Sober stirred to the sound of someone calling his name—or rather, the name he had reluctantly accepted. "Jeffrey! Wake up, mate. You've been out like a log."
Blinking groggily, he opened his eyes to see Adams standing over him, holding a steaming cup of something that smelled faintly of roasted beans. "Morning coffee," Adams said, noticing Sober's questioning look. "You'll love it."
Sober sat up, taking in his surroundings. The room was small, cluttered but cozy, with mismatched furniture and walls adorned with posters of strange symbols and faces. What caught his attention, however, were the objects scattered around: utensils, devices, and tools he couldn't begin to understand.
Adams handed him a small stick with bristles on one end and a tube of something that smelled minty. "Here, brush your teeth."
Sober stared at the items, turning them over in his hands. "What kind of magic is this?" he muttered.
Adams burst out laughing. "Magic? It's a toothbrush, mate. You've really never seen one before?"
Sober hesitated, then shook his head. "No. We didn't have these where I…" He trailed off, realizing he couldn't reveal too much.
Adams shrugged. "Well, you're in for a treat. Just put some toothpaste on the bristles and scrub your teeth. Like this." He mimed the motion, and Sober followed suit, marveling at the tingling sensation in his mouth.
After freshening up, Adams gestured to a bundle of clothes on a chair. "Here, these should fit you. Just a plain T-shirt and pants, but better than what you're wearing."
Sober looked down at his tattered, dirt-streaked tunic and trousers. They were a far cry from the clean, simple garments Adams offered. He changed quickly, feeling a strange sense of relief in the clean fabric.
"Alright, let's grab some breakfast and head out," Adams said, flipping on a rectangular device mounted on the wall.
Sober froze as the screen lit up, displaying moving images and sounds. People were talking, laughing, and performing impossible feats—leaping from buildings, casting fire from their hands, and soaring through the skies. "What… what kind of sorcery is this?"
Adams chuckled. "That's just the TV. Entertainment. None of it's real, mate. Well, most of it isn't. You'll get used to it."
Sober sat down, transfixed. How could these people perform such feats without magic? Were they heroes, like him? Or was this some kind of elaborate illusion?
Adams pulled him away from the screen after a while. "Come on, Jeffrey. You'll have plenty of time to binge-watch later. Let's go see the city."
They stepped out into the bustling streets of Blackridge. The morning air was crisp, filled with the scent of food and fuel. Sober's eyes darted everywhere, taking in the towering buildings, the strange metal carriages that zipped by with a roar, and the people—so many people, all dressed in styles he'd never seen before.
Adams led him to a mall, a vast structure that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Inside, the air was cool and filled with music. Shops lined every corridor, their windows displaying an array of goods: clothes, devices, food, and trinkets that sparkled under bright lights.
Sober's jaw dropped as he saw a machine dispensing drinks at the press of a button. "How does it work?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.
Adams grinned. "No magic here, mate. Just technology. It's like… well, think of it as tools doing the work for you. Here, try this." He handed Sober a can of soda, watching as the former hero cautiously opened it and took a sip.
The fizz startled him, and he pulled back, wide-eyed. "It… it's alive!"
Adams doubled over with laughter. "It's just carbonation! Bubbles, mate. You're a riot."
As they wandered through the mall, Sober's amazement only grew. He marveled at the escalators, the glowing signs, and the sheer variety of goods. At one point, he stopped in front of a clothing store, staring at a mannequin dressed in a sleek suit."That'd look good on you," Adams teased. "Though I'm not sure you could pull off the tie."
Sober shook his head, his expression serious. "The craftsmanship is remarkable. The people of this world… they're truly skilled."
Adams clapped him on the shoulder. "Wait until you see a smartphone. That'll really blow your mind."
They left the mall and strolled down a busy street. Street performers played music, vendors called out their wares, and the air buzzed with life. Sober stopped to watch a man juggling flaming torches, his movements precise and fluid.
"He's talented," Sober said, nodding in approval.
"Yeah, but no magic," Adams replied. "Just skill and practice. That's how things work here. No shortcuts, no spells. Just hard work."
Sober frowned, his mind racing. A world without magic, yet filled with wonders he could hardly comprehend. How did they achieve so much without the power he had relied on his entire life?
As the day wore on, Sober found himself growing more comfortable in this strange new world. The sights, sounds, and smells were overwhelming, but they were also fascinating. For the first time since his arrival, he felt a spark of curiosity—a desire to understand this place and its people.
By the time they returned to Adams' small apartment, Sober was exhausted but exhilarated. He sat down heavily on the worn couch, his mind spinning with everything he had seen.
Adams grinned. "Stick with me, Jeffrey. I'll show you all the wonders this world has to offer."
Later that evening, Adams reached for a small device and handed it to Sober. "Here, this is a Quintendo Mini. It's for playing games."
Sober turned the device over in his hands, inspecting the buttons and screen. "Games? Like training exercises?"
Adams laughed. "Not exactly. Here, let me show you." He powered on the console, and the screen lit up with vibrant colors. The game featured a small character jumping over obstacles and collecting coins.
Adams guided Sober through the controls, and after a few clumsy attempts, Sober began to get the hang of it. His concentration was intense, his brow furrowed as he maneuvered the character through increasingly challenging levels.
"This is incredible!" Sober exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine excitement.
Adams smirked. "Told you. It's addictive."
As Adams moved to the kitchen to prepare dinner, he glanced over his shoulder at Sober. "You keep playing. I'll have food ready soon."
Sober nodded, completely absorbed in the game. When Adams called him to eat, Sober reluctantly set the console aside and joined him at the small table. The meal was simple but delicious, and Sober devoured it with the same ravenous enthusiasm as before.Adams chuckled. "You eat like a stray dog, mate. Slow down, or you'll choke."
Sober grinned sheepishly but continued eating, savoring every bite. After dinner, he returned to the game, playing late into the night. When the console's battery finally died, he stared at the dark screen in horror. "Oh no! I broke it!"
Adams waved a hand dismissively. "Relax, mate. It just needs to be charged. We'll sort it out in the morning."
Relieved but still embarrassed, Sober set the console aside and stretched out on the couch. "I don't know anything," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.