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It was a beautiful day for everyone in the city of Metropolis. The sun kissed the skyscrapers like an old lover, and the streets bustled with the hustle and bustle of carefree passersby, oblivious to the secrets woven at the world's margins.
In a large park, deep within the trees... Under the immense canopy of an oak tree, a young man lay prostrate on the soft layer of undergrowth. He woke slowly, his eyes snapping open to the intensity of the blue sky, dotted with lazy clouds that seemed to mock his confusion. A dull, throbbing pain hammered at his temples.
With a grimace of agony, he sat up, holding his head in his hands. "Why does my head hurt so much...?" he murmured, feeling deeply bewildered, unable to evoke or understand what had happened moments before. His entire body protested, a symphony of aching muscles.
He stood up with difficulty, and it was then that reality hit him with a second shock: he was barefoot. He felt the cool, damp texture of the meadow beneath the soles of his feet. A light breeze caressed the grass, and the open air barely mitigated the wave of nausea rising in his throat. He looked around, still in pain; all he saw were more trees.
But between the branches, something flashed: the silvery outline of impossible buildings. Metropolis. The name hit him like a lightning bolt—not because of geographic familiarity, but due to a deeper echo, pulled from the pages of comic books and late-night movie marathons.
Then, his hands touched something long and smooth. It was hair... "What the hell!" he growled, confused, his heart beating like an out-of-control drum.
How had he ended up here? The last thing he remembered was the torrential rain against foggy windows, spilled beer on a makeshift table, and the noisy party where Bryan had dragged him with that "trust me, it's going to be epic" smile. "Ugh... I should never have hung out with him. My friends and that new guy definitely played a prank on me," he muttered, running his fingers through that treacherous hair that fell to his shoulders, silky and green as if it belonged to someone else. His original hair was black—or whatever this used to be—his hair was a short, rebellious mess, not this smooth cascade that looked like it came straight out of a reincarnation anime.
He swiped it away from his face with a frustrated hand, and the movement made his stomach churn. A prank. Yes, it had to be that. Bryan and the idiots in the group, with their obsession with "viral challenges." They drugged me with something, dumped me here without shoes, and now they're waiting for me to scream like in a TikTok video.
"They're so stupid!" he whispered, his voice thick with irritation as he tried to clear his head. But a detail made him stop dead in his tracks. "Huh...?"
He looked at his body with a mixture of surprise and repulsion, noticing that he was no longer wearing his clothes, but a completely alien outfit: a garment he recognized immediately as that of an anime character.
"This clothing... it's from an anime character. It's Enkidu's," he murmured, incredulity tinting his voice. "But how did they know I watch anime?"
"Those sons of bitches!" he hissed furiously, tugging at the loose white tunic as if he could tear it off and exorcise the strangeness. His breathing quickened.
"They took my clothes, and I'm in another city. I can see one of those buildings from here... It's not my city..."
He brought his hand to his face, fingers pressing his temples, and let out a long, bitter sigh of resignation.
"First, I'll have to ask where I am and find a taxi," he said, his voice returning to a tone of tense calm.
He began to walk with a slow, irregular gait. He felt exposed and strange being barefoot. "I'm going to make sure I sue those idiots," he said, frustration tightening his voice. With that empty threat, he slowly disappeared among the trees.
He emerged from the thicket, his hands tangling in the long hair falling down his back, trying to pull off the wig which, to his surprise, felt firmly attached to his head.
"Aah!" he exclaimed with a yank, the pain sharp. "What the shit! They shaved my head and glued a wig on me! They really crossed the line, those bastards..." His indignation was evident, and his voice revealed deep annoyance, but a stray thought slipped through his fury. "At least I'll give them five points for keeping the Enkidu cosplay accurate."
He let go of the hair, only to look around for someone to tell him what city he was in. Enkidu's hair looks so real, where did they buy it? It looks so real... he thought, still scanning for people.
"Yes!" the young man exclaimed, an affirmation that was more of a resigned acknowledgment of his situation than a response to anything external. From afar, on the dusty path, he could make out the figure of a woman jogging toward him.
Her silhouette grew sharper with every stride. He walked a bit faster, aiming to close the distance. His mind was already formulating the questions he needed to ask.
He stopped abruptly, planting himself right in the middle of the path to intercept her. At the same time, he made a conscious effort to soften the look of annoyance on his face and modulate his voice.
"Excuse me, miss..." he spoke in a calm, almost neutral tone, but with a slight smile intended to dispel any potential alarm.
The woman, who until then had been jogging with her gaze fixed forward, absorbed in her music, stopped when she saw a young person step into her path.
With a fluid motion, she pulled the earbuds from her ears, the muffled sound of her music cutting off abruptly. She looked at him with an expression of slight surprise and curiosity, arching an eyebrow. She gave him a quick, polite, yet somewhat distant smile.
