4 New Dawn

Jordan's body was mended shut, with his knees to his chest, and his arms over his knees.

That's what it felt like. He wasn't sure if he was still in the empty 'existence,' or...

...

The cold was spreading through his body, and it felt unbearable. He hated the cold. Compared to the state in which he came from, whatever was happening here was worse. Slowly, he felt the cold creep down his body, and lower and lower, he felt himself become more vulnerable. And colder.

He tried and tried to open his eyes, but nothing happened. It was as if the muscles in his face were depleted of all energy.

He died.

...Right?

He died in a crash, and then...

...

What was happening to him...

He couldn't move, and his whole body was being submerged in an icy coating.

It felt like he was drowning.

He couldn't even open his mouth to gasp.

Every second that passed, he felt colder and colder.

The second the heat was sapped from his chest, it was sapped from both of his arms as well.

He'd given up on trying to open his eyes, as that was probably what bothered him the most. He persistently maintained his attempts to open his mouth, to voice something, anything about his situation, even if there was nobody to hear it.

He didn't have any luxury of relaxation. He wasn't able to feel anything on his hands, as it was being replaced with an icy sensation.

It kept creeping down his abdomen, right down unto his stomach. He felt the previously folded knees extend themselves.

Although it seemed like he didn't have any heat to be sapped from him in the first place, it felt excruciating to go from nothing to worse.

The chill continued to go down to his knees.

With no other outlet of which to vent his shortcomings, he repeated them within his mind.

Thoughts like 'What was happening? Is it going to stay this way forever? What's causing this? What did his choice even end up affecting? Is he paralyzed? Where is he? What happened to everything else?'

He felt like a cold, mummified corpse, and the imminent claustrophobia from not being able to move was getting the better of his anxiety.

The cold rolled down to his ankles.

He felt like he had sunk at the bottom of an ocean, like a rusty anchor.

Now it was at the ball of his feet.

Nothing could help ease the mind of his discomfort.

And finally his toes...

...

"~HHHHNNGGAAAH..."

...

Jordan felt a piercing pain in his head as he was finally able to open his mouth.

"~..."

"~...eugh.."

Upon realizing that he was suddenly back in control of his body, Jordan moaned a surprised exhale, and tried to calm himself down with his breathing.

He was still cold as ever.

'𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮?'

He got a sense of relief that he was able to move his own body. In his euphoric state, he clenched, then unclenched his fist, without lifting it from its position.

His eyes were still closed.

It was partially a natural reaction to knowing that if he was alive then whatever state he was in, wasn't one he wanted to see. The other reason was that the fatigues feeling didn't change at all. If anything, being able to move the rest of his body even further exemplified how immovable his eyelids were. The time he's spent as his hollow "existence" didn't affect him too much, since it was almost like those memories were implanted into him, rather than experienced. That said, he still recognized that while he was in such a state, he didn't have any eyelids, nor any sense of tiredness, so he spent that time completely awake. You don't seem to take sleep for granted until you're robbed of the ability for it. Whatever was happening to him, he wasn't able to do so much as choose to open, nor close his eyes. Jordan understood that much.

Jordan felt like he was in a position where he was laying down, so he tilted his head back, hoping to catch it on something. If he was in bed, it would be a pillow. If he was elsewhere, then anything more comfortable than nothing would be fine.

As he relaxed his neck, lowering his tense, tired body, he felt something warm on his nape.

"~...!"

He recoiled at the feeling. The realization of an unfamiliar feeling woke him up, similar to the feeling when you remember you're late to work, in the middle of sleeping in. He turned his head and opened his eyes to look at whatever he's just lied upon.

...

"~...Uurrgh...!"

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't able to see anything. Not a 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 of something, but 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 of something else. He felt his eyes overload with the bright light before him, bringing a burning sensation to the back of his eyes. As he opened them, he was singed by the light obstructing his vision.

"~Aaacht...!"

He lifted his hands to his face to block the light out of his eyes.

...

As his palms met the upper parts of his cheeks, he felt soft folds and a wrinkly texture between his fingers as he gripped his temples.

His eyes still felt terrible, so he didn't have the choice to look at whatever was causing the uncomfortable feeling.

He pulled his hands away from his face, keeping his eyes closed, and rubbed his hands together to try and rid his hands of the sensation. As he did this, the only thing he came to realize was that the wrinkles were on his hands, not whatever it was that he was touching. The thought brought great discomfort.

As he felt the discomfort on his hands, he began to feel everything else on his body.

"~..Luughh..."

The cold never left his body from the moments previous, and instead, it felt even worse, as he began getting the cognizance of goosebumps all over his body, up his arms and his abdomen.

