The first thing the Boy heard was the wails. They echoed among the empty, claustrophobic urban valleys. Armed with his trusted bat, he ran towards the sound, ready to assist as much as his seven-year-old frame could.
He found the source by the park. Its patchy grass struggled against the concrete jungle. It was a small oasis of green, resisting the gray. To him, the one place in the Satellite Zone that didn't feel like a cage.
A girl holding her bleeding knee while rolling in the dirt. Frozen for a second, he felt as if he were watching a scene from a fairy tale, surreal in a way he hadn't encountered yet.
She looked small, like a porcelain doll, but slim as a baby reindeer. Without hesitation, the youngster stepped forward. He asked what had happened while pulling a piece of cloth from his backpack.
Some kids had thrown her ball on top of the tree, said the Girl. While he cleaned her knee, she explained how she fell when trying to get it back after the mean children had left. She used her hands a lot, illustrating with precision the scene. When asked why she cared, she said it was her mother's last gift before her parents got "unmarried".
He offered to get it back for her. She asked why he would do that for a stranger. Mommy had told her to be wary of them, and she had never been wrong.
He paused, scratching his head and thinking about how his brother always said to help people in need. Then she shrugged and said he could try if it wasn't any trouble.
She responded about how dangerous it would be. He chuckled, claiming he had done it several times. The Girl doubted him, crossing her arms in front of her chest in defiance.
Then, the Boy leapt into the trunk. His hands gripped the wood like a squirrel. He even imitated their cries, making the child below laugh. That turned to a gasp when his foot slipped free for a second before he recovered his balance.
Ball recovered, he made the descent with greater focus, not wanting a repeat of the climb. Upon recovering her treasure, she clutched the ball to her chest as if it were the world itself. Her tear-streaked face now beamed like the sun after a storm.
"What's your name?" said the girl, offering her hand. "I'm Sam. I just moved here."
"Hello Sam, I'm Caelan." Responded him, accepting the hand into a firm handshake. "I think I'm your first friend here."
-----
The first thing he noticed was the pain. Like molten metal had replaced his blood. Growling a bit, Caelan tried to sit up, finding each of his movements far slower than usual.
Then he felt a massive mass in his stomach. That had him awake faster than the time lighting takes to appear.
A gigantic belly greeted him, with his chest now two mounds of fat falling over his round shape. Breathing fast, he grabbed at it. It was his. But his arms looked like overstuffed sausages, not well-toned muscles. He had worked for years to carve them.
What is going on? He pinched himself—hard. The pain shot through his nerves, all too real. Oh, great…
Looking around, he couldn't place where he had ended up finding himself. White curtains boxed him in. The sterile look reminded him of a hospital. To his surprise, a young girl, around the end of his teens, slept in a chair beside the bed.
"Excuse me, miss…" Calling her didn't seem to produce any effect, so he gave a gentle push. "Hey, sorry to wake you, but I would like to know what happened."
Her half-opened eyes locked on him, making her perk up at once, utter shock all over her young face. Tears started coming down her hazel eyes once she relaxed a bit. "My lord! You are awake!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Oh, I should go find a doctor! Wait just a moment, my lord!"
"Wait!" Ignoring him, the girl ran outside the space closed off by the curtains. "Guess I'm in a hospital."
Could he have been in a coma? But if that had been the case, he would have lost muscle mass, not gained fat. Upon closer inspection, his hands looked less rough. They lacked the callouses from years of boxing and the military. Also, the skin looked off. It was too pale, even for him. Paler than when he broke his leg.
"Fucking useless maid!" To his side, a somewhat echoing voice rang.
What Caelan saw couldn't be explained by logic. A green blob, shaped like a human, floated at eye level. A detailed face stared daggers at the spot where the girl had been. Upon noticing the man staring at him with his mouth agape, his teeth scraped against one another. "You fucker can see me?"
"Well, I guess I am going insane."
"Give me back my body, you slimy piece of horse manure!" The creature flew at him, ignoring Caelan's raised arms. Protecting him from any potential impact. Instead, it went through him, ending up on the other side. "What have you done to me?!"
"What have I…? I don't even know what is happening!"
"Bollocks! You must have done something to end up controlling MY body!"
When he was about to give an answer, the girl came back with an old woman dressed in a white lab coat. Without waiting, she stepped forward. Asking a barrage of questions while checking his condition. "My lord, does it hurt anywhere? How much do you remember of what happened?"
"Just tell her you took my body from me so we can correct this fuckery!"
"Shut up!"
From the corner of his eye, he could see the apparition freeze. "Wait, I can hear your thoughts! What in the abyssal shit is this?"
