Chapter 2 — Breathing in a World That Isn't Mine
Breathing hurt.
Not the sharp, tearing pain Elias expected after being shot.
This was different. This was small. Tight. Like his lungs were learning what air was for the first time.
He coughed.
Liquid spilled from his mouth, warm and bitter. His chest rose again, slower this time, then fell. Each breath felt heavy, like he was pulling it through thick cloth.
Sound came next.
A soft crackling. Like wood burning.
A low, steady hum beneath it.
And… a voice.
"—he's breathing."
The words were strange. Clear, but not in any language Elias recognized.
And yet… he understood them perfectly.
His eyelids fluttered.
Light pressed against them—not harsh, not blinding. Gentle. Warm. Like sunlight filtered through cloth.
Elias forced his eyes open.
The world tilted.
For a moment, all he saw was blur. Shapes without edges. Colors bleeding into each other.
Then the blur settled.
A ceiling made of wood came into focus above him. Dark beams crossed it in neat lines. Between them, pale panels reflected firelight. Shadows danced softly, stretching and shrinking with each flicker.
This wasn't a tunnel.
This wasn't the city.
His heart kicked hard against his ribs.
He tried to sit up.
Pain flared along his side, sharp and immediate. Elias gasped and fell back, breath rushing out of him in a broken sound.
"Easy," a woman said quickly.
A shape moved into his vision.
She was older. Late thirties, maybe early forties. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid, dark strands streaked with gray. Her face was lined, not with age, but with worry. Strong hands pressed lightly against his shoulders, firm but careful.
Her eyes—brown and warm—searched his face.
"Don't move," she said. "You lost a lot of blood."
Blood.
Elias swallowed.
He tried to speak. His throat felt dry, raw.
"Where…?" His voice came out hoarse. Weak.
The woman let out a breath that sounded like relief.
"He's awake," she said, turning her head. "He's awake."
Footsteps hurried closer.
Another figure stepped into view.
A man this time. Tall. Broad shoulders. He moved with the quiet confidence of someone used to physical work. His hair was dark like Elias's, cut short. His jaw was rough with stubble.
His eyes widened when he saw Elias awake.
"Thank the stars," the man said softly.
Stars?
Elias's gaze flicked past him.
The room was small but solid. Wooden walls, smooth and well-kept. A stone hearth burned on the far side, fire crackling low and steady. The smell of herbs and smoke filled the air.
There was no hum of generators.
No buzz of neon.
No distant sirens.
Just warmth.
Just quiet.
Just… real.
Elias's chest tightened.
This wasn't a dream. He knew what dreams felt like. This was too heavy. Too detailed. Pain didn't feel like this in dreams.
The woman noticed his eyes moving, the way they took in the room. Her expression softened.
"You're safe," she said gently. "You collapsed on the road. We found you just outside the village."
Village.
The word hit him harder than the pain.
Elias closed his eyes.
The last thing he remembered was a gunshot. The tunnel. The System authorizing termination.
He should be dead.
He was very sure of that.
And yet…
"Elias."
The sound of his name made his eyes snap open.
The man was looking at him now, face tense.
"You scared us," the man said. "You didn't wake up for two days."
Two days.
Elias stared at him.
"You… know my name?" he asked.
The man blinked, then frowned slightly.
"Of course I do," he said slowly. "I'm your father."
The word landed like a blow.
Father.
Elias's mind went blank.
His father had died when he was twelve. A factory accident. Cheap safety standards. Cheaper apologies.
This man wasn't him.
And yet…
The resemblance was there.
The same dark hair. The same eye shape. The same broad frame.
A version of himself, older and steadier.
Elias's hands trembled under the blanket.
"Don't push him," the woman said softly. She looked at Elias again, brushing his hair back with careful fingers. "You took a hard hit. It's normal to be confused."
She smiled, and something twisted painfully in Elias's chest.
"Welcome back, Elias," she said. "I'm your mother."
Mother.
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Tears burned behind his eyes, sudden and unwelcome. He turned his head slightly, staring at the fire instead.
