I opened my eyes with a guttural cry of unbearable pain that pierced every cell of my body. Around was the same darkness, but now I felt that I was on something absolutely icy.
And in the process of my awakening I jerked, fell off from somewhere, but thank God, I managed to put my hands out in front of me. Otherwise I would have smashed my face against... against something hard. And just as icy, that chills everything — palms, feet, torso, ass...
Jumping to my feet, I hugged myself with my arms, trying to warm up a little and understand what the hell was going on. My hand habitually brushed over the old scar on my forearm... Wait a minute!
"However," I muttered, feeling the mark of the wound from a distant past. "Is this how it should be?"
It seemed that the Voice was not going to answer me. Or help. Well, I agreed myself, no point in hoping for others.
True, right now I really wanted to understand what exactly I had signed up for. I hope not for naked walks through cold vast expanses. On the other hand, if the Voice fulfilled its part of the deal... does it matter?
Absolute darkness reigned around, through which absolutely nothing could be seen — you could poke out an eye.
And silence. No rustle, no creak, no breath of breeze.
But there was also cold. Fierce, beastly. It was felt by every cell of the body — especially characteristically the teeth reacted to it, which found it very difficult to touch each other. The sensation as if I had fallen into a huge freezer — and the steam escaping from my mouth with each exhale only complemented the picture.
Standing in one place without moving — senseless. You can get sick that way. And considering the ambiguity of the situation — the idea of catching a cold somewhere unknown — is not the most pleasant.
"Au!" I felt something elongated, metallic in front of me with my hands. Seems like a table. I could bet that's exactly where I fell from. "Anyone there?"
My eyes gradually got used to the new sensations, and in the darkness the outlines of the objects around me began to appear. On one hand, it became easier on the soul when I realized that I was not in an open field with a bare ass... And on the other... I don't like cold dark rooms too much.
From what I could see, this is definitely a small room, with fairly high ceilings. Several pieces of furniture arranged on the floor. And not the slightest hint of lighting. Or of whoever might have dragged me here. Though, he didn't promise anything. No help, no advice... Only that I would end up in a familiar place.
And a bunch of problems on top.
Life had beaten me in all sorts of ways, but I don't remember such places in my past. Or when I was in such good physical shape. Probably since my youth and sports sections. Then... it wasn't up to that.
"Damn jokes," the profanity seemed to give me strength.
What was that eternal Russian question? "What to do?" Well, I would like to know too. But let's add questions "Where am I?" and "What's happening?" At least some briefing would be nice, instead of straight into the hole, hoping I'll swim out.
Or is this some perverted sense of humor from the cotton-like bitches?
Well, Micha, don't wake up trouble while everything is quiet. But nothing is visible... Nothing at all, in general.
So, how do the blind get around? Slowly, step by step, uh, your mandolin, how cold! Better not catch a cold, otherwise a snotty chick in a dark room — not much fun.
Well, let's hope that everything went according to plan. And something tells me I don't want to think about whose exactly.
From memory I began to perform exercise complexes to warm up the muscles and somehow warm up. But this led to completely different consequences than I expected.
No, it got warmer. And brighter.
The pitch darkness began to dissipate little by little. The reason for this was numerous lamps scattered in the corners of the room. Similar in something to vertical posts, with a thickening in the middle, they had many glass lamps arranged in a row one above the other.
Hm, something familiar.
As well as the walls of uniform rusty color, with geometric shapes over the paint. Elements of marsh-green painting also evoked a sense of déjà vu. In my memory something swirled... As if you know the word, but don't remember how it's pronounced...
Ceiling, walls — they seemed to radiate light from dozens of lighting fixtures of the most diverse shapes. As if sparing my eyes, the sunny yellow light did not rush to fill the entire room at once. Instead, its intensity increased with every second.
For a moment, I had to squint to allow my pupils to get used to the change in illumination. Covering my face with my palms, I stood in the cold, shivering like an autumn leaf in the wind. And only after realizing that the light penetrated even through the closed eyelids and the fingers of my palms, I slowly opened them, looking around.
"This is already something new," I muttered, looking around. The temperature in the room had noticeably risen — despite the fact that it was still cold here, I felt that the light was warming my body. Like sun rays on a clear summer day. It seems the local builders are not very familiar with energy-saving lamp technology...
It became light enough to look around and examine every detail. It's still cold, but I have no one to apologize to... I'm here all alone, it seems.
If you don't count a couple of oval panels, whose pedestals with stern strokes of a perfectionist reminded of the laws of geometry. The indicator backlighting on the panels, made with lifeless white light, flooded unfamiliar control devices to me. Glass, plastic buttons, tiny regulators, more glass... hm... things...
"Oy, how I don't like all this," I grumbled, no longer doubting what was happening.
