It was as if common sense and the world around him was shattered by the strike of the bat. When he looked up he found that he was in a strange land, a strange world that was the town he was stranded in, and yet not as well. Mouth gaping like a fish, he found himself at a loss of words as he found himself in a circle with a group of strangers.

"Hua-buwah?"

His eyes glanced over at the others as he moved to pick his bat back up into his hands, cradling it in his arms as if it were a pillar of stability that would keep him safe amidst these strangers and this even stranger phenomena. It was a bit frightening, although frankly more bewildering. He sat there, silent, eyes locking onto the girl that spoke as an authority when she began to explain the situation. His agape mouth only opened further, making the man look as though he were mimicking a fish that spotted a large piece of bait.

A fight to the death.

A fight where his life was at risk, a fight where he would have to murder to survive. He should say something, he should feel outraged, he should feel angry. That was what would be normal, that was what would be sensible.

He rose up.

Even if he accepted it there were many questions that should be asked. The why, the how. Even if it was a question in vain such a set up should still be questioned.

The red sky, the strange words and powers that he was forced to be aware of and given?.. no, not given. They were not something given by some whim, handed down by some mandate of heaven or some twisted miracle of god. But to acknowledge that they were part of him...
Was it that he was destined for such a misfortune from the beginning?

He tightened his grip on the toy bat in his hand. The notion made him want to scream. Yet he felt more alive with that rage than he had in those days after the accident.

He wanted to go back. Now there was a chance.

He took in a breath and tried to calm some twitching fingers. His palms were sweaty, and his lungs choked up for a moment, his words coming out raspy and a bit choked.

"When do we begin?"

The cause of his body's reaction was not a revulsion, of a horror or fear. It as of desire, of excitement. A slight giddiness filled his heart, bubbling through his veins and causing him to hiccup. A person's inner desire, a core desire that was to be manifested and become one's strength. A strength that was born of a want and was then used to pursue its fulfillment. He could not decide if it was a crude or a beautiful notion. But he could not deny that he had such a desire. Yes, it was all too clear.

For that he'd easily kill a few strangers, perhaps even the ones he knew so long ago. Yet that would be a strange, as weren't they part of the life he'd want to reclaim? Ah what a contradiction, but such a contradiction would not stop him anyway. It didn't matter what, or who. He'd be happy to kill, he'd be happy as long as he won. He wanted to go back, back to where he belonged and what he was.

His eyes began to blur and he felt a heat spread from his eyes, traveling through his temples and spreading out to down to his chin and up to his forehead. Ah, he was close to crying. To think that miracles could exist. Even one stained in blood was beautiful.

The competitors who were presented with the same opportunity, that he would kill or be killed by faded from his ground, and even as his eyes continued to stare at the girl he only saw the memories of the past that flashed through his mind. Whether the others would see him as a frightened and feeble man or not he did not care.