Mikasa?
My vision swayed.
Could this truly be the world of Attack on Titan?
A wave of dizziness struck me. I raised my right hand to steady myself, only to press against the wound on my forehead. The pain was sharp. It had not healed. I quickly checked my left palm. The cut from the knife was still open as well.
What happened to my regeneration?
I scanned the alley. Renn was nowhere to be seen. Only the four boys lay unconscious on the ground. Blood dripped steadily onto the stones, gathering into a shallow pool. I glanced at the reflection in it.
The face staring back at me was not sixteen.
It was my face at ten years old, perhaps even younger.
Among Demon Hunters, talent begins to manifest at ten. That is when we first sense mana. Yet at this moment, I could not feel a single trace of magical power within my body.
Another wave of vertigo washed over me. Blood loss had drained the color from my face. I sank down against the wall, clutching my head.
Perhaps noticing my weakened state, the woman lowered her guard slightly. Shielding Mikasa with one arm, she stepped closer.
"Child, what is your name?"
"Jax," I replied, my voice faint.
I did not have the strength to think about language or identity. I simply leaned back against the wall.
She studied my pale face and the wounds on my hands. After a brief hesitation, she said, "Let me bandage you."
From her pocket, she produced clean cloth strips and knelt beside me. Mikasa remained behind her, peeking out. Her dark eyes held both curiosity and caution.
As the woman wrapped my hand and forehead, she asked softly, "Are you from the East? Your hair and eyes…"
My thoughts were already slipping into haze. I looked at her and gave a faint nod. After that, her voice faded into indistinct sound as darkness overtook me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a wooden ceiling.
Sunlight streamed through a nearby window, falling across my face. I blinked several times before memory returned.
This should be Mikasa's home.
The house was quiet. Only distant birdsong filtered through the walls. I closed my eyes once more, forcing my mind into order and examining everything carefully.
First, the Gate of Return must have appeared recently. If it had existed for years, wandering animals would have stumbled through and created chaos at the arrival point. The alley where I appeared showed no sign of such disruption.
Second, the teleportation effect seemed random. It transported a complete object, but not necessarily to the same location as others. That likely explained why Renn had not arrived beside me.
Third, and most troubling, was my body.
The Gate of Return likely carried a temporal component. Otherwise, I would have arrived here at sixteen, not ten.
I raised my hand and lightly touched the bandage on my forehead. Only now could I faintly sense the slightest trace of magical power within me, thin and unstable, like a dying ember.
If I had not been disoriented and weakened from the crossing, those street thugs would never have injured me.
I exhaled slowly.
My situation was clear enough. The Gate of Return had sent me into the past of another world, stripped me of nearly all my strength, and separated me from Renn.
Now I needed to decide how to survive in it.
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