Three months have passed since I awoke in this unfamiliar body, in a hospital far from anything I once called home. The sterile white walls that once felt confining have become a strange comfort, a place where I have had nothing but time to unravel the tangled threads of my new existence. Bit by bit, I have pieced together the truth—about myself, about this world, and about the man whose name I now carry: Daniel.
I learned first about where I am. America, but not the America I remembered. Here, the land is divided into three massive territories: the West, the Central, and the East. Each segment is ruled not by politicians or presidents, but by seven martial artists—legendary figures known as the Old Gods, who command their domains with the authority of ancient kings. Their rule is absolute; law and order are enforced with a mixture of discipline, fear, and, for the lucky, respect. The world outside the hospital is a patchwork of cities and arenas, each segment with its own customs, fighting styles, and traditions. The weak survive by wit or luck; the strong shape the future with their fists and their will.
Gradually, I discovered more about the body I now inhabit. Daniel was not an ordinary man. Whispers in the hospital corridors, hushed conversations between staff, and the occasional visitor revealed a legend in the making. Daniel had dared to challenge one of the Old Gods, the near-mythical martial rulers of Central America. The duel, I learned, ended in his defeat, but not in disgrace. The match was so fiercely contested and evenly matched that it sent shockwaves through the entire Central segment. Daniel's strength, skill, and sheer audacity earned him respect, even in loss. His battered body was brought to the hospital by order of the Old Gods themselves—a rare act of honor in a world where mercy is seldom shown.
Rumors surrounding the Old Gods only added to the sense of mystique. It was said they possessed powers beyond mere martial prowess, possibly drawn from ancient rituals or mysterious artifacts. Some whispered that they could use superhuman prowess or glimpse into the future with unnerving accuracy. These abilities, whether myth or truth, were part of what made them figures of awe and fear, gods ruling over a land where the line between legend and reality blurred.
Day by day, I have adapted to this body. I trained quietly in my room, mimicking movements I had seen on television or learned from the few books the staff would occasionally slip me. My memories of a gentle, sedentary life have become ghosts that haunt the edges of my mind, replaced by the reality of muscle memory and instinct that belong to Daniel. Each day, I grow a little stronger, a little more attuned to the man whose life I now live. But with each passing day, the question remains: who am I, truly? The man I was, the man Daniel was, or something entirely new, forged in the crucible of this strange new world? One thing, however, is clear: I must find Chloe and understand why I have been granted this second chance. The Old Gods, their territories, and the mysteries they hold are now irrevocably tied to my fate. I need to uncover my purpose in this world, and perhaps in doing so, unravel my own identity. It's not just survival that's at stake; there's a deeper quest for truth and belonging that calls to me beyond these hospital walls.
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[to be continued]
Sorry the chapter is short. I was busy.