Amidst the silence of the stalled storm, swirling effects of the distorted light bent about the creature who assumed center-stage. Jonathan was left with an inkling, his reality was cracking at the seams and he was unsure if this was the damage to his cerebrum or something beyond mortal comprehension. Beaten, battered and bruised from the accident he was just in, the adrenaline began to wear off, pain sweeping through every inch of his body to bring the man to his knees in the snow. The exhaustion akin to a vulture, encircling the predator of his injuries. “Please - help him, don’t let him die here.. He’s got kids.” Jon’s voice caught in his throat, at the end of his rope, the robed woman was right, this was his curtain call.

“Life begets life, Mister White, are you willing to trade the exchange rate for your friend? So noble, I almost find it endearing.”

It was an open door, a leading answer to pull Jon into it, he never had a choice but only needed to give her the confirmation that she had been leading for. “Anything.”

“Let the deal be sealed here, then.” The snow contorted, blowing apart from the epicenter of the woman’s form as she appeared to land upon the saturated dirt. Every step consolidating his answer, perhaps he had spoken with God and this was just how he wished to see it. Redemption and freedom from his lack of ability to offer more to his most trusted. Jonathan, fallen at the knee in the snow, felt the impact of an invisible force scattering the snow beyond him. Lifting his hand towards Uriya, almost in tangent to her offering her own as the fingertips gripped about the man’s hand and it began with a startling warmth accruing in the extremity.

“Wh-what is this? What are you doing?”

“I’m reaping what is owed, a life.”

“I was never dead.”

“Not even close, Mister White.”

“What have I done. .?”

“You’ve made a deal.” The crepitus of the bones within his hand fracturing underneath the force of the grip as it absorbed a foreign essence into his being. Jonathan felt overwhelmingly nauseous as the obsidian hue of tendrils projecting themselves from the conjoined fingertips began to dig underneath the flesh. The epidermis began to molt away from the encounter with her persistence, taking upon a shape that Jon could only surmise as a tattoo, flattening the girth which had avulsed the first layer of tissue. Unable to remove his grip from the woman’s hand, only to watch in horror as Uriya's expression remained beguiled and amused, releasing him.

What had been left of his energy was siphoned away due to the pain, collapsing into the frozen mud, his jade eyes paralyzed to stare against the sky that twisted into either direction simultaneously. Uriya appearing within his peripheral, poised upon her hand was naught but a gesture as she’d elevate her index finger from the odd position. As if a firehose had been unleashed within his chest, the roaring numbness battering the inside of his chest, his vision began to darken until there was but the darkness of void.

. . .

A flicker, shimmering of light penetrated through the darkness as it caught Jon’s attention.

* Initializing •

“Initializing what.. What is the noise in my head .. is that me?”

* Parameters of Soul sterilized of previous universal dwellings, stand by. •

“I can’t .. feeling anything, where am I?” Jon’s voice only echoed within his head, as if speaking through a resonating chamber.

* Soul attunement interrupted, perception inadequacy. Adjusting. •

. . .

* Perception adjusted, reinitializing . . .•

* Complete. Spellwork of soul projection completed, restoring sensory input. •

Jon could recall the Christian testament making some comment of God saying, Let there be Light upon the world. Such as his mind adjusted to the darkness became a muted green, the soft pain of a fluid against his eyes as he peered through the substance he had been suspended in. Suspended? Jonathan felt his bodily functions intact, bringing his hands into view, hardly seen through the haze of water. “What is this, Star Wars?” His mind, albeit felt odd he could notice the darkened figures beyond the depth of his containment. A deep breath to calm his nerves, blinking - something had been forced into his mouth, a mask of some kind? Filling his lungs with crisp air, reminding him of his folk’s home down south as he started to calm..

“It’s done, open it.” A familiar voice, dulled by the interrupted waves through the fluid.

The waters began to drain away into the bottom of his containment device, revealing his attention to the details that swirled around him. Blinking away the oversaturation of material in his eyes, Jon was able to see the two figures beyond a glass door. A soft squeal of compressed air releasing from his atmospherically condensed bulb, released him. Jon caught himself on his feet, the sensations were far too alien as he glanced down at the empty tank he was in. Grasping the mask, he felt a bit of air pushed from the sides of it as he began to pull. The suctioned appliance on his visage released, his tongue catching attention of the tube that had been beyond his throat. Gagging, pulling it free.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Jonathon, welcome back to the world of the living.” Uriya’s voice caught his attention, the dripping water alerted him to being bare of clothes. Jon, stepping down onto a cold stone staircase that led right to where he had been housed, glancing over his shoulder to the tubular home - still slick with whatever fluid he had been immersed in. “We have many things to get started on, I’d watch your step-”

He felt the awkward footing, collapsing forward, tripping on quite literally nothing with the impact of the masonry underneath his body, knocking the wind out of him. “What’s wrong with my legs?” His inquiring voice stalled, his own voice felt different in his ears as the anxiety began to settle into his core. “Jonathon, for the sanity of both of us I will need you to pay attention to me.” The wet, naked and afraid man fell his gaze to the familiar woman who stood in front of him. Her attire had entirely changed to that of a scholarly figure of darkened silk robes. She held a walking stick? No, a staff, metallic in construction with a crystal adorned atop of it. The lowlight environment didn’t help him with the haze of his vision still affecting him.

“Your body was reborn, the deal you had struck to save your friend - egh, what was his name .. Bill?”

“Will.”

“Right, Will. Safe and sound. Now, for you to honor your part of the deal. Your life.”

“I’m having a .. difficult time understanding, what do you mean?”

