Afternoon Tea: Travels

[Spoken word deep narrating voice] Beyond the wall was not a town… Nor a forest… Nor anything the man could recognize. It was emptiness. A vast wasteland stretched as far as his eyes could see— Cracked earth like shattered glass, Blackened spires jutting from the ground like the bones of the world itself. No birds. No wind worth naming. Only silence… thick and suffocating. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] The man takes a slow step forward, then another, as if the ground itself might give way beneath him. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “There’s… nothin’. No buildings… no roads… Just… death.” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] He turns in a slow circle, scanning the horizon. Ash drifts lazily through the air like falling snow. The sky above churns—clouds folding into themselves, dark and restless, as if the heavens are watching him. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…I don’t belong here.” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] The wall behind him suddenly feels less like shelter… And more like a cage. He looks down. Ten feet to the cracked earth below. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…Only one way forward, eh?” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] The man swings his legs over the edge of the wall, gripping the stone tightly as his boots scrape for purchase. Loose bricks crumble beneath his weight. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “Easy… easy… don’t fuckin’ die now…” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] With a final drop, he lands hard—knees buckling, breath forced from his lungs. [Exhausted Male spoken word scottish accent] “UGHH—fuck…!” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] He coughs, then laughs weakly… The kind of laugh that comes when there’s nothing else left to do. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “Right… Guess I’m walkin’.” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] He steps forward into the wasteland. Each footfall echoes unnaturally, as if the land itself is hollow. Minutes pass… or hours… he can’t tell. Time feels wrong here—stretched, warped, meaningless. Then… He sees it. A distortion in the distance. The air bends inward, folding like heat over asphalt. A faint hum crawls across his skin, rattling his bones. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…No fuckin’ way…” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] As he draws closer, the shape becomes clearer— A swirling tear in the world, glowing faintly with shifting colors that don’t belong to any sky or flame. Whispers bleed from it… layered voices speaking in languages he somehow understands… and doesn’t. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…I don’t know what you are…” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] The man hesitates, heart pounding, every instinct screaming to run. [Male spoken word scottish accent] “…but you’re the first thing that’s felt alive since I woke up.” [Spoken word deep narrating voice] He steps closer. The hum grows louder. The air vibrates. The portal reacts. And somewhere deep within his fractured memory… Something stirs.