Limitless: New Dawn

Arthur Sully's world was defined by the grind of routine. The sun rose and set over the quiet streets of Andorham, a coastal town too small to be significant but too large to be close-knit. 

He worked at a scrap metal yard, where rusted memories of machines long past piled high, each piece waiting for its turn to be crushed, melted, and reborn. But Arthur had always felt like one of the forgotten scraps, just another cog in an unfeeling system.

At twenty-seven, he had little to show for his years. He had no family to speak of, no grand aspirations, and certainly no dreams of heroism. During his childhood the orphanage he was at was shut down when he was 12 years old. 

He lost his chance to study even though he was a curious lad and had to beg in the streets to fill his stomach. So he started to scrap for books and newspapers from any place he got a chance.

As he grew older his days were spent hauling, sorting, and cataloging metal, mundane, grueling work that left his muscles aching and his mind numb. Yet, there was a stubborn spark inside him, a restless voice that whispered in the quiet hours: You're meant for more than this.

Arthur's evenings were his own. He would retreat to his cramped one-bedroom apartment, where stacks of books on a wide range of topics from biology, chemistry, mathematics, physics, and politics were cluttered everywhere. 

The fascination had started in childhood, sparked by an old biology textbook he had found in his orphanage. The idea that creatures could change, adapt, and thrive under the harshest conditions resonated deeply with him.

"If only I could go to a school," he often mused aloud, flipping through pages late into the night. To get a good job one had to have a degree, which he was deprived of during his younger days.

But in Andorham, ambition was a dangerous luxury. The town's economy thrived on its scrap yards and factories, and Arthur's co-workers often mocked his intellectual pursuits. "Studying isn't going to make that crane work any faster," his boss, a gruff man named Carter, had grumbled more than once.

One evening, while Arthur was elbow-deep in rusted car parts, his coworker Frank leaned against a stack of pipes nearby. "You're always reading about all that science junk, Sully. What's it even for? You planning to mutate yourself outta this place?" Frank chuckled, lighting a cigarette.

Arthur gave a dry smile, wiping grease off his hands. "Maybe I'll mutate into something who doesn't have to listen to your jokes anymore."

Frank laughed, but there was a hint of envy in his eyes. Arthur's quiet persistence in self-education was an anomaly in the yard. Most of the men had resigned themselves to lives spent among the scrap, but Arthur's books hinted at a world beyond the rusted fences.

Arthur's frustration simmered beneath a layer of resigned acceptance. He wanted to leave, to explore the world beyond Andorham, to find something worth fighting for, but the weight of routine kept him tethered. It wasn't that he lacked courage; it was that he lacked direction, as no one is there to guide him to the correct path he thought about.

The turning point came on a cold, rain-slicked evening. Arthur was closing up the yard, his jacket soaked through, the metal under his boots slick and treacherous. The storm had rolled in fast, and thunder growled in the distance like an angry beast. As he locked the main gate, his eyes caught a glint of something unusual amid the piles of scrap.

Curiosity had always been his weakness. Leaving his bag by the gate, he picked his way through the yard, the rain pelting down harder with each step. 

There, half-buried under sheets of corroded iron, was a strange fist sized spherical, metallic object that didn't belong among the jagged, rusted edges of the scrap. It pulsed faintly with a dark hue, as if alive, its surface unmarred by rust or time.

"What the hell is this?" Arthur muttered, kneeling beside it. He hesitated, glancing around the yard. It was empty save for the relentless rain. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the object.

A sudden jolt shot through him, sharp and electric, as if the object had sensed his touch. "Ah!" he gasped, stumbling back. His vision blurred, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to dissolve into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. 

He heard whispers, fragments of voices in a language he couldn't understand, and saw fleeting images of vast cosmos within darkness.

When he came to, the object was gone. He sat back on his heels, drenched and shivering, his heart hammering in his chest. The scrapyard was quiet except for the patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. 

'Did I imagine it? A hallucination brought on by exhaustion and stress?' He thought

"Arthur! You're still out here?" Frank's voice cut through the rain. He was standing at the gate, his silhouette outlined by the glow of a distant streetlamp.

Arthur shook himself and got to his feet. "Yeah. Just… thought I saw something."

Frank squinted at him. "You're soaked. Come on, Carter'll have your head if you get sick and miss a shift."

Arthur nodded, trudging back to the gate. As they walked together toward the bus stop, Arthur kept glancing back at the yard, half-expecting the strange object to reappear.

"You're acting weird, Sully," Frank said, taking a drag from his cigarette. "You're not getting ideas about leaving town, are you?"

Arthur gave a noncommittal grunt. "Maybe I am."

Frank snorted. "Where would you even go? The city? They'd eat you alive there."

'Are there dinosaurs or something in the city?'Arthur thought jokingly but didn't respond. 

By the time he stumbled back to his apartment, soaked and dazed, Arthur couldn't help but grumble and thought he had had enough with this life. But for now, though, Arthur Sully slept, oblivious to the storm brewing both within and beyond him.

...

A month passed, and the strange encounter with the object faded into the recesses of Arthur's memory. Life returned to its monotonous rhythm, though a subtle unease lingered within him. 

He found himself staring at the scrapyard's piles of metal with a distant, unfocused gaze, as if searching for something, a purpose that eluded him.

He so wanted to get out of this godforsaken place and go to a city to start a new life. But he reigned in his thoughts.

'I still need to save a bit more money' He thought.

On a particularly gray afternoon, Arthur was tasked with dismantling a collapsed crane, its skeletal frame looming like a fallen titan amidst the scrap. "Careful with that support beam," Carter barked from the office window. "One wrong move, and you'll be buried under a mountain of junk."

