The world was absent.
There was no bottom, no beginning, no end. Only a suffocating fog—thick, white, endless. Each breath felt heavy, like dragging in ash. The silence carried tension, as though something unseen pressed against the air itself.
Rynos did not know how he had arrived here.
Then, through the haze, a figure emerged. Human-shaped at first glance, a faint light flickering behind it. With that, the fog recoiled, clearing just enough to reveal what lingered.
It was a humanoid thing, but wrong. Its only feature was a mouth—wide, jagged, lined with sharp teeth. When it spoke, the sound did not leave its lips. Instead, it vibrated through Rynos' bones, humming inside his skull, a voice he could not escape.
"Why are you here? This place is not meant for mortals. So—" the voice grew louder, harsh, tearing at the air, "—tell me, why are you here?"
Rynos stared, trembling, lips barely able to form words. His voice cracked as he whispered, "I… I don't know where this is… or what you are."
For a moment, silence. His words echoed unnaturally across the void.
Then the creature replied, voice calm again, almost deliberate:
"I am many things. What I am depends on who stands before me. To you for what I know right now is that I am a messenger. And I carry something meant only for you—something tied to your existence. As for what this place is…" its grin widened, "you are not meant to know."
Rynos' heart pounded, but he forced himself to stand straighter. If this being was truly a messenger for him, perhaps it meant no harm. He swallowed and asked carefully, "If you are my messenger… then what is the message?"
The creature raised its arm and sliced through the fog. The void shifted. A massive bronze table stretched into existence—so long Rynos could not see its end. At its farthest edge sat a single object: an oddly shaped bottle.
The figure strode forward, seizing the bottle. As it approached, its footsteps seemed to echo without sound. Holding the vessel tight, it leaned closer.
"The message… is to drink."
Fear overtook him. Rynos spun to run—but his body refused to move. His legs locked, his muscles seized, as though the air itself had trapped him. Slowly, he turned back—and the creature was already there.
His head throbbed, each pulse sharp enough to split bone. A shrill ringing echoed in his ears, mingling with the steady beeping of unseen machines.
Rynos stirred, his body sluggish, drenched in haze. Every limb ached faintly, as if he had been broken and pieced back together. When his eyes opened, the air felt heavy, pressing against his chest.
He raised a hand. Bandages wrapped him from palm to shoulder, layer upon layer. His body was swathed in the same way, as though he had been twisted and torn apart in slow manner
A shadow moved. He lifted his gaze and met the eyes of a lady dressed in white clothes which looked like a nurses. For a heartbeat, her face froze—shock written across it. Then she screamed. Yet beneath her cry, he thought he saw… relief.
Who Is she calling the doctor? The thought slid through his mind, thick with confusion.
Her voice reached him again, hurried, frantic. But the words—he could not understand them. To his ears they were nonsense, tangled sounds without meaning.
What is this? What's going on?
The questions tumbled through Rynos' mind. What did I just say? Am I… mumbling? His thoughts felt slippery, like they were trying to escape him.
Then—like water smoothing over jagged stone—the strange, alien sounds spilling from the nurse's mouth shifted. They sharpened. Aligned. Became words he could understand.
"Hurry, hurry! Doctor, the boy's awake!"
Rynos froze. How…? Just moments ago her voice had been nothing but incoherent noise. Now every word landed clear and sharp, as if something inside him had clicked into place.
The curtain rustled. A man in a white coat hurried in, footsteps quick and uneven. Rynos blinked up at him.
I guess this is the doctor, he thought, unsure whether he should be relieved or more afraid.
The man stopped beside the bed, breathing slightly unsteady. His expression… overjoyed. Too overjoyed. His eyes shone with something deeper than simple concern for a patient—almost like disbelief Or awe.
Rynos' gaze drifted past the doctor, toward a metal sign bolted to the wall. At first the writing meant nothing—just unfamiliar marks, sharp and angular.
Then the characters moved.
They lifted from the surface like dust caught in a sudden wind, hovering in the air. Each symbol twisted, reshaping itself, swirling around him in slow, deliberate circles. His breath caught. The room felt colder.
And then—just as suddenly—the letters fell back into place, snapping into a form he could understand.
Do not make noise.
Rynos stared at the sign, stunned. His heart lurched, but he forced his face to remain still, calm, pretending nothing had happened. Slowly, he turned back to the doctor, as though the world hadn't just rewritten itself before his eyes.
The man stepped closer and adjusted his coat.
"Hello," he said gently. "I'm your doctor. There's no need to worry. You look… troubled."
Troubled? Of course I'm troubled, Rynos thought, his mind still foggy. How in the world did I end up here wrapped in bandages? And what was with that strange language? And… wasn't I somewhere else before this? Something white… a figure…
The memory slipped away the moment he reached for it.
"Are you okay?" the doctor asked. "Can you speak? Is something on your mind?"
Rynos turned his head toward him and forced his voice to rise, slow and strained.
"S… sorry. The pain… it's hard to bear. Talking is a little difficult."
"Oh—dear, my apologies!" the doctor blurted out, flustered. "I'm the one who should've realized that. Please forgive me."
"It's alright," Rynos replied quietly. "No harm done."
He hesitated, then asked, "Could you tell me how I got here? Why am I injured and bandaged? I… can't remember anything."
The doctor's expression shifted—confusion, caution, something like disbelief.
"I was hoping you could tell us that," he said. "Because the injuries you were found with were far from ordinary."
Rynos' breath caught.
"You had four… bullet wounds to your forehead," the doctor continued carefully, "and a deep abdominal injury where your stomach was torn open and your liver with many shallow cuts,it shouldn't' have been survivable."
The nurse, still hovering by the doorway, clasped her hands.
"We were preparing… to declare the time of death," she said softly. "But you kept breathing. It's a miracle. A gift from our Goddess."
"Yes," the doctor agreed, voice hushed. "An unbelievable one."
"What are you talking about?" Rynos blurted out, disbelief spilling into his voice. "Are you sure you're not pulling my leg? This is just a joke, right?"
"Dear goodness, no," the doctor said at once.
Rynos exhaled sharply, agitation creeping in. "Then how am I alive? No one goes through something like that and just… lives." His brow furrowed. "And if I really survived, why is the pain in my lower abdomen fading? It feels like it's healing. That doesn't make any sense."
He let out a strained laugh, grasping for a reason. "Ah—okay. I get it now. This must be one of those live prank shows on TV, right?"
The doctor stared at him, puzzled. The nurse looked equally lost, glancing between them as if unsure who was unwell.
Rynos' smile faltered. He raised an eyebrow, then asked again—this time quieter, fear threading his words.
"…Right?"
The doctor slowly shook his head. "No."
He hesitated, then frowned. "How could this be a prank? And… 'TV'—what is that? Is it an abbreviation for something?"
The room fell silent.
Rynos' face tightened, confusion giving way to unease.
"If you're saying I had four gunshot wounds to my head…" he asked slowly, "…then do I have holes in my head?"
The doctor studied him for a moment before answering.
"If that's a question that finally makes sense," he said, "then no. The holes aren't there anymore."