"Ugh…"
I woke up feeling unusually dizzy, with all my senses dulled.
"Ugh… what the hell."
I blinked a couple of times, trying to focus, to adjust to the light flooding my vision. My breathing became laboured for no reason; my chest rose and fell heavily, as if I'd just run a marathon.
"Where…?" I muttered without realising it; my voice was hoarse and dry, which puzzled me a little. But I didn't think too much of it.
I got out of bed and pressed my hands to my temples, trying to ease the migraine.
After a few seconds, I managed to calm the intense pain gnawing at me a little…
"Eh," I muttered, bewildered.
I found myself in a strange place, a small, dark, dilapidated room.
The walls were full of cracks, and in one corner lay a heap of rags that could barely be called clothes. An icy breeze blew in through a broken window, ruffling my hair, whilst a cold sweat trickled down my back.
"Gulp..." I swallowed involuntarily.
"H-have I been kidnapped?" I muttered to myself, quickly feeling my body.
"Phew..."
After a few seconds, I sighed with relief; fortunately, I was still in one piece.
Even so... I was still nervous.
I couldn't understand why they'd brought me here.
I didn't owe anyone anything, I wasn't involved in any romantic entanglements, nor was I rich; I was just someone slightly famous—at most, a mid-tier streamer.
So… what on earth was going on?! I asked myself.
As I stood there bewildered, the door in front of me burst open with a sharp creak that made my skin crawl.
Instantly, a figure came running in. It was a girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old, very thin, with tangled hair falling over her shoulders. Her clothes were torn, old, covered in stains I couldn't identify. Her bare feet pounded the wooden floor and for a moment I thought a plank would break under her weight.
'Brother, brother, quick, we're going to miss the train!' she exclaimed urgently, her eyes shining with a mixture of fear and determination.
Before I could react, she moved towards me and grabbed my hand tightly.
"Eh? W-wait…" I stammered, unable to pull away.
I wanted to ask what was happening, where I was, who she was and why she was addressing me so intimately, but the words wouldn't come out. I barely had the strength to stand, and yet she was pulling me along with surprising energy.
The floor creaked again as she dragged me towards the exit, and with every step my confusion grew.
"A train? What on earth is this girl talking about?
With my body weak and my head still spinning, I had neither the time nor the strength to resist her grip. I let myself be led along, stumbling like a rag doll.
The station wasn't far. We turned a few corners and crossed some alleyways, until we finally reached a huge building blackened by soot, with plumes of smoke rising into the sky. The air smelled of iron and the gloomy atmosphere reminded me of the 20th century, similar to the early days of the Great Depression.
There were crowds of people coming and going; men in heavy coats, women carrying baskets, barefoot children running through the throng. Every face that passed seemed hardened by poverty. Every now and then I felt stares fixed upon me, cold and contemptuous, as if my very presence were a nuisance. I instinctively lowered my gaze, feeling uncomfortable.
I prepared to go in with everyone else, following the flow, when suddenly the girl tugged hard at my arm.
'Brother, what are you doing!' she said, almost reproachfully.
'Aren't… we supposed to go in?' I replied, bewildered.
She looked at me as if I'd said the most stupid thing in the world. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Don't be silly… that carriage is only for 'citizens'."
The word struck me.
"Citizens…?" I repeated under my breath, not understanding.
Before I could ask her anything else, I felt a sharp blow to my side. I was shoved aside, making me stagger.
"Argh!" I groaned, clutching my ribs.
"What are you doing blocking the way, filthy wipers…" spat a burly man, dressed in a leather coat, as he looked at us with revulsion.
His gaze was venomous, as if we were rubbish.
The girl lowered her head immediately and replied quickly, her voice trembling.
"U-uh, s-sorry, sir…"
The man snorted, taking a step forward. The smell of stale tobacco clung to his coat.
"Apologies, is it? Do you really think that's enough? "You scum should know your place and crawl back down the sewer you came from."
She squeezed my wrist tightly, trembling, but still bowed her head slightly in submission.
"We didn't mean to cause trouble, we just… we just made a mistake."
The man let out a harsh laugh, his gaze growing more suspicious.
My blood boiled as I listened to an adult speak so contemptuously to a girl; I was tempted to intervene, but the grip on my wrist tightened, silencing my words.
'Sir…' the girl insisted, her voice weaker, 'it won't happen again. It won't happen again. Please…'
The man looked her up and down, clicked his tongue in contempt and, after a grunt, reluctantly stepped aside.
"Tch… get out of my sight, before I change my mind," he finally said.
The girl pulled me away immediately and I barely had time to turn around. I just caught a glimpse of that haughty man boarding the main carriage.
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, their unsettling conversation flashed through my mind:
"Wipers… citizens… those words sounded strangely familiar to me."
For a moment, an absurd idea crossed my mind, but I shook it off as quickly as it had come.
"No… it's impossible, I'm overthinking this," I told myself, pressing my lips together.
Without realising it, we had walked quite a distance when I heard the girl let out a sigh of relief.
"That was a close call… if the officers had turned up, I don't even want to imagine what would have happened…" she murmured, her voice still trembling.
She stopped and looked me straight in the eye, with those eyes full of purity that baffled me.
"Brother, you're acting really strange today… are you feeling all right?" she asked, with concern.
I felt a strange lump in my chest. The way she called me "brother" didn't sound fake; I didn't feel like I was being pranked with hidden cameras or anything like that.
"Sure… I'm fine, fine…" I replied slowly, with a hint of doubt.
She seemed to want to say something else, but a sharp beep cut the conversation short. The train was about to leave.
"Come on!" she exclaimed, taking my hand again.
The same train stretched out before us, but this time we headed for one of the carriages at the back. It looked very different: the peeling paint revealed the damp wood beneath, several windows were cracked or patched with planks, and the metal of the handrails was corroded by rust. The air there was thicker, thick with soot and grease.
An inspector with a stern face, his cap tilted to one side and wearing a worn grey coat, was waiting by the door. He gave us a fleeting, almost annoyed glance as the girl took two crumpled tickets from her pocket and handed them to him carefully. The man checked them, clicked his tongue and, without a word, raised his hand to let us through.
The interior smelled of damp and coal. The wooden floor creaked beneath our footsteps; the benches—long planks—were packed. There were no compartments or comforts; just a narrow, noisy, stifling space.
We walked carefully to where there was a free space: a worn wooden bench, barely big enough for two people. I settled down by the window, trying not to prick myself on any of the protruding splinters, and the girl sat down beside me.
The train's whistle sounded again, and shortly afterwards the carriage shook with a harsh rattle as it set off.
A bitter sensation ran through my body. As if every vibration were pounding my bones. I tried to distract myself by looking out of the window, hoping to clear my mind a little and rid myself of this discomfort that was pressing on my chest. But when I looked up, I froze, bewildered by the figure reflected in the glass.
The silhouette in the glass had my own face, but it wasn't mine: reflected there was a gaunt young man, with pale skin and dull blue eyes. His hair, black and ragged, fell in messy strands over a thin, unkempt face… and yet, unmistakable.
It was the very character I had created.
A shiver ran down my spine. What on earth…?
For a moment, the absurd idea that had previously crossed my mind struck me with force: had I fallen into the game? Was this Epidemic World?