00__ A Squall

Not too warm, not too cold.
Such was the morning sun.

Not too sweet, not too bitter.
Such was the smell of petrichor.

In between things, bittersweet things.
Ones which existed only in areas of gray.

Such things were always his favourites.
Though he could not remember why.

As the drowsiness of a long slumber slowly faded, he began to sense his surroundings. The cold stone of the altar against his back, the damp, still air entering his lungs - lungs which felt all too foreign and small, much like the rest of his body.

How long did he sleep? Was it long enough for his own body to feel alien to him?

He slowly opened his eyes. The flowerbed was the first thing that caught his attention.

Small motes of light dancing on red flowers. Were they fireflies? Yet they made no noise, and moved no substance. They simply were.

Their flight of many, together with the wet overgrown grass, carved rocky walls of a cave entrance, and rays of peeking sunlight from above gave the scenery a uniquely oneiric quality, leading him to question if he were still asleep.

He reached out for these lights, and they all scattered to avoid his touch.
They circled back and forth just out of reach, as if teasingly asking him to keep trying.

He wanted to catch them, so he leapt to his feet despite feeling stiff, weak, and heavier than what he was used to. The disconnect made him seem like a newborn taking his first steps. Still, he followed them briefly, guided by their giggles as they beckoned for him among the vegetation.

When he made his way through the tall grass, his hands moved to shield his eyes from the light.

Small steps in blindness, held short of a fall only thanks to the wind discouraging his momentum.

The first sight was of his feet far too close to a dizzying height that made his legs look even smaller.

He stood silent.

His hands still shielded his eyes, but they could do little - a vision spanning hundreds of kilometers was something his small fingers just weren’t meant to deal with.

Far away was a storm so violent he immediately traced the culprit of the wounds on the earth below, the steps of wild winds leaving a chaotic gash on the earth as if a giant had triumphed over another, and its entrails spilled to the sides.

Parts of the earth never bothered to come back down, floating above in disrespect to all laws known to him.
Maybe the floating mountains were just doing their best to survive, running from what happened below.

Energy flickered over the entirety of this sea of mountains and hills and dense forests with trees tall enough to claim that the clouds were once close friends to their canopy.

In the wake of the storm, punctures in reality pushed and pulled everything around them, creating rivers of roots and rain and rocks slowly flowing the wrong direction into somewhere unseen.

Nebulae of fire danced in the air like schools of jellyfish, consuming whatever they passed through, not too far from where lightning saw a spot, then skipped somewhere else in an eccentric and flickering flourish, already chasing the next shiny thing.

Creatures fought against the elements both on the earth and in the skies and in the lakes that froze over and melted back every minute.

Some he couldn’t tell apart from the elements themselves, others were too large to measure, and none were familiar.

One titan stepped on ruins he failed to notice before, roads and pavements and houses mixed and mashed into the same paste of the remains of an entire region.

Before his thoughts could move onto wondering the fates of whoever lived here, he saw the moving fortresses of steel waiting just outside the impact zone.

An entire city’s worth of people, merely waiting and observing from inside protective force fields and towers and walls of metal inscribed with strange arcane sigils that had no difficulty enduring the world just outside.

An armada of aircraft floated above the fortifications, the center ship alone was so imposing he couldn’t tell if the weather above or the creatures below or the magic all around were even the most dangerous things in his view at all anymore.

The biting cold dragged him back to reality. Whatever thoughts he had seeing this unfamiliar world had to wait.

A singular question reigned above all others, having won a battle hard fought and finding a way to make all else seem desaturated.

???
’How the fuck do I get down from here?’

He sat down, legs dangling on the edge of the fall, like a child on a swing.
He couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe seeing too much had knocked a screw loose?
Or maybe he had always been like that.
Which was worse?

???
“Hmm… can I even survive this?”

The winds blew past again, and the cold nibbling on his skin as if begging for attention was a pitiful reminder that he had nothing but thin rags to his name.
No food, a mountain too tall, a place too hostile, a body too weak.
He stopped to calculate his odds.

When the gales told him to brace for another nibble, he walked back towards the entrance of the cave. Shelter from the elements first, he thought.

And the entrance… was not there. Gone and vanished, with no trace or sound, as if it never existed.

Maybe it was blown out like a candle’s flame, picked up by the winds that bothered him, or eaten by the mountain he stood on.

What stood there was simply the altar and the flowers and the plants, this small hollow still much warmer than the outside.

He smiled - oddly comforted by this cozy, warm respite.

Yet… behind the comfort, the questions loomed over him.

What is this place?
How did I get here?
Why am I here?
… who am I?

As cramped as this tiny place was, it was not as cramped as his mind.
Behind the walls in his head, things moved in the fog.
Some felt too large to disturb and too dreadful to witness directly.

