Sezel's eyes darted around, his brain struggling to catch up with the sudden, jarring shift in scenery. One moment, he was drowning in a pond of black goo in hell; the next, he was restrained on a metallic bed, staring at a ceiling that was distressingly solid.
Well, this is a new and exciting flavor of 'being screwed'. I will guess this is all an illusion.
But there were the countless rifles aimed at him, their barrels glinting under harsh fluorescent light.
Or maybe. I've been rescued by people who want to shoot me.
He pushed against the restraints, muscles burning, but they held firm, denying him even the dignity of sitting upright.
He struggled, stirring, pinned down to a bed.
"VGGFF!@@YY," a soldier barked, his voice laced with a fury that was universally understandable, even if the words were gibberish.
Sezel gulped hard as realization clawed. He was back in the real world, no longer in the Spirit Realm's black atmosphere, but restrained in a foreign land. That was not the best way to return back, but the sheer joy of seeing humans, of the truth that he was back, made his eyes water—tears of happiness.
But it was not the best time to be sentimental. The soldiers' stances softened, their eyes narrowing as if questioning his humanity.
"SHHYV@@^^#," another soldier, taller, his face slick with sweat, bellowed, anger masking fear.
Shit. Of all the places to end up, I get transported to a foreign country where I'm public enemy number one.
On the other hand, it could have been worse. He could have ended up in the middle of an ocean. Given his luck, that was a very real possibility. So, he decided to count his blessings.
He cleared his mind and took stock. So, this is some kind of army confinement. And I'm the main attraction.
He raised his head, his voice hoarse but steady. "I'm human," he declared, hoping the universal language of "please don't shoot me" would translate.
It didn't.
The taller man raised his arm, his face twisting in alarm. Rifles cocked in unison, the sound a series of sharp, metallic clicks that made Sezel's heart lurch.
Ok, this is bad. Maybe I should just stay silent.
No one moved. The room fell into a dangerous silence, the guns still locked on the boy, restrained on the bed. Suddenly, The door clicked open.
He stopped, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look at Sezel.
Sezel turned to see who it was, very much interested in finding the identity of the new person that had entered to see the alien.
A man emerged, weaving carefully through the soldiers, his movements almost comical in their precision, as if avoiding invisible threads. His brown hair, thin as silk, fell to his shoulders, swaying with each step. Unlike the soldiers' uniforms, he wore a modern, oversized T-shirt and trousers, making him seem the odd one out in the sea of identical fishes. Sunglasses perched on his nose, glinting under the lights.
Finally, he glanced at Sezel, their gaze meeting through his sunglasses. He stopped, pulling his sunglasses down a little and locked his black eyes on Sezel, making a confused expression.
He stepped forward.
"BUSG^^%G," the tall soldier barked, his voice trembling, his face twisted in something Sezel couldn't identify—fear?
Why are they so scared of me?. Do I look like a monster? Just if you exclude a little miracle of his left hand regrowing and the wound in his chest closing on its own, he was a perfectly normal human.
The odd man replied to him in their language, as if trying to assure the other man of something. He resumed his approach, stopping beside Sezel's bed, his figure casting a shadow that dimmed the harsh light.
What now? Is he going to be the one to shoot me?
Shattering Sezel's every expectation, the man offered him a warm, genuine smile and sat beside him. "Hello there," he said, his voice clear, his words in Sezel's own language.
For the first time since this whole nightmare began, Sezel felt a flicker of genuine hope. A smile, weak but real, touched his lips. "H..he.llo," he stammered.
Finally uttering the words—however they might be—he sighed.
The man gave him a simple nod, looking up at the ceiling for a second, then he again turned to Sezel and asked slowly, "Who are you?" each word measured.
Sezel tried his best to give a quick response, "I am ..." but he stopped, his mind spiraling into chaos. Who was he? Sezel himself didn't know the answer to that question.
The excitement on his face died down, turning into a thoughtful trance. After pondering a little, he replied in a grim voice as if disappointed by the answer himself, "I am just an orphan, a nobody." The truth stung, his life a fleeting shadow in a world that never cared.
The man's expression softened. He patted Sezel's arm, then turned to the soldiers and said something in their language. Their expressions were a sight to behold, especially the taller man, who looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon.
The man rose and headed for the door, but paused, his gaze lingering on Sezel. "I'll be waiting for you," he whispered, the words carrying a weight that Sezel couldn't quite decipher. The door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the silence and confusion. Waiting for me to do what?