Chapter Text
The real world slammed into him like a sack of bricks.
His entire body convulsed and thrashed on whatever surface he was lying on. His nerves were on fire. His core was beating at a tempo he didn’t even think possible. He felt like he was burning up and freezing at the same time. The wind felt like sandpaper on any of his exposed flesh, which only made him feel more overwhelmed. What few thoughts he had were reduced to static white noise.
The world was spinning. His head was spinning. His vision was spinning.
His body flipped on its own and he found himself retching.
Inky black poured from his mouth and stained the sand beneath him. He dug his fingers into the soft earth, using the sensation to help ground him. His arms trembled, struggling to hold up his weight as he continued to get sick to his stomach.
Once the contents of his insides were painting the beach, the static clouding his mind began to lift. The smell of the sea and the sound of waves faded into his perception. The sand between his fingers made a lot more sense suddenly. Something about his hands were nagging him, and it took his sluggish brain a moment to register what his eyes were seeing.
His hands were grey.
He was totally powered down, which would explain why he felt so drained. What had even happened to make him like this?
(Power overflowing. Raw energy being pumped straight into his skull. Pain consumed him as his insides melted into sludge and his body became a chrysalis and then—)
A flash of pain caused him to cringe. The memories that had appeared vanished just as quickly as they arrived, making him dizzy. He hissed and a hand flew up to rub at the aching spot on the top of his head.
His fingers ran across a crack. Still fresh. Still healing over. Still hurting. Now, what in the world could have caused that? It felt like it ran deep and his hide was usually thick enough to prevent serious damage like this.
He took a steadying breath in order to fight off another wave of nausea. Forcing his hands into his lap to prevent himself from picking at the wound, he tried to focus on getting his head on straight.
Maybe trying to remember everything at the same time had been a bad idea. One thing at a time then…
His name was Blixer. He had been sealed away like the rest of his kind for who knows how long. His prison had been stuck miles underground in a vast cavern that a colony of spiders called home. Something had happened to the seal of his Stage; it broke, and he was free. He would have thought finally being free would be a happy memory, but the vision in his head was nothing but red. Something had really ticked him off, but he couldn’t remember what exactly had gotten him so riled up. He remembered going on a rampage as he ascended to the surface. And then—
His head hurt again. Maybe it was time to stop thinking about the past for the time being and focus on the present.
Blixer shielded his eyes against the bright rays of the sun as he surveyed his surroundings. A vast expanse of blue was laid out before him. Just seeing the color made him want to vomit again so he turned his back to the sea and began a full lap of the island he had found himself on. The island itself was comically tiny. A few trees and bushes dotted the space, and large chunks of faded pink carapace - (don’t think about it) - had washed up on the beach. As he picked his way through this miniscule untamed wilderness, he tried to hunt for any clues as to what had happened and why he was here, only to come up empty. There were no other signs of life, no Light Pieces to eat, and no visible way of getting back to the main archipelago either.
Blixer was stranded.
A bitter laugh escaped his throat as an unfamiliar sense of irony hit him. He wasn’t sure why it was funny, but the emotion bubbled out of him regardless.
( The pipsqueak was powerless. A canon came to mind and his newfound power made that image a reality. The tiny pest was blasted far far away where he never had to see it again—)
The flash of memory was quickly forgotten as his injury throbbed. Shaking off the pain from his growing headache, Blixer took stock of the issue at hand.
He had been powered down. Actually, now that he took a moment to compare his own height to the trees, he’d even say he was much smaller than he was supposed to be in this form… That couldn’t possibly be right. It was more likely the trees on this island were simply… larger than average. And the ground was simply closer.
Yeah.
Despite his body’s protests, Blixer walked a whole circle around the island. Just to make sure he didn’t miss anything important. Unfortunately, his earlier assessment of this place being totally empty seemed correct.
As inconvenient as his situation was, he would make the best of it. If he could figure out a way of knocking down the trees, he could make a raft. Maybe he could fashion a piece of broken carapace into an axe and use that. What would he do after escaping? That… was hard to say.
He looked down at his small grey hands and scowled.
First priority, he decided, would be to find some Light to consume and get back to his normal form. A Piece from the Tree of Life would be preferable, but in an emergency like this maybe he could find—
A crash of thunder from above startled him from his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed the sky getting darker. The clouds opened up and a thick sheet of rain poured down onto Blixer, soaking him within seconds.
Great. Just what he needed. As if this day wasn’t bad enough, it just had to get worse. Why did the universe hate him? What did he do to deserve this?
(A lot, actually.)
He darted for the nearest form of cover; a chunk of carapace half buried in the sand and curved just enough to act as a makeshift shelter.
He scrambled under the shell with the same desperate energy of a spooked kitten. After a moment to catch his breath, Blixer removed his oversized ratty poncho to wring it out. A string of curses poured from his mouth at his rotten luck. Stupid rain. Stupid island. Stupid whatever got him stranded on this island. The minute he got back to normal he was going to smash everything to pieces over and over and over again—!
“AGH!” Blixer dropped his poncho in the sand and held his head with both hands as pain once more wracked his body. Why did it keep doing that?! It was starting to piss him off.
Besides, being angry was easier than being scared. Being angry helped ward off the settling dread in his gut as the reality of his situation sank in. Being angry was better than feeling the unease the gaping hole in his memories left him with. He grabbed onto that familiar comforting feeling like a lifeline.
The pain was replaced by exhaustion as the consequences of moving around so much after barely escaping death hit him. What little energy Blixer had managed to regain was suddenly spent and he found his eyes closing of their own accord.
“No!” He jolted up and shook his head to try to regain his wits. He couldn’t sleep. Not in this form. Not in this place. He was helpless and he was no longer in the safety of a Stage. As much as he hated being sealed away, it did provide the benefit of protection from weather hazards.
Unfortunately, his body didn’t seem to want to listen to him and once more he began to doze off. His eyelids felt heavier every second, and no amount of shaking or face-slapping was doing the trick. He had never felt so drained. He had never felt so hungry. Without any Light Pieces to consume, his body was running on fumes. What little energy he had gained from his earlier “nap” was all but spent during his earlier exploration of the island.
Blixer wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him or not, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of bright blue bobbing in the violent waves.
His world went sideways and his vision went dark.