In ink-black silence, the man slowly opened his eyes. Before him floated a bizarre book, its lock glinting like a cold crescent. A drift of familiar scent tugged him to take it.

Ding.

His fingers brushed the cover. The lock chimed; a chain coiled his right wrist like a silver snake. He moved to resist, then froze— that smooth, moon-slick right hand wasn’t his. Delicate, porcelain-pale, it belonged on a girl, not on a man like him.

He pressed the panic down, like submerging a flame. He grabbed the chain again, knuckles whitening like frost. As he pulled, the darkness peeled away like mist at dawn. He flinched— not at the sudden sight, but at the circle of “people” surrounding him.

Some wore wings, feathers stirring like quiet leaves. Others had a radiant glow at their backs, a sheet of holy light like sunrise. Their stares pricked his skin, awkward heat rising; he lifted that unfamiliar hand and gave a small wave.

“Hi?”

A light, airy voice spilled out of him, like a silver bell in winter air. The change startled him more than the crowd.

As if answering, a tall “person” raised his right hand too. Warmth didn’t follow; a chill formed into a light-gun, cold as frost.

Whoosh.

The shot tore the air, an arrow of brilliance aimed between his brows.

Calm flooded first, deep and still as a lake. For some reason, he knew the shot held no threat. It wouldn’t even pierce his skin.

He was right. The moment it kissed his forehead, the light-gun unraveled. Glass turned to dust, the shards melting into the air as if it had never existed.

The shooter didn’t flinch, statue-still. He drew a light-sword from his hip and charged, a comet in full burn.

Panic fluttered; instinct reached out. He snatched the strange book hovering by his right side and set it as a shield.

Ding.

Steel kissed paper with a bell’s note. Then the “person” was hurled back by a tidal force, slammed into the wall. Gold blood streamed from his back, like liquid sun.

Why gold?

First, cross out red. In normal circumstances, blood’s black or green. So gold isn’t weird. Heh.

Shock rolled through him like thunder. How did his strength spike so high?

But under the shock, pride swelled, warm as rising fire.

Eighteen years living as a failure; a death as absurd as thunder in a teacup— after all, getting hit by a road roller at home isn’t normal. Now he’d crossed into a world with magic. His body was strong. Even someone who looked powerful had gone down with a casual move. Feeling superior wasn’t strange at all.

He swept a look over the creatures still circling him like wolves. Fear faded to curiosity, then to a cool, dismissive edge. A dangerous smile cut across his lips.

“Well then, let’s run some experiments.”