As far as he knew, he couldn't use his ears. He felt a soft ringing in each ear, and could only hear the faint outline of the noises he made with his mouth.

As he jostled his tongue inside his mouth, he found that his jaw had no teeth within them, and instead was rubbing his tongue over soft, pink gum. The awkward, unfamiliar pulpy squish made him gag, but whatever may have been in his stomach was kept down.

At some point, he began tearing up from the strain of his throat trying to expunge something that wasn't there, and he could feel the tears roll down his cheek. He stowed his tongue into the bottom of his mouth to avoid reminding his body of the lack of teeth and reduced the constant gagging to a mild twitch in the back of his throat.

Jordan, who was completely conscious and awake, began to feel extremely anxious, as he kept finding faults on his body.

It only got worse since he couldn't even open his eyes to see what he was feeling.

He rubbed his arms, trying to warm them up, only to feel skin so sticky, cold, and clammy, it felt like it was going to slough off his arm. His fingers themselves felt short and insufficient.

His heart began pounding with unease, and his breathing grew irregular.

"~auuugh-wh.."

As he groaned in discomfort, he felt a heavy covering get draped on top of his body, causing his panic to halt.

As he waited for something else to happen, he stood still, only to find that he couldn't feel anything moving, other than his own heartbeat.

'𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴...'

Jordan racked his brain for an explanation. Was he alive? Was his condition salvageable back then? Maybe his eyes have just been adjusted to the dark, and he's been in a coma. He also thought about the possibility that he was in a morgue, and the bright lights were what have been searing his eyes.

...

His eyes...

"~..."

He tried to pry open his eyes one more time...

...

...

"~Hhnngh..."

The light was still enough to cause him pain when he opened his eyes.

Even opening his eyes a little bit allowed the harsh sensation to invade.

It felt like someone was pouring acid into his eyes, and as soon as he closed them again, it was immediately flushed out.

Using his hands, he was most likely able to feel his way around whatever he was contained in, but he hadn't caught even a glimpse of what awaited him.

...

He began to think about the state he was in just a while ago, where he didn't feel anything at all. He thought about how when he was in such a state, he only had one thing to worry about.

...

He began to think about how maybe, feeling nothing would be better than what he was experiencing now.

...

...

Jordan forced his eyes open with what felt like all the muscles in his face.

"~GHHHHHHR...!"

He widened his eyes much farther than he would've normally, staring into the light, letting the pain run its course.

He tried biting the side of his cheek to distract him from the pain, but his gums didn't provide efficient enough to do much.

As he kept his eyes open, taking as much concentration to maintain his labor, he felt tears well up in his eyes, and stream down his cheeks, again.

"~..."

It's been around 7 seconds.

"~..."

Feeling the edges of his eyes pulsing, his pupils started dilating, taking in more and more light. As he kept staring and staring, more and more light was being taken into his retinas. It didn't feel any better compared to his first try, but since he's gotten this far, he's couldn't afford to revert his progress.

Slowly, his vision swirled more, and more, deeper towards the center. In due time, his whole vision was a swirling mass of static.

His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.

He kept his eyes open until he felt as if he couldn't anymore, and then he blinked, letting his eyes rest once more.

He opened his eyes, once more, and...

"~...wuh..."

His vision pulsing, he found himself facing upwards, looking at a white ceiling, with a faint ringing in his ears.

"~mm..."

Bringing his hands from the sides of his body, he rubbed his eyes with his palms to clear the tears from his face.

When he took his hands away, he saw two things about them.

One, they were small.

'𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦...'

"~Whuhl..."

His mouth still didn't permit him to make coherent sentences, but his surprise could be seen in his facial expression, one could imagine. The hand looked stubby and wrinkly. as he curled his fingers forward, towards him, he saw that his fingernails were small, as well.

His hand looked like a child's.

It also looked about 3 shades too light.

Jordan was pretty dark-skinned, and he didn't get any lighter or darker with the sun either. The skin tone he saw on his hand was way too light, even if the latter were the case. It was a light olive-brown, with darker tints around the joints on his fingers.

"..."

As he was ogling his hands, a giant hand entered his view from the right, in a pointing motion.

He turned his head to the right, to look at where it came from, and saw a wall of grey brick. In front of the wall was the top half of a man. He looked darker than Jordan's hand but lighter than what Jordan remembered himself to be; Leaning closer to the darker side. He wore a brown overcoat, with a blue button-down underneath it. From what he saw, he had a black, medium-toned beard, shaped into a goatee style. Atop his beard was a wide, white smile. He had tight black curls in his hair, going down to the top of his ears. He had a single metal earring on his right ear, and he looked pretty young, maybe late 20's. His dark brown eyes sparkled as he glared into Jordan's eyes.

