He awakens in a field. It's not a place he's seen before, or even dreamed of before. He wonders how... why he got here, why his memories don't quite seem to match up with the location...
The last thing he remembers is... his powers draining. The strain between his body and the Promare he was anchored to. Strapped into a machine. His body disintegrating, turning into ashes with the force of it all. Trying desperately to stay afloat, alive. Galo... where was Galo?
Kray.
Rage fills him, explosive. Hot and boiling over. He stands on his four, trembling with it. Realizing... noticing then, that. He was standing on more legs than usual. Looking down at his body, finding fur. Paws. A tail. He checks over every inch of himself that he could, all dark fur, fur that caught the sunlight in such an odd fashion. All of this seemed painfully familiar. Horribly. With his memories and this... strange reality so soon, so intertwined now, he finds it... hard, to grasp his current situation.
He was a cat. He was in an unfamiliar place.
Kray was alive and still out there. Galo was... not here. And neither were Meis. Gueira. He was alone. It wasn't anything new to him, the concept was easy for him to grasp. But this new body, the way he distinctly remembers feeling himself die...
It was confusing. He'd expected death to be the end, that the ashes that scattered from his fingertips, his legs, were just. Gone.
And yet. Here he stood, tail lashing back in forth in agitation. Had this happened to the other Burnish? Were they waiting for him, somewhere beyond this grassy plain?
Not far off, he notices a gate... railroad tracks. A road to civilization. He begins to make his way over, keeping his eyes and ears open for anyone---anything that might be hiding. It doesn't take him long to reach the tracks, to notice the bell. Lio sniffs about, trying to catch the scent of anything. Anyone. A clue, a marker. Something to let him know that someone was around. Finding only what he can determine are border marks, he quietly makes his way over to the bell, slowly reaching a paw out to ring it. Beneath the bell, as it tolls, he hears hissing, and leaps back, noticing the black mambas. His fur stands on end as he stares at the bell, at the bucket of snakes, his tail thrashing from side to side. Waiting, for one to slither out. Itching to get away from whoever thought that was a good idea.
And perhaps it was, if they didn't want visitors.
The last thing he remembers is... his powers draining. The strain between his body and the Promare he was anchored to. Strapped into a machine. His body disintegrating, turning into ashes with the force of it all. Trying desperately to stay afloat, alive. Galo... where was Galo?
Kray.
Rage fills him, explosive. Hot and boiling over. He stands on his four, trembling with it. Realizing... noticing then, that. He was standing on more legs than usual. Looking down at his body, finding fur. Paws. A tail. He checks over every inch of himself that he could, all dark fur, fur that caught the sunlight in such an odd fashion. All of this seemed painfully familiar. Horribly. With his memories and this... strange reality so soon, so intertwined now, he finds it... hard, to grasp his current situation.
He was a cat. He was in an unfamiliar place.
Kray was alive and still out there. Galo was... not here. And neither were Meis. Gueira. He was alone. It wasn't anything new to him, the concept was easy for him to grasp. But this new body, the way he distinctly remembers feeling himself die...
It was confusing. He'd expected death to be the end, that the ashes that scattered from his fingertips, his legs, were just. Gone.
And yet. Here he stood, tail lashing back in forth in agitation. Had this happened to the other Burnish? Were they waiting for him, somewhere beyond this grassy plain?
Not far off, he notices a gate... railroad tracks. A road to civilization. He begins to make his way over, keeping his eyes and ears open for anyone---anything that might be hiding. It doesn't take him long to reach the tracks, to notice the bell. Lio sniffs about, trying to catch the scent of anything. Anyone. A clue, a marker. Something to let him know that someone was around. Finding only what he can determine are border marks, he quietly makes his way over to the bell, slowly reaching a paw out to ring it. Beneath the bell, as it tolls, he hears hissing, and leaps back, noticing the black mambas. His fur stands on end as he stares at the bell, at the bucket of snakes, his tail thrashing from side to side. Waiting, for one to slither out. Itching to get away from whoever thought that was a good idea.
And perhaps it was, if they didn't want visitors.
I'M NOT YOUR PROTAGONIST, I'M NOT EVEN MY OWN