No need to rub your eyes or pinch yourself — this setting is well known to me. It seems I misunderstood the Voice. Yes, he sent me to a known place. But in my past life I personally was never here.
I just watched something similar on a TV screen and laptop, watching an old (it's been twenty years since the last episode came out⁉) series about another American adventure in the vast Universe for all good against all bad.
Having thought for a couple of seconds, I slapped myself across the cheek with my palm. It hurt. So I'm not sleeping.
"Good feasting and marveling," I muttered. "Sobered up — shed tears. No mermaid, but ashamed before the catfish... Affairs-a-a-a"
I stood in the middle of the Ancients' laboratory — characteristic geometric pattern of the interior, familiar control panels. Even the pattern on the floor — all this pointed only to one place where I could be.
Atlantis. No, nonsense! Nonsense!
"I hope this is a very, very bad dream," I muttered, approaching one of the panels closer. A multitude of buttons, touch screens, regulators, miniature switches... "Well, I agree to strong pre-death hallucinations."
There was still the option that it was cold here because this was not the lost city of the Ancients in the Pegasus galaxy, but an outpost of the same race, but on mother Earth, in Antarctica... That version would explain the cold. And the series didn't detail what was there besides a few locations. Understandably, sets are expensive, but... That was a series!
No, seriously, this isn't a prank⁈
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that some sections of the walls around me began to move. It took a few seconds — and monitors started working in front of me, continuously covered with characteristic squiggles of the ancient language.
What the fuck is happening⁈ The complex, whatever it is, reacts to my movements? That's why more and more equipment turns on? So, and in the series did the Ancients' technology react in a similar way? Seems yes, to all people... Sort of.
Taking a step back, I rested the lower part of my back against the edge of the Ancients' lab table, whose center — snow-white surface with quirks of geometric shapes — I really didn't like. And it's not even that the device resembles lab glass on which experimenters-biologists apply the substance being studied.
But in that this thing... It's hard to even describe it... At the base something like a truncated polygonal pyramid, the surface... To hell with it! What the fuck is happening here⁈
I might have watched something in this universe a long time ago, but I perfectly remember that the "classic isekai" doesn't appear there. And here... I'm clearly in my own, but very well-developed body. And at my age? With a desk job?
I rushed to the nearest dark screen on the wall. No, not to figure out the symbols flashing on the matrix of the ancient language. I don't know in principle how these symbols are translated and deciphered. I remember there was even a translator on fan sites, written by some die-hard, but... No, seriously, learn a fictional language?
Afraid that's for Tolkienists. Or Klingon fans. Well, or whoever else.
The monitor interested me only in one of its properties — the reflecting surface. Poorly or not, but I could make out my appearance in it. No, really mine! A simple Slavic face with slightly protruding cheekbones and deeply set eyes, high forehead, short crew cut hair... I didn't look like this even after the army!
"Wonderful new world," I muttered.
So.
I'm somewhere on the territory mastered by the Ancients — not necessarily that this is Atlantis or an Ancient outpost. Just these are the first associations that come to mind.
I'm in a young and strong, and most importantly, my own body.
And... Now I would understand in what time of the universe I ended up. The very fact that I ended up in the fictional TV and book-comic universe of "Stargate" has to be taken as a fact. Of course, the option remains that this is all a cruel joke or the ravings of a dying man, but...
Marina... If the Voice kept its word, if she is alive and her life has become happy, is it worth reflecting? No, of course not. I agreed "without looking." So, aside soul-searching, let's get to the point.
First — need clothes, otherwise I'll freeze here.
Then — scout the area and understand where exactly I was thrown.
Third — realize not only where I am, but when. And in what fucking galaxy. Or if I was thrown into some Ori galaxy...
Hm... It would also be nice to understand if I have any Ancient perks, like their gene that allows controlling their complex technologies, or telekinesis, or...
Wait, stop. Calm, only calm.
Answers to questions will wait for solving urgent tasks. Clothes, reconnaissance, getting answers...
Ay, to hell with it!
Seeing some thing standing on the console and not being part of it, I reached out my hand to it, concentrated as much as I could, sending my desire to the universe to pull the piece of glass to me... No, it didn't work.
Well, didn't live as Jedi, no point starting. Time to start searching this little room, maybe there's something useful to me here.
Already in the process of rummaging through the corners, with careful detachment from everything that resembled some Ancient device, I caught myself thinking that there are several more options for what is happening to me. I dismissed them immediately, as I felt the cold, and seemed to be hungry...
But this lab table... It spoils the whole picture with oil.
The thing is that on such a setup in the series they created replicators in the Pegasus galaxy. And those guys — these are humanoid machines consisting of nano-robots, nanites. With a full set of abilities from mad Skynet — desire to kill their masters, ability to program machines with a touch, pass through walls...
Am I a replicator?