'𝘸𝘩𝘰...'

"~Huuu..."

Jordan dropped his eyes to look at his hands, which, after laying them to his sides, were resting on top of a dark-blue blanket, which was surrounding his body.

'𝘏𝘶𝘩...'

"~~~"

'...𝘏𝘮?'

He turned his eyes back towards the man by his side. He could see his mouth moving, but nothing came out.

"~~"

Jordan looked up and down at the man's mouth and eyes, and realized that it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴 ears that were the problem.

Jordan, without breaking eye contact with the man, moved his right hand next to his head and picked his ear. The subtle ringing he was hearing until then dissipated, like something draining from the inside.

He did the same thing to the other ear.

'𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺?'

"~Whaa de..?"

Jordan looked down at his mouth, as he heard exactly how bad his speech sounded. His voice sounded way too high-pitched to what he was used to.

"A boy, very soft eyes. Very curious, his eyes move everywhere, no? Pretty quiet, though, like his mom! Hahaha..."

...

'𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮?'

Jordan narrowed his eyes at the man's words.

"...Don't you agree?"

"ughh, I'm glad... You're able... to speak so... easily..."

From his right side, Jordan felt vibrations travel through his body, making him jump. He turned his head and saw where the second, exasperated, voice came from.

Directly left of him, was soft flesh, the same tone as his hand. It was a chest, exposed, rising up and down with breaths that almost sounded strained. Over the shoulders was a white robe. It looked pretty damp with sweat.

As he tilted his neck higher, Jordan saw the face of a woman, with a serious presence to herself. She had wavy black hair down to her shoulders, and a small jawline. Her face was tilted upwards, in exhaustion.

She brought her face downwards, her hair swaying with the movement, and peered at Jordan, with tired, grey eyes.

"..."

Yet still, even with such fatigue, she still found herself to produce a weary, yet genuine smile upon looking at Jordan.

"At least he doesn't seem to be a crier..."

"Ah, strong and silent!"

"...Something like that, yes."

The reason Jordan was so quiet was that he didn't know what was going on.

'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬...'

His face scrunched up as he looked between the man and the woman.

"Guess he really is your son, huh?"

The man spoke out towards the woman. She replied promptly.

"Better than...too loud..."

She still sounded tired.

"...You were right about the eyes...guess he's your son, too..."

Jordan saw the pair staring at his face.

"~Mmaah..."

''𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯?' 𝘚𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥... 𝘎𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦... 𝘕𝘰, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴... 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴...'

Jordan looked back at the attire of the man to his right.

'...𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵...'

"Well, a silent child is usually a bad sign, but..."

'...?'

Jordan turned left, to see where the third, deeper voice came from, only to see his mother.

Then, a man dressed in a white coat appeared from behind her. In his hand was something that looked like some kind of miniature bolt cutter.

'...'

At the end of it, there was no blade, however, but a cup, that looked like a shot glass.

The man walked in front of Jordan and knelt down. He pulled the blanket off of Jordan's chest.

'...𝘩𝘶𝘩.'

As Jordan thought, his chest was one of a newborn as well.

The man placed the device onto Jordan's chest and put the other two ends into his ears.

Jordan held his breath.

"..."

The man looked into Jordan's eyes, from the downward position he was in. He could see he had an old-timey black mustache and a slicked-back corporate haircut. As he looked at Jordan, he breathed in, and exhaled, audibly.

Jordan repeated the action.

...

"...Yup! perfectly normal. Just a bit quiet. Lucky you, Miss Renée, you'll be able to get enough sleep!"

As he got up from his knee, he smiled at the woman who was holding Jordan as he walked out of his sight, once more.

'...𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?'

Jordan looked down at his chest and placed his hand over his heart.

'...𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘦?'

...

'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭...'

"Here, look for yourself."

The man with the white coat walked back over, with a handheld mirror in tote. He knelt, again, and held the mirror in front of Jordan, at an angle that allowed the woman next to him, 'Miss Renée,' to see his face.

"~Mmuh..."

As Jordan looked at the mirror, he was able to see his face. His skin tone matched his hands, and he had puffy eyes and soft cheeks. His hair was in a flat, wavy pattern, going down to his forehead. Everything about him seemed small. His irises were a cold, light grey, like the woman next to him.

He poked his cheeks with his finger.

'𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺...'

He looked to the left of him.

'𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯...'

He looked back at his hands.

'𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥?'

...

'𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵...'

"~..."

'𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵...'

"Heyyy little guy..."

The man on the left, his father, presumably, put his index finger in front of Jordan's face once more. He seemed to be smiling more than before.

