Sezel's eyes darted, confusion storming his mind. He was restrained on a tallic bed. The roof—no, everything around him—was new, unfamiliar. But the most terrifying were the countless rifles aid at him, their barrels glinting under harsh fluorescent light.
'What is going on? Where am I?' His mind spiraled, sweat stinging the healed wound on his chest, a scar where the Black Knight's blade had pierced.
The n in a different army uniform surrounded him, ard with guns.
'What is this? Who are they?'
He pushed against the restraints, muscles burning, but they held firm, denying him even the dignity of sitting upright.
He struggled, stirring, pinned down to a bed.
"VGGFF!@@YY," a soldier barked, his voice laced with fury, his foreign tongue incomprehensible.
Sezel gulped hard as realization clawed. He was back in the real world, no longer in the Spirit Realm's black atmosphere, but restrained in a foreign land. That was not the best way to return back, but the sheer joy of seeing humans, of the truth that he was back, made his eyes water—tears of happiness.
But it was not the best ti to be sentintal. The soldiers' stances softened, their eyes narrowing as if questioning his humanity.
"SHHYV@@^^#," another soldier, taller, his face slick with sweat, bellowed, anger masking fear.
'Shit, out of all ways I had to be transported to a foreign country.'
On other thought, it was not the worst as well. At least he was in a human settlent, not drowning between so ocean with no one to help him far and wide. That too was possible, considering the very good luck Sezel had.
That was not the case, so Sezel dismissed the thought and looked around once again, clearing his mind. 'So, what is this place? Looks like so army confinent.'
He raised his head, voice hoarse but steady. "I'm human," he declared, each word deliberate, hoping to bridge the language gap.
But instead of the reaction he expected, the reality turned out much crueler. The taller man raised his arm, his face twisting in alarm. Rifles cocked in unison, their tallic clicks filling the silence in the confined space. Sezel's heart lurched.
'Ok, this is bad. Maybe I should just stay silent.'
No one moved. The room fell into a dangerous silence, the guns still locked on the boy, restrained on the bed. Suddenly, the door clicked and then closed again. Sounds of footsteps echoed through the silence.
Sezel turned to see who it was, very much interested in finding the identity of the new person that had entered to see the alien.
A man erged, weaving carefully through the soldiers, his movents almost comical in their precision, as if avoiding invisible threads. His brown hair, thin as silk, fell to his shoulders, swaying with each step. Unlike the soldiers' uniforms, he wore a modern, oversized T-shirt and trousers, making him seem the odd one out in the sea of identical fishes. Sunglasses perched on his nose, glinting under the lights.
Finally, he glanced at Sezel, their gaze eting through his sunglasses. He stopped, pulling his sunglasses down a little and locked his black eyes on Sezel, making a confused expression.
He stepped forward.
"BUSG^^%G," the tall soldier barked, his voice trembling, his face twisted in sothing Sezel couldn't identify—fear? Why would they fear a boy as frail as him? Did he look like a monster? But to his eyes, his body was fine. Just if you exclude a little miracle of his left hand regrowing and the wound in his chest closing on its own, he was a perfectly normal human.
The odd man replied to him in their language, as if trying to assure the other man of sothing. He resud his approach, stopping beside Sezel's bed, his figure casting a shadow that dimd the harsh light.
Sezel looked at the man with a new question in his mind, 'What will he do with now?'
Shattering Sezel's every expectation, the man offered him a smile—a warm one. Then he sat beside him on the bed.
"Hello there," he spoke, his voice clear in Sezel's language.
This was the first ti Sezel was happy hearing a human talk—he could understand the man. A smile erupted on his tired face. He collected his thoughts, trying to speak a simple hello, but he stumbled upon his own words in excitent.
"H..he.llo."
Finally uttering the words—however they might be—he sighed.
The man gave him a simple nod, looking up at the ceiling for a second, then he again turned to Sezel and asked slowly, "Who are you?" each word asured.
Sezel tried his best to give a quick response, "I am ..." but he stopped, his mind spiraling into chaos. Who was he? Sezel himself didn't know the answer to that question.
The excitent on his face died down, turning into a thoughtful trance. After pondering a little, he replied in a grim voice as if disappointed by the answer himself, "I am just an orphan, a nobody." The truth stung, his life a fleeting shadow in a world that never cared.
The man's expression softened at the answer. He patted Sezel softly, offering a kind smile, then turning towards the other soldiers, he declared sothing in their language. Their expressions were a spectacle—especially the taller man.
The man rose, heading for the door, but paused, his gaze lingering on Sezel. In a soft whisper, he said, "I'll be waiting for you." The words carried a weight. The door clicked shut, leaving Sezel in the silence and confusion.
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