Luca blinked, his vision still swimming with the aftereffects of the strange transition. His muscles ached, his chest tight as if the weight of a hundred lifetimes bore down on him. He pressed his hands into the soft, dewy grass beneath him, pushing himself upright, only to collapse back to his knees.
"Where am I?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice shaky.
A soft breeze rustled the grass, carrying with it the scent of something… familiar. He glanced up and gasped. The stars, which had seemed so bright before, were now swirling overhead like constellations rearranging themselves in patterns he couldn't understand. They glimmered too vividly, pulsing like they were alive. The sky—if it could even be called a sky—was a deep, shimmering indigo, shifting with hues of violet and gold as if the universe itself was breathing.
Luca staggered to his feet, his legs wobbling beneath him. The weight of *her* absence pressed heavily on his chest. "Elara…"
He spun around, searching for her, but all he saw was an empty expanse of rolling hills and jagged, dark cliffs in the distance. There was no ripple, no sign of the alley, the old man, or the city. Only the echo of the voice that had greeted him.
*"Welcome back, Looper."*
The word stuck in his mind, a fragment of something deeper he couldn't quite grasp. He felt it in his bones—he *knew* it somehow—but every time he tried to remember, the memories slipped away like water through his fingers.
Luca took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had to focus. Panicking wouldn't help. He needed answers. He needed to understand where he was, why *this* had happened.
His hand went to his pocket, finding the crumpled note still there. *"You're not who you think you are. Meet me where time bends."* His fingers brushed against it, cold and unfamiliar. Had it all been a trap? Who was the old man, and what had he meant by 'Looper'?
A soft sound interrupted his thoughts. A shuffle. Someone—or something—was nearby.
Luca tensed, instinctively reaching for a weapon he didn't have. His eyes darted to the source of the sound: a shadow moving in the distance, just beyond the nearest hill. For a moment, he thought it might be Elara, but the figure was too tall, too bulky.
His heart raced, but he didn't dare call out.
The figure came closer, moving with a deliberate, steady gait. Luca crouched behind a nearby rock, his pulse pounding in his ears. The figure crested the hill, and as the starlight caught its face, Luca's breath hitched.
It wasn't human.
The creature was tall, with elongated limbs and a face obscured by a smooth, featureless mask. Its body was draped in tattered cloth, its movements unnervingly fluid as it scanned the area. Luca's mind reeled. He had never seen anything like it, but deep inside, something stirred—a fragment of memory he couldn't quite place.
The creature paused, its head tilting as if listening for something.
Luca held his breath, his body frozen in place. His instincts screamed at him to run, but something deeper told him that would be a mistake. He stayed perfectly still, praying that it wouldn't notice him.
After what felt like an eternity, the creature turned and walked away, its form dissolving into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared.
Luca exhaled shakily, his heart still hammering in his chest. He waited a few moments, making sure the coast was clear before stepping out from behind the rock.
He had no idea what that thing was, but he knew one thing for sure: this world was dangerous. He had to be careful, or he wouldn't survive long enough to get the answers he needed.
As he started walking again, a new thought crept into his mind—if this wasn't his world, whose was it?
He scanned the horizon, taking in the alien landscape once more. There was a path now, faint but discernible, leading toward the distant cliffs. It was the only lead he had. With a deep breath, Luca started down the path, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The fragments of memories continued to swirl in his mind, just out of reach. There were glimpses of faces—people he had never met but somehow knew. Voices whispered his name, calling to him, but none of them were Elara.
And then, without warning, a sharp pain shot through his head. Luca cried out, clutching his temples as the world tilted. Images flashed before his eyes: battles fought on distant worlds, a figure standing alone against a sea of enemies, a hand reaching for him as he fell into darkness—always falling, always dying.
He dropped to his knees, gasping for air as the pain slowly subsided. When he opened his eyes, the stars overhead had shifted again, now swirling into a spiral that pointed directly at the cliffs.
Luca shivered. Something was calling to him from those cliffs, something he wasn't sure he wanted to face. But he didn't have a choice. If he was ever going to understand what had happened to him, why he had been thrown into this place, he had to keep moving.
He staggered to his feet, wiping the sweat from his brow. His heart pounded, but this time it wasn't just fear driving him. It was a strange sense of purpose, a pull that came from somewhere deep within him.
With one last glance at the swirling stars, Luca set off toward the cliffs, the weight of a thousand lives heavy on his shoulders.
And somewhere, in the depths of his fractured mind, a voice whispered: *"This is only the beginning."*