A normal life.
A family.
The thought from the darkness echoed back to him, cruel and sharp.
Had this world heard him?
Or was it mocking him?
The room fell quiet.
The fire popped softly.
Elias breathed. In. Out. Slow.
The pain in his side throbbed in time with his heartbeat, grounding him. This was real.
If this was a lie, it was the most detailed one he'd ever seen.
"Rest," his mother said after a moment. "We'll talk later."
She adjusted the blanket, careful around his wound.
As she moved, Elias noticed something odd.
A faint glow traced along the cloth near her fingers. Soft. Greenish. Like light seen through leaves.
It faded when she pulled her hand away.
His eyes narrowed.
"—what was that?" he asked quietly.
His parents exchanged a glance.
His father smiled, small and tired.
"Magic," he said. "You'll learn more about it when you're stronger."
Magic.
Elias closed his eyes again.
Of course.
He woke again to voices.
Not close this time. Further away.
"…he's lucky," someone was saying. A younger voice. Female. Soft, but firm. "If the bleeding hadn't stopped when it did—"
"Thank you," his mother replied. "We don't have much, but—"
"There's no need," the younger voice said. "Just… let him rest."
Elias opened his eyes.
The room was dimmer now. The fire burned low. Shadows stretched long across the walls.
A girl stood near the hearth.
She was young. Seventeen, maybe. Slender, but not fragile. She wore a simple dress in soft earth tones, sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her dark hair was tied back loosely, a few strands escaping to frame her face.
She turned as he stirred.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Her eyes were dark brown, warm and alert. There was concern there. And relief. And something else Elias couldn't name.
She smiled.
It wasn't forced. It wasn't shy.
It was natural. Familiar.
"Oh," she said softly. "You're awake."
Her voice was gentle, but it carried easily in the quiet room.
Elias swallowed.
"Yeah," he said. "I think so."
She stepped closer, boots soft against the floor. As she moved, Elias noticed how she carried herself—comfortable in the space, like she belonged here.
She did.
"I'm Liora," she said. "I live next door."
Liora.
The name settled into him without resistance. Like it had always been there.
She glanced at his side, brow creasing slightly.
"You shouldn't talk much," she said. "But… I'm glad you're okay."
Something in her tone made his chest ache.
"How long…?" he started.
"Two days," she answered immediately. "You scared everyone."
Her lips pressed together, then curved again.
"Mostly me."
Elias let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh.
"Sorry."
She shook her head.
"Don't be."
Silence stretched between them.
Not awkward.
Comfortable.
Elias became aware of small details. The way the firelight caught in her hair. The faint scent of herbs on her clothes. The soft hum he'd noticed earlier—it was still there, faint but steady, like the world itself was breathing.
"This place," he said quietly. "What is it?"
Liora tilted her head slightly.
"Our home," she said. "Verdan."
Verdan.
The word echoed strangely.
A transparent panel flickered into existence at the edge of Elias's vision.
He stiffened.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
His heart slammed against his ribs.
Not here.
Not again.
The panel shifted, lines of text forming slowly.
[WORLD IDENTIFIED: VEARTH]
[LANGUAGE SYNCHRONIZATION: COMPLETE]
[STATUS: STABLE]
Liora frowned.
"You look pale," she said. "Are you in pain?"
Elias shook his head, barely.
"No," he lied. "Just… tired."
The System pulsed faintly.
It felt different.
Quieter.
Not demanding. Not urgent.
Observing.
Elias focused on his breathing, forcing his body to stay still.
Liora studied him for a moment longer, then nodded.
"I'll let you rest," she said. "I'll come back later."
She hesitated at the door.
Then, softly, "I'm really glad you're alive, Elias."
The door closed behind her.
Elias stared at the ceiling again.
A village.
A family.
Magic.
A System that followed him across worlds.
Whatever this was…
It wasn't an escape.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew it.
The fire crackled.
The System remained silent.
For now.
Elias didn't know what this world wanted from him.
But something had already decided he was not done yet.