Wading through the windy field, his bare feet began to experience the woes of life when his toe met the end of something hidden by the grass.

  “AAAOOUCH!!!”

  Just like that, any illusion of grace or mystery vanished. He crumpled to the ground, rolling around in the tall grass, clutching his foot with tears welling in his eyes.

  The hell was that!? The realization finally hit his dense brain like a slap to the skull.

  Wait… where am I?

  As thoughts erupted in a cacophony of questions, he felt himself getting overwhelmed. So as the questions rolled, his head felt like it was overheating as smoke seemed to cloud his own responses. The where, what, and who of the situation were too much, so his mind found a way to cope. Through a mix of carelessness and idiocy.

  Uhhhh, we’ll get there when we get there. He thought to himself as his panicked face melted back into an annoyingly blank expression.

  Standing back up, he brushed off the dirt and grass and proceeded to investigate what he’d stubbed his toe on.

  I wonder wha—

  His thought was cut short. Frozen in time, hidden under the grass, lay the remains of a strange dinosaur-like creature. Its jaws lay open, its eyes open and glassy, yet the body appeared untouched—preserved, even. It was clearly dead but it didn’t smell. Kneeling down, he brushed aside more grass, revealing more of its wounded body. It had strange wires and non-organic components oddly placed seemingly at random throughout the body.

  Unfazed by the strange corpse, he laid his hand on the tip of the creature's snout and, with a forceful snap, he shut its mouth.

  Would’ve sucked if I stepped in its mouth; that would’ve been real nasty.

  This guy. He then ignored? What? HEY! Moving past the creature's body, he carried on towards the distant tower with no real questions about the strange creature behind him. Cresting the top of a hill that overlooked a small valley that led to the tower, he felt a sense of elation as the warm wind ensnared his body. The warm wind swept through the tall grass at his feet, curling around him in a pleasant embrace, carrying the fresh scent of the rolling fields.

  Looking down the hill, his eyes fell on more of the strange, dead things. Creatures of all shapes and sizes lay scattered across the landscape, frozen in death in a variety of unnatural positions. Some lay sprawled on the ground as if struck mid-struggle, their limbs twisted at awkward angles. Others were slumped forward as if death had caught them mid-step, heads hanging limp or limbs half-raised toward an unseen threat. A few stood upright, towering in eerie silence—rigid and lifeless.

  Drawn by morbid curiosity, he descended the slope and approached one of the strange corpses. The creature's body was an unsettling fusion of reptilian biology and cold machinery—a grotesque lizard-cyborg hybrid. Its scaled skin, cracked and pale green, merged seamlessly with patches of rusted metal plating along its torso and limbs. Where its eyes should have been, twin glass orbs sat lifeless, cracked along the edges, revealing tangles of frayed wires beneath. Tubes and cables snaked from the back of its jaw down its spine, linking organic tissue to mechanical components in a design that seemed neither intentional nor natural.

  He studied the creature for a moment, glancing between its twisted form and his own body. Metal limbs fused with sinew, the strange amalgam of machine and reptile, stood in stark contrast to the softness of his skin and the natural bend of his joints. The size alone was enough to make him shake his head—this thing was built like a fortress on legs, easily towering over him even in death. He raised his hand, flexing his fingers experimentally, noting the absence of any wires or metallic seams beneath his skin.

  Yup, I’m definitely not one of those. So he determined that he obviously was not one of those things.

  Standing pensively, he tried to rationalize what kind of being he might be. Ah—I don’t know anything! He came to realize. Oh well, thinking about that hurts my head anyway. We’ll worry about it later. Waving his arm away as if swatting the brief existential crisis away, he carried on his quest for the tower.

  Watching his step, he made his way down the hill, navigating past the seemingly fresh corpses. The creatures oozed a strange, purple ichor that seeped into the soil and pooled in dark stains, outlining a zone where the grass didn't dare to grow.

  Each creature was different—some colossal, their bodies towering over the boy, while others were only slightly larger than him. Their snouts ranged from sharp and elongated to flat and blunt, while their limbs varied wildly in number, size, and design. Robotic implants gleamed on many of them—grafted plates of metal and strange circuits fused seamlessly into organic bodies. Others bore massive, ragged wounds, as if they’d been ripped apart in battle, and some showed signs of brutal amputations.

  He didn’t know what had led the creatures to this odd fate, but he seemed to understand that, for whatever reason, they had stopped. Whether he truly grasped that they were dead was hard to discern as he carelessly walked around, curiously inspecting and even occasionally touching and prodding at the undefiled remains.

  Before he realized it, he stood at the base of the tower. The towering structure loomed above him, stretching impossibly high into the sky, its surface a blend of smooth ivory and weathered bronze. At the top, a massive disc rested like a crown upon the clouds, radiating an eerie grandeur—both majestic and oppressive.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Under the immense shadow of the tower, the warmth of the breeze vanished, replaced by a cold stillness that wrapped around him like a silent greeting. It was not the kind of welcome that invited comfort, but rather one that acknowledged his presence with quiet indifference.

  There was no obvious entrance—only the imposing expanse of ivory stone and bronze metal—but something else caught his attention. Decorating the base of the tower were bouquets of flowers, old knickknacks, dusty bottles, and weathered photographs—a silent, makeshift memorial of sorts. He wandered over, staring at the arrangements as a strange sensation stirred within him. His chest felt heavy, with a tightness pressing against him, but he remained expressionless.

  Tilting his head, he lowered himself to the ground and quietly watched the wind caress the flowers that had been laid before him. Some were brittle and dry, their faded petals crumbling away with the softest breeze, drifting into the air like remnants of forgotten memories. Others remained vibrant, their petals tightly clinging to their stems, their color still fresh, contrasting the echoes of old memories.

