I lay on the ground, trying to catch my breath, while my mind attempted to convince me that everything happening was nothing more than an illusion, or maybe just hallucinations caused by the shock.
Several minutes passed without me moving. Then I raised my hand, staring at the deep wound left by the glass shards earlier. It was healing at an incredibly fast rate. The dark bruises gradually faded, and the deep scratches closed up as if they had never existed.
I slowly closed my fingers, feeling the palm of my hand that no longer hurt. In fact, it felt better than before.
Ever since I woke up in this body, nothing has made sense. That insane killer, and those strange flames.
Who is Jevan, really? The more I tried to dig deeper, the more I found myself surrounded by more questions without any answers.
I exhaled in frustration, then ran my fingers through my sweat-drenched hair. I wished more than anything to have at least a fragment of his memories. Maybe then, I could understand what was happening here.
But the moment the thought crossed my mind, I felt a sharp stab in my skull. At first, the pain was mild, but it quickly escalated until it felt like a heavy hammer smashing into my head without mercy.
Then, without warning, memories rushed in. They weren't clear or coherent. They were like broken glass pieces reflecting scattered images of a small child wandering barefoot in the street, wearing ragged clothes.
Then a scene of a man running at night, brief laughter in moments of innocence, and then blood... so much blood.
The memories poured in like a flood, revealing a past full of conflict. I tried to dive deeper, looking for any thread that would lead me to the so-called System Pieces, or the gray haired man, or even an explanation for this madness.
But the deeper I tried to go, the more I slammed into invisible barriers, as if a force was preventing me from seeing the truth.
After several attempts, frustration swelled in my chest. The memories I had gained didn't bring me any answers, only more questions.
I tried to steady my breathing and clear my mind amid the chaos inside my head. The memories weren't complete, but at least they gave me a glimpse of this world, of my current reality.
I am currently in the imperial capital, Medlia, specifically in the lower district. A perfect place to hide, but also the worst place to find myself in. It's a place full of chaos and crime.
As for the "System Pieces," they remain a mystery. I didn't find anything about them in Jevan's memories. From what I could gather, supernatural powers are not a common thing in this world.
"So, what's happening to me?"
The powers I possess now, whatever they are, were not part of Jevan's previous life. I had to make a quick decision about my next step. Staying in this abandoned building wasn't a good option.
As for going to the police? A terrible idea. Not only because they might not believe my story, but because, through Jevan's memories, I learned their dirty truth. The police here are rotten to the core.
If I were caught, they would probably sell me to that madman for a bit of money.
Then there's another issue: supernatural powers are not accepted in this world. If the truth about me were revealed, who knows how they would react? They might label me insane.
But the most confusing part wasn't the police. It was that madman. Why did he ignite those strange flames that didn't burn the building or leave any trace?
I didn't have time to think about his irrational actions, because the pain surged in my head again, cutting off my thoughts.
And the memories returned, violently overlapping with my current ones, tearing through my mind without mercy. I tried to resist, but my body couldn't take it. My vision blurred, and my strength collapsed completely.
...
I opened my eyes to find myself lying on a worn-out bed in a small, cramped room. It took me a few seconds to realize that... I didn't know where I was.
I tried to sit up, but my body was far too heavy, as if I had been running for days without rest. My head throbbed, and my limbs barely responded. I exhaled and looked around.
I tried to remember the last thing that happened. The fire, the escape, the sudden pain in my head, and then... nothing.
Before I could gather myself, I heard footsteps approaching from outside. The door rattled. I fixed my gaze on it, bracing for whatever might come next.
The doorknob turned, and the door finally opened, revealing a young woman standing in the doorway. She was short, thin, with short brown hair that looked as if someone had cut it carelessly without attention. Her wide hazel eyes stared at me cautiously, and her fingers clung to the edge of the door.
She sighed in annoyance.
"Finally, you're awake."
Her tone was dry, carrying no concern or interest, just a mix of boredom and irritation. I tried to sit up, but my body was in terrible shape.
She stepped inside, placing her hands on her hips, then looked me over from head to toe.
"Who are you?" I asked sharply.
"I'm your savior."
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Is that how you thank the person who saved your life? I found you unconscious in an abandoned building, and decided to be generous and help you."
"And what made you go into an abandoned building?"
"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself first? You're the one who was passed out there, not me."
