Tim's first thought as he blinked awake was that he wasn't anywhere near his hometown or anywhere on Earth for that matter. Instead of the damp, narrow alleyway he'd been used to waking up to find, he found himself lying in a meadow that seemed to shimmer with an unearthly glow. As he sat up, groggy and disoriented, he noticed a figure standing a few yards away, cloaked in strange light that seemed to ripple with every movement.
"Alright," Tim muttered to himself, trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams, "where am I now?"
The figure didn't speak, but raised a hand, beckoning for him to follow. "First rule of the streets, never follow a stranger, especially not a weird looking one. What are you anyways? Am I high? Oh God! Am I dead? I'm dead, aren't I? Wait if I'm dead then you must be an Angel, let me guess, you are the angel of famine cus boy do you look skinny" Tim quipped but the figure said nothing just kept pointing at the direction in which they needed to go.
With a mix of caution and curiosity, Tim got to his feet, brushing dirt off his clothes. "Yep, I am definitely dead" Tim muttered before following the figure. Something about this person—if it was a person—felt... off. The figure moved gracefully, almost gliding, leading him toward a tall stone building in the distance. No words were exchanged, but Tim felt a pull he couldn't explain, a magnetic urge to follow.
As they neared the building, the figure seemed to fade, the light surrounding it dissipating like morning mist. Tim blinked, and just like that, it was gone, leaving him alone in front of a set of towering doors.
"Well, that's not creepy at all," Tim murmured, glancing around. "No way, I'm not opening any more doors." Tim turned to leave but was swept back to face the door.
"I should have gone to jail" He pushed open the doors and stepped into a vast hall, lined with figures sitting in ornate chairs arranged in a semi-circle. They were deep in discussion, their voices tense, debating something he couldn't quite catch.
"...but we can't ignore the prophecy," one of them was saying. "If we keep him here, the risk—"
"Or the alternative," another voice cut in, "is leaving him to fend for himself. He's untrained, vulnerable."
"Vulnerable?" Tim scoffed under his breath, crossing his arms. He didn't care to know if the meeting was for him but he needed their attention and if this was really heaven, the meeting was for the newly dead and guess what, he was newly dead. "I can hear you guys, you know."
The room fell silent, and every face turned toward him. The council members exchanged stunned looks, as if they couldn't believe he was standing there. One of them, an elderly woman with piercing blue eyes, muttered to herself, "How… how did he get here? The only way in from the human world is through the gate, and he would need—"
"Look, I don't know what kind of secret meeting this is," Tim interrupted, his irritation cutting through his confusion, "but I didn't ask to crash it. Some… figure or whatever led me here. I was just trying to—"
The council members' eyes widened, and the room filled with murmurs again.
"A figure?" one council member said, exchanging a look with the others.
"Yeah, you know, tall, skinny, looks like he's been starving for the past millennium, wears turned up robes, face almost skeleton like—"
"There are no such beings within the realm. No one would have—" One of the council members said
The murmurs grew, and Tim's patience wore thin. Before he could speak up, the elderly woman from earlier raised her hand, silencing the others. "Enough. He's here now, and we must decide what to do with him."
"What to do with him? Do I look like a....thing to you?"
She studied Tim with a calculating gaze, her eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and caution. "If he has crossed the threshold," she continued ignoring Tim remark, "then perhaps it's time he was enrolled. I'll take responsibility."
With that, she beckoned for Tim to follow her, offering no explanation and ignoring his barrage of questions as they walked down the twisting hallways.
"Look here Angel of ignorance, can you at least tell me where I am? Am I dead? Am I in heaven?" Tim asked as she led him up a flight of stairs. "Or how you people know my name? Well I guess an Angel knows"
"Angel of ignorance?" The woman asked.
"You've been ignoring me."
"You are not dead and I'm not an Angel. You are in a different realm, a supernatural realm" She said as they arrived at a wooden door
"I know you have many questions, Tim, but for now, just settle in. Someone will be by shortly to help you adjust."
"Wait what? You can't just dump all that on someone and then walk away" Tim yelled as the lady began away from him.
The door opened into a small but comfortable room, and Tim's first sight was his new roommate—Brandon, a tall, serious-looking guy with an unreadable expression. Brandon nodded politely, but Tim, feeling more cornered than ever, crossed his arms, sizing him up.
"I take it you're the new guy," Brandon said, offering his hand. "I'm Brandon."
"Yeah, and I take it you don't get out much," Tim replied, ignoring the handshake and leaning against the doorframe.
Brandon raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by Tim's attitude. "Well, we're roommates now, so… might as well try to get along."
"Great," Tim said dryly, looking around the room with obvious disinterest. "Not a fan of the whole roommate thing, but it's not like I had a choice, did I?"
Unfazed, Brandon laughed softly. "Fine by me. But, I'm supposed to show you around, so maybe try to keep an open mind."
The tour began, with Tim taking every opportunity to mutter sarcastic comments about the place. They passed hallways lined with ancient tapestries, classrooms echoing with strange sounds, and corridors leading to places Tim could hardly wrap his head around. The whole place seemed alive, crackling with energy that only made Tim feel more out of place.
At last, they reached the training center—a vast, open courtyard where students were sparring, using powers Tim hadn't thought possible. His usual smirk faded as he watched one student create a wall of flames, while another manipulated metal shards in mid-air, shaping them into a protective shield.
"Did he just....? Did she just....?" Tim exclaimed the abilities on display were beyond anything Tim had ever seen, leaving him both awed and unsettled.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Brandon said
"Nah, I've seen better" Tim said trying to suppress his excitement and keep his cool.
"Right, I'm sure you have" Brandon muttered laughing a bit.
Watching closely at the displays, Tim noticed one fighter in particular, moving with remarkable speed and precision, delivering powerful strikes that left his opponent reeling. The crowd cheered, watching as the fighter—Brayden, Tim overheard someone say—ended the match with a flourish, flames flickering at his fingertips.
"Impressive, right?" Brandon asked, his eyes glowing with pride as he watched Brayden. "That's my brother."
Tim snorted, the sassy side of him snapping back into place. "Brother, you say. I guess one of you had to be interesting."
Brandon shot him a sidelong look, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Watch it, new guy. I've got a pretty interesting right hook."
Tim just laughed, feeling more at ease for the first time since he'd arrived. Maybe he wasn't ready to fully trust anyone here,
but the challenge of keeping these people on their toes? That he could get used to.