"If you don't know, how am I supposed to?" Gripping the blanket, Caelan turned to the older woman. "I'm sorry, but could you repeat that last part?"
or some reason, both women seemed taken aback by his request. The young maid even came close to falling to the ground, so strong were her knees shaking. The older doctor looked at him with clinical eyes. Then, she pressed her hand to his forehead. Her gaze turned to concern as she gripped him by the shoulders. "Lord Sturmfeld, do you recognize this woman behind me?"
Freezing up, Caelan kept his eyes fixed on the doctor. "What… did you call me?"
"No… this can't be!"
The woman sighed at his question. "Maia, could you do me a favor and leave us for a moment?"
"No! Can't you all see this is an impostor? He doesn't even know my name!"
Pulling a chair closer, the woman sat beside the bed. "First, let me assure you that you are safe."
Despite it all seeming too unreal, Caelan answered, "Alright…"
"I'm Dr. Moreau, and I'm the one in charge of taking care of you. Do you remember why you are here?"
"Because he stole my fucking body!"
As the blob said that, a passing headache shot right between his eyes, causing him to flinch. "Shut up already!" Looking at how the doctor waited for an answer, he swallowed what little spit he had before giving one. "I don't…"
"Right. Sorry if I'm wrong, but are you being honest right now?"
For a moment he took a quick glance at the floating ghost haunting him nearby. "Yes… ma'am."
Moreau leaned back, relaxing a bit. "Do you feel any physical discomfort? Pain, nausea, anything?"
Extreme confusion. "Just a short headache now."
"Do you remember who you are?"
On that, Caelan paused to ponder. An idea crossed his mind, so absurd in its entirety he chastised himself for even coming up with it. He reminded himself of the words of his former C.O.: Keep it simple, soldier. Ain't no time to solve a riddle when bullets are flying. With that in mind, he had no choice but to, at least for now, accept the possibility as the truth. But first, he decided to test the waters.
"Leopold," he said, testing the name like a foreign word on his tongue.
"See? He's clearly pretending!"
The woman had a relieved smile on her face. "And what else can you tell me about you?"
"Well… I think I am a noble, son of a count." The woman nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I study at Hollowbane Academy, under the Weaver course."
"What else?"
"That girl from before." He focused on her hair and clothing, realizing he had seen them before. Or at least, a pixelated version of them. "She's my personal maid, Maia." He paused, coming to the conclusion he should play it safe for the moment. "That's all. Everything else feels… muddled."
A silence filled with weight followed between the two. "Very well. I know things might be very confusing right now, but I'm here to help you through it. Alright?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"There's been… an incident, which caused you to be sent here, under my care." From the corner of his eye, Caelan saw the talking blob flinch. It looked away, silent for the first time. The medic got up to her feet, placing one hand over his shoulder. "This may have caused your memory loss, but we'll only know for sure once we run some exams in the morning. For now, I'll send Maia home to give you the opportunity to rest, alright?"
Once she left, only Caelan and the thing remained. Taking a deep breath, the displaced man turned to the apparition. "You know what the incident is, don't you?"
"And why the fuck should I tell you anything?"
Caelan could feel a vein popping on his forehead. "And here I thought you loved the sound of your voice as much as a drill sergeant."
"Oh, fuck you! You don't get to be funny after stealing MY body!"
"From the looks of it, the poor thing could use new management," Caelan said, patting his swollen belly. "Seriously, have you ever heard of a salad?"
"You… you…" He swung a fist at Caelan's head, the blow passing straight through like smoke. "Damn it all!" Leopold tried to grab the vase nearby. But it was a repeat of his earlier attempt. "You can't just steal my body and mock me, you piece of…"
"Careful, wouldn't want to strain yourself. Oh, wait."
Seeing the little thing cussing gave him a warm feeling. But Caelan needed to confirm things before deciding what to do next. "I know how to save Sofia."
Leopold froze mid-rant, his flickering form going still. "How do you know that name?" His voice trembled, stripped of its earlier venom.
His suspicion settled, Caelan closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of Sam. "I know many things. Of particular interest to you, where she is and how to save her."
Leopold floated closer, almost going straight through his own body's head. "If you are lying, Matron helps me…"
"I don't lie. Like it or not, I'm your best shot at seeing her again. And you're the only way I can keep this charade without raising suspicion."
One could see Leopold's intense struggle. His tiny ghost hands turned into fists as he weighed his options. After a time that stretched into infinity, he relented. "Alright. What do you want to know?"
Caelan, arms crossed, leaned against the pillows. He thought about what to prioritize. "What date is it today?"
It seemed as if he was about to question the first inquiry, but he kept his mouth shut. "Thirteenth of the Frostwind Cycle."
