A sandy-brown haired man awoke in a panic, feeling all over his body for bleeding wounds that weren't there. Lying in his blankets, breathing hard, he gingerly felt at his neck.
It was whole. The skin smooth and unbroken. His neck wasn't savagely slashed open.
He wasn't bleeding out on the floor of his home!
He was alive! Closing his eyes he tried to recall what occurred, but he realized the dream was fading too fast.
Then it was gone.
He felt an aching loss. As if something was irretrievably gone forever.
Then he heard an odd noise that he couldn't place, nor the source.
It rang out everywhere over and over.
It sounded mumbled, like a voice underwater.
He couldn't make out what was being said in the least.
While he was sure that he had heard the same sound while dreaming, the sandy brown haired man reeled from the feeling of nostalgia he felt.
Then it was gone.
Reeling from confusion, he turned to his other side, seeking to check on his wife. But the bed was empty, and it was totally unrecognizable, as was the room.
Triangular, the bed was huge. His feet lay towards a point, with his head along a flat side of the triangle opposite the point.
His blanket was similarly of unknown origin; made of some sort of dense fibers formed into a layered netting which held his body heat well.
A strange design, yet not as disturbing as the odd place he now found himself in.
This definitely wasn't his room. The style wasn't something he recognized, at all. The walls were painted in a dark red, with a metallic gold trim along the edges.
Odd obelisk-like motifs were arranged about a yard (or a meter perhaps) apart along the walls. Engraved upon the surface of each were strangely shaped designs.
These runic style designs slowly waxed and waned in brightness. Each was a different color, the mixture of which somehow made the room awash in a white light of adequate brightness. The edges of the room glimmered in separate hues of all the varying shades.
It definitely wasn't his room. Such lighting wasn't what he could recall being available or easily done at the flip of a switch.
Something about the thought of flipping a switch for a light jogged his memory.
He remembered his wife, a demure woman, wouldn't decorate like this. He suddenly remembered that she often complained about a certain retailer even though she loved its clothing products.
She and the retailer shared a name! What an odd time to suddenly remember. But going with that train of thought, the store was named…it was called…
Pausing, he became slightly perturbed as the time wore on. Eventually, the sandy-brown haired man thought, 'Damn, its the same as her name, and her name…She was named…'
Immediate and unbidden, a thought burst forth in his mind, speaking in a strange voice.
If one were able to ask him, the sandy-brown haired man would tell you that this sudden thought in his head had a different voice than that of his ordinary internal monologue, asking:
"Why did you just think 'was named'? Why the past tense about your dear wife?"
What the odd voice implied was horrifying, but he had no idea why he would use the word 'was' either. She wasn't here, but he couldn't be sure where she was.
Even worse, if there was a reason, he couldn't remember it.
He laid there for a bit, trying to remember different things, unsuccessfully.
He couldn't remember anything important or truly memorable about anything at all.
Not anything of substance or meaning to him personally. Though he knew enough of basic things, he couldn't remember anything about how he learned such things.
In a sense, he could recall nothing truly worth remembering.
The sandy brown haired man sat up quickly.
An awkward cry erupted from his lips as he looked around at the weird room he was in.
Where the fuck was he and why couldn't he remember anything?
"Why can't I remember my name? Who am I?" He yelled out.
No response.
"Why am I in here? Where are my wife and kids?" He yelled louder.
'Wife and kids?' He thought to himself. Where did that come from? Holding his face in shock and surprise at the revelation, the sandy-haired man felt tears in his eyes.
Silence from his surroundings. No reply, of course.
He had kids. But he couldn't remember anything about them. Some father he was!
But he knew it wasn't his fault. He knew that he had a family, although he couldn't explain how he knew.
He had somehow remembered a wife. Now he could recall more than one biological child, but all of the remaining details were behind a fog; something more than the normal fog of advancing years.
Was it the dream? The strange voice afterwards?
After some time feeling sorry for himself, he studied the room. There was nothing resembling a door, or a window in the room he was in. It was entirely lined with the glowing obelisks and some odd furniture.
The few objects about the room were otherwise indistinguishable, except for their oddness.
A triangular, point-upwards, 'shelf', for lack of a better word. The shelf, consisting of an odd array of poles and empty glass globes, interlocked at strange angles in the interior or even floating near it, with nothing attaching them or holding them aloft.
What appeared to be a large wardrobe, or armoire, made of the same golden trim material. The front was covered with various-sized reflective surfaces which were grey instead of gold. The device had various knobs and smaller markings he couldn't decipher.
The largest reflective surface on the wardrobe like structure lit up as his eyes studied it from afar.
It brightened. Similar to a screen, he could see an individual shown standing on the other side, but nothing of its surroundings, which seemed hazy and indistinct.
He thought it was humanoid in that it stood upright on two legs and was the same general shape. However the creature itself was completely wrapped in layers and layers of a slate-grey fabric that sometimes shifted or moved on its own.
Studying it closely, he realized the creature likely had more than two arms, but the shifting fabric made it hard to tell.
It held a staff made of whirling chrome machinery and blinking lights. It wore a draping shoulder sash of a vibrant multicolored hue.
It's 'face' was helmeted and covered in the fabric with only a clear visor.
Through the visor, a murky fog filled with lights.
The being struck an eerie discord in the core of his being immediately. Even seeing it through this screen, he felt a wave of disgust at it that he couldn't explain.
The disgust was intermingled with a healthy dose of unreasonable fear. His saliva dried in his mouth and his heart seized in his chest for a moment, even though the being was only projected on a screen.