Her manner of speaking irritated me slightly, but I didn't have the energy to argue. I took a deep breath to calm the growing headache and asked:
"So why did you help me?"
She shrugged indifferently.
"Curiosity, boredom, maybe a hidden desire to save a pitiful soul. Who knows?"
Then she gave a slight smile and said:
"In any case, don't expect me to stick around and take care of you. If you can stand up, do it."
I sighed in annoyance as I ran my hand over my face.
"How long was I unconscious?"
"A day and a half, roughly."
"I was out that long?"
"Yes, I even thought you were dead. Luckily, you woke up."
I pressed my lips together and scanned the place quickly.
"And where are we now?"
She replied:
"In a relatively safe place. Let's just say no one will be looking for you here."
I asked directly:
"What's your name?"
"Iris."
I repeated the name slowly, then said seriously:
"Iris, huh? You didn't help me just out of kindness, did you? What do you want in return?"
"Nothing, as I told you. I helped you out of pity, nothing more."
I leaned my head against the wall, studying her expression. Her tone carried no hint of deceit, but I still couldn't believe her easily.
"Really?"
"Are you doubting my intentions?"
"Yes." I replied without hesitation.
She laughed, then said in a tone that mixed sarcasm with amusement:
"You're quite narrow minded."
She continued in a calm voice that still had a provocative edge:
"I saved you out of kindness, but instead of thanking me, you doubt my motives?"
I didn't answer. She wasn't angry, but rather seemed amused in some strange way, as if she found hidden joy in the argument. Still, I wasn't ready to believe her so easily.
In the lower district, no one gives anything for free. That's a solid rule, and those who ignore it usually end up dead in some back alley. But for now, I had no choice but to go along with her.
"Well then, thank you."
"No, you miserable thing. I didn't do it to be thanked, especially not by you."
"Then why did you expect me to thank you?"
"Me? I expected that? Don't be ridiculous. All I said was that you doubt my intentions instead of being grateful. I never asked you for thanks."
She crossed her arms and watched me closely, as if waiting for a specific reaction.
I simply sighed and shook my head in resignation.
"So am I supposed to thank you now, or keep doubting?"
"That's up to you. If you prefer doubting, that's your choice. If you prefer gratitude, that doesn't concern me either."
I gathered what strength I had left, ignoring the pain gnawing at every muscle in my body. Then I stood up, swaying.
"Are you still staring at me like that? Didn't it cross your mind to offer me something to eat? Or is watching me starve entertaining for you?"
"You're extremely rude."
I leaned on the bed and said:
"Aren't you my savior, according to you?"
I lazily waved my hand.
"Isn't it your duty to take care of me? You can't just leave me here to die of hunger. That goes against hospitality rules, doesn't it?"
"Get your own food." she said flatly.
I blinked, taking in the walls around me, then looked back at her with a blank expression and pointed to myself with my thumb.
"And where exactly am I supposed to find this food?"
I gestured around the room.
"I don't even know where I am right now. How do you expect me to go find food like I'm at home?"
"Fine, follow me."
I pointed at myself with an overly dramatic gesture before saying in a grumbling tone:
"You want me to follow you in this condition? I can barely walk. I feel like I'll collapse any second."
"Do you want me to carry you on my back? Stop whining and follow me."
I exhaled slowly, muttering, "What wonderful help..." Then, despite everything, I followed her with heavy steps.
She opened the room door without waiting for me. I followed her through the narrow, dark hallway. We descended a muddy wooden staircase that looked like a thousand feet had trampled it without mercy. A foul smell, a mix of cheap alcohol and tobacco, began to fill my nose before we even reached the bottom.
Then we arrived at what looked like a small tavern. The atmosphere resembled a swamp collecting the worst this city had to offer. The tables were old, and the place was filled with tired men and women who looked like life had drained every drop of hope from them.
The patrons were a strange mix of beggars and criminals (maybe the latter part is a bit of an exaggeration, but they really did look like criminals). My companion confidently approached the bar and stood before a bald, massive man who was basically a mountain of muscle and scattered scars. His gaze was sharp like knives.
The place felt strangely familiar, even though I was certain I had never been here before. I looked around, trying to extract any memory of it, but there was nothing in Jevan's broken memories that mentioned this place. Still, I felt like I had been here before.