"...Huh?... Where... am I?"
The young man pushed himself up. The world still spinning around slowly as he fought for composure, gripping his head.
Two steps back carried him into something solid. He turned around, vision still hazy. A distorted, faint reflection of himself was visible in the wall, beyond which he saw an endless violet sky, painted in streaks of red.
He extended his finger towards his reflection only to be rebuked by the ice-cold walls, as if they were made of frozen bones from hell.
He took a slow turn, the same scenery visible behind. The floor beneath was a broken chessboard of white marble and black granite, fractured in places where raw earth jutted through.
Each step sent a shiver down his spine, his breath hanging in the air as mist.
Far beyond the cage's transparent walls a platform floated in the endless void. Unlike his, the flooring lacked scars.
As the blur in his eyes faded, a shadowy figure became visible to him, the silhouette's outline waving like grass blades in a field.
"Finally awake, I see. I half-expected you to lie there for another hour or two."
The voice was deep and steady—carrying a weight that felt strangely familiar, it unsettled the lost man, whose disoriented mind struggled to recognize it.
"Do you remember anything... about why you're here... or where this place is... Dexter?"
Dexter's eyes widened. The ringing in his ears faded as he lifted his head slowly; a sweat bead ran down his forehead. He remained frozen, unable to respond.
"How does he kn-".
"Just now...You wondered... "How does he know me?" ... didn't you?"
The Silhouette's voice echoed again, steady and unshaken,
"It matters little how I know you... the question you should be asking is... "Why am I here?". "
Dexter wiped off the sweat bead with his thumb. He stood there for a while, his arms folded across the chest, eyes narrowed, weighing the voice against fragments of his past memories. The silhouette did not move, its presence steady, waiting in anticipation.
"No good..."
Dexter stared at the silhouette still looming over the platform,
"Who are you... and why am I here?"
Dexter demanded, clenching his fists. The intensity of his gaze could burn a hole into the silhouette.
"I am but a mentor for whoever finds themselves drawn into this place. As for you being here... Only time itself can answer."
Dexter's teeth sank into his lip, his brows pressed so tight they looked ready to break.
"Just tell me your name already!"
"Ah!... What's this?" The silhouette grew a bit smaller.
"I thought you were the quiet type, the way you held yourself together up until now... Well, it was wrong of me to not introduce myself first."
The silhouette grew bigger in size until Dexter could see a man in a black robe with gold collar and handcuffs. His face hidden under the hood.
"I am called Drei Schoper, that name is... enough for now. Now that introductions are out of the way, let's talk about your purpose of being here."
"Drei Schoper... that's one weird name. What purpose could he be talking about?", Dexter thought.
"It's rude, you know... to call their names weird the first time you meet someone"
Dexter flinched and looked at Drei Schoper, wondering how he read his mind.
"I can hear your inner voice from outside this cage so please be careful about your thoughts."
Dexter lowered his gaze, he felt a weight as heavy as an ocean above him, unable to move or speak.
"As for your purpose... you were dragged in here for an awakening."
"Awakening you say? ... You sure love your riddles, huh? But I woke up just now, I have never been more awake than now."
Dexter said, with his smile twitching and eyes narrowed, sliding in his snide remark.
"Awakening isn't about sleep. It's about seeing what was always there — the faces closest to you, the truths you chose to look away from."
Drei Schoper sounded serious as the last few words left his mouth.
"Faces closest to me... I might have heard wrong but there aren't really many people who fit that criteria."
Dexter said, his voice trembling as he fought back the bitter memories of his solitude.
"Exactly..."
Drei Schoper said in a feeble low voice.
"I will grant you one last chance, if you still fail to recognize the truth or turn your back to it, I will have to use the trial to make you realize."
Something snapped inside Dexter; he felt a boiling rage inside his stomach.
"I HAVEN'T TURNED MY BACK AWAY FROM ANYTHING."
Dexter shouted, throwing away any regard for caution, risking his safety in the unknown dimension.
"AND WHAT IS THIS TRUTH YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT?!"
Dexter, out of breath, waited for a response. His eyes glaring at Drei Schoper.
Drei Schoper's hood tilted ever so slightly as he pointed his hand at Dexter.
Suddenly Dexter felt a throb in his skull, the next throb more intense than the last.
"Is this it? So now you won't even answer, huh?"
Dexter thought, in an attempt to communicate with Drei Schoper without his voice.
"The past cannot be hidden. Whether by choice or by force"
Drei Schoper's voice muffled as Dexter's knees buckled and dizziness overtook him, the air spinning like a whirlpool dragging him under.
"May fortune favor you in finding the truth buried within your own beginning"
Dexter couldn't comprehend what Drei Schoper was saying, all he could hear was an echo.
The world spun—faster with each passing second— until it went completely dark. Then the rain greeted him, pulling him into another time.
21 August, year 2106, on a rainy day at noon, a boy is born to a normal family of three adding another member to the family.
The family was well off, nothing out of the ordinary nor too shabby, in the city of Elysia.
The family was thinking of a name for the newborn.
The family elder remarked that the name Dexter would fit the little boy since he was rather quiet and didn't cry as much or as easily as other babies, the family agreed and thus the boy was named Dexter.
7 years passed, year 2113. Dexter had grown into a little boy who many would label as "SHY".
Innocent and meek, he stood in stark contrast with his "devilish" elder brother, Silas.
Just a year older, Silas never missed a chance to test a fresh prank on Dexter.
Dexter would get quietly irritated but never lashed out.
Over time, Silas lost interest, his pranks fading when he realized how little reaction Dexter gave.
At school, Dexter drifted through days in a haze.
The world often blurred for him during lessons, as classroom chatter dampened into a distant hum.
His classmates noticed. They whispered, called him "weird," even a "bum".
Yet Dexter never really heard those words.
He didn't know how to listen, let alone respond.
One day, while out grocery shopping with his mother, they paused at the public crossroad bench, perhaps to rest.
A few minutes passed.
Dexter was confused as to why they were sitting in the middle of nowhere.
He finally asked away to which his mother, without looking at him, eventually explained that when she grew tired or restless, she would sit and watch the people and the world around her.
It helped her recover her energy, she said— and sometimes she even learned something new.
Dexter soon began to imitate this small habit of his mother; he found it curious, almost comforting, how simply watching people could feel like enough.
But his classmates thought otherwise.
To them, he was still that clueless and bland boy.
Two years passed in what looked like solitude.
He had friends in name only, but no one sought him out unless they needed something.
In the year 2115, Dexter and his family had to shift to a new city, due to his father's job, and so, Dexter said "Goodbye" to his "Friends" and left for a new life.