Darkness. Silence. A fleeting moment where nothing existed—not even thought.

Then—breath. A sharp, gasping inhale, as if breaking the surface of a deep ocean. His eyes shot open.

The ceiling above him was unfamiliar. Cracks ran through the plaster like veins, the dim light from a dusty window casting long shadows across the room. His body felt strange—lighter, smaller. His hands trembled as he lifted them into view.

These weren't his hands.

His chest rose and fell too quickly, panic rising in his throat. He tried to remember—tried to hold onto something, anything that made sense. There had been pain. A sharp, final moment. Death. He was sure of it.

And yet… he was here. Alive. And judging by the reflection in the cracked mirror across the room, he was fifteen years old.

Arthur swallowed hard, the pounding in his head matching the rapid beat of his heart. He didn't know how or why he was here. But one thing was certain—he needed to find answers.

And first, he needed to find food.

Arthur had seen enough movies to know that restaurants often threw away half-eaten food. If he wanted to survive, he needed to find one. He wandered the streets, scanning his surroundings for a place where people gathered. After some searching, he finally found a restaurant bustling with life. Through the window, he saw people laughing, eating, and enjoying themselves.

He made his way to the back of the restaurant, hoping to find discarded food. Luck was on his side. He rummaged through the trash and found some edible scraps. Without hesitation, he ate as much as he could, filling his empty stomach.

With his hunger sated, his next priority was finding shelter for the night. Arthur wandered through the streets, eventually reaching the slums. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, and the buildings stood in various states of disrepair. After some searching, he found an abandoned building. It wasn't much, but it would keep him safe for the night.

Exhausted, he settled in a corner, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. Tomorrow, he would figure out his next move. But for now, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.