Sezel stared at the door, its cold metal surface mocking his confusion. The man in sunglasses' parting words "I'll be waiting for you"—lingered like a riddle.
'Is he a good guy or is he planning on killing me?'
Sezel's questions were answered by freedom. With hesitant glances, the soldiers unfastened his shackles. The metal cuffs fell away, clanging against the bedframe.
Sezel sat up, rubbing his wrists, his gaze darting to his left arm—once severed, now whole.
The tall soldier, face etched with unease, met his eyes with a grimace, as if Sezel were a beast unshackled. Sezel swung his legs off the bed, feet dangling above the floor, too short to reach the floor.
He looked around, observing the room more freely now. The room was a stark cage of atlas-white walls, ceiling jeweled with four lights, each one directed at the metallic bed situated at the center.
"What is this place?" Sez wondered, feeling the absence of knowledge at these times.
He spared a glance to the armed men. The soldiers still looked at him with a twisted expression, eyes sharp with disgust. It was not fear, he realized.
Sezel sighed, 'I am the alien here.'
A soldier tossed him fresh clothes—a plain shirt and trousers, pristine compared to the rags he wore. Two others, faces pale with unease, gestured for him to follow. They led him down a corridor, their boots clicking on polished floors, their silence a wall thicker than the language barrier.
Sezel had many questions he wanted to ask, and more than that, he wanted to show them that he was also human.
They reached a door after crossing the corridor. It was the bathroom. The bathroom door swung open, and Sezel froze, mouth agape.
'Damn, is this a bathroom?'
Sezel had only seen the broken, sludgy bathrooms of the slum. Not in his entire lifetime did he think that he would see a bathroom like the one he was witnessing right now.
The small room was well cleaned, the floor was covered with white tiles glinting in the light. It had two separate rooms, one for waste, another for bathing, with a showerhead promising hot water. Though the bathroom was the most basic of what most people have at their home, it was no small thing for Sezel.
The two soldiers gave each other a confused gaze, looking at the expression Sez wore, both thinking the same thing—Why is this brat so happy about a bathroom?
It wasn't anything special after all, but they wouldn't know.
One of the soldiers twitched his lips and gestured the other one to follow. They left Sez alone at the bathroom complex.
He let the warm water cascade over him. The hot stream washed away the black pond's taint, the blood of beasts, and his own wounds. He scrubbed, relief flooding his battered body.
Sezel wondered how much he smelled, and out of curiosity, he sniffed his discarded rags—a mistake he wouldn't dare do again. The stench, a mix of ichor and decay, nearly knocked him out.
'Damn, it must be because of that black water.' he cussed, scrubbing his body clean with hot water.
After the refreshing bath, his body felt so in relief. Clean at last, he stepped out, steam curling around him.
In the corner of the bathroom, the mirror caught his eye—a wide, polished surface reflecting something dangerous. His breath hitched, a shriek nearly escaping as he stumbled backward, heart pounding. Who… who is that? The reflection mimicked his every move—raising a hand, tilting his head.
He gulped hard and walked closer to the mirror, leaning forward onto the platform.
"Is that me?" he whispered.
He examined his face by moving it around, "White hair? Red eyes? How?"
The image in the mirror showcased a little young man. His damp white hair clung to his face, streaming down to his shoulders, and the red pupils burned like embers, alien in their intensity.
A terrifying look indeed. No wonder the soldiers were afraid. Even Sezel himself was terrified. For all he could remember, he looked like any other normal human—raven hair and black eyes. But there was no denying it. The reflection was indeed him. The scar on his chest said it was all true.
He traced the scar. It was small yet distinct. "That's where the damn beast stabbed me."
Sezel remembered something else and instantly turned to his left—his left hand. There was a mark just below his shoulder from where the arm was cut off, and now it had grown back.
'It was not a dream.' he pondered, narrowing his eyes. How did his injuries heal on their own? Moreover, how did his severed arm grow back? 'What kind of miracle is this?'
The first thing Sez could think of was that it was the effect of his awakening. Yeah, he was supposed to awaken—or maybe not. He did feel a new kind of strength flowing in his body, but that could be because of proper rest and the warm bath.
And he didn't know how to confirm his awakening, though he faintly remembered that he used spirit energy in the spirit realm. It was because of the mysterious girl.
Was it her doing? That girl in the pond—who was she? Why help a nobody like me?
Sezel looked at the mirror, a question hung heavy in his mind. 'I'm still human… aren't I?'