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The first thing he was was a bright light.

For all unholy reasons, that one long fluorescent bulb, attached to the ceiling with two rusted nails and several wires, was working perfectly, mercilessly blinding anyone who'd have their eyes closed for a long time, like him.

'Him'...? Was 'he'... a he? He... him... his... male. Male. Man. Was he... a man...? Was he... man...?

The next thing he felt was pain. Pain, pain, pain. Throb. Throb. As if every nerve and cell and tissue and muscle threatened to burst out. They wanted out. Throb. Throb. Throb. Let me out, save me, help. Help! Help me! It hurts! It huuuurrrrtssss...!

It hurt. Everything hurt. His head, his body... his... His head...? His body?

He shut what he thought were his eyes, and tried to fight.



The first thing he saw was a bright light.

Everything felt weird. Something shook him, or rather, something shook his insides. Everything felt loose.

But, as if giving him hope, a tiny ray of sunlight pushed through a crack in the wall. He saw a broken nameplate next to it: "______ _. Stein." Stein...? Stein... Stein... his... father... his... name... his name... Stein is... his name. And Stein decided... it felt... warm now.

Stein tried to get up - ah, so that was the problem: his legs. He thought that it was unusual for legs to feel not hurt when separated from the thighs.

Wait. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. No headache. No stomachache. No heart ache. Nothing. Zero.

But something inside hurt. It wasn't his physical body, but he decided the best word to describe the sensation was pain. For some reason, he felt that he should go.

But before that, he had to get used to this... body. He stretched his neck, his arms, and his torso. Perfect. Nothing felt loose. He simply needed to stitch his legs back on.

Time to get to work. Time to go.



The first thing he saw was a bright light.

"Ooooh! They smell so good!"

Serene as the moon might've been, his mind was nowhere near there.

"Honey..."

He was battling with himself.

"Scalpel, please."

He was battling with not himself.

"Oh, hey there!"

He had memories.

"That's Section 6 of Article XVII!"

And memories not of his own.

"Yes, hello, how may I help you?"

He thought he said things.

"Thank goodness you're here!"

And he thought he didn't.

"H-how could you...?!"

Unfortunately, only the night sky filled with stars, cold and far, was the witness to his suffering.



The first thing he saw was a bright light.

The light danced and burned on the end of the torches, brightly illuminating the sky and the black pitchforks and the pillars of his dwelling. Oh no.

First, it was simply stares. Then, it was isolation. Now, it was a direct attack.

Stein tried to compose himself, but smoke was beginning to fill his lungs. He felt like coughing, and he knew he should've been coughing, but he wasn't. But more than that, he felt his consciousness trying to slip away again. He had to get out. Fast. Faster. Faster!

Once again, everything hurt.

And the next thing he knew was that he had ran off, and the pain wore his body out. He felt... tired. Tired, yes. That was... the word. Tired. Tired and hurt. He wanted to drop. He felt like dropping.

But... if he stopped, then they'd come.

He must go... If his legs gave out... he can... crawl... yes... he can... He can... drag... his body...

But where... where should... Where should he... go now...?

He shut his eyes, and hoped... prayed... if divine Gaia could spare a moment to listen to someone like him...



The first thing he saw was a bright light.

Stein was baffled by this place. He's been sent out of a hundred towns, villages, and countries, but... this place welcomed him.

And, to be honest, it wasn't just a bright light - they were bright neon lights. He found a way to a rather busy place.

Stein was cautious at first, though. He didn't trust them much. He thought they were playing with him, looking for an opportunity to trick him.

But no one did anything to him. In fact, they even liked him around. Some of them complimented him, asking him where he got 'those damn cool tats' and 'awesome body ink-dye'. Interestingly enough, they even praised him when he answered it was just natural.

And then, someone passed by, having trouble with their clothes, made out of magical fabric native to this land for some reason. Stein took the items and repaired them. Soon, it was a part-time job of repairing stuff. Next, it was a hobby of making garments out of other designs. Then, it was a business about taking designs voted on by the creative inhabitants of Central Gaia and making them come to life.

Huh... now where did he hear that story before... It seemed so familiar... oh, never mind.

Ah, but before that business, he tried to sell his hand to alleviate some of his financial worries and at least have something in his shop. A lot of potential buyers engaged in a bidding war and fought with their bare hands to get that single merch off CrosStitch, and good thing Stein got it back before things got out of hand. Never again.

And never again did he feel so lonely. He felt happy. He even had a respectful and devoted assistant.

But, at times, when he was left alone, he contemplated. He thought a lot. He felt something was still missing, though... something... Father... who are you...? And why... was I... born...?

But ah, time to stop looking around what he didn't have. Time to stay.