A walk in the Nightside

Epilogue: A Strange Awakening

Michael's mind slowly cleared as he regained consciousness, his body aching in a way that made him feel as if he'd been through a war. The cold ground beneath him was unforgiving, biting at his skin through his torn clothes. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent pain, and it took him a few moments to focus on the reality around him. The air felt thinner here, colder—but not in the heavy, oppressive way he was used to from the Nightside. This was something different. The sharp scent of fall was in the air, a crispness that signaled change and the passage of time.

He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain that shot through his limbs. It was a strange sensation, as if his body was still catching up to where he was—or where he wasn't. He took in his surroundings, disoriented for a moment. The city was dark, the streets empty, the occasional flicker of streetlights casting long shadows. He had no idea where he was, but the sense of being in a place both familiar and foreign hit him like a hammer.

The cold bite of autumn air cut through Michael as he stood frozen on the sidewalk, his mind struggling to make sense of what was unfolding before him. The unmistakable sound of drums filled the air, growing louder with every passing second. Something in the air was off—wrong—but Michael couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle that was happening in front of him.

The T-Rex came charging down the street.

Michael blinked, his brain momentarily refusing to process what he was seeing. The enormous creature thundered through the city, its massive claws reverberating against the concrete as it plowed forward, unstoppable. And atop that beast—a man, clad in a long trench coat, the wind whipping around him with an air of calm command.

What the hell?

Then, as if some strange force of recognition snapped into place, it hit him. The figure, the coat, the aura of someone who had no qualms about riding a T-Rex into the middle of a chaotic situation—it was Harry Dresden. Michael had read about him in the Dresden Files, books from his previous world that painted the picture of a wizard too stubborn to die. The same Harry Dresden who fought dark magic, monsters, and gods.

The realization settled heavily in Michael's gut. This is Chicago.

The man on the T-Rex didn't spare a glance in Michael's direction as he expertly guided the dinosaur toward the swirling vortex of energy up ahead—a rift, some kind of magical storm that flickered with violent power. Michael stood there, dumbfounded. This wasn't a book. This wasn't some made-up story. It was real. The city, the magic, the creatures... everything was real.

He watched, helpless, as Dresden urged the creature forward, moving with the same confidence Michael had read about. Harry Dresden, the wizard, the man who had faced impossible odds and somehow always managed to pull through, was riding a T-Rex straight into the heart of a magical rift.

The ground vibrated beneath him as the rift's storm intensified, crackling with a dark and alien energy that Michael could feel deep in his bones. The streetlights flickered, their light fighting against the unnatural glow that bled from the rift. It was like nothing Michael had ever felt in the Nightside—this was a different kind of magic, more intense, more chaotic, and yet somehow more real.

As Dresden and his T-Rex vanished into the rift, Michael's heart pounded in his chest. The rift closed, leaving nothing but the echo of drums and the unsettling memory of what he had just witnessed.

Michael slowly turned his head, his mind reeling with the weight of the situation. He was no longer in the Nightside. He wasn't even in the world he knew. The world he had come from, the one where he was trying to survive in the shadows of Strangefellows and the chaos of the Nightside, was gone. He had crossed into something entirely new, a place where magic wasn't just something to be used—it was alive.

And Harry Dresden was just a part of it.

Michael's breath caught in his throat as the reality of his situation started to sink in. I'm in a different world. A world where wizards ride dinosaurs into magical storms.

He had heard of the supernatural, of the things lurking in the corners of the world, but seeing it for himself was something else entirely. Magic in this place was raw, untamed, and he was standing right in the middle of it.

I have no idea what's going on, he thought, his fingers clenching into fists. But one thing was clear: this city, Chicago, had a history—and now, so did he. Harry Dresden's world was as dangerous as the Nightside, maybe even more so. But Michael wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

His heart was still pounding as he glanced back toward the place where the rift had been, knowing it wasn't just some random occurrence. Something had brought him here. But why? And for what purpose?

The magic in the air still hummed, and as he stood there in the quiet aftermath, the full weight of his situation hit him. He had crossed over into something bigger, something far more dangerous. The Nightside had been his battleground, but this new world—this city—held a power of its own. And Michael was right in the middle of it.

And now, I'm going to have to figure out how to survive.

His thoughts were interrupted by the distant hum of the city, and for the first time since his arrival, he realized something: no matter how strange, no matter how dangerous, he wasn't helpless anymore. This world had its rules, and if he wanted to live, he had to learn them.

With a deep breath, Michael began to walk, every step echoing with uncertainty and purpose. There was no going back now, not to the world he had known. He had no idea what awaited him in this new place, but one thing was clear—he wasn't just surviving anymore. He was part of this world, for better or worse.

And as the city's lights flickered in the distance, he knew that whatever came next, he would face it—just like Harry Dresden.