"~Aaam."

Jordan ignored it, again.

"Aww... Come on..."

At this point, the man was poking Jordan's cheek.

Everyone else in the room watched on in silence.

...

"...Well, in a couple of hours, you three should be good enough to head back home. Everything's been cleaned up and dealt with, so there's not much else for us to do, other than making sure that you're good to leave. I'll bring over the wheelchair when you ask."

The man in a white coat, who Jordan figured was some kind of doctor, said this, as he walked out of the room.

He abruptly stopped in the doorway.

"...And remember to feed him in due time. Fetch me if you need me, sir."

And with that he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

The man's finger never left Jordan's cheek.

"Well, you heard him... uhh... Do we have a name?"

The mother, in the middle of explaining something to Jordan, was sidetracked by the notion of a name.

"Ehh, we can figure it out at home, eh? What about... 'Marc' for now?"

The father replied, somewhat uneasily, and came up with a placeholder.

"...'Marc'... I like it. We can keep it as that, don't you think?"

"Really? Marc was my first choice, so I'm good."

The pair came to an agreement almost immediately.

...

'𝘐'𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤.'

And so did Jordan.

...Or 'Marc.'

He was starting to piece together as many context clues as he could, through the eyes of a newborn.

"...And what about his last name?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...That one we can figure out at home."

The Mother cut the conversation short.

...

"...Anyways, 'Marc,' you heard the doctor... Eat up."

'...𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰-'

She nudged 'Marc's' cheek into her bare breast.

It felt really warm compared to everything else around him.

'...'

He more or less got used to the body he was in, within the short time allotted to him. He no longer gagged when he felt his lack of teeth, and he was at least able to open and close his miniature hands. He wasn't sure if he could be completely okay with the notion of being treated like a child, though.

He stared for a few seconds as if he was wondering if he should actually do it or not.

...

'...𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳...'

He grabbed it with both hands, like a hamburger, and put it in his mouth.

"~Ahhmm."

'...'

****************************************************************************************************

Marc lay on his back, in his simple, wooden crib.

In his crib, he would probably be able to see his parents in the bed beside him, but the lights were off, so he couldn't see anything that wasn't a few inches in front of him, and since he was in a crib, that wasn't much. else other than his hand. He's been there for about an hour by now.

"~..."

Marc let out a deep sigh as he clenched, and unclenched his fist in front of his face.

When he thought about the recent events that have occurred in the short time since he's been...

...

Well, born, I guess...

...have been extremely interesting, to say the least.

He thought about the moment he left the clinic, where he was born. Of course, neither of his parents found it crucial to explain anything to the 'newborn,' so he's been out of the loop. On the way home, however, he saw several things that brought him enjoyment.

As he was in his mother's arms (and she in a wheelchair, most likely from her recent birth) he was able to feel the stone path below him cause a bumpy road under the wheels.

As he looked around, he found that he and his family were on a sidewalk, and there was a road to the left of him, filled with an assortment of horse-drawn carriages.

He could feel the warm air on his face, as he was being cradled by his mother, along with the occasional cool breeze, which he didn't personally enjoy too much. Feeling his mother caress his forehead became routine, as they walked home. She enjoyed being able to feel Marc as a living, breathing human.

The sounds of the world were everywhere around him. The hoofs on the stones, the conversations of the people walking by them, the distant chimes of bells, coming from somewhere he couldn't even imagine. The voice of his father, as he spoke with his mother, assuring her that they were close to their destination. The chirping song of birds flying above, occasionally breaking through the loud foreground, and he was sure he heard a puppy of some sort barking, somewhere farther than he could determine. Everything that would inspire someone to know that they were surrounded by life.

Most of all, he was appalled by what he could see.

He was able to see the bright, beautiful sunset, tinting the ground in front of him orange, and the colorful flowers that lined the windowsills, positioned under the wooden roofs of the mortared grey buildings. The cloudy sky, with wispy clouds as far as the sky could stretch, and the colorful birds, from which the aforementioned songs came from. Seeing people walk by in their often drab, yet sometimes colorful clothing also provided a bittersweet catharsis to his mind, and a sense of envy, wanting to stand up and walk for himself.

Seeing everything that he saw was quite the experience for a newborn.

'Experiencing' at all was something that 'Jordan' himself had to be thankful for.

He thought about all the ill-fated events that have happened to him before he was even born. The soul-crushing pain that he felt as his physical body was destroyed before his eyes, the empty existence he was confined to, forced to make a decision he wasn't sure of, and the somber cold he felt through it all were things he didn't want to experience again. Not for one moment more.

...

'𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦...'

...

"~..."

Marc yawned deeply and slowly dozed off.