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Chapter 8 - Reality

Day 1:

"HEY ZEPHYR, SHUT UP…"

Abruptly, his senses became unclogged. Sound, smell, and a mixture of odd, jagged, wet touch overtook him in a sudden burst like a crashing wave. 

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Damp stone and stale air along with the unmistakable stench of decay and mildew, flooded his nostrils. The air was thick and suffocating, broken only by muffled groans and hisses that slithered through the stillness like snakes.

Yet his mind latched onto that persistent dripping—until a voice shattered his trance.

"ZEPHYR!!"

Something cold abruptly struck his face; a sudden, chilling wave rattled his spine. He recoiled instinctively nearly falling, his left arm colliding with something sharp that, oddly, registered no pain or feeling.

His eyes flew open, adjusting to the dim light cast by dying torches. 

He was in a box made of cracked stone, one that was the size of a king-size bedroom with its ceiling extending high. 

Empty shackles hung from the mossy, uneven wall, and the jagged, sharp ground had puddles which was clearly the source of that decaying smell. 

It was only when his eyes landed on the set of rusted bars to his right did he realize where he truly was.

A prison cell…

There was a slight moment of shock before Joseph realized what happened, his face returning to its usual demeanour as everything flooded into him all at once.

_________________________

Zephyr

I am a calm person, frighteningly so for most others… But now, my calmness frightens even me.

'I'm… dead? This is a reincarnation... A new world. I'm sure of it.'

Looking at myself and surroundings, that was the first conclusion that my mind came to. To me, this was oddly sound; as though it was a feeling instilled in my very being. 

Short limbs… I'm… in the body of a child? In a prison cell? 

What kind of person was the previous owner of this body? What happened to them? Did they die and I took over? Why am I here? Did someone put me here?

I strained my mind for answers, yet no previous knowledge from this body returned. Instead, something else did…

As I sat, fragments of memory trickled back like water through cracked stone. Memories of my life on earth…

'Nina… dear sister… All those memories were real… but merely a dream... They must have been...'

Last thing I remembered before waking was my consciousness fading into black as that factory erupted into chaos. Everything beyond that point existed in fragments, obscured by a deep veil of shadows.

I knew there was more—

Beyond there, I was aware of certain things, but the full picture eluded me.

I knew certain things with absolute certainty. I reached the apex of strength, Ki mastery, and power in the underworld... My code name was Wolf... I nearly lost my arm once during a mission... My best friend's name was Allen... I paused, eye twitching slightly. Best friend?

Hundreds of tiny fragments locked into place, some carrying more weight than others, each one I was certain was true, they were my memories after all. With these pieces, it was safe to assume that I didn't perish that night in the factory. No— that was an impossibility.

Although my last clear memory was when I was twelve, I have a feeling my current mental age was no doubt higher. I was certainly not that same naive child.

'Why only fragments? Why has my memory been corrupted? Is this a side effect of reincarnation?' I had no idea. 

Still, the most crucial fragments remained had yet to return… The ones that mattered most—my dear Nina's fate.

I tried squeezing my mind for an answer, yet only two things surfaced... No, three...

First: 'I kept her safe...'

Second: 'We will meet again... I promise...'

And third, a phrase that echoed in my ears, causing my entire body to pulse with its rhythm: "BROTHER!! PLEASE LIVE!!! I WANT YOU TO LIVE!!!"

'Did I die protecting her? Or was it a natural death?' I strained my mind for answers, but only the infinite mist of shadows that shrouded my memories emerged.

Eventually, I surrendered to the futility of that path and concentrated on the other words... 'I kept her safe... We will meet again...' I pondered their implications…

'What could that mean? Could she also be in this world? I guess it'd be best if I go with the flow for now until I can find answers…'

'Then—'

"ZEPHYR!!!"

_________________________

"ZEPHYR!!" That voice, now ringing louder than ever, snapped him out of his inner stupor. 

From the absolute darkness it came, and his gaze immediately followed— A voice that had always been there but that he had only just noticed, the voice of a female he did not recognize. 

He turned his head, and there he saw:

She stood before him,a girl no older than twelve with hair white as winter moonlight, falling over her shoulders in wild disarray. Filthy prison garb hung from her small frame, the dull brown fabric making her pale, dirt-smudged skin seem almost translucent.

