I felt nothing at first—just cold, empty silence. A void. I couldn't tell if I was awake or dreaming, floating in what felt like endless nothingness. Time didn't seem to exist here.
Then, suddenly, something flickered in my vision. A thin line. Like a sliver of light cutting through the dark.
Before I could understand what was happening, an interface appeared—no, flooded—my sight. Words, numbers, diagrams flashed before me at an impossible speed, as if a system was booting up. I couldn't keep up with any of it, and yet, somehow, I knew what it meant. It was... starting me.
Systems: Operational. Reboot complete. All functions normal.
Gravity hit me hard, pulling me down. My limbs felt heavy, and a sharp, metallic taste filled my mouth. Was I... alive?
Light slowly seeped into my eyes, blinding at first. My vision returned gradually, the dim glow of something above me coming into focus. I blinked a few times, confused. My body—was I buried?
I struggled, pushing against the weight on top of me. It was metal—scraps, debris, jagged edges cutting into me as I shifted beneath it all. I groaned and forced my arms to move, my muscles sluggish but responsive. Pain shot through me, but it wasn't the same kind of pain I remembered. This was... dulled. Almost distant.
When I finally dragged myself free, I froze, staring at the landscape around me. Mountains of metal husks. Endless piles of wreckage stretched as far as I could see. It was like some twisted graveyard of machines.
"Where... am I?" I muttered, my voice echoing in the vastness. Except it wasn't my voice. It was younger—familiar but different. The voice I had when I was in my prime.
A chill ran down my spine. No. This had to be some kind of nightmare. A cruel illusion before the afterlife. That's what this was, right?
I tried to stand, but my foot slipped, and I tumbled down the mountain of scrap, sliding until I landed with a thud. The sensation was too real—too vivid. My heart raced, my breathing heavy. Wait... was I breathing again?
I scrambled to my feet and saw a small stream of clear water trickling through the wreckage. Crawling towards it, I leaned over, desperate to see my reflection. What I saw made my stomach drop.
The face staring back at me—it was mine, but not as I remembered. My younger face. My youthful features. My hair was gray. But the skin—it was synthetic. Realistic, sure, but too perfect. Too flawless. My arms... cybernetic, metal gleaming beneath the dim light. And my torso—more machine than flesh, with a faint orange glow in the center of my chest. A circular hole, like some kind of core.
I looked into my eyes. Cold, solid. They weren't human. They were... lenses. Advanced, like something straight out of a high-tech camera.
"What... the hell is this?" I whispered to myself, barely recognizing my own voice. I stood up, hands shaking, trying to make sense of it all. The reality of it pressed down on me like the mountain of metal I'd just crawled out of.
I took a deep breath, though it felt more like instinct than necessity. "Where the hell am I?"
But no answer came. Only the eerie silence of the mechanical wasteland around me.
I stood there, staring at the endless expanse of twisted metal and forgotten machines, my mind racing. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. This place... it didn't resemble anything I had seen before, and I've seen my fair share of strange things.
I decided to inspect some of the debris. The husks of metal looked vaguely familiar—scrap piles weren't uncommon in abandoned facilities—but the shapes, the markings, the structure... they didn't belong to any technology I knew. Even in the advanced world I came from, with all the unbelievable tech we'd created, this stuff was beyond alien.
I reached down, my hands brushing against a small metallic object sticking out from a heap of wreckage. It felt cold and heavy in my hand, though there was something unnervingly smooth about its surface. No screws. No seams. Nothing to indicate how it was made. I turned it over, examining it closer, but I couldn't make sense of it.
"What the hell is this?" I muttered, my voice still strange to my ears.
But then something happened—something I wasn't prepared for.
My vision flickered. The interface from earlier appeared again, this time more controlled, more deliberate. It zoomed in on the object in my hand, as if scanning it. Words, symbols, data—too much information, all at once—flooded my vision.
Magrite Lux testing kit. Prototype Model B23. Energy absorption: 65%.
The name popped into my head instantly, like it had always been there. Magrite Lux? I had never heard of anything like that in my life. What was it supposed to be? And why did I suddenly know its energy absorption rate? None of this made any sense.
I dropped the thing back into the scrap pile, stepping back, my mind reeling. It was like I could feel more information flooding into my brain, more details trying to force their way into my consciousness. Data about materials, functions, origins. The weight of it was overwhelming.
"Stop. Stop!" I shouted, pressing my palms to my temples. I couldn't take it all in. I needed to pull myself together, or I'd lose my mind right here, buried in this graveyard of metal.
The flood of information halted. I let out a shaky breath, my body still tense, my thoughts spiraling. I took a step back and sat down, trying to calm myself. Everything about this place felt... wrong.
I knew I wasn't in my world anymore. Wherever this was, it was beyond anything I could comprehend.
Despite the alien nature of this place, my instincts told me I needed to move. I couldn't just sit there surrounded by the debris of whatever life I used to know. So, I began to wander, circling around the mountain of metal scraps that towered over me like a grave marker.
Each step felt strange, like my body was out of sync with my mind. It was still hard to believe what I had seen in the stream—that younger, cybernetic version of myself. I shook the thought away, refusing to fully accept it yet. I wasn't some machine. I couldn't be. I had to figure out how I ended up here, wherever "here" was.
As I explored, I tested my new abilities. If I focused just long enough, the interface would kick in, scanning anything I looked at or held in my hand. It worked like a second mind, identifying objects at a glance, presenting all the details with pinpoint precision.
I picked up a strange, half-broken contraption—a gear with a glowing core lodged in its center. I stared at it until the familiar flicker of the interface appeared.
Valker Gear Core. Status: Inactive. Usage: Power source for mid-tier armor units.
I raised an eyebrow and tossed it aside. I didn't need to know about armor units right now. I needed answers. Where was I? How could I activate this interface to tell me that?
I stared hard at the sky—or what passed for a sky in this place. Nothing. The interface didn't respond. I focused on the horizon. Still nothing. Just more metal and rusted wreckage for as far as I could see. No amount of willing it worked.
"Damn it," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.
Frustrated, I followed the stream of water that snaked its way through the scrap-filled valley. At least it gave me something to focus on. The further I went, the more bizarre this place felt. Like I was walking through the remains of two worlds mashed together.
Then, up ahead, something new caught my eye.
A doorway, almost hidden behind the pile of wreckage, came into view. The structure stood out in stark contrast to the endless metal landscape. As I got closer, I realized why. The walls around the entrance looked... old. Really old. They were stone, like something out of a medieval castle. Moss clung to the cracks, and the floor beneath my feet was tiled with intricate patterns, though they were chipped and weathered from age.
"Where the hell am I...?" I whispered to myself.
The only modern touch was the lanterns lining the hallway beyond the door. They weren't normal, though. They had a crescent shape, glowing softly with an eerie light. It made the whole place feel surreal, like I was trapped between a forgotten past and a strange future.
I squinted, testing my vision again, trying to scan the hallway, hoping for something—anything—that might tell me more.
???
That's all I got. A blank screen full of question marks.
"Great," I muttered. "Ominous as hell."
But what choice did I have? There was nowhere else to go, and staying out in the open didn't seem like the best idea either. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my footsteps echoing against the stone floor.
The hallway stretched on endlessly, its faint light barely illuminating the way. I tried calling out, just in case. "Hello? Anyone here?"
Only silence answered, followed by the faint creaks and scuttling sounds of creatures I couldn't see, but I could definitely hear. I had a feeling I wasn't alone in this place.
And whatever else lived here... wasn't human.
I sighed, pressing forward. "Well, Goldwin," I muttered to myself, "let's see what fresh hell you've landed in this time."