Hajin cracked his eyes open beneath a sky he never saw before, with grass tickling the backs of his fingers. No battlements loomed above him and no roofs either, only flowers nodding beyond a rise where the rubble should be.
He shoved up onto one elbow and braced for the stab in his ribs that never came.
"Huh?"
He turned both wrists under the strange light, hunting for the burns from the road and finding clean skin instead.
His fingers flexed, curled and gripped exactly as ordered, which felt suspicious rather than lucky.
'Either this isn't my body, or somebody owes me a seriously expensive explanation.'
He prodded his side through the coat, wincing in advance, and felt no broken edge grinding underneath.
"Okay, that's creepy," he muttered, patting the spot again, "really damn creepy."
