Naught to Null

There was a feeling... a feeling I had never experienced before.

The air surrounds me. No, it penetrates within me. A cold, damp sensation flows into my lungs, fills my chest, and then releases in a warm exhale. I was breathing. I... am I breathing?

I slowly moved my fingers. Every muscle responded as though it had been waiting for me, waiting for me to be here. I felt a steady pulse within my chest, like a machine working without me understanding its mechanics. The heart? Yes, that's what it's called. It pumped blood, carrying life to every cell of this body that... had become mine.

I had lived long as an idea, as words trapped between lines, but now? Now I am something else. Something alive.

I slowly moved my head, feeling the weight, the connection between me and the bones, between me and the body that had become my new home. Everything felt heavy, not just in weight, but in presence. To exist in this tangible world, to have a body subject to gravity, to feel the cold when the skin touches something, to feel the muscles tremble involuntarily.

Is this the feeling of life?

My hand trembled as I raised it before my face. I watched my fingers move, the skin above them creased, and the nails reflecting the faint light of the overhead lamps. Everything was so clear... and so confusing.

Then... memories came.

Like a bolt of lightning on a dark night, fragments of images and emotions that weren't mine overwhelmed me. I saw, I heard, I felt things I had never lived through. I was me, but I was also him.

I saw a man sitting at an old wooden table, bent over a faded book, his eyes cautiously following the words, as if carrying a secret only he understood. His name was John, the name of the body I had taken, and he was studying Latin. It didn't matter to me, but I still listened to him muttering:

"Nullus…"

The word echoed in my ears, like a distant echo, like a whisper creeping into my mind without permission. Nothingness, non-existence, emptiness, solitude... meanings tangled like smoke threads, dancing for a moment before disappearing, but leaving behind a strange feeling, as if a faint voice inside me was trying to utter it, trying to give me a name.

"Nullus…"

It wasn't a real voice, just an echo fading, dissolving into the void, but it lingered there, refusing to leave.

Nullus...

This would become my name.

A child's laughter... gentle, innocent, like a musical note that revives dead hearts.

A woman with dark hair, looking angrily, her sharp voice saying: "We can't continue like this, John."

A small hand holding his finger, a soft voice asking: "Daddy, when do we go on an adventure?"

John Smith had been the child.

A little boy sitting on his bed, staring at an old map, running his fingers over the lines representing roads and mountains, his eyes filled with dreams: "I want to be an adventurer! I want to see the whole world!"

A cold room, papers scattered, a hand clutching a pen, trembling... John was alone, his head bowed, the divorce papers before him.

Moments of solitude, silence, trying to forget... but always, there was a voice in his mind, his daughter's voice, asking: "Daddy, when do we go on an adventure?"

I took a step back, my body swaying with the flow of memories. I was Nullis, but I felt as if pieces of John were still here, trying to cling to me, trying to whisper something to me.

It wasn't just a body I had taken over, it was a whole life, a past, dreams, disappointments, and a child... a child waiting for her father.

But I am not her father.

I... I am something else.

Something that doesn't belong to this body, yet has become a part of it now.

What does this mean?

I didn't know. But I needed to know more.

As I reviewed those strange memories that weren't mine, I began to slowly understand the joy of thinking, a joy I never knew existed. Thoughts flowed freely in my mind, like a river that had not yet been constrained, moving freely, feeling the weight of questioning.

Who am I?

The question echoed in my mind, its reverberations filling every corner inside me. I felt a kind of questioning turmoil, as if I were searching for myself within the folds of words and memories, yet I couldn't find the answer I was seeking. Am I Nullis, or am I John? Or am I just an emptiness, a soul without memory? How did I find myself here? How did I come into this body I now live in?

Who imprisoned me in the book?

Another thought slinked into my mind, as if I were in an invisible prison, locked within old letters and tales. I felt as if I were trapped in some page, with the words written around me making me live here, in this unknown body, in this world I didn't know. A question knocked at my mind: Why was I imprisoned? How could something like me be trapped between the folds of a book? The answer was unclear, foggy, as though the distance was narrow and the horizon invisible.

But now, as I breathed life and felt the freedom of will, how did I escape? How did I break free from this prison? Was I elsewhere before? Or did I just suddenly appear in this body, as if I had been prepared for this moment?

Then, amidst all these thoughts, I noticed something strange. Beside me, there was ink, floating on the water's surface like foggy particles drifting among the other trapped objects. The ink carried an air of mystery, as though it wasn't just a medium for writing, but was tied to something deeper. What was its relation to what had happened to me? Why was the ink there? And why did I feel like it was part of the answer I was searching for?

The other objects around me seemed like lost details, as if I were in an old warehouse, surrounded by scattered tools. Everything moved haphazardly, as if I were surrounded by something greater than just ink and things. Were these things a way to understand how everything came to be? How was I imprisoned in this book?

I began to notice a change in myself. I wanted to understand this world, to achieve new goals. Searching for a way to regain my memories was the first thing that came to mind. Surely there was something missing in this body I now possessed. Who sent me here? And who was behind this prison?

I had to find the answers. And the first thing I needed was to discover how I was imprisoned and who did it. But also, I needed to understand my connection to all these tools, and the mystery of the ink still floating beside me. Everything connected me to this place, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

I took a deep breath and decided that I wouldn't stop my journey until I found the answers.

While I was diving into a sea of questions, I suddenly felt something strange. There was a faint sound, like whispers, sneaking around me. At first, I couldn't identify its source, but something in my body began to tremble, as if everything around me was in a state of tension. I felt something light up inside me, a strange feeling, as if I were listening to signals that hadn't been clear before.

The sensors.

Those hidden devices that might have been watching me all along began to react. There were flashes of light, dim lights starting to flicker in the spaces around me. I felt something unnatural, something connecting me to this body in an invisible way. The supernatural sensors had detected something wrong. It was clear now: I wasn't alone in this body.

Something was pressing on my existence, seeping deep into my mind. Yes, a part of John was here, but he wasn't alone. I was Nullis, trapped inside him. These sensors, the devices that were meant to protect him from any supernatural threat, had detected this anomaly.

And in this state, I felt something accelerating inside me, something trying to escape. Is this fear? If the sensors had detected me, it meant I was under constant surveillance. How do I escape from this? How do I free myself from the grip of these devices?

The sensors were intensifying, lighting up more brightly, as if something was about to happen. The light grew stronger, as if they were feeling my presence, the disturbance in John's body. I felt trapped, and it was time to make a decision.

How do I get out?

The question pressed heavily on me, as if I were trapped in a tight corner. The devices around me were glowing faster, as though they expected a reaction from me. Was there a way to escape? Or would I remain stuck in this body forever?

This thought drove me to madness. I needed to find a solution. I needed to know how to get out of this predicament before those sensors fully realized my existence.

But I didn't have much time to think. The sensors were lighting up faster, the devices were closing in on me, and I had very little time left. I had to act now.

Where is the exit?