'What does it want?' He thought.
The screen portraying the image flickered and the palpable fear the sandy-brown haired man was feeling dropped noticeably.
He drew a labored breath with his now-freed lungs. The air tasted metallic, leaving a numb feeling in the lips and tip of his tongue.
Seizing a bit of willpower from somewhere deep within, the sandy haired man roared out, "Where am I and what the hell are you? Where is my family?!"
It might have been a heroic showing, had he not been hoarse, with his voice cracking in pitch at the end.
His nearsighted squinting and unimpressive physique did nothing to improve the fierce image he wanted to portray, not to mention that he was still sitting on a bed.
A strange noise erupted from the creature, but the sandy haired man couldn't begin to understand what it was.
The screen flickered again, then seemed to dim almost to blackness, before retuning to its brighter view. This time, the creature looked different.
A shadow person, was the only way he could describe the silhouette he saw now. It was different in that its facial area continued to intermittently blink with sparkles and its limbs were covered with veins of gold and blue light.
A voice, somehow both ethereal and mechanical at once, rang out. "A new challenger has arrived!"
"Our systems indicate that one of your kind has never arrived here before."
The staff in its hands grew louder and then contorted oddly before resuming its natural shape and quieting again to a dim whirring.
After a moment it spoke again. "These readings are highly erratic and yet disturbing at the same time. Tell me about yourself, new one."
Licking his lips nervously, the sandy brown-haired man stared at the creature before saying "What?"
Though faceless, the lights in the facial area became active, blinking and moving quickly before it replied in the same odd voice, though this time laced with underlying menace "What type of creature are you? And tell me about your world that you've come from."
Snickering, the sandy-haired man suddenly said, "My world? What does that even mean? I'm a person. Uh- a human. I don't really remember much of anything of my world. But what the heck are you? Some weird shadow person?"
The figure was silent. As the time wore on, the silence became awkward. The staff grew louder, clicking furiously.
Then it spoke again. "How interesting you are."
Ignoring his questions, the creature then said: "Come person-human, stand before this apparatus and place a part of your body on the reflective screens as they brighten."
Feeling resigned, the sandy-haired man knew he had no choice but to play along if he wanted any answers.
After all, there were no exits.
He stood awkwardly, only then realizing that he was naked. Nonetheless, he put on a brave face and walked to the armoire as if alone.
He pressed his right hand against the glowing golden oval on it.
A hot flash enveloped his hand. He immediately became stuck. The hot flash changed into an odd sensation in his hand and spread to his arm. Not exactly painless, but something akin to the limb 'falling asleep' only magnified many times.
Gritting his teeth, he managed to stutter out a complaint, nonetheless. "This hurts! What are you doing to me?"
"Silence mortal. This will figure out your abilities and physique, the depth of your soul and your mind. Other important factors that you'll need to know about yourself before you begin."
"Begin what?" The sandy-haired man asked, gasping for breath as his hand was released. His hand throbbed painfully for several pulses even after it was released.
"You'll begin your work for the deity of this universe, the illustrious Tel'Amirin, in whose domain you now reside.
Your primary task will be to participate in the Immortal Colosseum, advancing until you are able to enter and conquer the Colosseum Worlds."
Too many words he wasn't very familiar with.
The sandy brown haired man grabbed his head and asked "Work? What? How did I even get here?"
Considering him for a moment, the faceless shadow creature made an odd noise. "It seems the System picked up your signature and intercepted it."
"Whatever universe you come from, it has a broken system in place that can't fully protect its citizens, nor interact with them. There may no longer be any Authority over the System there."
"Nonetheless, whatever portion of the Universal System or its' Authority remains, it is likely wholly focused on survival and keeping your universe operational.
Otherwise you would've been captured and processed according to its usual terms, repurposed or destroyed. Instead, your energy was rescued by our System, here,
The sandy haired man felt like this had to be some kind of continuation of his dream, the things this weird being were saying were almost unintelligible to him.
If the creature didn't seem like it truly believed them, the sandy-haired man might've called the creature out for being a liar. Instead, he asked "What are you? What do I call you?"
The creature paused then responded slowly "I am Obinsal Nix Era, but you may call me the Concierge. I assist the Authority here, Tel'Amirin, in the management of His Domain and of those Others that assist Him."
Quietly, the sandy brown haired man said, "I don't really understand Concierge, but can you at least tell me my name? I- uh, seem to have forgotten it, after all this talk."
The faceless being stared at the human, marveling at his shamelessness. "No." The creature replied. "Come up with your own name."
It seemed frustrated and distracted. After a few moments, a small sparkle of lights across sporadic areas of its faceplate drifted around.
Seeming to relent suddenly, Obinsal made a whooshing noise, something like a wet sigh. "Fine, I'll explain further. Your old life is gone. Not only are you separated by dimensions, but it seems that life has been erased from your memory."
"We didn't do that. It is a result of your circumstances. Total irreversible memory loss is what sometimes happens when any mortal crosses the voids between the realms unprotected, as you did by appearing here. Only those who are shielded properly can cross unscathed."
Obinsal the Concierge fiddled with several pieces of the strange staff. After the silence drew on, he finally volunteered more.
"The process was only made worse by the fact that you had no body because you were already dead in your universe, or irreversibly dying.
So no physical memories remain stored in your brain as it is brand new, created solely for your use here. Otherwise, our Universal System could've helped you unlock whatever other memories remained stored in your soul. It says it did the best it could do, but-"
With a start, the sandy brown-haired man interrupted as he yelled "Did you say dead? I'm actually dead?"