Lon lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind was foggy, and every question that arose was lost in the chaos of fragmented memories.
He tried to understand what had happened, but his thoughts slipped away, refusing to give him a clear answer.
«...Renvel...»
That name surfaced in his memory once again. It felt foreign, yet strangely familiar. Lon raised his hand and ran it across his forehead, trying to grasp reality.
A slight pain in his head made him press his temples tightly. He remembered that his name was Lon. Then why did this name feel... natural?
«Damn it! These memories... Who is Renvel? I am Lon!»
His thoughts were a mess. Inside him, two different pasts seemed to collide, merging into an inseparable jumble.
It felt like two colors being mixed together, blending into a new shade.
And it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
===
Three days had passed since Lon woke up in this world.
To say they were hellish would be an understatement.
Yes, he managed to recover his core memories, but the price was too high.
Three days without sleep. Every time he tried to close his eyes, a flood of images would crash into his mind, making him writhe in agony.
Imagine falling asleep only to be jolted awake by a sudden sharp pain — like being electrocuted over and over again until you processed what you saw.
Lon had nearly gone insane.
Fortunately, this world had advanced medicine, and the local drugs could temporarily ease the pain.
Whenever that happened, he felt like he was in heaven. That's how much the suffering had drained him.
But there was a silver lining: his main memories had returned, merging with his new ones. Now, he could see two different pasts at once.
Of course, not everything had come back. Some details remained in the shadows.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
He had no choice but to accept it.
His gaze fell on the book left by Donald — the same book his brother had given him.
Lon hesitated. How had he behaved around his brother? What did he feel for Santi?
Those memories were among the ones that hadn't returned.
He sighed.
«...Why is everything so complicated?»
Getting up from the bed, Lon felt his body resist slightly, as if it wasn't used to moving.
A strange feeling. As if he wasn't in his own body.
But he knew — this was his body now.
He took a few steps around the room, lost in thought.
Should he accept the identity of Renvel?
Now that his memories were returning, he understood: if he tried to claim otherwise, he would have serious problems.
This world was full of creatures capable of manipulating minds and taking over others' bodies. Such beings were despised and mercilessly exterminated.
If he said he wasn't Renvel but Lon…
They would kill him.
So, for his own survival, from this day forward, he would be Renvel. Not Lon.
At least, this way, he wouldn't die so quickly.
He sighed and walked to the window, hoping for a distraction.
What he saw left him speechless.
The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, as if covered by a soft veil. Floating islands and airborne vehicles of all kinds drifted through the air.
Some resembled classic dirigibles, while others looked like ships with wings — or even ones that functioned without any visible support at all.
But the islands themselves were even more fascinating.
Each had its own small city, boasting unique architecture.
Yet, there was an overarching style: gothic structures combined with steam-powered mechanisms.
The houses looked like something from 18th-century England, but with modifications that incorporated steam technology.
Every building was surrounded by pipes — some thin and barely noticeable, others massive, even larger than the structures themselves.
This world was truly fantastical. Unlike anything Lon had ever seen.
He gazed at it in awe… but along with that awe came fear.
This world was alien. Unknown.
He wanted to go back home.
But to do that, he first had to uncover its secrets.
— Looks like my adventure is only beginning...