"You were on a mission with ten other agents," Dr. Bolton explained gently. "Your team was ambushed by an armed group. Three agents died at the scene. Three others, including yourself, sustained severe injuries. You were the most critical case. Doctors at a local hospital stabilized you before you were transported back here."
She paused.
"You've been in a coma for six months, Mr. King."
Mission?
Then the original owner of this body had served these people. He had been injured while carrying out his duties, and they had healed him.
Interesting.
I studied the doctor for a moment before speaking.
"I'm not sure you understood me correctly."
She frowned as she removed her gloves.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said that everything is blurry."
I met her gaze directly.
"I remember nothing."
Her expression changed immediately.
"Nothing?" she repeated carefully. "You mean you have no memories from before the mission?"
I silently nodded.
A heavy silence settled between us.
"I see." Dr. Bolton sighed. "We'll need to conduct several more examinations before I can give you a final diagnosis or discuss treatment options."
She offered me a reassuring smile.
"We're going to perform an MRI scan. Please follow me."
I rose and followed her out of the room.
The hallways of this place were long, spotless, and brightly lit. Men and women dressed in white and blue passed us occasionally, each carrying strange devices or stacks of paper.
As we walked, Dr. Bolton glanced back at me.
"Mr. King, did you cause the damage to the window in your room?"
"Hm?"
There was little point in lying.
They already knew.
The same was true for the woman I had frightened earlier. Somehow, these people had observed my actions without being physically present.
How?
Then I remembered the black sphere attached to the corner of the ceiling. It had emitted a blinking red light and followed my movements. A surveillance device.
Primitive, but effective.
"I didn't intend to damage it," I replied truthfully. "I only leaned against it for a moment."
I tilted my head.
"Is glass usually that fragile on this world?"
Dr. Bolton nearly stumbled.
"Fragile?" she repeated. "That was reinforced security glass. A normal human couldn't break it."
Her eyes lingered on me a moment longer, suspicion briefly surfacing before she looked away.
Noted.
I should restrain my strength, at least until I understood this world. Otherwise, I risked drawing unnecessary attention.
I suddenly found myself wondering something.
If I found a way to return...
What exactly would I return to?
My kingdom had fallen.
My father was dead.
My companions were dead.
The war was over.
There was nothing waiting for me. The realization settled heavily in my chest. For the first time since awakening, I felt truly alone.
"Mr. King?"
I blinked.
"We're here."
We had stopped in front of a large metal door.
The next several hours passed in an endless cycle of examinations.
I was placed inside a large machine that resembled a narrow cave and instructed not to move. Afterwards came blood tests, neurological examinations, reflex tests, memory assessments, and countless other procedures.
These people relied heavily on machines.
It reminded me of a distant civilization I had once visited—one that had abandoned magic in favor of technology. That civilization no longer existed.
Thankfully, none of the examinations revealed the truth.
No one realized that the soul inhabiting this body was not its original owner.
Eventually, I was returned to my room.
Dr. Bolton informed me that my team leader and direct supervisor were currently unavailable. However, a close teammate would be arriving shortly.
I spent the waiting period observing the city through the cracked window.
An hour later, the door opened.
A broad-shouldered man with brown hair strode inside.
The moment he saw me, his entire face lit up.
"Ian!" he exclaimed. "Man, it's good to see you awake!"
Before I could react, I found myself pulled into a crushing embrace.
He patted my back repeatedly with enough force to rattle my bones.
I stiffened.
Physical affection between warriors was not uncommon among my people, so I tolerated it.
More importantly, I sensed no hostility from him.
Only relief.
Genuine relief.
He finally stepped back, grinning.
"You scared the hell out of us, man."
For the next several minutes, he talked almost nonstop.
Apparently, after the failed mission, the entire team had been placed on leave to recover and mourn their fallen comrades. Only recently had they resumed active duty.
The original owner of this body must have been well-liked.
The thought was strangely uncomfortable.
I was wearing another man's face.
"So," he continued, pulling a chair closer, "the doctors said you've got some serious memory loss."
I nodded.
"Yeah. They also said you're going to need to relearn pretty much everything before they clear you for duty."
He scratched the back of his neck.
"Boss said if you don't want to go back into the field right away, he can transfer you to a desk position for a while."
"I would like some time to consider it," I said honestly. "Though first, I need to relearn the difference between a desk position and field work."
He blinked.
"Oh. Right."
Then he laughed.
"My bad."
He stood and lifted a large duffel bag onto the bed.
"Anyway, the doctor cleared you to leave. I stopped by your dorm and grabbed some of your stuff."
He looked oddly pleased with himself.
"Thought you'd need it."
I stared at the bag.
He stared back expectantly.
I stared harder.
The silence stretched.
Eventually, he frowned.
"...Ian?"
How exactly was one supposed to open this thing?
Surely tearing it apart would be frowned upon.
The man slowly narrowed his eyes.
"Wait."
He pointed at me.
"Did you forget common stuff too?"
I remained silent.
He sighed dramatically.
"Oh, man."
Stepping forward, he unzipped the bag and began pulling items out.
Clothing.
Books.
Various unfamiliar objects.
He held up one of them.
"What is that?" I asked.
He froze.
"Seriously?"
I nodded.
He stared at me for several long seconds.
"Dude," he said slowly, "that's a toothbrush."
He shook his head before breaking into laughter.
"I've got a lot to teach you, don't I?"