After a week of unconsciousness, Oren finally woke up.
He allowed himself to remain in that pleasant stillness of sleep's inertia, doing nothing but breathing.
'...There was a storm?'
It was quite obvious. He could smell the damp scent of rain lingering from outside and see the morning light shining through the stained-glass window beside his bed.
For a moment, the red hues illuminating the stained glass pulled him back to the cluttered attic he had left in devastation, staring up at a crimson sky with his blood-soaked eyes, watching the sunrise.
In the next instant, he found himself in the unfamiliar room, wrapped in an unfamiliar blanket.
Yet even in this place, a strange sense of familiarity lingered.
He was in a bed. Around him were things he knew well, a desk and a chair, a wardrobe and a cabinet.
But most of all, he was alive.
For some reason, his mind remained apathetic and calm, as though it did not matter, until something suddenly clicked.
Oren's eyes widened, the reaction slightly lagging behind his thoughts, as he looked down at himself.
He was wearing ice-white robes that weren't his own. Bandages, were now tightly wrapped beneath them.
'Wait! How, why am I here? Wasn't I... dead!'
Before he could process it, his hands were already at his face, inspecting it with crude awe, as though it might disappear.
He traced his lips, then brushed his fingers over the marks on his face, once sliced, bruised, and scarred now...
'Healed.'
The words slipped out of his mouth as he looked at the bandages, which were clearly the expertise of another.
"Who did this... where are they now? Who are they? Man, women? Young or old..."
Either way, he knew it was something, that there was someone, watching, a spectator to his "death."
But even then, 'How is this possible?'
What plausible excuse was there for how he was miraculously healed and granted a new life, a second chance.
Oren's eyes brightened as goosebumps rose across his body.
A dull ache suddenly radiated throughout his body, confusion seeping into his face.
It was unusual. He felt unsettled, uneasy, confused.
Vulnerable and empty, he could no longer feel the vastness of his soul or the life within him, something so mundane to him, something which he had forsaken.
Not even the presence of his anchor existed in its ethereal depths.
Oren moved his arms back and forth, clenching his fingers and then releasing them.
'Heh…'
He sniffed in disbelief.
'…Irony. Oh, the irony! Am I really a mortal?'
The thought was calm, filled with an undeniable serenity that came with surviving, yet there was also an instability, as though he had lost something so little, and yet everything he had left.
His face slowly twisted in disdain as he stared down at his feeble hands.
'Was this the damned realm's doing?'
He had heard of something once, the curse of a ruined realm. It was said that the pure is separated from that which is not.
That was the price of existence.
Thus, every ruined realm bears a curse to separate them from what was pure.
Many assumed that one must pay a price when entering, and that was why no one had ever returned.
Even then, people rarely believed it, because most information on myths was scarce. It seemed the price Oren paid was what made him divine.
What made him whole.
His golden eyes widened slightly, the disdain becoming something bitter.
He had been the lowest of divinity, an Antherion, but because of his own ignorance, he did not ascend further when—
Something shifted.
The faint, fearsome smile on his face vanished in an instant, and an unfamiliar impulse gripped him, forcing his hand to his neck as he stifled any sound.
A shadow shifted across the cramped room. From the bleak corner, a voice devoid of emotion spoke.
"How distasteful…"
The voice was restrained, eager to continue speaking.
"I was the one who saved your life! I've been here the whole time. And you only just noticed."
The voice lowered an octave.
"Or was it simply too obvious for you? No, that couldn't be it. Well, maybe, just a little. I couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be complications. I am only human, after all."
Oren suddenly froze, his breath returning to his lungs as his eyes darted sharply across the room.
'This mortal is my saviour?'
The bandages were proof that he had been saved.
The dust thinned as Oren focused, his abyssal golden eyes taking in the figure.
He had a well-built physique, and even while seated, he was tall and imperious, nothing less than imposing.
His tone betrayed such qualities, clashing with his tall, imperious appearance.
The man's abyss-black hair was long and thick, crimson eyes red like blood, skin pale like snow, perfectly contrasting like a piece of art.
The stranger wore a faintly sorrowful smile that seemed to be growing darker.
'Why is he looking at me like that?'
The man stared at Oren, searching for a gap in his robes that revealed the bandages.
Slightly taken aback, Oren's body stiffened.
"Explain, mort—" He froze.
"You saved me?"
Dismissing the bandages with a satisfied smile, he added, full of pride:
"Yes, but before you say anything, I know. I am impressed too. Just look at the work. Putting you back together was a delicate task. How do I put it? It wasn't easy."
"Still," the man added with unease, "you are alive, and that is what is important."
Oren opened his mouth, closed it, then swallowed all questions he had about being "put back together."
He gave the man a dark look.
"It doesn't make sense, how…? Why? When—"
The man clicked his tongue.
"Did you expect me to let you die there? Is that what you wanted? Is that all you have to ask, something so trivial? Not even the name of your valiant saviour."
"Well then," he chuckled. "It's been about seven days since I saved you."
He glanced away briefly as he muttered to himself. "It's hard to believe it's spring already. The trial will start soon."
Oren paused.
"Trial…?"
He avoided Oren's gaze.
