It was a somewhat strange sensation. Like being surrounded by a large mass of cold water, too cold.
Even so, the tranquility he felt floating in those waters was surprising.
For the first time in a long while, the young man felt a welcoming peace and calm; perhaps this was what death was like, a cold sensation of peace, like an eternal sleep.
Though, at the same time, something didn't add up.
[Urgent Mission: get out of the water and survive.]
[Rewards: Memories of ***** - Mirror of Vainglory]
A robotic voice sounded in his head, followed by an immediate sensation of euphoria.
The boy felt his pulse accelerate wildly, as if he'd received a shot of adrenaline.
His eyes opened; the water was clear enough to see through.
It was like waking abruptly from a dream, with no time to react.
The boy's survival instinct kicked in, forcing him to move his arms and legs desperately.
The poor effectiveness of that struggle then forced the boy to act; as soon as he regained some composure, he swam with all his strength toward the surface.
The current was weak, and thanks to that, swimming to shore was considerably easy.
The boy crawled out onto the surface. The shore was full of stones, but the boy didn't have the luxury of complaining.
As soon as he got out of that aquatic hell, the boy threw himself onto the ground, completely exhausted.
It was then that he started coughing, an instinctive reflex seeking to expel the water from his lungs and replace it with fresh air; those gulps of air were like reaching heaven.
But his happiness was short-lived. As soon as his brain deactivated survival mode, hell descended upon the poor man.
First, he felt his lungs burning inside his chest; then, a crushing cold that seeped into his bones.
A slight tremor took hold of him as he curled into a ball.
His fingers and nose felt colder than any other part of his body, though he was also starting to lose feeling in them.
The cold was devastating, but the exhaustion was stronger.
The boy started to feel everything blurring again; his eyelids became too heavy.
He knew that sensation, it was death's sweet embrace, he'd already experienced it once.
Then, before losing consciousness, a voice became audible. It was a distant voice, but it sounded closer and closer.
However, the language that voice was speaking was indecipherable, or at least at first.
The boy felt how little by little the words he heard became more and more familiar, but before he could understand anything, his consciousness had already faded.
***
The young man's eyelids opened slowly.
It wasn't as cold anymore, but he wasn't completely safe.
He was wrapped in something; it was soft, very soft, he almost felt like he could slip inside that wrapping.
Little by little, he regained consciousness. His life was no longer in danger, but the exhaustion remained.
Even so, the inevitable curiosity the boy felt at that moment was too persistent.
He was no longer on the shore, and besides, he was moving.
He could hear the earth crunching beneath his savior's feet; yes, that was the most logical conclusion, since someone was definitely carrying him right now.
Still, there was something odd.
Right now he was being held by two arms, curled up. In itself, it was more than strange, it was impossible.
While his body wasn't that of a bodybuilder, it wasn't light.
Even at his young age, a well-fed man as fit as him couldn't be carried so easily, there was something strange about all of this.
While he didn't feel anything out of place, it was obvious that something didn't add up.
However, his exhaustion was too great to dwell on it. Feeling that he was now safe, the boy let sleep take him again.