A young man stood in the middle of a seemingly open space, an odd wind breezing through, calming him down the slightest bit. He looked down on his calloused hands in confusion, where was this? What happened? Who was he?
The man saw a reflection on the floor that seemed to be made of the purest crystal. He observed the reflection, purple lucid eyes that shone like amethyst, chin-length hair that seemed to be made out of strands of black onyx, skin as lustrous as pearls and a face and body that seemed to be carefully carved from white jade. The young man was stunned for a second before he regained his bearings. That beautiful person…that was him?
He wore a simple collared, white shirt and slightly loose jeans, a silver watch on his right hand. The young man could feel a pendant under the shirt, taking it out, he looked at a golden chain link with a brooch—it was circular and revolved around a single beautiful chrysoberyl in the middle, citrine forming loops around it and alexandrite filling in the rest, the base was actually made of carved fossil coral.
He looked around, absorbing the sight around him. The young man was astonished to see that he was in a room that seemed to be made of crystal, he took a closer look at a wall and confirmed that, yes, it really was made of actual crystal. Observing his surroundings again, he seemed to be in an apartment. The young man didn't remember anything, but the knowledge seemed to come naturally to him, it didn't seem very strange to him at least.
He took the time to walk around, wondering just what had happened. He knew something like this was unusual, at least. Everything was made of crystal and gems, sometimes precious metals. The place was familiar, as if he had walked around here thousands of times. A thought came up, that it was his living space, remade with such precious materials, but that couldn't be, right? Who would do it, maybe it wasn't even his in the first place.
The young man walked in a circle, coming back to the place where he had first started in. he was in the living room, it was rather spacious, a two person black couch facing a television on a drawer table, several game and movie discs along with the needed things to use them. A fluffy carpet—which made him wonder on how supposed amber could be so soft and fluffy—and a giant "window" as a wall. Behind the couch was a divider, separating it from the kitchen and beside that was a hallway leading to two locked bedrooms. Beside the couch, on the other side of the window wall, was a locked door that led outside.
A silent sigh came out of his mouth, frustration welling up on not remembering anything. The young man sat on the couch that was also amazingly soft and comfortable despite it being made of hematite, putting his head in his hands he tried to remember anything about anything.
A deep, low laugh cut through the silence and the young man whipped his head back to catch sight of another man there. Stunned by the sudden appearance, he can't help but stare and evaluate him.
Purple phoenix eyes as if charoite, hair traveling down in rivulets to his hips; akin to a white star sapphire, skin as lustrous as opal and a face and body carved from jadeite. The man wore a dark purple, bell-sleeved sweater and black tights. The black-haired man couldn't help but think that the other had really nice legs. A dominating aura washed through the room, making the young man freeze and continues to stare at the other man. The white-haired man looked at him almost disdainfully and told him, "Your name is Quillan."
Quillan. That name sounded familiar to hear, the young man—Quillan—absently thought.
"You may call me Ambrose. Now, if you want your memories back, you will have to do the following things." Ambrose. This name was…also familiar. Ambrose furrows his brows, clicking his fingers in front of Quillan's face to gain back the black-haired one's attention. "As I was saying, you will have to go through worlds and complete the tasks given to you perfectly. There will be no corner cutting as long as you are under my watch. For each world, you will be given the body of a resident there."
Quillan regarded Ambrose's rather dark eyes, the unwillingness and malice in those beautiful gem-like eyes made him frown. He raised his hands and thought of a response when, "You can talk, no need to use sign language."
Quillan opened his mouth and let out an "Ah…," He didn't know why, but he just felt that he was supposed to be unable to talk. "Why should I…listen to you…?"
An irritated look instantly spread across Ambrose's face and he snapped back, "You don't have a choice either way! You will only benefit from agreeing to this. You won't die even if you or I wanted to! Now shut up and go do the first world."
Quillan fell into an odd hole-portal thing that appeared below him before he could respond.