The recent events have left Theodore disheartened and in shock. A sticky notebook with the ability to transmigrate a personne to another reality, complicated symbols that left the viewer with an intense headache,' And there's no system as well!' Theo couldn't help but think about how helpless he was in this situation. The fear of the unknown left him frozen in his place for a few minutes.
The damp, cool air clung to Theo's skin as he lay sprawled on the ground, his senses still struggling to make sense of his new surroundings. The alley was narrow, wedged between two wooden buildings whose walls leaned over him like grim sentinels. The ground was wet, almost slimy, and a faint, unpleasant smell lingered—a mix of mildew, rotting wood, and something metallic. He could feel the moisture soaking through his clothes, making them cling to his skin, and the chill seeped into his bones.
Theo blinked, trying to focus his vision, but everything around him seemed blurred. His heart was still pounding from the shock of being transported here, and his breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he struggled to comprehend what had happened. He raised his hand, expecting to see the bloody symbol still carved into his palm, but it had changed. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Instead, it looked like a faded tattoo, its lines faint and blurred as if it were slowly disappearing. He rubbed his palm, half-expecting to feel pain, but there was only a dull ache.
He struggled to his feet, still dazed, his head buzzing with a persistent noise that was louder than ever. It felt as though a thousand tiny insects were crawling inside his skull. The alley stretched out before him, and he could barely make out its end, where the shadows seemed to deepen into a pitch-black void. Above him, the sky was painted with an eerie, purple glow, the source of which was a moon unlike any he had seen on Earth. It was a deep, ominous shade of purple, partially obscured by a smaller, dark moon that floated over it like a pupil in an abyssal eye, staring down at the world below. The sight was unnerving, as if the sky itself was watching him, waiting.
Theo's ears were ringing, the buzzing almost painful, but slowly it began to fade, replaced by the distant sound of voices. He staggered toward the source of the noise, drawn by the faint orange light breaking through the purple gloom. As he neared the end of the alley, the noise grew louder—a chorus of laughter, clinking glasses, and indistinct chatter.
The light spilled from a building across the street, a two-story structure with wooden walls that had darkened with age. Theo hesitated, feeling a surge of apprehension, but his curiosity and desperation to find some semblance of normalcy pushed him forward. He crossed the damp, cobbled street, each step squelching in the wet ground, and approached the building. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear the sounds of rowdy voices, the kind that belonged in a tavern or a bar.
With a deep breath, Theo pushed the door open, and a wave of thick, intoxicating air hit him. The stench of alcohol and sweat was suffocating, and it took him a moment to adjust to the dim, hazy interior. Lanterns with flickering flames hung from the walls, casting a warm, orange glow that fought against the purple light creeping in from outside. The room was crowded, filled with rough wooden tables and benches, where people of all sorts were gathered, drinking and shouting over each other. The language was strange, a series of guttural sounds and fluid words that Theo couldn't make sense of at first.
But as he stood there, blinking and trying to take it all in, the buzzing in his ears died down, and the sounds around him slowly began to make sense. The language was still foreign, but he could understand it now, as if a switch had been flipped in his mind. He caught snippets of conversation, drunken laughter, and curses—loud, aggressive voices slurring words in what he understood to be a rough Althrin, the language of the Aldraeth Kingdom. It was a language that used characters resembling intricate Chinese symbols, yet it had a distinctly European sound, harsh and rhythmic.
Theo's eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. The people here didn't look entirely normal. Many had hair in vibrant, unnatural colors—blonde, red, green, and even purple—but none had the dark brown or black hair he was used to seeing. They were loud, some muscular, and broad-shouldered, each one looking like they could snap him in two without breaking a sweat. Compared to them, Theo felt out of place, his slim build and dark hair making him stick out like a sore thumb.
As he scanned the room, he noticed a massive figure standing near the bar, towering over everyone else. The man had a bald head, and his muscles bulged beneath his shirt, giving him a hulking, almost monstrous appearance. His skin was tanned, and there was a wicked, deep laugh rumbling from his throat as he noticed Theo standing awkwardly by the entrance.
"Well, well, what we got here? heh heh" the giant bellowed, his voice booming over the noise in the bar. The room fell silent for a moment, heads turning to see who had caught the giant's attention. The man's eyes gleamed with a sinister amusement as he sized up Theo. "A pretty tramp, by the looks of it! What's a pretty face like ya doing in a place like this?" he sounded in rough Althrin.
Theo's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to back away, to escape the sudden attention, but his legs felt like they were made of lead. He forced a nervous smile, trying to find his voice. "I-I'm just… looking around," he stammered in unclear Althrin, hoping he didn't sound as scared as he felt.
The giant laughed again, a deep, unsettling sound that echoed through the bar. "Looking around?heh. Ya sure don't look like ya're from around here." He took a step closer, and Theo could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. "I bet ya'd fetch a nice price at the slave market, or maybe ya could do some work in the coal mines out in the outskirts. What do ya think, boys?"
Laughter erupted from the crowd, a mocking, jeering sound that made Theo's skin crawl. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, and his mind raced as he tried to think of a way out. "No, really, I'm just passing through—" he began, but the giant cut him off, grabbing his arm with a hand that felt like an iron vice.
"Passing through?Heh heh.Not anymore, ya're not." The man's grip tightened, and Theo winced, trying to pull free, but it was no use. The giant's strength was overwhelming. "Handsome guys like ya don't get to wander around for free. Ya've got to pay yar way somehow."
The crowd cheered, and Theo felt a surge of panic. He tried to think, to find a way out, but his mind was a blur. In a desperate move, he twisted in the man's grip and managed to slip out, darting toward the door. For a brief moment, he thought he might make it, but a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head as something heavy struck him, and he stumbled, his vision blurring.
He fell to the floor, his ears ringing, and the last thing he saw before darkness consumed him was the room tilting, the bar upside down as if the world itself had turned on its head.
...
When Theo woke, he was lying on a cold, damp floor, the air thick with the stench of sweat and mold. His body ached, bruises blooming across his skin, and his head throbbed with pain. He tried to move, but every part of him protested, his muscles stiff and sore. As he struggled to sit up, he realized he was in a dark, cramped space, with barely enough light to see.
Around him, there were others—thin, pale figures huddled together, their eyes dull and lifeless. Some were children, barely older than ten, while others were adults, their bodies reduced to skin and bone. They wore ragged pieces of cloth, barely enough to cover themselves, and their hair was matted, hanging limply around their gaunt faces. Some looked human, but others had pointed ears, pale green skin, or other features that marked them as something else—half-elves, cross-breeds, beings that belonged to the realm of myths.
The atmosphere was suffocating, a heavy, oppressive gloom that hung over the room like a shroud. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and unwashed bodies, and the dim light flickered weakly, casting long, eerie shadows on the stone walls. Theo's school uniform was torn and dirty, the fabric stained and reeking. He could barely recognize himself, and the sight made his stomach churn.
He looked down at his palm, expecting to see the faint, fading symbol, but it was gone, as if it had never been there. For a moment, he felt a strange sense of loss, as if something had been taken from him.
Theo let out a bitter laugh, his voice echoing hollowly in the dark. 'So, this is where I end up… Beaten, dragged off to some dungeon, and left to rot with a bunch of… slaves.'He couldn't help but think desperately. He pressed a hand to his aching head, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. 'I guess I really am unlucky, huh...' he thought self-deprecating.
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain, the cold, and the quiet whimpers of the others around him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped, lost in a world he didn't understand, with no way out.