Arcane: Broken Mechanism

Several minutes had passed since the sign had first appeared before his eyes. The loading bar, which had been moving before, was now frozen at 3%, as if waiting for something important to happen. Time dragged on incredibly slowly, and although he continued to look at it, a vague, weak hope still hovered in his head that everything that was happening was just a dream.

But this dream was too real. The pain in his head, the feeling of heaviness in his body, the smell of rot and dampness around... All this did not fit into the framework of an ordinary dream. In dreams, there is no such physical pain, no unbearable heaviness that pressed on his chest, and there is no such gloomy, stinking air.

"Dreams are not like this... they are not so real," he tried to convince himself, but all this felt like something more than just a fantasy. This was reality that did not spare him, did not let him go.

He sighed resignedly, covering his face with his hands, as if trying to block out what was happening, although he knew it wouldn't help. His thoughts were confused, as if in a fog, and couldn't find a shape. He tried to somehow collect them, to understand what was happening, but his head hurt so much that each attempt only made the condition worse.

But suddenly something strange caught his attention. His hands. He took them away from his face and looked closely. His hands... they were small. He couldn't help but notice how thin and delicate his fingers had become, how the skin on them was younger than it should be. These... weren't my hands. He froze, realizing that they were too small, too young, and something in this sensation caused dissonance with his inner world. He raised them in front of him, peering into his palms, and saw: there was no masculine strength that usually came with age.

He struggled to his elbows, trying to muster all the strength to stand up, and in that moment he realized that his body didn't just feel strange – it really was alien. His gaze slid over his body. He noticed that his hands were not only small, but also thin, with barely noticeable joints and youthful skin that was soft and unwrinkled, like a teenager's.

Then his gaze unconsciously reached for his reflection in a dirty puddle on the floor. He carefully approached, leaning against the wall, and saw himself. His face, although familiar, looked younger. His features were softer, and his eyes were less tired, clearer. But most importantly – his height. He was significantly shorter than usual. His figure, a thin body with insufficient muscles, with proportions that were clearly not yet formed, could not belong to an adult.

He stepped back, feeling the ground under his feet losing firmness again. This can't be... He began to feel his neck and chest to understand what was happening, and, touching the skin, he realized - no signs of an adult body. His body was the body of a teenager, barely 13 years old.

Thoughts flashed through his head, and he realized with horror: I became a child. My age... I don't know how it happened, but I... I became a teenager.

And then his gaze suddenly fell on his hair. It was... white. Not light, not ash, but white, like snow. The hair was as short and a little disheveled as in his previous body, but this color was completely ridiculous for the age he found himself at. Snow-white hair on a teenage body - it looked so unnatural that it was another blow to his perception of reality.

He ran his hand through his hair, hoping it was just an illusion, but no, the white hairs remained as bright and unusual as the signs of the child's body he had just seen.

"What the hell happened to me?" he whispered, not taking his eyes off his reflection. A slight shudder ran through his body, but the world around him remained silent as before. He stood in this ruined room, as if this whole nightmare was his new and only home.

And then, as if the world itself heard his inner question, a new tablet with text suddenly appeared before his eyes, as suddenly and mechanically as the previous ones.

"Subject 2807. Your new name is Sirion."

He froze, unable to understand what had just happened. This name... it was not his. He did not know it. It did not sound familiar or usual. Why this name? Why this name was chosen for him, for his new life, which he apparently did not control?

He tried to collect his thoughts again, but instead felt the weight pressing on his chest intensify again. Sirion? This... this is someone else's name, not mine. It's like I'm not in my body at all... despite the color of my hair, I looked exactly the same as a child.

The sign disappeared before his eyes, but the question of his new name continued to hang in his head. He wasn't just a stranger in this world - they even stopped calling him by his real name...

"But how old am I?" he asked a new question.

The sign changed again, and before he could look away, new lines appeared on the screen:

"Subject 2807. Your new name is Sirion. Your new age is 13 years old. Height is 157 centimeters."

Each word was like a blow that continued to vibrate in his head. 13 years old. And height is 157 centimeters. Everything became even more absurd, as if his reality had simply split, and now he was in some alien, illogical place. He looked down at his hands again, at his body, which was now smaller, weaker, and younger than ever. 13 was the age when children really started to grow, when the body began to change, but to him, an adult, it seemed absurd. 157 centimeters tall? Was that… was that even possible? He tried to comprehend this data, but his mind was stuck on the fact that everything he knew was not true.

He was trapped in a body that could not be his, and with each new fact from this system that seemed more and more real, this thought only grew stronger. "What should I do now?" - the question that slipped into his head more and more often.

He stood in this dilapidated room, staring into the void, trying to collect all his scattered thoughts. The same question kept spinning in his head, which he couldn't push away: "So, I was reborn in the world of a cartoon series that was based on the lore of a computer game. No knowledge of the world outside the series, no powers. Just some kind of system... And how do I even call it up?"

Time seemed to freeze, and his gaze again rested on the ceiling, from which drops of water were still falling. He felt how this confusion, the nausea from the realization of what was happening, gradually filled him. He was an outsider in this world.

"What are my capabilities now? What kind of system is activated?" - his thoughts jumped around, not giving him peace. But in his soul, the certainty grew stronger that he was completely unprepared for what was happening. He tried to concentrate, but no reaction followed in response to his attempts.

"What if... if I just think about it?" - he ran his gaze over his surroundings again. Closed windows, dirt, destroyed furniture. There had to be a way…

He tried again, as if mentally pumping this expectation, but so far there was no change.

He stood in this dilapidated room, staring into the void, trying to collect all his scattered thoughts. The same question kept spinning in his head, which he couldn't push away: "So, I was reborn in the world of a cartoon series that was based on the lore of a computer game. No knowledge of the world outside the series, no powers. Just some kind of system... And how do I even call it up?"

Time seemed to freeze, and his gaze again rested on the ceiling, from which drops of water were still falling. He felt how this confusion, the nausea from the realization of what was happening, gradually filled him. He was an outsider in this world.

"What are my capabilities now? What kind of system is activated?" - his thoughts jumped around, not giving him peace. But in his soul, the certainty grew stronger that he was completely unprepared for what was happening. He tried to concentrate, but no reaction followed in response to his attempts.

"What if... if I just think about it?" - he ran his gaze over his surroundings again. Closed windows, dirt, destroyed furniture. There had to be a way…

He tried again, as if mentally pumping this expectation, but so far there was no change.

He stood alone, absorbed in his thoughts, trying to figure out what was happening. Only one question was spinning in his head: "How do I call this system?"

He took a deep breath and concentrated. He closed his eyes and tried to remove everything unnecessary, leaving only a clear intention. As if he were about to formulate something important, he tried to mentally imagine how he could "call" this system, this strange interface that was now part of his new world.

"System… open," he whispered in his head, as if addressing an invisible voice. Show me what to do. At first, nothing happened. He stood in silence, his breathing barely audible against the background of drops of water that continued to fall from the ceiling. But he did not give up. He repeated the thought again, focusing even more on the intention.

"System, show yourself." - And suddenly, as if by magic, a transparent panel appeared before his eyes. It was slightly dim, like a flashing screen, with fuzzy borders. Inside the panel, words immediately appeared:

"Welcome, Sirion. System is online. Loading progress 4%"

He froze. In front of him was not just a screen, but a reality that he could not ignore. Now he knew for sure that this was not just an accident

"I did it!"

He looked at the panel that appeared in front of him, feeling both surprise and relief growing. Well, at least I am not in the world of Dark Souls...