A piercing shriek tore Adrian from the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness. He cracked open an eye, greeted by blinding white light and the cacophony of unfamiliar chirps and screeches. Panic clawed at his throat as he tried to recall how he'd gotten here. The last thing he remembered was the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal, and then...nothingness.
He attempted to sit up, but a jolt of searing pain shot through his body, pinning him down. Panic subsided into a dull ache as he surveyed his surroundings. Lush greenery surrounded him, sunlight filtering through the leaves of towering trees that scraped the sky. The air vibrated with an alien energy, a stark contrast to the sterile hum of electricity he was accustomed to.
"Calm down, young master," a soothing voice said beside him. A weathered face, etched with kindness, swam into view. The man's worn hands emanated a faint warmth as he gently adjusted a poultice on Adrian's arm. "You took quite a tumble."
Adrian's mind reeled. Young master? Poultice? This wasn't a hospital room. A horrifying possibility crept in. Could he be...?"
The man chuckled, his voice lined with years of experience. "Don't fret, you're safe now. You're in the Elvenwood, on the outskirts of the Drakestone Duchy."
Elvenwood? Drakestone Duchy? These terms were straight out of a fantasy novel. A thrilling, terrifying realization dawned on Adrian. He wasn't in his world anymore. He was dead. And somehow, he had been reborn.