Stanley walks through the door. Pausing and looking outside the door, he sees a fantasy world of incredible buildings and hotels. Stanley has now become one of the first people to see an outer civilisation — a place existing away from Suran. It reminds him of Eurosia, but with more of a feeling of being out of place. His mouth is open in curiosity, eyebrows tensed, eyes darting to the biggest places he can see. Buildings and hotels from a fantasy world are in front of him, but he is not confused. Stanley has an idea of where he is looking. Slowly glancing backwards, he sees his own world, the one he is used to. In front is a unique place full of anachronisms.
It seems the people walking around are pleasant, living a rich life; each to their own.
Huh.
Stanley takes one small glance to his right and walks through the door. A few steps later, he turns around. The door still projects its old city. He walks back and closes it, then opens it to see a beautiful wooden interior, nothing like where it was standing before. He grins slightly and closes that door to wander off into whatever he has stumbled upon. Blue skies and thick clouds look down on him; buildings line up with good architecture and rough materials compared to his old city.
I actually have no clue what to do first in this city on a crude planet.
"Good sir!" Stanley says in front of an elderly man who bumped into his hip.
Stanley looks at his face — matured and toughened with age, a scar running from his lip to his left cheek, eyebrows that have slightly faded with old age, long white hair tied back in the form of a man bun, and the slightly glaring eyes of a calm person. He seems to have a story worth telling.
"I am a traveller and was wondering something about this place?"
The man looks at him and replies, "Look, walk down where I am pointing and take two left turns. You will end up at a place you need to be."
"Thank you, good sir!"
So, walk here, then two lefts, and you'll end up somewhere interesting. He is just trying to get rid of me.
He looks around, turning his head to cautiously admire his surroundings — beautiful buildings made of stone, wood, and concrete in a raw, crude way. It looks pleasing but disappointing.
These details, the rawness — it seemed like it was created during a Renaissance period.
He then stops and looks at a wall on his right. He assumes it would be limestone. With a touch from his left hand, he knows this is not any material from his planet.
Firm, compact, dense.
He then slaps the wall. His hand doesn't feel any pain or sensitivity coming from his body. He is puzzled.
It stops all forms of force with no backlash; I can see from the wall. Tritane.
Finding his answer, he continues to walk on the grey gravel path, surrounded by people. When he turns left, there is a small puddle in the left corner. He walks slowly by it to catch a glimpse of himself.
A young man with long, wavy brown hair; eyebrows tilting inwards; and sharp brown eyes. His face is slightly covered with dark brown freckles, combined with tiny bits of acne. His posture holds a slight confidence. His neck is thin and tall, his jaw straight and almost perfect. He checks out his muscles, only to see they are not too visible because of his outfit: white linen pants, black-and-white dress shoes, and a yellow puffer jacket, all of it heavily stained with dirt and crust. He never mentions it, but many people who see him always give a look of strangeness. He is viewed but not spoken to, like a painting in a museum. His face contorts into a surreal expression while gazing around at the people near him.
I really hate these people looking at me like this. I know I am ugly, people.
He continues to walk down the pavement of concrete, fairly made, towards an unknown place.
What can I possibly do here? Such a crude place won't help me at all. No flags or details pointing out the Empire's authority over this place. I am concerned.
His heart slowly gains momentum, accelerating, clouding his judgement with mystery and confusion. He pauses his walking to think.
Where the hell am I? Suran is probably thousands of light-years away.
Once again, he starts jogging into his "destination" in a place near the middle of nowhere.