A blinding flash exploded before
Klaus’s eyes. He flinched, squeezing them shut as sharp pain and confusion
struck at once. His head spun. Nausea surged through him. His legs gave out,
his body refusing to obey, and he collapsed — not onto the floor of his
bedchamber, where he had stood only moments ago, but onto something hard and
uneven. Stone. Cold. Completely unfamiliar.

He forced his eyes open.

Darkness. A cool breeze brushed his
face.

Outside?

How?

A tight, foreign sensation gripped
his chest, throwing his breathing into disarray. He tried to rise, but
misjudged his strength. His legs buckled again.

“What the hell happened?” he rasped,
almost desperate.

No answer.

Accepting that he couldn’t stand
yet, Klaus pulled his hands away from the rough ground and sat back, covering
his face.

He hadn’t felt helpless in years.

He was the heir to the throne. This
was unacceptable.

Remaining still, he focused on
steadying his breath until the nausea slowly receded. Then, behind him, came a
long metallic roar — accompanied by a burst of harsh white light.

His survival instincts snapped into
place.

Klaus turned sharply toward the
sound and nearly groaned as another wave of dizziness hit him. A monstrous
shape with blazing eyes hurtled in his direction at terrifying speed, emitting
a shrill, unnatural cry — not quite a roar, not quite a scream.

He wouldn’t be able to dodge.

His hand flew to his belt.

Empty.

His weapon lay on his bed. Only
minutes earlier he had been preparing to sleep when soldiers from his father’s
army had smashed through his chamber doors. The last thing he remembered was
the whistle of steel by his ear — certain death — and then the blinding flash.

Beheaded in his own room… or
devoured here by some unknown beast.

Which fate was worse?

Where was he?

His life flickered through his mind
in fragments.

He had never been unarmed. Never.

The creature stopped abruptly,
releasing a strange growl and fixing him with its blazing eyes. Klaus’s body
locked. Drawing breath required immense effort.

Run.

Unarmed. Alone. In an unfamiliar
place.

Run?

No.

He did not flee battle.

Then something even more absurd
occurred.

The creature’s torso opened.

And a man stepped out.

Klaus stared in disbelief. The
gray-haired stranger looked terrified, shouting something in a language Klaus
did not recognize.

Shock lingered, but reason began to
reassert itself.

Distrust came easily to him.

His muscles tensed, ready to strike
if necessary. The man was clearly no warrior. Dull blue eyes, wide with fear. A
round scar marked his cheekbone.

Torture? A former noble seeking
revenge on the royal family?

Still speaking rapidly, the man
crouched beside him. The unfamiliar words dragged Klaus from his haze. He
reached out and pressed two fingers to the spot between the man’s brows,
releasing a faint surge of electricity.

Control. Power.

The sensation steadied him.

It lasted only a heartbeat. The man
blinked in confusion, apparently unaware anything had happened.

“I’m sorry, young man! I thought I
stopped in time. Did I hit you?”

The words suddenly made sense.

But the small use of magic drained
Klaus more than it should have. It felt as though something inside him had been
siphoned away. Weakness crashed down, replacing the brief reassurance of power.

He fought to remain conscious.

Darkness swallowed him.

He awoke in a different place
entirely.

“What the hell…”

Fear returned — sharp and unwelcome.
Had he been captured? What would come next? Interrogation? Execution?

First a mechanical beast. Now a blindingly
white room that smelled sharply of chemicals. At least the bed beneath him was
soft.

A young woman entered, dressed in
strange green garments — trousers, no less.

Klaus understood one thing
immediately: he was not merely outside his city.

He was not even in his country.

He could not afford panic.

“Excuse me,” he said in the language
he had just forced himself to comprehend.

“You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the city hospital. A man
brought you in last night — said he hit you on the highway outside town. I’ll
call the doctor.”

She spoke quickly and disappeared
before he could respond.

Hospital.

Infirmary.

He had never seen one so bright, so
sterile, so filled with unknown devices.

If you do not understand the
situation, adapt.

His teacher’s voice echoed in his
mind.

Very well.

He would adapt.

This land was astonishing. Its
inventions alone were worth studying. If he remained here long enough, he could
learn its systems — perhaps even bring them back to his homeland.

Perhaps he could change the cruelty
of that world.

Perhaps people did not have to live
in fear.

Perhaps he could become the ruler
who truly turned the world upside down.

The people here seemed at ease. They
walked unguarded. No visible weapons. No tension in their movements.

A faint ache stirred in his chest.

Not fear.

Envy.

Envy of their easy smiles.
Of the unseen strength that protected them.
Of air untainted by blood, fear, and suffering.