He decided it was best not to antagonize these walls.

With wandering eyes, he noticed a glint at the foot of the altar.

A worn-out plaque, with only one remaining passage.

marker for interaction
{{fx:terminal:1.0:1.0}}

“
Forget not - the anthems we pray.
We’ll be together again, on one fateful day.
”

{{/fx}}
marker for interaction

The promise was tender, but weathered, like a prayer kept alive long after the fields had yellowed.
The hollowness inside was its first gift, the vague longing was the second.
Both gifts married into a third: a smile he couldn’t quite defend.

All so sweet and all so bitter… the plaque, the petrichor and the morning light sneaking through.

He traced the letters, but despite waiting, nothing happened.

???
’… no answers, then…’

He walked away, and looked to the horizon again.

???
’…. at least the view is gorgeous.’

He felt tired for some reason. Defeat had long settled in and paid for a room and a bed in his mind without his consent.

???
’Very little chance out, and I don’t really care enough to try…’

Why try when you lack both the push of the past and the pull of the future?

???
’Guess I will just sit here… enjoy the view… if hunger gets too painful I’ll just jump, whatever.’

A gorgeous view with a pathetic fade.
A gray area, just his shade.

He stretched, admiring the rising sun and readying himself to enjoy what little time he had left.

As if life would ever allow someone to simply say ‘no’ so cleanly.

A sharp, painful headache shot through him with no warning. He could only flinch and close his eyes, bracing against the ground so he wouldn’t stumble towards the ledge.

When he came to, all he saw was the transparent display. Layered over his vision, casting no light or shadow. Yet it didn’t feel foreign at all - more like a familiar pair of glasses he’d forgotten he was wearing.

[ID Found]
[Access Level Restoration in Progress]

???
’… ready to tell me who I am?’

[WARNING]
[EDGE CASE DETECTED]

???
’… what the fuck?’

[WARN…]
[EDG…]
[SECUR…]

The pain grew sharper with each notification that seemed to scroll endlessly, cutting deeper and deeper inside his skull.

All senses faded and flickered and shut down unpredictably as his body froze under the stress.

Minutes? Hours? Seconds?
He couldn’t tell.

When he came to, the pain being gone just as suddenly as it came, all he could feel were his hands and knees bruised on the rocks, the lack of air in his lungs and the sweat drenching his whole body.

Did he vomit too? Or was it just spit between his mouth and the ground?

[TEMPORARY PROTECTIVE MEASURE IN PLACE]
[Shell preservation. Rate of access restoration throttled.]

[Current Level of Access: UNDEFINED]
[Proceed with caution.]

The winds picked up again, this time the cold even more unbearable with the sweat on his body.

???
[Cinza?]

The notification made him flinch, bracing himself for pain.

Cinza
’… you’re not gonna do that again, right?’

???
[I apologize. It was unavoidable.]
[There is more I need to show you.]
[Please read it, Cinza.]

[Milestone Quest Received]
[Heirloom]
[
This is your last life, and the only gift I ever had the chance of giving you.
I’m sorry, ≆̵͓̟̂͌≆̷̞̀≆̸̭̒≆̴̳̣͔̍̈́̕≆̸̺̳̃͝≆̶̩̊̌͝≆̵͓̟̂͌≆̷̞̀≆̸̭̒≆̴̳̣͔̍̈́̕≆̸̺̳̃͝≆̶̩̊̌͝.
I pray this is enough. I pray that this reaches you.

OBJECTIVES
Find the sinners you call family // 0%
Find the ones who hurt you the most, yet you could never hate // 0%
Uncover who you were, who you are now and who you are meant to be // 0%
Discover your happiness, at least once // 0%
And… find me, please // 0%
]

He understood none of it.
Even so, his chest felt heavy. Something felt stuck in his throat.
His hands clutched his stomach, aching from anxiety or the heaving from earlier, he couldn’t tell.

But even as tears escaped his eyes, he sighed.

For now… he was asked to try.
For someone with nothing but rags, that had to be enough.

The lifeless, aimlessly dark irises sparked with a white light as if reflecting the light of the world for the first time, for but a moment.

He looked down, making sure to remember all landmarks, especially what looked like a temporary encampment at the foot of the mountain, which could be his best hope.

???
[What will you do, Cinza?]

Cinza
“Fine. I will try, one last time.”

Somehow he could tell.
Somewhere in this world, someone smiled at his choice.

A painful, warm smile.

[Quest Accepted]
[ACQUIRED BLESSING: ■■■■■■■■■■]

And so he walked, one foot after another, eyes avoidant of the long road, trusting the thread that guided him somewhere.