  He curled up and watched the flowers rustle some more. Blankly contemplating the memory of people.

  People—person. I’m someone. I’m a person! The thought was oddly bittersweet, lingering in his mind like a half-forgotten melody. He didn’t quite understand why it carried weight, and while it didn’t explicitly bother him, it stirred something faint—hatred. But for who or what he didn’t know.

  “Are you okay?” A voice called out from behind, breaking the stillness.

  Startled by the sudden voice, he whipped around to see a boy tightly holding onto the orange straps of a well-worn backpack. The stranger's expression was a mix of pity and disdain. He appeared to be around the same age, dressed in a loose-fitting overcoat, its faded orange and light brown fabric hanging down to his thighs. Below, his dark brown cargo pants, covered in pockets, were tucked tightly into a pair of rugged boots that looked oversized.

  The stranger’s blonde hair was odd—golden at the roots but gradually fading into soft, pale blue tips, as though dipped in the sky itself. His eyes seemed to match his hair—one a deep gold, the other a deep icy blue, mirroring the gradient in his locks.

  “Yup,” he responded casually, completely unfazed by his own nakedness.

  “Then...why are you naked?” The blonde kid asked, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion.

  “Naked? Me?” He looked down at himself, blinking in surprise. “oh?… I guess I am.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… I don’t know, like some kind of memorial-defiling pervert,” the blonde boy said, eyeing him down with a mix of disgust and wariness.

  “I do? Is that bad?”

  “Yeah—wait no. Who are you?” The blonde kid asked, shaking his head, trying to make sense of the strange, naked guy in front of him.

  “I dunno,” the naked boy replied, shrugging casually.

  The blonde kid’s face twisted a bit as he clenched his lips in frustration. “Do you at least have a name?”

  “I dunno,” he repeated again in the same annoying tone.

  “Did you hit your head? Or... lose your memory? ” The blonde kid asked, his frustration giving way to genuine confusion as he searched the the naked stranger's face for any clue.

  “I didn’t hit my head and I didn’t lose my memory,” he replied while standing up, as if completely assured of his clarity despite the obvious confusion.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Can you at least cover yourself?” The blonde kid blurted out, waving his hands frantically, as he turned away in embarrassment.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re naked!”

  “Is that a problem?” he asked, completely unfazed as the breeze swept between his legs.

  “It’s called common decency! Just—just wait there for a sec,” the blonde kid said while running back towards a small cart being pulled by what appeared to be a bizarre cross between a bear and a rabbit.

  "Whoa, what’s that thing?!” The naked boy exclaimed, ignoring the demands of the blonde kid.

  “Wait! Stay over there!” He shouted as he frantically rummaged through the bags on the carriage.

  Ignoring him, the naked boy jumped onto the rabbit-bear creature, burying himself in its soft, fluffy fur. The creature didn’t seem to mind at all, continuing to lazily sniff at the ground as if nothing had happened.

  "Say, what’s this thing called?” The naked boy asked, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper into the creature’s soft, pinkish fur.

  “I told you to wait!” The blonde kid huffed, waving a black cloak frantically in the naked boy’s direction. “And for the love of my eyes, put this on!” he added, glaring as his pet rabbit-bear continued to be smothered.

  The naked boy turned up from the fluffy paradise, spotting the cloak, and, connecting the dots in his brain, slid off the rabbit-bear with a carefree grin. Without a word, he strolled over and yoinked the cloak right out of the flustered blonde’s hands.

  “By the way, I’m Lucas.” The blonde kid—now revealed as Lucas—said with a sigh. “So, can you tell me anything about who you are?” He asked, watching with mild exasperation as the naked boy clumsily fumbled with the cloak.

  “Ah, so that’s what this thing is called—Lucas,” the boy said with a satisfied nod, patting the creature like an old car.

  “NO! What? How did you even—no, MY name is Lucas!” Lucas exclaimed, jabbing a finger at his own chest in disbelief.

  “Oh, my bad. It’s my first time talking to anyone,” he said, bowing his head slightly, as if that excused his idiocy.

  “First time? Like, ever? You’ve never spoken to anyone before?” Lucas asked, his confusion deepening as he stared at the—idiot—I mean boy in disbelief.

  “Nope. But now I really want a name, though I can’t put my finger on what,” the naked boy said, scratching his head in deep thought. He stood there, eyes narrowing as he tried to pull something out of the void of his mind. Then, like a whisper from the forest, it came to him: "Gira,” he whispered. His face lit up. “That’s it! I shall now be known as Gira.” He declared, staring longingly at the cloudless horizon.

  “Gira? That’s…a pretty strange name for a boy.” Lucas muttered, frowning as he mulled over the unusual choice.

  “It is? Eh, whatever. It is what it is.” Gira shrugged, completely unfazed. He spun around, arms wide, pointing at everything. “So, Lucas, what’s all this?”

  “I’m not some walking Encyclopedia, okay?" Lucas snapped, “And you still haven’t told me who you really are!”

  "Well, you’re no fun.” Gira teased, but then paused, his expression shifting as a thought crossed his mind. A slow smile spread across his face, and he locked eyes with Luca’s gaze. “I’m a person!” he declared, his voice rising as the wind surged around him, whipping through his spiky black hair like it was answering his call.

  Lucas stared at him, eyebrows furrowing as a single thought crossed his mind: This guy is either completely deranged, just plain stupid, or both.

  Rubbing his temple, Lucas took a deep, steady breath. "Alright, you’ve clearly got some kind of issue. But leaving you naked out here would be unethical. So—I’m offering you a ride back to town.”

  “A ride? To the land of Town? ” Gira asked, tilting his head in genuine confusion.