When Victor woke up, the Red Cloak attack felt both a second ago and a lifetime ago. It couldn't be both but he was certain it was both. The blinding lights drank my wits away, he told himself.
When he looked up, he was no longer in the place he used to be. A strange sensation in his bones told him he wasn't on Earth. With that ancient black stone structure still looming behind him, such things are possible. Regardless, it shouldn't have ended this way.
Mounted men in thick olive robes fringed with golden white stared down at them in confusion. Beside them are men in forest green armored vest and protective gears that made them look like soldiers. They stood there against the sun atop a vast green mound, looking just as confused as he was.
Who the hell?
"Seize them!" He heard one of them shout and they quickly grabbed Victor by the arm.
Victor resisted for a moment, when suddenly one of the men in green armored vest pointed a weapon at him. The slick black metal shone pink against the glowing crystal at the tip. By the way the man held it, the weapon is a firearm. Victor yeilded and placed is hands behind his head.
What the fuck happened?
The black stone structure still loomed ominously behind them, but everything else around it was now different. The pulsing glow of the structure was still apparant but the forest that surrounded it was gone. The bodies of General Krakeson, that black woman, and his brother Arthur are strewn across the grass fields but the rest of the dead Red Cloaks and Soldiers are nowhere to be seen. In place of them are these queer looking men with skin as pale as stone.
They are dragging him, to where, he could not tell. Strangely enough, they speak the common tongue, ordering each other some commands. "Take the rest." The old looking man in olive green robes told the soldiers.
I must be dreaming, he told himself as the two men hauled him up and threw him into a cell wagon. The clangor shook his head and when he looked up, this Brother, the General, and the Browothan Woman was thrown into the cell as well. They lay askew like some dead goats to be delivered. The two were surely dead, but he was just speaking with his brother a moment ago—or was that a year ago? He could not be certain, not in this odd place with these odder people.
Victor reached out to his brother with all the strength he had. "Is he alive?" He asked the grey men. It is only now he recognized their long dangling ears that looked like the ears of cows.
"He speak the ancient-tongue!" The soldier told his coleague.
"Interesting," the man in olive robes brushed his long beard then went to check the pulse of Arthur. "Still alive, still breathing..." The man said then placed his fingers on the others, "But I'm afraid I cannot say the same for the rest."
He did not care for the rest. His brother alive is the only assurance he wanted, and when he heard the words his strength fled away. His eyelids begun to pull heavy and he was dragged away into sleep.
------
Victor woke up again, and this time he was inside some room with walls painted gold and white. There was a smell of medicine in the air and the lights from the window did not reveal any dust inside. With his several years of training from the military, Victor instinctively rose from his bed and looked around. Where am I? It appeared strangely like combat support hospitals, but it looked like a common room.
Victor rushed to the steel table and grabbed some sharp objects to defend himself. There were only soft cottons and fine linen there and Victor have to be prepared when those cow-eared men come back for him. He did not have to be told the doors were locked when he looked at them closed. Where the fuck am I?
Victor's heart pounded as he scanned the room, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. But the room was stark and sterile, offering weapons only for healing rather than for killing. He was beginning to panic when the door slid open with a soft hiss.
A figure stepped inside, with flowing white robes that shrouded his body. It's an old man with skin a dull grey and it's long, cow-like ears drooping slightly. His eyes, bright blue, and full of wonder, scrutinized him. Behind him, a group of robed men and soldiers entered, the soldiers' blue armor blending with the soft robes of the others.
The old man squinted at Victor, looking as much as amazed as he was. The old man has the same normal features of a human except his skin is grey and ears hanging down long and low. He held a device that looked like a scanner, and he pointed it at Victor with a huff, muttering something under his breath.
Victor tensed, instinctively taking a step back. "Who are you? Where am I?"
Another robed man, younger and better looking, stepped forward and said, "Good morrow to you, Sir. Are you well and good?"
"I am." Victor said carefully.
Suddenly, another robed man with a beard approached him and shook his hands. "You have a soft hands, my friend. I am glad you are well and good. We found you on an ancient site days ago, and out of kindness we treated your wounds and healed you. Do you need anything, my friend? Do you know where you are?"
Kindness? Victor did not trust a letter on that word. Not here with these grey people and their long dangling ears. But he should answer, that he knew.
"I don't know where am I. The last memory I have was a battle in a forest." He said calmly.
The younger robed man had bluish skin instead of grey that made him look comely. He took down notes and looked up to him. "Forgive our courtesy, Sir. I am Erudym Klaven, the two Erudyms beside me is Aurell and Lemuel. I am pleased to meet you, Sir. Do you need anything at the moment?"
