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It all crashed down on him when he sees the stars.
It wasn’t how he felt 30 years younger and had the hairstyle to go with it. It wasn’t that he had protected a little boy with CAT EARS nor that those that persecuted him were a bunch of GIANT RATS. No. None of those had raised red flags in Roland’s mind, but the fucking starry sky did.
When was the last time he had seen it? He used to go camping a lot when he was young, but then law school and politics and the elections happened… But now he stood in a clearing as if nothing of that had happened. As if he was still 20 and deciding what to do with his life.
As if he hadn’t seen hundreds of thousands being killed by a missile.
He doesn’t cry. Maybe it was because he was still in shock; maybe years of having to deal with every tragedy in the Union had taken that away from him. But that doesn’t stop him from needing to sit for a moment. A long one.
Was this hell? Maybe the stress of it all had finally taken a toll on him. Or maybe, just maybe, he had truly been transported to a world of revolutionary rats and children with tails.
He laughs. A broken laugh that sounds more like a whimper. Nothing made sense. Here he was: 30 years younger, sitting under a starry sky with the sleeping king of the cats. A kid that in one day had lost both his home and his mother figure.
And… he was now his sole protector, wasn’t him? That maid had died. He appeared to not have a family, no more at least. And dropping him back would mean his death.
Roland’s blood boils. He was just a child, and yet everything he once had had been taken from him. A lonely child with a heavy burden on his back.
So yes, Roland might have been lost. He didn’t know if he had died, if he had gone crazy or if something impossible had happened. He didn’t know what place was this nor how could he go back. But as he looked at the sleeping figure of the kid - no- his name was Evan, he was reminded that, even in this crazy world, someone needed him.