Chapter 4: First Meal

Michael opened his eyes, feeling slightly disoriented. The experience had been so vivid that it took him a moment to remind himself where he was. He reached up and carefully removed the headgear, his fingers trembling slightly. Sitting up, he became aware of an empty gnawing sensation in his stomach.

"Can I get some food?" he asked aloud.

A soft chime echoed in the room before the familiar mechanical voice responded. "Please wait a moment. Place the watch on your wrist."

Michael frowned. "Watch?"

"It is the object inside the drawer beside the headgear."

Curious, he opened the drawer once more and spotted a sleek, metallic band. Picking it up, he examined its smooth, weightless form before strapping it onto his wrist. Instantly, the device emitted a soft glow, and a three-dimensional map flickered into existence before his eyes.

"Follow the path to the cafeteria," the voice instructed. "Your food is free. To return to this room, simply follow the arrow back."

Michael nodded, intrigued. This technology was far beyond anything he had ever seen. He took a deep breath, his mind still racing with questions, but hunger was a more pressing concern for now.

One problem remained—how was he supposed to leave this room? There wasn't even a visible door.

As if in response to his thoughts, a gentle swoosh filled the air, and a seamless section of the wall suddenly parted, sliding up into the ceiling. A doorway now stood before him, revealing a sleek, illuminated corridor beyond.

Michael hesitated, then uttered a quiet, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the voice replied politely.

Taking a step forward, Michael crossed the threshold, leaving the room behind.

Michael followed the glowing arrow as it pulsed gently, guiding him through dimly lit hallways devoid of life. The air smelled sterile, unnaturally clean, a scent that felt foreign to his senses. It lacked the rich aroma of burning wood, the scent of soil after rain, or even the comforting musk of an old tavern where ale and roasted meats filled the air. This place felt... empty.

"Am I the only one here?" he muttered to himself, his voice swallowed by the silence.

The corridor stretched on, silent and unchanging, until at last, he arrived at the cafeteria. A spacious yet eerily quiet chamber awaited him, its sterile white walls giving off a faint glow. The large, pristine tables stood unoccupied. Not a soul in sight.

He approached the long counter at the far end of the room, where a glowing display sat embedded into the surface. As he leaned in, unfamiliar symbols formed words he could barely comprehend. Strange names adorned the menu, none of which he recognized. No roasted venison, no black bread with honey, no thick stew bubbling over an iron pot. Instead, peculiar dishes with sleek, modern designs filled the menu before him.

"How do I order?" he wondered aloud.

The voice responded immediately. "Just tap on the menu to prepare your order. Once completed, tap the word 'Done' and kindly wait for your meal to be released at the end of the counter."

Michael blinked. "Can I order anything?"

"Yes."

A grin spread across his face. If nothing else, he could enjoy a good meal. His fingers hovered over the glowing menu, carefully selecting what appeared most appealing to him. His choices were made based on images alone, trusting his instincts. Once satisfied, he tapped 'Done.'

A few moments passed in silence.

Then, suddenly, a rich, intoxicating aroma filled the air.

Michael's stomach clenched in anticipation, his mouth watering. A mechanical hiss echoed through the chamber as a hidden compartment slid open at the end of the counter, revealing a tray laden with food.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him.

At the center of the tray sat a generous slab of meat, thick and succulent, glistening under the soft glow of the room's light. The juices pooled beneath it, rich and dark, reminding him of a perfectly seared cut of boar, though its color was unlike any he had seen before. The surface bore a slight char, hinting at flames hotter and more precise than an open fire. As he inhaled, the aroma of smoky spices and herbs filled his nose, making his stomach grumble in protest.

Beside the meat lay golden slices of something crisp, each cut into uniform shapes. They smelled of rich oils and salt, crackling slightly as if fresh from a hot pan. He poked one hesitantly, feeling its crisp outer shell give way to a softer interior. Perhaps some sort of root vegetable, fried to perfection?

A bowl of thick, creamy substance sat next to it, its surface glossy and smooth. It carried a rich, buttery scent, reminding him of the way mashed parsnips would be served during a feast back in the kingdom. He took a cautious sniff—there was something even richer here, something indulgent.

Further down the tray, he found a small, delicate roll, its outer layer golden brown and slightly crisp. He picked it up, feeling its warmth in his hands. The scent of fresh-baked bread filled his nose, but as he tore it open, the texture inside was soft, almost airy, unlike the dense loaves he was accustomed to. There was a faint sweetness to it, mingling with the subtle aroma of butter.

A tall, curved glass contained a dark, fizzy liquid, tiny bubbles rising to the surface and vanishing. He eyed it curiously. It smelled faintly sweet, with an almost spicy undertone. It reminded him of the spiced wines his men would drink after a successful campaign, but there was no alcohol here, only an inviting chill that hinted at refreshment.

Finally, a small dish contained something cold and white, its surface smooth and slightly glossy. It carried the unmistakable scent of sweet cream, yet it did not melt like fresh butter. A spoon sat beside it, and when he scooped a small amount, the substance held firm before dissolving smoothly on his tongue. A chill ran down his throat, the flavor rich and sweet beyond anything he had tasted before.

Michael took a deep breath, staring at the meal before him. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered, yet something about it felt welcoming, comforting even.

Hesitating no longer, he took his first bite.

The moment the tender meat touched his tongue, his senses exploded. A symphony of flavors played across his taste buds—smoky, savory, rich beyond anything he had ever experienced. The meat was impossibly soft, melting against his teeth with each bite. It was perfectly seasoned, an intricate blend of spices he couldn't identify, yet they harmonized flawlessly. He groaned in pleasure, his instincts demanding he take another bite immediately.

"By the gods! This is delicious!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty cafeteria.

He grabbed one of the golden fried slices and took a bite. A satisfying crunch gave way to a fluffy interior, the taste both salty and slightly sweet, a combination that only made him crave more. It was simple, yet addicting, like something he could eat endlessly without growing tired of it.

He scooped up a generous spoonful of the creamy dish and let it rest on his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he had before—rich, velvety, with just a hint of garlic and butter. It coated his mouth, warm and smooth, as though it had been whipped to perfection by the finest of chefs.

Reaching for the bread, he tore a piece and dipped it into the creamy side dish. The combination of the warm, soft roll absorbing the buttery richness was enough to make his eyes flutter shut in delight. He savored every bite, barely able to contain his excitement.

Curious about the dark, bubbling drink, he lifted the glass and took a cautious sip. Instantly, a rush of sweetness and an unexpected fizz filled his mouth. It was cold, far colder than any ale or cider he had ever known, and the way it tingled against his tongue made him nearly cough in surprise. Yet, it was invigorating, awakening his senses and making his next bite even more satisfying.

Finally, he took another spoonful of the cold, white dessert. It was as if sweet cream had been frozen, transformed into something both firm yet impossibly smooth. The moment it touched his tongue, it melted into a wave of cool, sugary bliss. He had never tasted anything like it before, yet he already knew he would crave it again.

By the time he finished his meal, he leaned back in his chair, utterly content. This world, strange as it was, had given him something wonderful—an experience he never thought possible.

A hearty laugh escaped him. "If this is the food of the afterlife, then perhaps dying wasn't so bad after all."

Gently rubbing his swollen belly, he stood up and began his journey back to his room to contemplate. He needed to plan out his future in this strange world and if possible, go back to his.