1. Skydiving into a new life

In the dim light of dawn, Apollyon Seraphina blinked open eyes that felt utterly foreign, her gaze drifting aimlessly across a spartan room cloaked in shadows and unfamiliarity. The bed beneath her was a small island in an ocean of unknowns, hard and unwelcoming, its sheets coarse and abrasive against her skin. As she attempted to sit up, a wave of vertigo crashed over her, not merely from the physical disorientation of awakening in a strange place but from the profound, unsettling realization that her body was not as it should be. It was smaller, more delicate—a child's physique, yet not one she had ever inhabited in her previous life. Panic fluttered in her chest like a bird trapped within a cage, her heart racing as she struggled to stitch together the fragmented tapestry of her last memories.

She had been skydiving, the earth rushing up to greet her, the exhilaration of the descent igniting her veins with a fiery thrill. Then, an abrupt darkness, a cessation so sudden it felt like being jerked awake from a dream. Except, this was no dream. Apollyon Seraphina, the indefatigable thrill-seeker who had chased adrenaline highs across the globe, had met her end. And now, she found herself here, in this alien existence.

In this new world, stripped of her previous body's memories and experiences, Apollyon felt a chasm yawning open within her. She clutched at the sheets, desperate to anchor herself to this bewildering reality. The room was a stark, neglected space, its paint peeling in silent testament to neglect, and a single, grimy window permitted the first light of day to infiltrate the gloom. The only semblance of personal touch was a small, unadorned wooden dresser that stood like a silent sentinel by the door. She was alone, utterly and profoundly alone in a manner she had never experienced in her previous existence.

With a deep breath, Apollyon tentatively swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet barely touching the cold floor. She nearly tumbled forward, a startling reminder of her new, unfamiliar center of gravity. Grasping the bed frame for support, she took her first faltering steps, each movement a clumsy dance as she acclimated to her new body's proportions and balance.

'What happened? Why am I here?' The questions circled in her mind like vultures, each possibility more dizzying than the last. Her head spun, not just from the physical adjustment to her new stature but from the weight of the unknowns that lay ahead.

Turning her attention to the nearby bedside table, a glimmer of curiosity sparked within Apollyon despite the turmoil swirling inside her. Amidst the sparse furnishings and the room's overall neglect, an old hand mirror lay, its surface dulled by layers of dust as if it had been forgotten by time itself. With a mixture of trepidation and an inexplicable urge to understand her new reality, she reached for the mirror, her fingers brushing against its cool, metal frame. She wiped the surface clean with the hem of the coarse sheets, revealing a reflection that held the promise of answers yet also the potential for more questions.

As Apollyon gazed into the mirror, she was met with the sight of raven black hair that cascaded down to her shoulders in gentle waves, a stark contrast to the bare and unembellished room that confined her. Her hair framed a face that was unfamiliar yet compelling, marked by a striking heterochromia that captivated her attention. One of her eyes shimmered a brilliant diamond grey-blue, reminiscent of a stormy sea illuminated by a fleeting break in the clouds. The other eye was a gorgeous emerald green, deep and vibrant, evoking the lush heart of an ancient forest. The juxtaposition of these hues lent her an otherworldly appearance, as if she were a character stepped out of a tale of fantasy, now lost in a reality far removed from her own.

As Apollyon reached up to touch her cheek, her fingertips grazed the smooth, unfamiliar skin of her reflection. The sensation was surreal, a tangible confirmation of the profound transformation she had undergone. The face staring back at her, while beautiful in its unique way, bore no resemblance to the one she had known as her own in her previous life. This dissonance between her internal sense of self and her external appearance only deepened the mystery enveloping her new existence.

Despite the initial shock and disorientation, a spark of excitement flickered within her. The air of mystery that seemed to cling to her now, much like a cloak of possibilities, began to stir a familiar thrill in her heart. It was a sensation akin to the adrenaline rush she sought in her past life, but this time, it was not born of physical feats or death-defying escapades. Instead, it stemmed from the realization of being given a second chance, an opportunity to experience life anew, with all its unknown adventures and inevitable chaos.

With this thought, a sense of determination began to replace the initial panic and confusion. The prospect of navigating this new world, of discovering its secrets and her place within it, ignited a fire within her. This was her second try, a rare gift, and she felt a burgeoning eagerness to explore the limits of this new existence, to carve out a path that was wholly hers.