That would explain a lot...
Though, who am I kidding, what would that explain at all? How do I check it? There, slapped myself, felt pain. And when I woke up, it hurt too. So, conditionally, of course, I'm still human. Really, who would program a robot for human feelings?
No, of course, you can organize a radical check to be sure... Replicators don't bleed, and wounds in humanoid form or in organic but with nanites inside heal faster than on a dog. But! Enough suffering nonsense! Cut myself with some old iron found by chance to see if blood flows? To hell with such thoughts!
It seems that from excess emotions the porridge in my head starts to burn. Too many questions, too few answers. I can't afford to ask questions that don't relate to my current situation. Globally, I'm now naked and unarmed, without understanding what's happening around, I can't change anything in my fate.
And if there was no one here at my awakening, no one came to my cries (and detecting an intruder on their territory in the Ancients' lair is simple), then it's worth thinking less and doing more. Either I'm completely alone in the area, or they might come for me soon. After all, from the darkness and turning on equipment it's clear that this laboratory-room-compartment or whatever it is, is not being operated at the moment by the owners... wherever I am. Hm... Or maybe I'm in that part of the city that the Earth expedition members haven't found and searched yet? That would be a number...
Or I might not be with the Ancients at all, but with the Asurans, those very replicators from the Pegasus galaxy. And they don't like humans much. And at certain times, they just hate them. So...
I slapped myself another one. It worked like a shot to the temple — all thoughts flew out of my head.
So, enough! Time to stop this bargaining with myself. Saving the drowning man — the work of the drowning man himself. And drowning in the abyss of the unknown here is only me.
Rubbing my palms together more to occupy my head with some business than with crazy ideas from the series "What if⁉", I suddenly realized that it wasn't so cold around. Yes, the floor is icy and my feet are freezing, but the air... Not Sahara during the day, of course, but no steam from the mouth either.
Ah, so whatever this place is, it's adjusting to comfortable conditions for me. Life support system, I think that's what it's called. Good. If only some six-legged metal spider brought food and drink... No, to hell with all these metal-spiders. In this universe seeing such a bastard — a sure way to die.
Having finished inspecting the room, I realized that the entrance, which is also the exit, is one here. And to the side of the door panel three crystals arranged vertically glow with bluish light. Worth running your hand over them, and the automation will work and... Something will happen.
Good, but that's later.
For starters, not finding anything freely lying on the floor or devices, I came to the conclusion that there are something like cabinets with small windows in the walls. Something is inside them. But it's not worth climbing there yet — what if some alarm goes off?
Having glanced around the room, I stopped in front of one of the monitors, which, unlike the others, continued to remain deactivated. Black screen, without the slightest signs of text, diagrams, desktop screensavers... Non-working equipment?
But only... Something wrong with this monitor. More precisely, on the contrary. It is of perfectly correct shape — a rectangle elongated vertically. And if you look at the other screens, they are in the form of hypertrophied broken parallelepipeds, rhombuses, squares, with beveled corners...
And this one of familiar shape... Hm... This is no accident.
The serene black nothing, in the reflection of which I could make out my own face. Without a doubt — this is my face. And my body. If the Voice created me like this here, then... I suppose he is from the Ancients. And more precisely, from that part of them that Ascended — rejected human bodies and became pure energy.
But there are doubts — the Ascended don't meddle with people. They have a code of rules on their plane of existence about what can and cannot be done. And such twists... I doubt they are among the permitted.
Well, that's all later. But the thought that I talked to an Ancient and he arranged this tour into the unknown for me doesn't add joy. As far as I remember, direct interventions in human affairs, the Ascended carry out only when there is no other way out except the coming of total Armageddon.
A shiver ran down my spine.
Something is definitely happening here! Not to say that I'm very upset, after all I agreed myself, but still! I wouldn't mind a "briefing"! It really wouldn't hurt!
Looking at my reflection, I noticed that something was happening on the screen in the meantime. Some flash of light in the accumulation of darkness to the right of the place where I was illuminated a small area around itself for a moment and immediately disappeared, giving birth to a huge bubble of air rising upward. Through the thickness of water.
In that moment that the light flashed, I managed to make out in the distance, hundreds of meters from me, many tall buildings of the most diverse shapes and configurations. Round, square, polygonal, inclined towers... located on a platform in the form of a "snowflake." And I... I seem to be in the neighboring part with the flooded one... part... part... Atlantis.
And here I broke into a sweat. This is no monitor at all!
This is a window! A porthole, if you like. If you take into account that Atlantis is still a ship. And it doesn't matter — space or sea. This city has been in both qualities. And from this it didn't get better — I had to accept on faith that I really, somehow ended up on Atlantis.
And now what I saw is clearly air escaping from the flooding room! The city under water! And it's sinking!
***
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