A blinding flash exploded before Klaus's eyes. He flinched, squeezing them shut as sharp pain and confusion struck at once. His head spun. Nausea surged through him. His legs gave out, his body refusing to obey, and he collapsed — not onto the floor of his bedchamber, where he had stood only moments ago, but onto something hard and uneven. Stone. Cold. Completely unfamiliar.
He forced his eyes open.
Darkness. A cool breeze brushed his face.
Outside?
How?
A tight, foreign sensation gripped his chest, throwing his breathing into disarray. He tried to rise, but misjudged his strength. His legs buckled again.
"What the hell happened?" he rasped, almost desperate.
No answer.
Accepting that he couldn't stand yet, Klaus pulled his hands away from the rough ground and sat back, covering his face.
He hadn't felt helpless in years.
He was the heir to the throne. This was unacceptable.
Remaining still, he focused on steadying his breath until the nausea slowly receded. Then, behind him, came a long metallic roar — accompanied by a burst of harsh white light.
His survival instincts snapped into place.
Klaus turned sharply toward the sound and nearly groaned as another wave of dizziness hit him. A monstrous shape with blazing eyes hurtled in his direction at terrifying speed, emitting a shrill, unnatural cry — not quite a roar, not quite a scream.
He wouldn't be able to dodge.
His hand flew to his belt.
Empty.
His weapon lay on his bed. Only minutes earlier he had been preparing to sleep when soldiers from his father's army had smashed through his chamber doors. The last thing he remembered was the whistle of steel by his ear — certain death — and then the blinding flash.
Beheaded in his own room… or devoured here by some unknown beast.
Which fate was worse?
Where was he?
His life flickered through his mind in fragments.
He had never been unarmed. Never.
The creature stopped abruptly, releasing a strange growl and fixing him with its blazing eyes. Klaus's body locked. Drawing breath required immense effort.
Run.
Unarmed. Alone. In an unfamiliar place.
Run?
No.
He did not flee battle.
Then something even more absurd occurred.
The creature's torso opened.
And a man stepped out.
Klaus stared in disbelief. The gray-haired stranger looked terrified, shouting something in a language Klaus did not recognize.
Shock lingered, but reason began to reassert itself.
Distrust came easily to him.
His muscles tensed, ready to strike if necessary. The man was clearly no warrior. Dull blue eyes, wide with fear. A round scar marked his cheekbone.
Torture? A former noble seeking revenge on the royal family?
Still speaking rapidly, the man crouched beside him. The unfamiliar words dragged Klaus from his haze. He reached out and pressed two fingers to the spot between the man's brows, releasing a faint surge of electricity.
Control. Power.
The sensation steadied him.
It lasted only a heartbeat. The man blinked in confusion, apparently unaware anything had happened.
"I'm sorry, young man! I thought I stopped in time. Did I hit you?"
The words suddenly made sense.
But the small use of magic drained Klaus more than it should have. It felt as though something inside him had been siphoned away. Weakness crashed down, replacing the brief reassurance of power.
He fought to remain conscious.
Darkness swallowed him.
He awoke in a different place entirely.
"What the hell…"
Fear returned — sharp and unwelcome. Had he been captured? What would come next? Interrogation? Execution?
First a mechanical beast. Now a blindingly white room that smelled sharply of chemicals. At least the bed beneath him was soft.
A young woman entered, dressed in strange green garments — trousers, no less.
Klaus understood one thing immediately: he was not merely outside his city.
He was not even in his country.
He could not afford panic.
"Excuse me," he said in the language he had just forced himself to comprehend.
"You're awake? How are you feeling?"
"Where am I?"
"You're in the city hospital. A man brought you in last night — said he hit you on the highway outside town. I'll call the doctor."
She spoke quickly and disappeared before he could respond.
Hospital.
Infirmary.
He had never seen one so bright, so sterile, so filled with unknown devices.
If you do not understand the situation, adapt.
His teacher's voice echoed in his mind.
Very well.
He would adapt.
This land was astonishing. Its inventions alone were worth studying. If he remained here long enough, he could learn its systems — perhaps even bring them back to his homeland.
Perhaps he could change the cruelty of that world.
Perhaps people did not have to live in fear.
Perhaps he could become the ruler who truly turned the world upside down.
The people here seemed at ease. They walked unguarded. No visible weapons. No tension in their movements.
A faint ache stirred in his chest.
Not fear.
Envy.
Envy of their easy smiles.
Of the unseen strength that protected them.
Of air untainted by blood, fear, and suffering.