The newfound resolve in Apollyon's heart lent her movements a sense of purpose as she set the hand mirror down gently on the bedside table. The first rays of sunlight began to filter through the grimy window, casting a soft, golden light that seemed to breathe a whisper of warmth into the cold, stark room. She stood there for a moment, bathed in the light, allowing the reality of her situation to fully sink in. The world outside this room was vast and unknown, filled with endless possibilities and perils alike.

A deep breath steadied her nerves, and with a determined set to her shoulders, she approached the wooden dresser. The drawers creaked open, revealing a sparse selection of clothing that seemed as out of place as she felt. Selecting a simple, sturdy set of garments, she dressed quickly, her mind racing with plans and questions. 'Who am I now? What is this world I've awakened in?'

As she dressed, a plan began to form in her mind. The first order of business was to understand where she was, and who, if anyone, could provide her with answers. The thrill of embarking on this new adventure sparked a sense of excitement, a feeling she welcomed like an old friend. 'There's a whole new world out there, waiting for me to explore,' she thought, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Heading towards the door, she paused, hand on the knob, and took a deep breath. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and a hint of something else—perhaps the faint, lingering aroma of a world beyond these walls, filled with mysteries to unravel.

Opening the door, she stepped out into a narrow hallway, its walls adorned with peeling wallpaper and lit by the dim glow of flickering light bulbs. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by the soft sound of her footsteps as she began to explore.

As she walked, Apollyon's mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. 'This is it, a new beginning. A chance to do things differently, to live a life I've never imagined.' The excitement of the unknown propelled her forward, her heart beating a rhythmic cadence of anticipation and resolve.

Apollyon's tentative steps down the hallway were fueled by a blend of hope and determination. The anticipation of encountering others who could shed light on her situation was a beacon pulling her forward through the dimly lit corridor. However, what she found was not the welcoming committee of allies she might have envisioned, but rather a scene that would imprint itself deeply into her consciousness.

At the end of the hallway, a small group of children huddled together. Their eyes, wide with a fear that seemed to seep into the very air, flicked towards her. Their bodies were tense, as if prepared to flee at the slightest provocation. It was a tableau that pierced Apollyon's heart with a sharp pang of empathy; she recognized the look of fear, for it mirrored the uncertainty she herself felt. But there was more than just fear in their eyes; there was a trace of something else—recognition, perhaps, but of what kind, she couldn't immediately discern.

Before she could take a step towards them, to offer a word of comfort or inquiry, a voice shattered the fragile silence. The caretaker, an elderly woman whose countenance was etched with lines of severity and whose eyes bore the hard glint of unyielding authority, fixed her gaze upon Apollyon. The air seemed to thicken with tension as their eyes met, and then the woman's voice, laden with vitriol, broke through.

"Monster!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls, casting a pall over the already subdued atmosphere. "You bring nothing but trouble, a curse upon this house!"

The accusation was a physical blow to Apollyon, who stood frozen, shock and disbelief warring within her. She had expected confusion, perhaps wariness, but not this outright hostility and condemnation. The caretaker advanced, her movements fueled by a conviction that lent her strength beyond her years, and struck Apollyon. The impact sent a jolt of pain through her, but it was the betrayal of the expectation of kindness, of understanding, that truly wounded her.

As the caretaker continued to hurl obscenities, each word was a lash, stripping away the fledgling sense of belonging Apollyon might have hoped to find in this new world. The children watched, their expressions a mix of fear and pity, but none dared to intervene. The scene was a stark deviation from the adventure Apollyon had envisioned just moments before. Instead of answers and allies, she found accusation and assault, a clear message that she was not welcome here, that she was othered and ostracized.

Reeling from the physical and emotional assault, Apollyon's resolve hardened. She realized that the path ahead would not be one of easy answers or immediate acceptance. But within her, the core of who she was—Apollyon Seraphina, the adventurer, the seeker of thrills, the survivor—stirred. This encounter, though harrowing, would not define her. It was but the first of many challenges she would face and overcome.

With a dignity born of inner strength, she stepped back, her gaze sweeping over the caretaker and the children one last time. There would be no understanding here, no answers to the myriad questions that plagued her. But there would be other places, other people. This was but the beginning of her journey, not its end.