Changed world
On a desolate planet, its landscape painted in shades of orange, akin to the rusty plains of Mars, a relentless sun blazed high in the sky. Its searing, yellow-hot rays bore down mercilessly, beating the very life out of the barren earth. And yet, against all odds, the parched soil stubbornly clung to life, attempting to counter the sun's relentless assault by producing every drop of moisture it could muster.
This unforgiving world bore the name Garklin, a planet notorious for its extreme heat. The humans who dared to traverse this hostile terrain were a testament to their advanced technology, for without it, they would have been fried to a crisp in moments.
In the heart of this desert-like expanse, three figures trudged forward with determination, their bodies clad in gear that appeared tailor-made for survival in this harsh environment. But what set them apart from the average wanderer was the leader who strode confidently at the head of the trio.
This leader possessed raven-black hair, obsidian eyes that seemed to absorb the harsh sunlight, and a massive katana securely fastened to his hip. The blade, even at rest, emanated an air of deadly precision, its presence sharpened to a lethal edge by the subtle hum of its latent power.
He walked with a pride that was distinct from mere self-assuredness. It was the pride of strength and experience, a silent proclamation of his ability to dominate the world around him. The two comrades who followed in his wake did so with unwavering certainty, ready to execute any order he might issue.
Their attire, resembling armor in some ways, bore a design far removed from the medieval protection one might expect. The materials used were advanced, reflecting the society's technological progress in the face of Garklin's harsh conditions.
But just as their patrol seemed routine, a disturbance in the sky caught the attention of one of the men.
"What's that?!" cried out one of the two companions, his voice filled with alarm.
The man with the katana looked up, his eyes widening as he recognized the threat. "Get out of the way!"
With instinctual speed, they all scrambled to clear the area. The incoming object made contact with the ground, sending plumes of dust into the air, shrouding their surroundings in a thick haze.
As the dust slowly settled, a form began to take shape in the midst of the choking cloud. Lying on the arid terrain, face upturned to the blazing sun, was a young man. He possessed long, jet-black hair and skin that bore a faint pallor, a stark contrast to the planet's fiery backdrop.
He was draped in a white cloth that bore a resemblance to the gowns worn by patients in clinics, but what truly unsettled the three men was the man's exposed backside.
The young man who had just fallen from the sky was none other than Jack. He had entered what he believed to be a teleportation device, an experience that both amazed and perplexed him, considering the advanced technology involved. Until then, such devices had been confined to the realm of science fiction, far from the grasp of reality.
"Ouch, that kinda hurt," Jack muttered, though he knew that pain was no longer part of his existence. "Ha, who am I kidding? I can't feel pain; I'm already dead."
With a composed demeanor, Jack stood up and began to survey his unfamiliar surroundings. Unbeknownst to him, there were three individuals observing his every move from behind.
"Hm, this is definitely not Earth," Jack mused aloud, his gaze fixed upon the alien sun. "If this isn't Earth, where am I?"
While Jack pondered his location, the two men who accompanied the man with the katana remained wide-eyed, their gaze unintentionally fixated on Jack's exposed buttocks.
"Who's this crazy guy? Didn't he consider more appropriate clothing in this scorching weather?" thought the man with the katana, shaking his head in bewilderment. The choice of attire seemed utterly out of place in the midst of this unforgiving desert.
Jack, unaware of the scrutiny from behind, suddenly detected a faint yet alluring scent in the air. The aroma was somewhat irritating, akin to the tempting fragrance of freshly cooked meat. He turned with a start, his abrupt movement startling the two men who had been observing him, though the katana-wielder remained calm.
"Who are you?" one of the men, blond-haired, inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of caution.
"I should be asking the same question," Jack replied, his curiosity piqued. "Can you also tell me where I am?"
The man with the katana raised an eyebrow, surprised that Jack appeared oblivious to the harsh reputation of this planet, especially its notorious high temperatures.
"This is Planet Garklin," he began, offering a response to Jack's query. "I don't know where you came from, but it's known for its lower-level beasts. Since you seem unfamiliar with this place, I have one more question."
"What's that?" Jack responded, his interest piqued. He couldn't help but wonder about the nature of these "beasts" the man had mentioned; were they akin to zombies or something entirely different?.
"Why are you wearing a hospital gown in the middle of the desert?" the man asked, his hand hovering near the hilt of his katana, ready to draw the blade at a moment's notice.
Sensing the rising tension, Jack carefully considered his options. Despite his incredible strength and speed, he realized that resorting to violence wouldn't provide a solution in this unfamiliar place. He needed someone to guide him through this unfamiliar terrain.
"I was kidnapped a few days ago but managed to escape and found myself here," Jack explained, attempting to wear a somber expression, though his frozen features betrayed his emotions.
The man with the katana relaxed his grip, and his comrades followed suit. They had been eager for a fight but now had to exercise patience, at least for the time being.
"Hm, I think they bought it," Jack thought, reflecting on the truth behind his words. He had indeed been kidnapped and had successfully escaped, ultimately leading him to this mysterious and harsh world.
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