Her eyes were like chips of ice floating in a murky sea, cold and piercing, as if trying to see right through him. They glinted in the faded light, reflecting the dying torchlight like twin stars in a polluted sky.

Tall and proud she stood with her spine straight as an arrow and her head held high. Her movements were graceful and fluid, like a bird in flight, despite the shackles that bound her limbs grounded.

Although she had an appearance similar to that of a feral trapped animal, there was a sense of quiet dignity about her that would have commanded fear and respect from anyone if it weren't him.

Suddenly, something changed; her movements slowed, the ferocity of her eyes softened, and her gaze began to waver.

She took one step back and pointed, "ZEPHYR!! What's wrong with you!? How dare you not respond to me when I question you! Know your place, servant boy!"

No response.

The silence that grew between them made the fetid air even more suffocating.

'This isn't english… but… I can understand her? Of all things in this world, why can I speak and understand the language? No other knowledge and memories? What makes this special?'

Quickly, Joseph got over his initial shock, and brought his mind back to reality.

'So I must be a slave or a servant… My name is Zephyr… And she must be my owner it seems… '

"HEY I SAID—"

His gaze was solely on the ground, only taking slight peaks up towards the girl to probe her reaction. 

Now was not the time to be arrogant.

'I have no memories from the owner of this body.'

He lacked power— the power of knowledge.

For one to survive, they must know what to expect. Fighting an invisible enemy was an assured loss. 

Right now he was no different than a newborn— For all he knew this entire world was underground, fat people were seen as attractive, pee was stored in the balls, and the laws of physics did not apply. 

This world was completely alien to him. He knew not his own strength nor that of this girl. Nor did he know her status and name, power dynamics, or what got him in this prison cell. He was completely unaware of who he was and how he fit in.

In theory, one wrong step may spell certain death.

But to question existence itself as he knew it was a tremendous mental burden, even for him. For now, it was best to assume things functioned as he knew, and identify any contradictions as he encountered them. For now, things seemed very earth-like.

Seeing how she was his 'master' it was safe to assume she was more powerful than he was, or at the very least someone of significant importance to Zephyr's life. 

It was best he lay low— speak and interact as little as possible; act normal for now and simply examine. 'That's what anyone with more than half a brain cell would do,' Joseph concluded.

He had seen and even been a part of many master-servant relationships in his past. In fact, he had been on both sides and knew precisely how to act— even the slightest change of demeanour he could pick up on. One could say he was even a connoisseur.

Yet in this darkness, it became infinitely harder to discern. 

"Apologies, mistress. This servant must have lost his composure and had a nightmare." Joseph knelt, his voice soft but clear.

He waited patiently for her response, but she remained still, her unfinished sentence hanging in the air.

Is she in shock? Over something so simple? What kind of person was this Zephyr?

The room descended into silence, but not for long.

"HEY!! WHAT'S WITH THE SHOUTING!! QUIET DOWN RUNTS!!" A rumbling voice cut through the silence like lightning. 

A gust of stale air swept through the chamber, making the torches dance wildly, casting grotesque shadows across the walls.

Heads snapped toward the rusted cell bars where a man, no, a giant stood. His silhouette was massive, towering above like a mountain of flesh and metal, his features shrouded in a thick miasma of darkness that left only his pricking eyes gleaming as if they were burning coals in a dark furnace peaking through his helm. 

Cold sweat trickled down the girl's forehead as she unconsciously retreated a step. Her breathing, suddenly shallow, became the only sound she could hear.

'It's him. That very same prison guard…' She gritted her teeth and thought to herself.

Her gaze narrowed. At that moment, an urge overcame her, one that burned like hot needles screaming at her to act. Yet, there she was, her body frozen stiff as if icy tendrils wrapped around her thighs. 

'Oh 'High Priestess', give me strength…'

The more she stared into his burning eyes, the more she could feel the weight of his gaze close in on her. 

Yet even still, she could not allow herself to look away.

It was only when she noticed what was directly in front of her did her face take on a completely new expression.

'Zephyr!?'

Her face widened. There, only a few steps away from the cell bars, that boy stood, breaths away from that man. Part of her thought he was crazy, that he was so frozen in fear, that he had simply forgotten to flee. But nevertheless, there was a deeper instinct that whispered otherwise. 

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