•New And Old Faces•

Chapter I: A Quite Unpleasant Ride

First chapter yipeee!!!

Fun fact : the first part was supposed to be in the prologue but it was too long and I hated it lol

Edit: now this first chapter is somehow way shorter than the prologue. I don't know how the fuck I keep pulling shits like that but oh well.

Edit 2 : okay I managed to write it fully but the thing is that it's still shorter than the prologue. How. I fucking hate my life.

Anyway tw : kidnapping, swearing, implied/referred/mentioned human and countryhumans trafficking (does that even make senses???), implied/referred poaching, derealization and mental breakdown (In a way-)

⚠️Reminder that I don't support any of those. I'm only writing it for the sake of the story.

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The first thing Tuvalu felt as he slowly gained consciousness once more is an unbearable, daunting pain searing on his shoulder.

"...v...u..."

His body was moving in a slow, rhythmic way, as if he was being cradled like an infant, contrasting with how he felt now, both physically and mentally.

"T...v...lu...?"

His expression scrunched up, getting sour as discomfort reasoned in his entire being, physically speaking. As time passes, he could finally discern a few sounds. His hearing wasn't still the best but, for now, it was better than nothing.

Waves.

Slight rattling.

Wooden planks creaking.

That's all he could hear on the current. Nothing else, nothing more and that frustrated him.

"Tu...v..!"

He then tried to open his eyes, though he felt as if his eyelids were glued to each other, making unable to do something except if he wanted the feeling of his face being lit on fire to continue.

"Tu...lu!!"

"..w-w-"

"TUVALU."

The concerned one instantly opened his eyes as he took a big gasp, almost as if he was suffocating a few seconds ago. His vision was in such miserable condition even blurry wasn't powerful enough to describe it. His breath was shallow and difficult, each take short and raspy as everything started to spin around him while he was caugh in a cyclone of darkness and confusion. The person who was talking to him didn't make it better for their voice would only join him in the tornado and worsening his senses.

However, when they realized that it wasn't the best idea they decided to grab him in a firm yet gentle grip, trying to keep him steady, on the group, a soft hand touching his chin.

Soon, the fog in front of him started to disappear by little until he could discern where we was actually.

Unfortunately, it seemed that his efforts of going back to his senses were that a necessity for the dark was the only thing he saw.

But, aside the shadows, he could make out a silhouette with a concerned face looking- no, not at him- looking through him. It was unsettling as if it wasn't supposed to be there, as if it wasn't real, this isñ̸̩̱̠͐̔͋͡'̷̼̌̓͌͂͆͡t̶̝̖̙̳̣͙͂̈́̌̒ ş̵̹̳̬̪͠u̶͎͉̺̎̾͑͘͘̕p̷̛̹̖̈́͗̒̔̄p̷̮̜̫̠͋̈́̈́̏͡͝ő̴̡̹̬̫̼̒s̵͚͎̦̫̎͟ͅe̵̠̎͊̕d̸͍̭͚̘͖̩̽̊͊̄̚ t̸͔͈̒̓̏͡͡o̵̭̓̄̈͟ b̴̢̨͚̹͎̄̔̉ę̷̨̛̣̫̺͔̈́̉ ţ̶̣̎̑̿̆̈́͝h̶̭͆-̶͖̥͕̇͘͡͡

The silhouette shook him a bit, making him snap out of his t̴̖͈͍̫̊͡h̷̹͂ò̷̼͎̗̾͜͝͝u̶͈̪̣͉͂̓g̴͎̒h̴̲̬̱͊͛̂̾ț̵̲͚̔̉͑̿s̶̹̲͆̿.