Glenn was lying on the ground, his eyes full of disbelief at what had just happened.

  If someone had told him a few billion years ago that he'd be facing a giant metal monster, well, he probably wouldn't have believed them.

  Although living for billions of years wasn't normal either,

  In the meantime, the man with the big build and the innocent look came towards Glenn.

  'What does he want from me? Don't tell me he wants to give me a hard time too.'

  After the man with the innocent look, whom we'll call "Douillet" for practical reasons, arrived in front of Glenn, he smiled naively and held out his hand.

  'What? What's he doing? Didn't he want to hit me?'

  Glenn gave a questioning look to Cuddles, who nodded and held out his arm even more.

  After a few seconds, hoping to have understood, Glenn reached out with his hand and, in one swift movement,

  ... shook his hand, then let it go.

  Douillet frowned in incomprehension before sighing and laughing mockingly at the same time.

  This time, he suddenly reached out and grabbed Glenn's hand, pulling him to his feet.

  'Ho fuck!'

  Alert, Glenn withdrew his hand as quickly as possible and jumped back. Well, that's what he would have wanted to do if Douillet's superhuman strength wasn't holding him in place.

  Douillet met Glenn's eyes, surprised for some reason.

  'Haaaa. What does he want from me now?'

  For the next few minutes, about twenty, Glenn was dragged by Douillet, followed by everyone else, towards an unknown location.

  The crowd was rather silent, with a few murmurs here and there. Most of the glances were disapproving, haughty, and particularly unpleasant towards Glenn. On the whole, all that could be heard was the sound of footsteps on the grey earth, which glistened under the effect of the glittering sun, to which Glenn was still not accustomed.

  Eyes aching, he lowered his gaze to the ground, coming face to face with a shower of luminous bridges and metallic dust that reflected the sunlight and seemed even stronger from Glenn's point of view.

  Finally, he could only sigh and follow Douillet, his eyes half-closed.

  In the thick, heavy heat, Glenn was sweating profusely, unlike the rest of the cohort, who seemed to be in great shape.

  The camp was rather archaic; the triangular awnings were made of fabric and supported by wooden spikes stuck into the ground, the name of which Glenn couldn't remember.

  He was still being dragged by Douillet, who led him into one of the aunts, which appeared to be larger than the others.

  'Ho?'

  Glenn opened his eyes and mouth in surprise. The tent, which only looked like it could hold 3 or 4 people, was as big as a villa inside.

  What's more, instead of a décor as archaic as the outside, the inside of the villa was extremely modern, even futuristic, equipped with never-before-seen technology.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  Holograms were giant screens of incredible quality showing metal blocks accompanied by what appeared to be explanatory texts next to the blocks.

  Still in an unknown language, though.

  'Wow...'

  In a state of total amazement, Glenn was once again jostled and then pulled forward by Douillet. Douillet made him sit down on a chair at the edge of the large table in the middle of the large room.

  Douillet waved to Glenn and left for another room, leaving Glenn sitting alone at the edge of the table.

  'What are they going to do?'

  Under some pressure, Glenn sat there, surrounded by a dozen people. After a while, Douillet returned, and in his hand was a sort of round plate made of silver.

  'No... It's not possible; I don't want to believe it.'

  In front of Glenn, there was something he hadn't seen for ages, something he was looking forward to, something he hoped one day to see again...

  There was a plate full of food.

  He'd never thought he'd see it again. Trembling, he looked over at Douillet, who was still looking at him with that innocent look.

  Without being able to control himself, a wave of saliva flooded his mouth, excited by the smell of the food in front of him, strongly resembling chicken but blood-red in colour.

  'Wait... That colour... Isn't that supposed to be a bad sign?'

  Doubting the quality of the dish for a second, Glenn elicited a few grunts of disagreement from the cohort behind him. Urged on by the pressure of those around him, Glenn picked up what appeared to be a place setting and took a bite of the supposed chicken.

  'Right, well, either way, I can't die, can I?'

  Without another second's hesitation, Glenn popped the chicken into his mouth and savoured the taste of food for the first time in billions of years.

  However, the pleasure was short-lived.

  After just one mouthful, his brain created a chain reaction that made Glenn suddenly want to...

  ... vomit.

  In one fell swoop, he got up and quickly knelt on the floor and vomited, but after so much time without eating or drinking, he simply had nothing to vomit, so there was only blood and a strange transparent liquid falling to the floor.

  It was at this point that Glenn realized the situation: his body was immortal, and he no longer needed to eat or drink. At first, however, he still felt the urge. However, when time began to inevitably pass and Glenn began to wander in space, these cravings disappeared.

  His body, as an immortal, had not changed its function, so Glenn could theoretically eat as if nothing had happened, even after all that.

  His body was in a perfectly normal state, yes, but his mind was not. By now he'd forgotten what it meant to eat or drink; his mind had concluded that it was no longer necessary and had just thrown that aspect of Glenn's life in the bin.

  Fatally, the act of ingesting something had been seen by his brain as something bad and had therefore treated food as a foreign body. Inevitably, in a sort of survival instinct, his brain sent a single signal to the body.

  Reject the foreign body.

  So it could only pass through the mouth. In short, he'd thrown up all over the floor in front of a dozen people.

  'No... No, no, no! This can't be happening! I'm not going to be able to eat any more.'

  Completely unaware of the situation he was in, Glenn was shocked, angry, and had many other complicated and negative emotions. He simply couldn't believe that his brain was rejecting food, especially since it was so good.

  In one swift movement, he got to his feet, causing everyone around him to take a step backwards, picked up his plate, and gobbled up as much food as he could before vomiting once more.

  He repeated the experience several times before his brain gradually got used to it and he was able to eat serenely.

  With a sigh of relief, he put his plate back down, then turned to look at the extent of the damage.

  'At least I can eat now.'

  Looking up, Glenn opened his eyes wide and realized something: he saw the eyes of the dozen or so people around him, watching him with a mixture of shock, disgust, and amusement.

  'Oh no! Shit! I'd forgotten all about them!'

  Ashamed of his previous actions, Glenn stood up quickly and bowed to the crowd, hoping that for them, this might mean an apology.

  Glenn heard heavy footsteps, followed by a man in his fifties, rather frail, even unremarkable if you took away the luminous features covering his body, who was carrying a bucket and a mop in his hands.

  He arrived at the disgusting puddle and uttered what sounded like an expletive to Glenn, then wiped up the mess.

  Glenn watched the man for a moment, then turned his gaze to Douillet, who had been watching him all along with innocent eyes and approached him. He handed Glenn a paper towel, who took it and wiped his mouth.

  With extreme concentration and a face bordering on madness, Glenn managed, with great difficulty, to articulate his first coherent word.

  "Th... anks."

  Douillet, for his part, stuck out his thumb and said it in a confident tone.

  "Yao!"

  After deducing that Yao seemed to be his name, out of politeness, Glenn tried to introduce himself and, with great concentration and difficulty, articulated his name, but...

  "GWenn!"

  ... He still had a bit of practice to get the hang of it.