— somewhere in the united states, september 2006

It was a bleak ending. Looking up at a starless ceiling until the darkness took hold of him. It was not a cold or dreadful feeling, it was more like greeting an old friend and then this distinct tingling in his soul that told him this was not the end yet.

He braced himself within that darkness, holding on to his thoughts with an iron grip. Then his whole world shook, making him feel sick. For a moment, his consciousness faded into nothingness, like a candle snuffed out by the wind.

And when he opened his eyes, new sensations flooded his mind and body. Voices and sounds reached his sensitive eardrums, he felt shivering, cold, wet and generally uncomfortable.

His eyes opened slowly, and he only just realized that some of those nerve-wracking sounds were coming from his own mouth.

He was subconsciously crying, lamenting his current state and the fragility of his mental fortitude at the moment. Of course, it wasn't something unexpected; it wasn't something he hadn't experienced before.

All he could do was let his natural instincts subside and calm down as he was wrapped in a towel and passed from one person to the next.

His understanding of the world around him was still incomplete. It took him days to reach a point where he could understand what others were saying.

His mind had yet to adapt to this new body, this new environment and these new faces around him. Time was of the essence - he needed every second of it.

"Isaac," he heard a female voice and the face of a beautiful brown-haired woman came into view. She looked happy and her green eyes almost sparkled as she looked down at him.

How long has it been since he started to adjust to this new life? Was Isaac his name?

He could hardly gather his thoughts with this barely developed brain. He felt like a second mind trapped in an uncontrollable body. The only time he could think clearly was when he withdrew and fell back into his deepest thoughts, close to a meditative state.

As soon as he tried to reach out and connect with his physical reality, he felt shaken. As if he was in the middle of a car crash.

All he could gather was that this woman was his mother. The man with the auburn hair, who also came into view at that moment, as if calling to him, seemed to be his father.

They looked normal, even loving. Like a real family. A suitable Nest for him to live in. But that didn't mean he had to have a deeper relationship with any of them.

Nor could he confirm if he was their only child or if there were more crawling around. At least they seemed to live in the States, so his soul didn't have to travel far to find a new body.

With an inner sigh, he laughed in response to his mother, who happily poked his cheeks as if he were some kind of stress ball. He certainly wasn't amused, but the sluggish drowsiness he seemed to be subjected to nonstop had him in its tight grip.

'Oh well, I can complain about all that later,' he thought. If it weren't for this sleepiness, he would have had to endure so much more boredom and annoyance.

It took him a whole year to gather enough information to know his full name. Isaac Layer he was now called. A name he still had to get used to. His father's name was Chris, though he did not know if that was his full name or just an abbreviation.

His mother, Ellen, would never call him anything else, and there wasn't enough going on to tell what others might call him in a more serious context. He was far too lethargic at that point to retain much information.

By the time his second and third birthdays came around, things had changed. He walked around the house, read books he could get his hands on, watched the news while the TV was on, and even started talking.

This couple always engaged in some idiotic behavior, calling him cute or a genius, though he had made sure to keep a relatively low score so it was clear they were just bullshitting.

Seriously, he didn't even try to get up off the floor until he was two years old. Before that, he spent most of his time sleeping. He thought sleeping was a smart thing to do. He would have to work enough in this new life anyway.

On the other hand, it wasn't that exciting to just passively watch everything that went on. Don't get him wrong, he didn't like to do a lot of unnecessary work, and he also didn't like having to deal with people as well.

But lying there - letting the world happen to him - wasn't exactly his cup of tea either. He could only sigh and bear with it. Soon he would be four years old.

— seattle, washington, september 2010

He had been expecting it, even though he didn't want it to happen. His freedom was just around the corner and a new life would lie ahead of him. Everything was going as it should. It was a comforting fact.

But this day, the day of his fourth birthday, made him realize one thing: Even when you are old, there will always come a time when you understand how vast the realm of possibilities can be.

The possibility that, even though he was now four years old, he still might not have complete freedom in his own body, making him feel even more like a prisoner.

Or the possibility that this time, too, he might not have the leisure to live a perfectly uneventful life.

In front of him was their large dining table, covered with a white cloth and laden with food, plates and drinks. Guests - neighbors and colleagues of his parents - were gathered around it, looking at him in anticipation.

One of the guests reached out and lit exactly four candles on one of the various delicacies piled on the table: A cake with a pale blue frosting and the words "Happy Birthday, Isaac" written on it in sugar, though they were unaware that he was already literate. It seemed so unnecessary.

There were people with cameras, trying to catch the exact moment when he finally blew out the flames after making his wish. Some were grinning and tapping their feet in anticipation, like a bunch of rabbits.

It was fascinating behavior in his eyes, but a bit too much. And as if that wasn't enough noise to stress him out, there were suddenly several loud thuds in the background that could be heard from outside the window.

It had been noisy for a while now, but they lived in the middle of a city, so there was nothing they could do about it.

Perplexed, the audience's attention was drawn to what sounded like bombs exploding nearby. Sure enough, only a beat later, the entire house shook in short tremors, causing most of the adults to lose their footing and stagger to a chair or directly to the floor. It might have been hidden under a fluffy carpet, but the fall was still painful and brought them back to reality after a brief stupor.

No one cared anymore as Isaac blew out the potential fire hazard before walking over to the row of windows himself. The usually bright dining room, filled with lively debate and laughter, had never felt so cold. Pulling aside the curtains, which were used to make the candles and decorations shine more beautifully, revealed a darkness they had never seen before.

It was as if something had ripped a hole in the air right above their city, in just those thirty minutes when they were not looking outside.

A hole connected to absolutely nothing; darkness and void. The blackness didn't shimmer, nor did it seem to have any texture. It was so dark that it swallowed the light and spat out an uncanny pressure in return.

There were the military. It was safe to assume that they were the ones making all that noise before, which must have been some kind of explosive.

Why was there no evacuation notice? Was it okay for them to just stay there? He was skeptical about what he saw. Some of the people around him even thought it must be a new movie being made. But could this be the truth?

He felt something from that hole and it was not a pleasant feeling. It felt... eerily familiar. What did it mean? At the same time, he could see a small group of people approaching the black hole on a fire truck ladder.

And as he watched them get close enough to touch it, they were swallowed whole.