Fief 1 - Alan 1

Fief
Alan 1

-VB-

Sleep.

Sleep was a good thing. It rejuvenated the mind, helped maintain stress (if moderated), and passed the night hours. Nightmares sometimes made sleep rough, but sleep in general was a good thing.

But what happened to someone when they believed that it wasn’t?

Sleep for the elderly can mean something more than daily rejuvenation. An elderly can go to sleep … and never wake up again. 

That’s what happened to him.

He slept.

And then he died. 

At least, that’s what he was sure of. He  went to sleep not as an old man but a mature man with more than half of his life still in front of him. 

He knew(?) he died because he just did…?

Alan resisted the urge to groan in pain - maybe he wasn’t dead - as he slowly pushed himself up. Surrounded by a calm shallow water, he looked around cautiously. A thick fog covered the place, and he could not see far out into the distance. Concerning. 

He stayed still and silent, focusing on any and all noise that might reach him.

Only his heartbeat thumped in his ears. 

It was too calm.

Where was he?

“What brings a [Human] here?” 

Jolting in surprise, he spun around in place, splashing the waters with his feet as he moved away from the voice. 

Standing where nothing had mere seconds ago, a multi-armed crystalline entity floated inches above the shallow water.

“W-Who are you?” Alan asked in shock at the sight of such a being. He took another step back in surprise.

“... [Human]s introduce themselves before asking, do they not?”

Feeling familiar with what was being asked of him, Alan latched onto the notion. “Y-yes. I … am Alan,” he said after a moment of hesitation; he wasn’t sure if telling his name to this floating crystal was a good idea.

“It is a pleasant surprise to meet you in the [Shardspace], Alan. I am [Abaddon], a member of the [!T@#T@] species.”

Alan winced when the name of the species was called out, because it sounded like multiple cascading avalanches and rockslides combined with shattering of glass and flesh.

“I do not know how I am here. Can you help me … return to Earth?”

Its body shifted, rotating on horizontal axis in multiple directions of its crystalline segments. “Analysis of [Alan] provides little to no information on origin planet. Interdimensional radiation is not present. [Alan] is not host to a Shard of my species. You do not know how you arrived?”

Alan was close to tears as he shook his head no. All he heard from the creature was of how less and less likely he would return home.

“... A variation of Human Earth is nearby. I can drop you off there, if you wish, but I cannot help you with human social structures. I actually came to offer a few of your species the opportunity to work alongside me, but I suppose you do not. You are too distressed right now to consider such an offer. 

“T-That’s fine,” Alan replied. “It’s the best you can do, right?”

It nodded. “Very well, then-” It stopped. “This is unfortunate. I have been discovered by more predatory members of my species.”

“Predatory…?”

“They cannibalize others for their own use. Much like flesh cannibalism, but much more efficient with logical reasoning behind it.” It gave me its full attention. “I must focus completely on evasive maneuvers. I cannot help you beyond this point unless you wish to be ejected with a Shard to survive on your own. Otherwise, you will be stuck with me in my fate. Decide. Now.”

The entire world shook, and the calm shallow water jittered.

“I’ve been hit. Decide. NOW.”

Words blurted out of Alan’s mouth, though he didn’t know exactly what he said. 

“Very well. Hold on tigh-”

CRACK

-VB-

When Alan woke up again, he was definitely still alive. But something had changed about him. There was a dumpster in front of him, but it looked so small compared to what they should be. He reached forward to push up again (he’s been doing that repeatedly, lately) only to stop when the limb he reached out with was a thick, tree trunk like brick red arm. He slowly pulled back and the arm did so.

It didn’t take long for him to see that he was truly no longer who he was before. He wasn’t human, even if he had the humanoid shape. 

He was also naked.

Feeling rather flustered by this turn of events (what happened and where was he?), he tried to look for something… and found a rather conveniently torn shower curtain. It wasn’t transparent, which was good enough for him. He hurriedly wrapped it around his waist. 

Now that his modesty was taken care, Alan began to think again.

Who was he?

He was Alan… but anything else?

… No.

He took a deep breath and let out a breath very slowly. “This is not good,” I mumbled as I looked around again. 

It was nighttime, and the moon was out brightly tonight. 

He stumbled forward into the world, but his mind was spinning elaborate tales of a grimdark future and a god that needed slaying. 

He walked in the streets, looking for some kind of help for his situation, but his mind was whispering to him about his status as a “Case 53” and how roughly they were treated.

But the Parahuman Response Team, a name his mind provided, should be able to help him, right?

He looked around and around… and frowned. 

Why did everything seem so out of date? Like the buildings were all square and concrete. It should have more architectural differences because he was in the 2011’s, right?

Then he stopped when he saw a newspaper stand. The owner saw him and shrieked, running away. 

Alan grumbled. “Disingenuous, xenophobic fucker,” he grumbled and then stopped himself in surprise when his voice turned out to be really deep when he spoke above whispering. “A little disturbing, but nothing terrible, right?” 

Then he reached the newspaper stand, which was as tall as he was, leaned down to reach, and took a single sheet of newspaper and held it up to his face. His eyes widened in horror. 

October 15, 1987.

‘I’m two and a half decades earlier than when I am supposed to be…?’ Alan thought in distress. ‘None of the memories I have of this world will work then!’ 

And then he realized something.

‘If my memories are even the truth of the future… and that it accounts for me… but if it didn’t, then wouldn’t my action - making that newspaper stand man run in fear of me - result in a different future?’

His head hurt. 

‘Goddamnit.’

He quickly ran away, clutching the tiny newspaper in his hands while trying to look for somewhere to hide while he thought things over.

But one thing was for certain.

He was fucked.

-VB-

Worm CYOA v.5 Gimel 

Revealed choices so far...

Golden Morning (Chapter 1)
Case 53 (Chapter 1: tall, brick red skin, ?)
Abaddon

Gift: Metaknowledge
Memory Death
Drop-In
Humble Beginnings