"We don't know much," he said, his voice gruff. "Just that the world has changed. Everything's gone back to the way it was in the old days."

Michael frowned, trying to make sense of what the man was saying. "What do you mean? What old days?"

The man shrugged. "The days before all this technology. The days before the world went dark."

Something had happened to the world, something that had caused it to revert back to a more primitive state. He looked around, taking in his surroundings once again. The wooden huts, the dirt roads, the lack of electricity. Has the world truly regressed? It seemed just as likely as time travel.

An icy chill ran through Michael as he considered the consequences of what he saw. Spellbound, he ventured further into the town. He pondered what have become of tall structures like apartment complexes and skyscrapers if everything else was turned into small, wooden cottages. The city might be facing major overcrowding in no time.

Michael continued to wander aimlessly around the medieval village, his mind racing with thoughts of the new world. He had a lot to digest, but he had to stay alert. This world was dangerous, and he had to be prepared for anything.

As he turned a corner, he saw a man clad in chain mail, cudgel and a short sword hanging from a belt at his waist. He noticed that the man was deep in conversation with a group of villagers. The guardsman was doing his best to persuade them to work together, his words calm and measured.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

As Michael approached the guardsman he listened in on the conversation, hoping to glean some information. He heard the guardsman mention something about a group of bandits that had been terrorizing the city. Michael wondered what that was about.

When the villagers dispersed, Michael approached the guardsman, his heart racing with anticipation. The guardsman looked at him with a curious expression, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Excuse me," Michael said, his voice shaking slightly. "I was wondering if you could help me. I seem to be lost, and I don't know how I ended up here."

The guardsman regarded him for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if sizing him up. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm afraid I don't have any answers for you," he said, his voice gruff. "I'm just as lost as you are. One moment I was a police officer in the 21st century, and the next, I was here."

Michael looked at the police officer in stunned silence. Then, he realized what had happened: the policeman's vest and baton had been transformed into chain mail and a cudgel. And the the short sword at his waist? Was that his handgun? Could it be that all guns were now swords? The thought was mind-boggling.

The guardsman seemed to sense Michael's confusion. "We've all been trying to make sense of this," he said. "But so far, we don't have any answers. All we can do is work together to survive."

Michael's mind raced with the implications of the officer's words.

"What did you mean by bandits?" Michael asked with trepidation.

The guardsman's expression turned grim. "They're a group of people who've decided that the old rules don't apply anymore. They're taking what they want, when they want it, and they don't care who they hurt in the process. We've been doing our best to keep them at bay, but more groups spring up overnight, and the previous ones grow quickly."

Michael's heart sank. He knew that this was bad news. In a world where lawlessness was the norm, there was no telling what could happen. He knew that better than anybody.

"But why are they doing this?" Michael asked. "Don't they know that they can't just take whatever they want?"

The guardsman shook his head. "They don't care. They've decided that the old authorities no longer exist, and that they can do whatever they want. One of the groups even claims it's seceding from the US, could you believe that?" He shook his head in exasperation.

"Regardless, it's a dangerous situation, and we're doing our best to contain it," he proclaimed while adoption an official air.

Michael nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew that he had to be careful if he was going to survive in this world. The bandits represented a very real threat, as an organized group no target was beyond their reach.

The guardsman seemed to sense Michael's trepidation. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll keep you safe. Just stick with us, and we'll make sure that nothing happens to you."

Michael nodded, grateful for the guardsman's reassurance but one thing kept digging at him, what did the officer say? Ever since he woke up...

Michael's curiosity got the best of him. "When did you wake up?" he asked the guardsman.

"A little less than two days ago," the guardsman replied. "Most of the other people I've met woke up around the same time, but some earlier, some later. We've been trying to piece together what happened, but it's all just speculation at this point. Some people are saying it was magic or something about wormholes; that would make sense considering we did kind of end up in one." He let out a chuckle.

Michael's mind raced with questions. He couldn't help but feel like he was missing a piece of the puzzle. Why did he wake up so much later than everyone else? Was he different from the other people who woke up in this world?

"Why did I wake up so much later than everyone else?" Michael asked, his voice laced with confusion.

The guardsman shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe you were in a different part of the world, or maybe you were in a deeper sleep than the rest of us. There's no telling what could have caused it."

Michael nodded, though the guardsman's explanation didn't completely satisfy him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to his late awakening than just chance.

He decided to change the subject. "So, what do I need to know about this world?" he asked, hoping to glean some more information.

The guardsman regarded him for a moment, then spoke. "Well, for starters, you need to be careful. This world is dangerous, and you never know what might be lurking around the corner. The bandits are the real threat, but that only proves human nature, when people see easy picking they are no better than vultures."

Michael nodded, taking in the guardsman's words. He realized simply living long enough to figure our what happen might prove a challenge. But he was determined to do whatever it takes to stay alive.

"Is there anywhere I can go to get more information?" Michael asked, hoping that there was some sort of higher authority or research group that he could consult.

The guardsman shook his head. "Not that I know of," he said. "Most of us are just trying to survive day by day. We don't have the luxury of figuring out how the world works now. The best I can recommend you is my captain, we turned one of the bigger houses nearby into a headquarters, he should be there this time of the day."

Michael sighed, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over him. He doubted the captain knew much more than the officer, and if so only about bandits.

Michael took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "Can you tell me which part of Chicago we're in now?" he asked the guardsman, his voice steady and firm. "I need to get to Austin."

The guardsman nodded. "We're in Norwood Park," he said. "Austin is south of here."

"Thank you for your help," Michael said, his voice laced with gratitude.

The guardsman nodded, his expression turning serious. "Be careful," he said. "The bandits are unpredictable, and they won't hesitate to attack anyone who they think has something they want."

Michael set off on foot towards Austin, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might find along the way. He knew that the journey would be dangerous, but he had no other choice. Mr. Jenkins had been like a father to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone in this world.

As he walked, Michael took in the sights around him. It was still surreal how much had changed since he had last seen it. The buildings were still exactly where they've been, but they had been transformed. Some into humble wooden and straw huts and cottages, others into richer brick or stone houses. The cars were gone, replaced by horses and wagons. The people, too, had changed. They wore clothes that looked like they had been taken from a renaissance fair, and they spoke in a language that Michael couldn't understand.

It was like he had traveled back in time, but he knew that wasn't possible. This was still the same world, just different somehow. He needed to find out what had caused this change, but he didn't know where to start.

As Michael trudged through the city, he kept his eyes peeled for any danger that might be lurking around the corner. But the journey back home was surprisingly uneventful. He saw plenty of people passing by, but none of them seemed interested in him. Maybe it was the cautious look in his eyes or the determination in his step that kept them at bay.