It was cold, endless, and suffocating. A void with no beginning, no end.... just silence.
Then came the pain. Like a thousand needles burrowing into his flesh, the agony tore through him. His lungs burned. His bones ached. His soul screamed. And then.... he breathed.
A violent gasp rippled through the still air as his eyes flew open. Light flooded his vision, unfamiliar and blinding. The scent of incense and blood danced in the room like ghosts unwilling to leave. He lay beneath heavy silk sheets, soaked with sweat. His fingers trembled as they gripped the edge of the bedding. His body was foreign. Lithe and fragile. Noble, yet weakened. This wasn't his body.
Memories flooded in, fragmented and splintered, unfamiliar, not his own. The face of a weeping empress, the sounds of servants whispering in corners, the cold finality of a golden coffin. And then... death. The prince had died.. He had died.
"I'm alive…?" he muttered, voice hoarse, unfamiliar. A mirror sat nearby. When he forced himself to look, he saw the face of a young man, too delicate, too pampered, staring back with burdened eyes. No. Not young man. Crown Prince.
The memories sharpened like shattered glass. The late Emperor was assassinated. The court in mourning. The empire on edge. And now… him, thrust into the heart of this vicious storm, like a nightmare he could never wake from. Reborn into the body of a man marked for power, surrounded by enemies.
Servants burst in, startled by the sound of his awakening.
"Your Highness! You're awake!"
He said nothing.
How could he? He had just awakened in a dead man's skin, a stranger's palace, and a world ruled by blades and shadows. But one thing was clear, he wasn't just a soul lost in the wrong body. After the death of his father, the Emperor, with no other heirs to contend with him. He was the Emperor now. And may Heaven help those who dared try to snuff his life out again.
"Leave"
His voice was coarse and ragged, that one singular word left his mouth in a manner reminiscent of a corpse clawing its way out of its grave, dry, hollow, and cold enough to make the air shiver. This one word evoked silence throughout his chambers.
The servant was dazed, but having been trained since he was a child, answered clearly, and thoroughly, without a hint of shakiness or fear.
"Your Royal Highness, you have just recently woken up from your week-long coma,"
The servant said with concern, bowing deeply. His voice was soft but laced with urgency.
"You mustn't exert yourself so soon. You are still weak and in dire need of nutrients."
The prince's eyes flickered, his once imposing figure now fragile, slumped upon the grand, ornate bed, the centerpiece of his private chamber. His limbs felt like they no longer belonged to him, his body thin, almost gaunt from neglect.
He ignored the servant's gentle words, trying to sit upright. His throat was dry, and his breath was shallow. The hunger gnawed at him, but more than that, it was the frustration, the feeling of being helpless, that made his blood boil.
"I need no more rest."
He muttered hoarsely, though his voice was cracked from dormancy. His eyes narrowed, dismissing the concern for his apparent weakness, though deep down, he knew he couldn't afford to be so defiant.
"What use is rest when the court and the empire need me now?"
The servant hesitated, looking at him with a mixture of pity and fear. He had seen the Crown Prince as a meek and weak-willed man, even though he was a prince, he never dared to even raise his voice around his servants, but this... this was someone else entirely, as if another soul had taken over his body.
"Your Highness, please, allow me to bring you sustenance first."
He insisted, his voice clear.
"I shall ask the physicians to prepare a broth rich in nutrients, one that will help restore your strength. You will need it to manage the court."
Then, with an almost imperceptible nod, he let out a frustrated sigh, his voice thick with reluctance. "Very well. But this will not delay me. For the court is waiting."
With a swift and courteous bow, the servant quickly left the prince's chambers. Once again, shifting the room into one of pure deafening silence.
"He's finally gone..... I need some time to recollect my thoughts."
He had two sets of memories, one as a student, another as a prince....
Everything faded to black.
"Nate, we're headed to the pier today. wanna go with us?"
A familiar face asked. It was his good friend Will, a tall fellow, who had a penchant for borrowing money and forgetting to pay it back.
"Sure, why not?"
He had responded as he always would, casually, without a care in the world.
He was still a student, unburdened by the weight of responsibility, perhaps other than school work, the monthly exams, and household chores, he was free, free to be a child, free to ignore the mold that society wants everyone to fit in.
"who else is going?"
"me, you, and Dan"
"What about Fids? Is he going?"
"Nah, his little brothers remember? ever since his older brother left for college, he's the one who has to take care of them now."
"Oh right, I forgot."
"dumbass, dementia, schizo"
"man, fuck you"
"fuck you too"
They bantered as they always did, although to outsiders it may seem like they have a bad relationship, constantly hurling insults at each other. For them, it was a normal afternoon; hell, it was even tamer than normal.
.....
One could see a vast blue sea, an undulating landscape that stretches as far as the eye can see, a shimmering, cerulean expanse, its waves crashing rhythmically.
The sky above, a canvas of blues and whites, perfectly mirrored in the water, creating a seamless blend of land and sea.
The air, a salty, invigorating breeze.
At the pier's edge, three boys sat, one on the bench, two on the pillars, 1 meter away from the main platform. How they got on there, only God knows.
"Yo Nathan, stand up, man, you said last time you were gonna stand up, but you're just sitting there."
Dan said in a mocking tone, he was the first person to try and even get on the pillars. After months of experience, his confidence grew from just sitting to standing, he even played the guitar while on that pillar once.
"Man, it's moving a lot, the tides are strong, and it's shaking a lot."
Nathan said he made a good argument, the waves were strong, and the pillar was only large enough to fit one of his feet at most; he wasn't as athletic as Dan, either, so there wasn't as much room for error.
"excuses, excuses, excuses, why can I stand up and you can't huh?"
Dan replied, still in that same mocking tone, he clearly understood how hard it would be for Nathan to stand up with the current state of the ocean, but he just liked teasing him about it.
"Yeah Nate, stand up, man, you can do it."
said Will, their conversation amused him, he too wanted to see if Nathan could stand up on the pillars.
"Man shut up, you're too afraid to even get on the pillars."
Harsh but true though, the three of them had frequented this pier, it had become their new hangout spot after school, many times Dan had tried to convince them to get on the pillars, both thought it was a bad idea, yet it was only Nathan that relented, Will was resolute in staying right where he was on stable ground.
Unable to make a counterargument, he stayed quiet and checked his phone
"guys, its almost 5:30 I have to go home."
"It's already 5:30? Dan, do you wanna go walk Will home?"
Nathan said he was too afraid to stand up on the pillars, so when the perfect excuse presented itself, he took that chance immediately.
"Sure, why not?"
Replied Dan, he had a suspicion that Nathan just wanted an excuse to not stand on the pillar, but since he's a good friend, he didn't want to embarrass Nathan, so he just stayed quiet.
All three of them left together, talking as they walked. as they entered the main road, the unthinkable happened.
Whether it was just bad luck, fate, or divine intervention, this was happening, and there was nothing the three of them could do to stop it.
A loud horn blared, and tire-screaming noises filled the street. A man inside the truck desperately praying for a miracle, that he wouldn't have to take a life today. The truck barreled forward, its weight a mountain on wheels. The driver slammed the pedal
HSSSSHHHH! The air brakes hissed violently... then sputtered. No resistance. No bite. Only silence and the screaming rush of momentum as steel refused to stop. A semi-truck going at the speed of 80km an hour was heading right forthem.
"watch out!!!!"
Nathan screamed as he pushed Will and Dan away, successfully pushing them out of harm's way... That was the last thing he saw before everything went...
Dark.....