Do you think I'm a fool? Victor thought looking at this farce before him. He could see through it all like a glass wall.
"I need you to tell me where am I and how did I get here." Victor's tone was sharper than he had intented and some of the soldiers behind the men in white robes faltered.
The man with a beard whispered something to Klaven's ears, while the old man simply watched him and did things with the device. A few seconds later, he tapped the scanner with a look of mild annoyance, as if it wasn't giving him the readings he expected. He grumbled something inaudible, then finally looked up at Victor.
"What exactly are you?" the old man snapped, "Erudyms," the old man looked at the two man behind him, "this... 'creature' is not in any codex we have, and his biometrics are unlike any vemans. He is just like the rest of them, hmph. Are we to conclude they are Veilian works?"
That is as far as Victor was able to hear when these cow-eared dolts begun to lower their voices into whispers. After standing there for a few more awkward seconds, the bearded man turned to him with a smile. "I'm sorry, but the security of Oldlands is of paramount concern, my friend. Would you have us believe you're not a Veilian spy?"
Victor blinked, taken aback by the question. "I'm not a spy or anything!" Victor paused and collected himself. "Tell me at least a damn thing about where am I and what the hell are you."
"How dare—" the old man was about to burst but the bearded man stopped him.
"We are vemans, my friend." Said the bearded man. "Forgive our crudeness. We've already introduced ourselves, I believe. I am Erudym Lemuel, he is Klaven, and my good friend here is Aurell. We believe you're not a veman due to your physique, so we ask you, my friend, what are you?"
Victor was extemely annoyed at the way these wringkly grey men speak. "What am I?? What am I suppose to say? A Human??"
The old man raised a bushy eyebrow, looking Victor up and down as if he were a specimen under a microscope. "Human, you say? Hmph. Strange creature, if you ask me. Never heard of any humans afore. How did you end up here?"
Victor's frustration grew. He did not like the voice of the old man. "I don't know! One moment I was in a battle, the next I'm in... wherever this is! What the hell are you?"
The old man ignored Victor's question, turning to the soldiers and robed men behind him. "Run another scan," he barked at one of the robed men, who hurriedly approached with another device.
"A new creature to the codex, and can speak the ancient tongue too." Lemuel begun to stroke his beard. "I must admit, when you told me the news, Erudym Aurell, I thought you were lying."
"I speak what I see plainly, Erudym Lemuel." Aurell looked at Victor again, "and what I see before me is a new age for Vestus. He could change our view of the past or how we'll live the future."
"Quite the observation, Erudym Aurell." Said Klaven. "How did you arrive to that conclusion?"
"Just look at this..." This wrinkly old man looked at him with eyes both amazed and disgusted. "...creature. Skin as bland as dirt would put him most probably a distant ancestors of our kind. A branch of vemans who's ears clearly did not evolve well; Humans."
The soldier standing closest to Victor shifted uncomfortably, his hand hovering near his holstered weapon. The old man noticed and snapped at him, "Oh, put that thing away! If he was going to attack, he would have by now. Use your head for once. Just look at this... human, does he look dangerous??"
Oh I'm dangerous alright!
After the soldier lowered his weapon, the old man begun to write something down in a paper he pulled out of his robes. He kept looking at Victor, seemingly studying him, but never speaking with him. It was annoying
"Do not be afraid, Sir." Said Klaven. "We will help you figure out how did you get here and what exactly are you."
"Look," Victor said, trying to keep his voice steady, "I don't know what you think I am, but I'm not a threat. I just want to find my brother and figure out what's happening."
"Not a threat?" Said Lemuel. "A bold thing to say, my friend. We don't exactly know what you are. Worst case, you're a Veilian spy. We have to study you more, my friend."
"Hold on." Said Klaven, "A brother you said? Is he the one with a mustache, Sir?"
"Yes! That's my brother! How is he?"
"Hmmpp," Aurell gruffed again, his wrinkly cheeks flapped awfully. "Must he him. He survived his wounds, I'll tell you. I labored day and night to be sure, but the two was dead when we got them."
"My brother is alive??" Victor asked. Arthur's beard was freshly trimmed over his lips for the new job after all.
"You have your ears all wrong to be sure, eh?" The old man hissed. "I said he survived, which therefore could only mean...?" Victor only stared intensely to the old man. "You humans are slow."
Victor wanted to punch that man's face so bad to see if he would survive that too, but he forced himself to remain calm. His military training had drilled into him the importance of staying composed under pressure and extreme emotions. He needed answers, not just about his brother, but about where they were and how to get back home.
"Excuse Erudym Aurell, Sir." Said Klaven. "An old man temper, it's all. I assure you, your brother is alive."