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his gloves. "Yeah, yeah. I got it." He muttered under his breath, frustrated by Carter's constant micromanagement. Frank was nearby, operating the crane, its claw dangling precariously over the wreckage.

The day dragged on, the air heavy with the smell of rust and grease. Arthur's muscles ached as he worked the torch, cutting through the steel beams that held the crane's structure together. He paused to catch his breath, leaning on the torch and staring up at the gray sky.

"This job'll kill me one day," he joked to himself, shaking his head.

As the final support beam gave way, the crane's upper section shifted, which should not have happened as it was held together by a gantry crane. A low groan of stressed metal filled the air, and Arthur's instincts screamed at him to move. 

"Frank! Move the claw!" he shouted, and tried to jump sideways, but it was too late.

With a deafening crash, the structure came down, a cascade of twisted steel and debris raining down upon him. 

Pain didn't come immediately due to adrenaline rush, he fell into cold numbness. Then came the pain his world tilted, his vision swimming as he lay pinned beneath the wreckage.

"Arthur! Arthur, hang on!" Frank's voice was distant, panicked. The sound of metal scraping against metal and frantic footsteps reached him, but Arthur's focus wavered. His breaths came shallow, each one a struggle.

'So this is it', he thought. 'This is how it ends.'

As darkness encroached, he felt an inexplicable pull, as if his very soul was being wrenched from his body. The pain faded entirely, replaced by a sensation of weightlessness. When he opened his eyes, the scrapyard was gone.

...…

After what felt like ages Arthur regained his consciousness, he felt like he was floating in space.

After an unknown period of time a white orb (Arthur's soul) was seen drifting in an endless void. Arthur slowly regained his consciousness.

'What the!!!' he exclaimed loudly, but no words left his mouth. He tried to move his body but figured he couldn't.

'Where am I?' He felt he was floating in space, and after recovering from the shock of dying tried to feel if his body was intact or not. He was surprised to see that he was nothing but a floating mass of energy in an orb shape.

He tried to look around and saw something magnificent, a gigantic black orb with a golden and silver ring around it like the photon ring of a black hole distorting space around it.

He felt like an ant in front of the sun. Then he felt himself plunging into the gigantic orb.

After that he lost all of his remaining senses, when he woke up he was in a space with a multicoloured river like structure in front of him, but somehow he was able to see and feel his body. And it was pitch black in colour with golden and silver veins running around his body.

'How weird, is this normal? Is this the process one goes through after dying?'

'Is that what people called the river of reincarnation? Am I going to reincarnate?' He thought while being sucked in the river.

He could see white orb-like objects the size of ping-pong balls floating in the river.

'Maybe these orbs are the souls of people, but why is my soul different from them?'

After what felt like a long time he felt like he was free falling from the sky and lost his consciousness.

...

Arthur groggily opened his eyes, and blinked against the harsh light filtering through a dense canopy of alien foliage. The sky above was a strange, swirling blend of colors, vivid greens, purples, and golds, and the air buzzed with unfamiliar sounds. 

He sat up abruptly, his heart racing. Around him, towering trees with bioluminescent vines stretched toward the heavens, their leaves glowing faintly in the dim light.

"What the… where am I?" Arthur's voice cracked, echoing in the vast silence. He scrambled to his feet, his hands trembling as he took in his surroundings. The ground beneath him was covered in moss that shimmered like crushed gemstones, and strange, insect-like creatures skittered across it.

This isn't real. This can't be real. He pinched his arm, the sharp sting confirming his fears.

"What...? I… I transmigrated?" he muttered in question, while seeing his body exactly the same as before he died. 

Standing at 5'9" with deep-set black eyes, sharp and perceptive. His fair complexion bore a faint, healthy glow, complementing his well-defined features that, while not strikingly handsome, held a certain allure-one that lingered in the mind of people meeting him. 

There was a balance to him, a harmony between modesty and appeal, that drew people in without him even trying.

As he was trying to gather himself, he was disturbed by a distant roar that echoed through the forest, low and guttural. Arthur froze, his breath catching in his throat. The sound was unlike anything he had ever heard, primal and menacing, a predator's call.

"Oh, come on," he whispered, backing away from the direction of the noise. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt leaden, rooted to the spot by fear. A shadow moved among the trees, too large and fast to be anything harmless.

The creature emerged, its form both alien and terrifying. It stood on four legs, its sleek, scaled body rippling with muscle. Glowing yellow eyes locked onto Arthur, and a maw filled with serrated teeth curled into what could only be described as a predatory grin.

Arthur's survival instincts finally kicked in. He turned and bolted, his boots slipping on the mossy ground as he ran deeper into the forest. Branches whipped at his face, and his lungs burned with exertion, but the sound of the creature's pursuit was relentless. It crashed through the undergrowth, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

"Why is this happening?!" Arthur shouted, his voice hoarse. His mind raced, grasping for any explanation, any solution. He didn't want to die after just transmigrating. He ducked under a low-hanging branch, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. 'I can't die here. Not like this'.

A sudden root caught his foot, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pain shot through his ankle as he tried to scramble to his feet, but it was too late. The creature loomed over him, its glowing eyes filled with predatory glee.

"No! Get away!" Arthur screamed, throwing a handful of moss at its face in a desperate, futile attempt to defend himself. The monster's maw opened wide, and Arthur's final thought before the darkness consumed him was a bitter realization:

'Sh*t…!!!'

The forest fell silent once more, the only trace of Arthur's scream, his blood painting the moss where he had fallen.

***