"Yes? Do you need help with something?" she asked in a helpful, light tone while adjusting the sweatband on her wrist. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the young man's clothing, but she quickly looked away without asking questions. "I'm in the middle of my routine, so can you be brief, honey?"
He felt a bit ridiculous in his outfit, but the urgency of the situation forced him to continue.
"Well, it's just..." he began, his voice faltering for a moment. His hand, almost by inertia, went to his head, touching the "wig" before dropping back down. "Can you tell me where I am?"
The woman blinked, the curiosity on her face giving way to genuine perplexity. Her kind smile faltered a bit.
"Are you... joking?" she asked, tilting her head with a slight accent the young man didn't recognize. "You're in Metropolis, dear. Are you okay? You look a bit lost..."
"I'm fine, miss, thank you," he said, cutting the sentence short with almost robotic speed. The mention of "Metropolis" had set off a loud alarm in his mind, canceling any need for further explanation.
Without even waiting for a response or saying goodbye, he turned abruptly and walked away quickly, disappearing back into the trees from which he had come.
His Enkidu tunic billowed as he fled. The woman watched him with a furrowed brow, her kind expression now replaced by genuine confusion. She then noticed the strangest detail: the young man wasn't wearing anything on his feet.
"Was he barefoot?" the jogger murmured to herself, the question hanging in the air. She placed a hand on her hip, watching the exact spot where the cosplayer had disappeared.
"Metropolis just keeps getting weirder," she sighed, and with a shrug, she put her headphones back in and resumed her jog, picking up the rhythm of her routine as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
The young man stayed hidden behind a tree, watching the blonde woman walk away. He leaned against the trunk, his back tense, his face marked by sheer confusion.
"What really happened?" he whispered. "Did she say... Metropolis?"
Incredulity hit him. "Is this a prank? No, impossible. Not even they have the money to hire actors." He shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "Better go see if it's true. And while I'm at it, calm down..."
He stepped out of his hiding place to look for an exit.
A good while later...
The park was buzzing with life: people walking, others sitting on benches, tossing breadcrumbs to the pigeons. It was a brutal contrast to the protagonist's inner chaos.
Near a fountain, a young person—whose gender seemed uncertain—stared fixedly at their reflection in the water. In a panic, they touched their face. Then, they splashed ice-cold water on their face, trying to wake up from a nightmare, but everything was real.
"How is this possible?" they gasped, the voice echoing in their ears. "I really am Enkidu! That's why I felt so light... Now I look like a woman or, maybe, a tomboy."
All my masculine features vanished—my muscles, my beard... gone.
Behind him, several people were watching. A little girl eating ice cream tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mom, what is that hippie doing?" the little girl asked.
The mother pulled her away discreetly. "I don't know, honey, but don't go near. Probably a drug addict. Let's go."
Nearby, an old man sitting on a bench made an audible comment: "In my day... if we saw one of those nature-loving hippies, my brothers and I would give 'em a beating. Heh, heh, good times. But I can't hit a woman; it's my code," the grandfather said, standing up to throw the last bit of bread to the pigeons.
The girl, curious, asked her mother: "Mommy, what did the old man say?"
"I don't know, dear," the mother replied quickly. "He's probably crazy too, just like that girl screaming at the fountain."
At the park entrance, some police officers were standing with a lady. The lady, with a furrowed brow and chin held high, walked with a firm stride.
"Officer, that delinquent is a danger; that kind of rabble shouldn't be here," she said in a tone of absolute superiority.
"Please, Karen, this is the seventh time you've called us to kick someone out," the officer replied, his voice exhausted. His eyes focused on a girl shouting and gesturing near the fountain.
"There! That's her!" she pointed her finger at our protagonist. "That brat is breaking the peace of the park!"
The officers behind their chief let out a sigh of annoyance. "Here we go again... hope it's quick, right, Carlo?"
"Yeah, man," one of the officers replied, already rolling his shoulders in preparation.
Meanwhile, with Enkidu...
"This has to be a fucking dream! It still feels so real... Wait a minute..." Panic froze his face. He moved his hand like a lightning bolt to his crotch. The tension lasted only a second.
He calmed down quickly and let out a sigh of relief. "My friend is still there..."
An authoritative shout snapped him out of his bubble:
"Hey, stay still! Miss, please take your hands off the weapon!" the officer shouted behind him, gun drawn and face hardened.
Enkidu's blood turned to ice.
"Huh? Who, me?" he managed to articulate, his voice a mere thread. "But I don't have a weapon!" He said, now on high alert. This is bad... the reincarnated soul thought, now in full panic. He raised his hands slowly, his brain working at a thousand miles per hour.
Escape? His old body was fast, but would this new body be fast or not? Or... would he have Enkidu's powers? The dilemma paralyzed him on the spot.
End of Chapter