Erudym Aurell seems to protest at that comment until Lemuel put a hand over his shoulders. "My good friend, your brother is well and good. The Authoroloh had mercy on him."
"It was me who did all the work, human." Said Aurell.
Victor did not awknowledge the wrinkly old man's words. "Where is he now?" Victor asked Klaven.
"In another room, resting." Said Klaven. "Fear not, Sir. Erudym Aurell is the best surgeon in the north. You're brother is on good hands."
"The wounds were... interesting to say the least." Said the ugly old man again. "I will have to gather more data about how did you got your wounds."
Can thus shitty old man close his mouth?! He thought. He needed to see him, to make sure he was okay, not to be treated like some specimen. But more than that, he needed to understand what the hell was going on.
"Take me to him," Victor demanded. "I need to see my brother."
The old man narrowed his eyes, clearly unaccustomed to being ordered around. "You're in no position to make demands, human."
"In this situtation, Erudym Aurell, we shall entertain our good friend." Said Lemuel, straightening his robes. "Friends do indulge each others wishes, no? Come, my friend, we'll show you your brother."
With a sharp gesture, the young man Klaven signaled to the soldiers, who closed in on Victor, their pink weapons still at the ready but lowered slightly. They weren't taking any chances with this strange newcomer, despite the old man's apparent confidence that Victor wasn't a threat.
When Victor followed them out of the room, he saw two soldiers standing by the door joining the company at the rear. The hallway they entered was lined with strange symbols etched into the walls and queer tapestries that shows their anatomy. The architecture was unique. Golden columns and white walls surrounded the large hallway where the three white robes led him to Arthur.
They passed several rooms, some with doors sealed shut, others open to reveal more of the same sterile environment. Occasionally, Victor caught glimpses of other figures—more of the cow-eared people, some dressed in robes, others in armor, and some in simple tunics. All of them stopped to stare as he walked by, whispering to each other in a language he didn't understand.
Finally, they reached a door at the end of the hallway. Two soldiers guarding the entrance moved out of the way when they approached. The old man pressed a button on the wall, and the door slid open with a soft hiss. Inside, the room was much like the one Victor had woken up in, only larger with more equipments—machines that beeped softly, tubes running from them to a bed in the center of the room.
Inside, the room was quiet, filled with the soft hum of machinery. The air was thick with a sterile scent, and the walls were painted a pristine pale gold. In the center of the room, surrounded by strange equipment, lay Arthur.
Victor rushed to his brother's side, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the bandage around Arthur's abdomen. It had been treated, with many tubes of liquids coming and going, but the sight of it was enough to make Victor's gut twist in guilt. Had he only killed the Red Cloak quickly, Arthur would not have been stabbed.
But there was more in the room than just Arthur. Victor's eyes were drawn to two large tanks at the far end, each filled with a greenish liquid. Floating inside were two familiar faces: General Krakeson and Dr. Bethany. Their bodies are suspended in the strange fluid, wires and tubes connecting them to the machines around them.
Victor's stomach turned at the sight. They were dead even before the ancient stone ignited, their blood spilling down the smooth sharp edges, but to see them this way, treated as Lab-Rats like those damned inmates made even the black pit of his stomach twist. He ony glanced at the old man to know what they were doing to them.
"We are studying them, Sir." Klaven said, stroking his beard. "Oldlands have only few months to study you until those seated at the Highrock will want to have a look at you. They were already dead when we found them. The best way to honor them, Sir, is to make them part of the grand sea of knowledge."
Victor didn't gave a damned shit about any of that. In the army, you dont castrate and rape the dead bodies of the fallen soldiers—enemies or allies. This is abomination. But Victor remained calm, seeing that there's one of him and a whole world of them.
As Victor watched his brother, the young grey man watched him with those curious, calculating eyes. "Your brother is fine, Sir." he said, as if reading Victor's thoughts. "You best get your mind right and recover your wits yourself. A man needs a sharp mind during such distress."
Victor barely heard him. He was too busy staring at Arthur, at the peaceful rise and fall of his brother's chest. This was his fault. He'd known something was off about the mission—why else would a simple archaeological site require a military escort? But he'd brought Arthur along anyway, convincing himself that it would be fine, that whatever dangers lay ahead, he's in control.
But this? He hadn't anticipated this. S.T.O.R.M. had done shady things and he'd been involed in a few, but never as insane as this.
"...your brother is alive because we intervened, Sir." Klaven ended his ass monologue, his voice a pitch of pride.
"So tell me, human," Wrinkly Aurell said. "how did you come to be at the site of the Ancient Stones? And why?"
"The black stone?"
