Zukko felt like shit.
Shit of the festering, pungent kind.
Everywhere hurt. His bones. His skin. Even his balls, for some reason.
As if he'd been chewed by a great beast and spat out like a glob of saliva.
Or passed out with dung through the other end.
He rubbed his eyes, yawning wide.
He felt refreshed and unnerved at the same time.
As if he'd slept for years but on a cold, hard floor.
A weird combination of strangeness all over him.
There was a feint tinge around him. In the air. In every breath he drew. Seeping through the pores of his skin.
Like pulsing streams of energy.
Or maybe his body disagreed with something.
He couldn't place a finger on what it was.
But it felt potent. Real yet so subtle it could be neglected.
What happened?
He stumbled as he stood up.
His body didn't feel right.
Like he'd borrowed every organ from a passerby.
Also, the distance from his eyes to the ground appeared greater than usual.
Had he grown taller?
He stared down at his arms. Pale skin over sturdy forearms.
Speaking of, his upper arms felt heavier. Not bulky, just handsomely prominent.
Seriously, what the fuck happened?
With the darkness surrounding him, he barely saw beyond a certain limit.
An eerie quietness enveloped his eerie surrounding as well.
"Uhmm…hello?"
His own voice startled him.
A strange voice.
Deep yet velvety. Sonorous.
It echoed as if he were in some kind of hollow space.
He lifted those foreign arms to his head to at least get an idea.
His palm passed over long silky hair falling wildly down his back.
Sharp chin and high cheekbones.
Nothing remotely close to what was usual.
Surprise transformed to panic.
Holy Fucking Mother of a Chipmunk!
His brain was foggy.
He couldn't remember anything.
Something happened…
He felt like screaming.
He screamed.
"Hello! Somebody help—"
Blaring white light burned through his eyes.
He blinked the glare away.
He squinted at a wide round blob of light at the centre of a low ceiling that brushed the top of his head.
His gaze trailed down.
The beating of his heart spiked with each new detail he absorbed.
A small rotund room.
Sterile white walls.
Sterile white mattress pushed against the wall.
Tiled floor as white as the walls and sparkling clean.
Plastic basin at the far end for activities of the gag worthy kind.
Fresh iron bars blocking the way out.
All shimmered feintly, as if giving off grey sparks.
"Why am I in a cell?"
It didn't make sense at all.
Last he remembered…
Echoing footsteps approached from the other side.
A fat, squat man in flowing grey robe appeared at the end of the narrow corridor.
He wasn't alone.
Two men in black body suits flanked him.
Well, armor suits fitted to their powerful bodies. Not metallic armor.
Swords strapped to their waists.
Faces hidden behind hoods and weird looking nose masks, dark capes flowing to the floor behind them.
The squat man grinned. A hungry smile from a wolf about to pounce.
A sudden sense of uneases ceased Zukko.
It was so unusual he flinched as the man started talking.
"Good. You're finally awake. I'm guessing you quite appreciate your living arrangements? I hear you fancy your comforts in shades of white."
Zukko frowned at the man.
"Are you high?"
"What?"
"Is this some kind of sick joke? Are you planning to use me for an experiment?
My brain barely works! I can't add numbers to save my life!"
"Sell my organs?
I should let you know that I've eaten so much junk food my liver has probably turned to oil by now."
"I've donated a third of my kidneys for money already..
And I'm not a virgin! Your ritual won't work!"
The squat man stared at him in shock before smiling. His shaved head glinted.
"The rumors are true. You do love your silly games."
"What games? Let me out this minute or I'll call the cops!"
"Cops?"
"You know, the police? Po Po? Friend of the weak and defeated?"
"...?!"
Squat man stared at him as if he'd lost a nut somewhere.
"Well, it's a pleasure having a fugitive as esteemed at yourself in my dungeons, Caedren Valerian."
"Who the hell is Caedren Valenfuck? My name is Zukko. Zukko…well, just Zukko."
The man kept on smiling as if used to such tirades by now.
"Anyway, I just came to congratulate you on your last night here. You've been a model prisoner throughout your stay."
He nodded at the figure on his right.
Black gloved hands shoved a bundle of white clothes through the bars.
"Bought these with my own resources. It'll give me great pride to witness you go out in style. Till we meet again."
He turned and shuffled away, the guards marching in steps behind him.
Zukko was so shocked he couldn't speak for a moment.
"Hey! Get me out of here!"
He gripped the bars and shook. It barely even budged.
He pounded it, releasing thumping noises.
But squat man and gaurds rounded the corner without even a backward glance.
"Get back here!"
"Yo, Fucktwat! Chill with the noise. Trying to nap here."
A face appeared through the bars left of the corridor.
Gaunt cheeks. Matted silver hair. Decaying teeth gritted.
"You're causing a racket, disturbing the weary."
"Can you mind your effing business, Gandalf?"
"Gandalf?"