A secondary figure stepped through the haze, offering him a mirror. The man dressed in a similar fashion to Uriya, but without the staff. Jon’s eyes settled against the reflection of a face that was not his own. The contours of his chin, cheeks and overall, reminding him of more of an actor of Hollywood than his normal visage. A more masculine array of traits, broader, the eyes of sea green were now a striking jade hue and his facial hair was thicker, rich in a black shade opposed to his brown as the man’s voice screamed an octave deeper than how he’d imagined he would sound. Throwing the mirror against the ground, scrambling, or attempting to, onto his feet as the frenzied attempt and slick material still grasping his body slipped upon the dark stones of the floor. “What have you done to me?”

“Reborn. We made a deal that you would give your life to me to help your friend. You are in a world beyond your own, I could not have you bringing disease from your lands into my own.” The Elf spoke as if she had done this before, staring upon him with a judgmental demeanor. “Consider yourself lucky, not many survived the process. I had to take you out of storage for my endeavors and now, you have the opportunity to work off your debt.” She’d gesture towards the man next to her, now clearing his eyes he was able to make out his features. A similar man of elven descent with those deep amethyst eyes he’d sure would flicker as they stared through him. “Clean him up, Red -- bring him to his quarters when you’re done.” She’d turn and begin to make her way from view with the echo of clicks from her heel as she retreated beyond his perception.

“I don’t .. what … help. .?” His voice squeaked out in confusion as the man known as Red stepped forward, offering his hand to which Jon hesitantly stared towards.

“I won’t hurt you.” The depth of his voice resonated with a tone of melancholy understanding, flexing his fingers. “I had the same reaction as you when I was reborn. Honestly, I fell out of the tank and rolled down the steps.” The casual amusement from his voice was clear, Jon reaching before gripping it firmly in response, pulling himself to his feet and dusting off - well, nothing, an odd scrape of his hands against his body revealed a further secrets to his new body was that of an extremely toned and vascular frame, Jon looked himself up and down with a curious glance.

“Built from scratch to accompany your soul, used it as a foundation.. Uriya mentioned something odd about the spellwork as she was completing it. Something about rejection probabilities. .”

“Hold on - spell? Spellwork? Like, magic?” Jon, startled, glanced at Red who appeared just as dumbfounded as the other.

“Spellwork. Arcana? Did you hit your head or something?”

“.. Yeah, I think I did. .” Shaking his head, Jon gestured forward, scraping his nose with his arm. “Where can I clean this stuff off me? It’s starting to get sticky.”

“Oh! Right! Sorry, right this way.”

The two traveled through a corridor, dimly lit by a row of crystalline torches on either side of them. The stone, dark in hue appeared to absorb some of the ambient light from these torches and offer their own returning glow. Between the masonry, a sliver of natural light broke through to catch his attention. The landscape covered by the warmth of a crimson star, bathed by late afternoon or early morning revealed grassy plains and mountains blockading the horizon from prying eyes. “..S’beautiful.” Jon made an idle comment, continuing on.

The odd sensation of loneliness crept over his shoulder as Red and he traveled through the maze of what he’d assume to be a castle. “Where is everyone?” Jon perked up, glancing at the back of Red’s head.

“Ah -- you’ll come to understand soon enough, there aren’t many of us, but we find a way to make it work. We’ll explain further when you’re cleaned up, less naked and presentable.”

“Oh-” Jon covered himself, almost having forgotten about how bare he was in front of a stranger, clearing his throat with an awkward countenance.

The two had remained silent for the remainder of the journey until they had reached the end of the corridor, a flight or two of stairs and he’d emerge into the showers. Slabs of stone separated showerheads of intricate design, as if the entire room was designed by an architect obsessed with the darker hues of the color spectrum. Soaps were laid out on the countertop, and Red offered him a wave before cutting about a corner. “Continue down the hallway when you’re done, you’ll find your name above your room.”

Smelling fresh, and clean of the fluid that had coated him, Jon returned outside of the shower to find a towel before the door and a bathrobe with a small note signed atop of it. ‘Uriya has requested that you return to your quarters for rest. Remember, down the hall!’ - Red. The paper felt odd in his hand, foreign, still - a body that was not his own felt like he was wearing a suit of flesh. Wrapping himself into the fur before attempting to remember the directions to his room.

The door with his name written in an odd calligraphy stood between him and rest, placing his hand against the knob to open it. The reflection of the surfaces was difficult to adjust to, as the light was far brighter within the room than the rest of the stone and composite materials making up the maze of corridors. His quarters reminded him of the bedroom in his apartment, albeit small but there was more of a slicker feel to the architecture. Molded with more steel hues than whites and the dresser had a larger mirror that appeared to encompass a good section of the wall. A golden adornment surrounded the glass, decorated in engravings that made little sense to him.. Jon caught some attention to the detail of his new figure in the mirror as he passed it, reinforcing the circumstances.

“How brain-dead am I? Am I dead? Dead dead, or is this some sick ‘reliving your last moments’ before dead?” A huff of frustration as he haphazardly tossed the robe atop the dresser and approached the bed and fell against the cushion. Less than the springs, and more of a cloud cushioned his fall. A thread count beyond what he could afford tickled his body as the exhaustion began to drag him into unconsciousness.

* Sensory input attunement complete, revitalizing additional neural pathways. •

* Welcome to your tutorial, are you ready to begin? •

* Yes • No •

Jon’s eyes grazed over the input screen in front of him, hanging over the side of the bed before shaking his head with a nonchalance. “Sure, fuck it. What else could happen?”