"Yes, the black-stone. What else that looked ancient at the site you came from?? Hmph. So... how?"
"I do not know." In truth, he didn't exactly know.
Lemuel walked forward. "Reports by soldiers patroling the borders say that the Ancient Stone begun to burn bright when in half a heartbeat, you—our dear friends—popped out and the light vanished."
"So how did that came to be, human?" Said the old man again.
Victor took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. He couldn't tell this old grey man everything, not yet. But he needed to give him something—enough to keep them both alive until he figured out what the hell was going on.
"We were investigating the structure," Victor said slowly. "It's... ancient, something our people have been studying for years. I was sent to escort my brother, Arthur. He's an archaeologist. He was meant to study the stone, the inscriptions, the history behind it, to figure out what the structure is, but we had no idea... we didn't know it was a gateway."
He did know. The classified file had more in it that General Krakeson omitted when he handed it to Arthur. They call it Project Door because the Government believes it to be a gateway somewhere in the world. Only now he knew it was a gateway into this world. That is the extent of his knowledge, and this cranky old man does not need to know any of that.
The old man's nodded slowly, and Lemuel hummed thoughtfully. "A gateway, yes, of course my friend. The Ancient Gate has been a point of debate amongst Archerudyms for thousands of years since it was found. Ancient texts older than Oldlands itself would have us believe it is a bridge between worlds. Of course that was only a myth for the past thousands of years, but seeing you, my friend, now stand before us and tell these things, well... I think we should revisit those debates, no?"
"You should." Victor stood up and faced the three of them. "It's pass time for this chit-chat. Why don't you start telling me what do you plan to do with us. Clearly you've busied yourself with our dead, I wonder what do you plan with the living."
"To study you, of course!" The old man graced his grey wrinkly face with a smile. "An Alien fallen into this world who speaks the ancient tongue is an unprecedented opportunity for knowledge. Your physiology, your history, your very existence—it's a fresh tempting fruit for us."
"Sir, we need to know more before we let you go. You are a wonder of our age, Sir. You've already answered some questions, but there are countless more. We need to understand how you crossed over, what other worlds are out there, and if possible, how can we reach them."
"A marvel!" said Lemuel. "We're going to learn much from you, my friend!"
Victor clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger in check. "You're going to treat us like lab-rats?"
The bearded man's smile didn't waver. "Lab rats? No, no, nothing so crude, my friend. Think of it as a mutual exchange of information. You want to return to your world, and we want to learn how did you got here. Help us, my friend, and we might find a way to send you back."
Victor stared at the bearded man, trying to read the truth in his words. There was a glint of genuine curiosity in his eyes, but also a cold detachment. This man saw them as subjects, not people.
"And if I refuse?" Victor asked, his voice low.
Lemuel stroked his beard and sighed. "I thought we're friends? Friends treat each other with respect and kindness, no? I hope we are. I like making friends more than enemies."
Victor did not like the taste of those words and the smell it left behind in the air. He needed to keep his brother safe and find a way out of this mess, but he also knew that outright defiance wouldn't get him anywhere. He is in their world after all. For now, he had to play along, gather information, and look for an opening.
"Fine." Victor said. "We're friends." He gave a sarcastic smile. "Friends do trust each other I believe. I am Victor." He reached to shake their hands. "Always a pleasure to meet new friends."
The old man chuckled as they shook, a dry, rasping sound; And Lemuel smiled approvingly while he shook his.
"Trust, is a luxury we can't afford right now, Sir." Said Klaven as their were shaking hands, "But for a friend, we have much to spare."
Victor nodded and graced them a smile.
"Erudyms, I suggest we return the next morrow for Victor to gather his thoughts."
The old man Aurell was about to protest when Lemuel put a hand over his shoulders. "Our good friend needs to rest and sharpen his wits. We don't want him to answer mindlessly when we gather data, no?"
Erudym Aurell let out a disgusting "Hmph!" before the three cows in white robes turned and left. The soldiers followed behind them, giving him one last look before exiting the room.The door hissed shut behind them, leaving Victor alone with his thoughts—and his brother.
Victor sat down beside Arthur, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He had no idea where they were or how they were going to get home. But one thing was clear: they couldn't stay here forever, and Victor would do whatever it took to protect his brother and get them both out of this nightmare.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. They were in an alien world, surrounded by beings who saw them as nothing more than curiosities to be studied. But Victor was a soldier, trained to adapt and survive in any situation. He just needed time—time to learn, time to prepare, and time to strike.
For now, he would play their game. But when the moment came, he would be ready. He would get his brother back home, no matter what the cost.
And if anyone tried to stop him, they would learn just how dangerous humans could be.