"January, then." Ignoring the look of confusion on his face, Caelan went on. "Then you already got caught for giving the order for the Red Fist to assault Kai Garnier?"
"…"
"Well?"
"Yes, I did."
"Have you been expelled already after getting caught?"
"A hearing with the fucking headmistress would happen tomorrow, if not for... what happened."
Looking around the hospital room, Caelan had a shiver run down his spine. "And what did happen, Leopold?"
He remained silent, a frigid expression covering his demeanor. "I had… an accident. After reading a message from my father." Leopold's voice faltered, his spectral form dimming. "And no, I don't want to talk about it."
"This could be important."
"Does that bloody matter?"
Caelan counted to five before continuing. "Leopold, you weren't supposed to be hospitalized. The more you tell me, the better I can help get my bearings on the situation. So, just say what the message is about."
Even saying that, the spirit took some time to answer. "My father disowned me, alright? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
This caused Caelan to flinch. "What?"
"Having my… animosity toward the Garnier guy to every student. And all the other accusations. Got him angrier than usual."
Holding his head with both hands for a moment, Caelan took a deep breath to calm his accelerated heart. "This isn't what's supposed to happen."
"Excuse me?"
"You'd be expelled," Caelan said, meeting Leopold's stunned gaze. "But it would have been quiet. No public scandal, nothing to anger your father."
A sharp pause. "He would have brought you home. Found some way to use you in his plans, despite the mess you made."
"How… how in the Abyssal Wastes do you know all this?" As the young man didn't answer, Leopold raised his voice. "Who are you?"
"Because… this was the story of a video game I played." Whatever the answer he expected, this made Leopold's mouth agape. "At least, this is how the story went there."
"A… videogame? Are you kidding me?"
"Your name is Leopold vorn Sturmfeld, son of Duke Heinrich. Your sister, Sofia—she's alive." Caelan paused, watching the specter's flickering form. "Your father sent her away years ago. That's all I know… for now."
This barrage of information on his backstory had Leopold frozen in place. "I can continue if you want."
"I'm… a bloody fictional character to you?" His voice cracked, swinging between disbelief and rage. "What am I, some sideshow for your entertainment?"
To that, Caelan sighed. "Doesn't matter. I'll act as if everything is real, regardless of the truth."
"Fuck…"
"Leopold, I… WE can help Sofia. Focus on that; freak out later."
It took a long time before the conflicted man responded. "Fine. Say your piece. But if you're lying, I swear—"
"Something changed things for you. I don't know what or how, but if I'm to find out what happened, I'll need you to help me."
"How? I can't even touch shit; what can I do that will bloody matter?"
"Teach me. I know a lot about this world, but the game 100% left a lot of small details that only a native would know. Our situation feels like a Shattered. They have memories of a past life. So, unless we want to raise suspicion..."
"You must behave perfectly." Voice hollow, Leopold's form dimmed as he sank lower. "Where's Sofia?"
Caelan hesitated. "She's under the service of a minor noble on the southern border. Not the easiest life, but safe enough."
"She's safe?" The words left him in a whisper that was almost inaudible. His form flickered, shrinking in on itself. "After all this time, she's… she's alive? Matron bless… I thought…" It felt as if the small blob had the weight of the world lifted from it. Curling in a ball, he sobbed a bit. "For years, I thought the worst. That she got sent to some whorehouse, or worse." Nothing came out of his eyes, but the way his body convulsed up and down felt more than enough. "Matron be blessed, she's alright!"
"For now." Before Leopold could unleash whatever barrage of questions he had, Caelan interjected. "In a few years, the minor lords will gather together in open rebellion. In the original storyline, you arrive too late to save her. She dies in your arms, not recognizing you."
"We have to save her!" The ghost, despair etched on its face, tried to grab the outsider by his shirt. It forgot its inability to do so. "Please, I'll do anything!"
"That goes without saying. If your… accident tells us anything, it's that we've got room for maneuver." Offering his hand to the tiny specter, Caelan looked into his eyes. "If you help me, we can save not only your sister, but prevent every tragedy from ever occurring."
For a brief second, Leopold raised his arm, but stopped midway. "Why do you even care about her? Or anyone, for that matter? If what you said is true, we are all just fucking video game characters."
A flash of Sam smiling while playing games, leaning back against his chest, came to him. "Someone… I knew deeply loved you all."
"What?"
"She cared about you. All of you." Caelan had to hold back the tears threatening to come out. "I don't know if that makes this real, but it makes it matter. And every soldier needs a mission. Guess this is mine now."
Biting his lips, Leopold looked at the massive hand. Then he passed his arm through it. "Fine. I'll make sure you… we don't get caught. Then, we save Sofia."
"And everyone else."