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Xi'an Island.
12:53 p.m.
The man opened his eyes.
The atmosphere was drenched in miasma. Haziness had invaded all that surrounded him, from the view of the trees to the sight of the soaring birds. His temples hurt badly, evident by the manner in which he creased his incarnadine and visibly veined forehead. His hair was jet black, with a sprinkling of brown -- brown sand.
He was on the shore of a particularly unknown sea.
He blinked once, his eyelids slowly enjoining and parting, and turned his head.
From his horizontal berth, he could see the sprawling beach, winding downwards, unbounded and endless. A horizonless sight of brown sparkling sand, replete with yards of coruscating chrome drunk from the sun.
His heart thumped. He looked upwards again and groaned as two minute clouds parted and the sun poured upon his eyeballs in all its glory. He tried to lift his hand to shade his eyes but they would not answer. They only twitched poorly. It was as though his mind was not in full control of his body.
His brows furrowed. The sand prickled his bare back and legs, creating a stinging sensation, whilst the sun pierced his face, chest and nether regions.
It was in that moment, with the sand stinging beneath him and the sun shining above him, that he realized he was utterly and completely naked. His heart accelerated.
In an instant, a tall shadowy figure towered over him. His entire system beclouded straightaway .
"Michelangelo Darkstone?" a voice said slowly. It sounded muffled to his befogged hearing, as though it had come from a gagged mouth.
"Michelangelo Darkstone... " It came again, drawling painfully in his ears. He groaned and squinted his eyes. He could see the figure vaguely now. It looked like the figure of a man.
"Michel-Michel... Angelo-Angelo..."
Oh no, he thought, wincing. The voice had doubled. No, quintupled. So had the figure. He could see five men now. All the same. Blonde hair. Dark coat. With an aura colder than the seawind being swept his way by the deep blue waters. His eyes breezed shut, in a bid to shut out the voice--and the throbbing pain.
"MICHELANGELO DARKSTONE. "
It was as though the vibrations in his head had stopped at the immediate sound of the man's raised voice, like the sudden abrupt end to an enthusiastically rung bell. His system filtered at once, distilled, then illuminated calmness and clarity. He opened his eyes.
He frowned and sat up carefully.
He blinked. The man was one. The man smirked.
"Wh-Wh-Wh--" his lips tries to form the question.
"Can't speak, Michelangelo? " The man chuckled. "It would seem you have some similar peculiarities with your sister."
Michelangelo frowned. He looked down at his body, then back at the man, and asked with all the veracity a confused and helplessly naked person could muster,
"Who is Michelangelo Darkstone? "
ΦΦΦ
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Gwendolyn,Get Your Gun🚬
Action°Though she has vowed to scorch the earth and burn oceans in a bid to find her mother and brother's killer, Gwendolyn also has multifarious battles to fight and traitorous truths to uncover. Lies forged around her birth and dangerous secrets creepin...