"Yes. Before the Light Festival, during the Week of Darkness, maybe you know it better as the sunwane."
He tilted his head slightly. "I would've thought you'd know that already."
Watching Oren stay silent, the man sighed. "Speak up, there is no reason to be shy… I do not expect to be compensated for my deeds…"
Seeing no change in Oren's calm façade, he whispered to himself.
"A name. Very well, I shall tell you myself. You may call me… C04."
C04 leaned in. "To whom do I owe the honour of saving?"
"Oren," he finally spoke, then forced a stutter.
"I… I am sorry. Sorry that you went through the struggle of saving me. Thank you. I am forever in your debt. But I cannot repay you. I have nothing."
"Repay!?"
C04 tilted his head, resting his ankle atop his knee, an amused smile resting on his lips.
'This is going better than i suspected… He may be half-crazy, but hopefully he doesn't ask too much of me, not right now.'
Though Oren was thankful, he knew nothing of the social systems in this world. His knowledge may very well be incongruous here.
At the moment, he was assessing the situation, to better understand what had happened.
But there were no clues in the room, and this human was peculiar.
'How didn't I see him…?'
C04 leaned forward and said, his voice deceptively calm and easy-going.
"Hmmm. You don't happen to know anything about Unison, or come from beyond the mountains?"
Pushing the guilt aside, Oren smiled bitterly as he replied.
"No, sadly, I don't remember. I only recall falling, and even then I don't know the cause…"
Oren looked away, unsure whether feigning amnesia was a good call.
No one could know he wasn't from this world. If they did, who knew what they might do to him?
He didn't want to find out.
C04 said nothing, letting the silence stretch.
When Oren spoke again, he chose his words more carefully.
"It seems I… I can't really remember what led me to this state. I remember falling, but I... have forgotten my family."
Tears welled in Oren's eyes as he thought deceitfully.
'What is he thinking?'
But before Oren could tell whether the peculiar man had accepted his lie, the man spoke.
"Amnesia, that is… interesting."
C04 spoke after a brief pause.
"I am sorry for you."
Oren froze.
"Well, If you really aren't from Unison, the people of the third district may cause you trouble, especially if they realise what you did to the academy.
With the trial approaching… I'd assume you want peace."
'He wants me to join the academy?'
Seeing a dawning expression slowly form on Oren's face, C04 laughed gently.
"Do not worry. There will be no problems… for now."
His tone darkened, no longer flamboyant but serious.
On the other hand, C04's relaxed features remained calm, almost gentle, yet they still pressed against Oren's instincts like a silent weight.
"You would not want distractions, would you?"
"Distractions?"
"Yes. Well, I…" C04 looked away, staring across the room at the half-circle embedded into the window that revealed the outside world.
"I talked to the academy elders to arrange something."
A thought clicked in Oren's mind.
"You're signing me up to an academy?!"
C04 looked at him, a wry smile flickering beneath his façade.
"Oh, don't be like that. This is just a request from a… friend. You don't have to accept, and do not feel forced to say yes because this friend, in particular, saved your life."
The hairs on Oren's neck stood on end.
'How...?'
He knew this. He had even organised it, going as far as speaking to the academy. Despite his thoughts, Oren understood that joining could grant knowledge and opportunity.
Refusing would be foolish.
"If you choose to attend, the academy will give you what you lack."
C04 leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
"It will correct you, shape you, make you stronger. In this place, food, wealth, and a place to rest, there is a chance you'll have them all, if…"
"If?" Oren asked calmly.
"If you become Enlightened."
'An Enlightened?'
He regarded Oren for a moment.
"So… will you join?"
Oren grimaced, making C04's smile falter.
"You said I would have food, money, and a place to rest..."
Oren chuckled bitterly.
"Of course I will accept. I have nowhere else to go, nowhere else to return to, so I will stay here, but with one exception..."
He pondered for a moment, then added, "Tell me, what would you do if you were in my shoes? What do you advise?"
"My advice? Sure, why not," C04 replied instantly.
"Enroll. Survive the Trial. If you fail the trial—"
He sighed.
"That's not important right now. After the Trial, it's your choice. Ascend further, or live comfortably in Unison."
Either way, you will never have to worry about survival again. Once you are enlightened, life becomes much easier. Everything becomes simpler.
It will grant you free access past the border so you can stay in Unison City and be accommodated grandly."
C04 thought for a moment. His crimson eyes searched the room.
"Also, before the trial, attend as many lessons as you can. Even the smaller lectures are useful. Since I have been here a while, I don't really know…
But if I remember right, the information you gather will be valuable in your trial."
C04's chest rose, then settled as he leaned forward and stood. Before he could leave, Oren asked one final question.
"Is it so bad… me not coming from Unison, I mean? I know the townsmen cannot know I am an outsider, but what is wrong with being one?"
Oren's voice quieted.
"What about the people in the academy?"
"People…?" C04's lips curved faintly.
"This is your home for now, most certainly, but be sure to remember that there are no people here, Oren. Only candidates. You would be a fool to forget it."
He walked to the door calmly, his blood-red eyes shimmering as the iridescent light shone across the austere room.
His pale face broke into a thin, cold smile.
"Don't disappoint me, Oren."