Countless flashes of light burst through my mind as if disorientated. My body felt as if it was being torn between two places at once, dividing it as a whole. What came after, was the eerie stillness that had once been my shelter - I sure hope I didn't just get trampled or eaten by a random dog.
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"Hello...?"
"Mmmm..."
"Sir, hello?"
"MMMMmmm..."
"HELLO?"
"Waaah, stupid alarm clock!" The vagabond ever so swiftly jumped straight out of his woken stupour to, yet again, slam his alarm clock. But, with the energy he had now, it was more of a caress.
"Sir... what are you doing? Can you stop that?"
"Who... who are you?"
What lay before our protagonist was something simply unimaginable. His first instinct was that it was the afterlife for a few moments, until he stared at his hands. Everything looked the same and felt the same. Then, the idea of a dream came about - to be instantly scrapped and tossed into his mental trash can.
[No, it can't be the afterlife... and can't be a dream either. I've never had a dream since...] A sharp wince flickered through his face. [Since my mother died. Which means this must be some kind of materialisation of brain damage or something.]
With the sporadic reasoning that makes sense when you first think about it, he set himself on answering whoever it was bugging him.
"Sir, can you get off the road?" A figure, dressed in bright blue and black, wandered into view.
[What!? What is this?] Xera grabbed at the fabric on the figure's shirt, riven in disbelief at the vibrance of it. [C-Co-Colour? I thought that was for the officials, and the officials never speak to anyone lowly...]
"Get off me!" The figure, now perfectly perceivable, smacks off the hand clutching her shirt. "I won't ask you again."
"Wh-what do you want from me?" Instincts were rearing up into full motion, every muscle tensed in response for the answer. This was life or death, cross an official and you will never see the light of day again.
"Just, get out the road. You're going to kill someone, nevermind you!" The woman clutches at Xera's rags, for Xera to flinch in response but allow her, only for her to rip them. Blushing in embarrassment, she attempts to convince him again. "Come on, lets get you to someplace safe. Sounds good?"
[Sounds good? Is this a trap? She sounds so innocent, though, but she definitely has the hands of a killer with how she managed to do that.] Xera inwardly smiles, eventually letting curiosity take a hold of him once more.
"Fine, but tell me your name, alright?"
"Isabelle, and what's yours?"
"Terra, lets go with that."
...
Upon entering her aptly named "apartment," she decided to let "Terra" settle down for a while. Her apartment had a wooden flooring - built by what could be inferred to be master craftsmen - soft, smooth walls of blue that was only more improved by the innumerable paintings of her and countless other people.
[It makes a nice change from them damned grey walls, if I could still dream I'd be having nightmares over them. Still, this does nothing more than confirm the belief that shes someone with power. I need to tread cautiously.]
"So..." She begins her attempt at making conversation the second she feels the time is right. "How'd you end up on the road anyway?"
"I fell asleep."
[Good job, me.]
"You... what?"
"I fell asleep."
[I don't think shes buying it.]
"Alright... since you don't want to tell me then I'm going to have to assume you're on the run, right?" Terra frantically nods at the olive branch. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, I am off duty but this city's security is still my main priority."
"What are you doing here?"
Terra takes a deep breath, taking in everything that has happened so far. The countless close calls, the battle for survival and the thug who he narrowly escaped from. On reflection, he wonders how much emotion he has felt in comparison to the past, finding relief in how his humanity hasn't been discarded in his pursuit for a life.
"I think I'm just an adrenaline junkie."