"Gandalf, as in the wizard? Lord of the rings?"
Gaunt face frowned.
"What's a wizard?"
Zukko sighed in disbelief.
Now he was stuck in jail with a total moron for company.
Maybe he could weasel out some bit of information from him. Crazy or not.
"How long have I been here?"
The man scoffed.
"You give me the silent treatment for days and now you want to chat like bossom friends?"
Zukko stumbled back.
Days?
But he'd only been out for…he couldn't remember.
"Like how long are we talking about?"
The man turned away.
"Talk to the bars."
Zukko's frustration spiked but he held it in.
Getting angry won't win him favors.
"Ok, I'm sorry for being a snob."
"And a pompous airhead?"
"Yes, that too."
"You sure you won't resume giving me the silent treatment after I let you have your way with me?"
For fucks sake!!
"I won't give you the silent treatment."
"You promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Gandalf looked confused.
"You don't have a heart."
That was new.
Zukko lacked so many things but a beating heart wasn't one of them.
"They brought you in three days ago. Considering you're you they had to tranquilize you for transportation from…"
He continued rambling on but Zukko's attention had short-circuited.
Three days?
Impossible.
He closed his eyes and dug deep.
Surely he'd not hit his head to get an amnesia or something…
His eyes flew wide as memories flooded in.
His twenty fifth birthday…no one to celebrate with.
Gulping down bottle after bottle of cheap wine.
Staggering out into the street like the textbook drunk.
Light as a feather.
Asteroids crisscrossing the night sky like shooting stars…
The strange man…You have been marked for misery…
Trembling earth and scorching flames…
Pain like nothing he'd ever felt as a building crashed over him…
Bones crushed. Blood splattering everywhere…
Darkness. Death?
Surely he'd died at some point.
No one could survive the weight of a concrete building and live to spread the rumor.
But here he was.
Alive and breathing.
Jailed, yes, but alive.
Not a scratch. No wheelchair necessary. Still capable of procreation. Whole.
Was this the afterlife?
Knees wobbling, he returned to the bars.
Gandalf was still there. Perfect.
"Are you dead?"
"...!?"
"Like…do you feel dead?"
"I can't claim to understand—"
"How did you die?"
"Die?"
Zukko was getting frustrated with the man's daftness.
"You must've died to get here!"
"Don't raise your voice at me! You're in no position to tell me of I'm dead or not!"
"But—"
Gandalf interrupted, obviously agitated now.
"I'm very much alive, thank you. Now, I'd like us to return to the silent treatment phase. I don't feel safe around you."
Zukko had to sit down to process this.
The mattress dipped under his weight. Soft and comfy but small for his height.
He didn't die.
But the building had crushed him…
"If I died, then where am I?"
"This is not my body…"
He gasped.
"Did I die and transmigrate?"
What were the odds?
Such things only happened in web novels and anime.
You know, weak bozo of an MC transmigrates to a new world where he gains tremendous power and a deep glow up.
That kind of fantastic stuff.
Not in reality.
But he was living proof of otherwise.
"I transmigrated to a different universe. Or an alternate timeline?"
In the novels, the unfortunate victim always ended up in a vast castle as dejected heir of a vast kingdom.
Wealthy and affluent regardless of the customary insults to his person.
Not in jail.
Not with a freaking Gandalf for company.
No wonder the warden had called him by another name.
Caedren Valerian.
Sounded powerful. Had an ominous ring to it.
Better than Zukko.
Caedren had an origin. Valerian…a family.
"What do I do now?"
He glanced at the pile of clothes.
The warden had mentioned something about his final night here.
That meant he was getting released tomorrow.
He rushed back to the bars.
"Hey, Gandalf!"
"My name's Dirren, Fucktwat! Not Granny!"
Zukko…ok, Caedren was too excited to get angry by the curse word.
"Dirren…when d—"
"I told you not to talk to me."
"Just one question, I promise."
Dirren humphed, assuming an air of importance.
"Proceed."
Son of a bitch, thought Zukko…Caedren.
It would take a while to get used to the new personality.
"What time do I get released tomorrow?"
He couldn't wait.
There wasn't any way to tell time. No windows or clocks.
He guessed this was nighttime.
Dawn only a few hours away.
Then freedom…
"Released?"
"Yeah! Slug warden brought me clothes for the occasion."
Dirren doubled over laughing.
Tears streamed down his eyes when he finally stopped.
"Released? You? The most infamous thief, vandal and nuisance in the world?"
Ok, maybe Caedren wasn't as noble as he'd assumed.
"So…not released?"
Dirren's excited eyes pinned on him.
"Nobody gets released from Veil Spire. This is the first and only stop to the chopping block."
"Chopping block?"
Dirren nodded, toothy smile intact.
"The only occasion tomorrow is your execution."
"...?!"
Shit!
Author Note: Thanks for the power stones. Keep them coming. I'm participating in a contest. Please review, comment and vote.