Chapter 2

Michael's head was spinning as he heard a voice, distant and unascertained, commanding in fragments. "Now listen... I want you to... When a... You got that... Quickly... Be..." The voice trailed off into the recesses of his mind, leaving behind a trail of memories—memories that he didn't recognise.

As consciousness clawed its way back, another voice, warm and concerned, broke through the haze. "You feeling alright, kid?" it asked.

Michael's eyes fluttered open, and the blur of white slowly took the shape of a hospital room. "Uhh, what the heck happened?" he managed to croak out.

"You collapsed right in front of our hospital," the figure replied, a silhouette against the bright lights.

Confusion etched Michael's face as he pieced together his last moments of awareness. "Did I just teleport to a different universe?" The thought was ludicrous, yet nothing else made sense.

His panic rose as another realization hit him. "Wait, how can we understand each other?" he blurted out, his heart racing.

"Relax, kid. I just implanted a universal translation device in your head," the doctor said, nonchalantly.

Michael's gaze finally settled on the doctor, and what he saw defied all logic—two heads, three arms, and an air of impatience. "Every now and then, bumpkins like you show up here without translation module implants. How do you expect to make it in the big cities? You're just a nuisance," the doctor ranted.

"Shut it, will ya? You're always complaining," the larger head interjected. "Hi, my name's Don, and this here is Don. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Michael," he replied, his grip on 'common sense' slipping away.

"I noticed you don't have an identification sheet with you," the larger Don observed. "You're not one of those escapees, are you?"

"Escapee?" Michael echoed, clueless.

"I'm just from a different star system, that's all," he answered, trying to sound casual.

"Really?" the smaller head pressed, skepticism lacing its tone.

"Yeah, I'm just your average human," Michael added, instantly regretting his words as the mood changed to his remark.

The room fell silent. "Human, you said?" the larger head finally broke the silence.

"...No. I said Yuman, you must have heard wrong," Michael stammered, his nerves fraying.

"You act like we'll eat you, kid," the smaller head chuckled. "Though humans are hard to come by these days, it doesn't mean you should fear us though."

"Yeah, look at him, his heart rate is all over the place. Kinda reminds me of our sister's bad choices in life," the smaller head mused as it could hear Michael's heart beating faster from his nervousness.

"Leave Donna out of this," the larger head snapped.

"Anyway, where were we? Right, humans are like rare minerals here, kid, because of their genetic makeup," the larger head explained.

"And how does that work?" Michael inquired, eyeing the door, ready to bolt.

"Well, long story short, some beings in this universe carry special powers. Many races have tried to attain these powers by breeding with them or creating serums to replicate their powers. But an important element for these serums is human DNA. As humans learned this, most chose to empower themselves, making pure humans rare. The galactic government now offers protection and compensation for their blood," the larger head concluded.

Michael's thoughts were a whirlwind as the implications of the doctor's words sank in. "Enough about that. You do know what this means, right?" the smaller head interjected, breaking into his reverie.

"What does it mean?" Michael inquired, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

"It means we can both benefit from this situation. You owe me for the translation module, and you don't have cash or identification on you," the smaller head explained with a hint of exasperation.

"So?" Michael prodded, still not grasping the full picture.

"Are all humans this dense?" the smaller head muttered under its breath. "What Don is trying to say is that we'd like to draw some of your blood," the bigger head clarified.

"What!?" Michael recoiled, his muscles tensing at the thought.

"From the way you mentioned it, it sounded like human blood is quite valuable," Michael countered, trying to hide his nervousness.

"I told you, you talk too much," the smaller head scolded the bigger one.

"Let's make a deal," the smaller head proposed, leaning in closer. "I'll pay you a few credits for it."

"How much are we talking about?" Michael asked, his interest piqued.

"I'll give you three hundred thousand credits. How's that?" the smaller head offered, a sly grin spreading across its face.

"Deal!" Michael exclaimed, barely concealing his excitement. He had just struck what seemed like the bargain of a lifetime, trading a small vial of his blood for a fortune. Little did he know, in this vast and unfamiliar universe, the value of 'human' was far greater than he could ever imagine.