He was just a guy dropped into the prehistoric version of hell, breathing smoke and dirt, surrounded by a world that wanted him dead before breakfast.
He exhaled again, voice raspy and dry.
"Great. Out of all the timelines, I get the one where humans are just snacks.."
Reaching here his internal monologue was stopped abruptly because that smoking hot milf was back, and this time with another equally ravishing milf with white hair, not older people white, more like naturally whitish silver color.
These two stunning women, radiating an unmistakable aura of mature allure, re-entered his line of sight. The first, undoubtedly an empress of curves, walking definition of red-hot desire. But his gaze was equally captivated by the second one, she was a vision of icy elegance contrasting beautifully with her flawless, porcelain complexion, a perfect canvas for her impeccable soft features.
Even though her boobas may have lacked the exaggerated proportions of her predecessor, but there was still a raw, unforgettable appeal to her curves that sent shivers down his spine.
But that is not the main point, the main issue was it was only now that he truly focused on their attire. The provocative attire they wore that truly captured his imagination... shredded animal hides and supple wood fibers loincloth clung to their lithe frames, a precarious balance of coverage and lascivious exposure.
Even though they weren’t revealing much, but compared to modern attires, they left little to the imagination, flaunting toned bellies, long, lean limbs, and delicate arms in an overt display of primal, carnal beauty.
Even, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation as these two goddesses emerged, their presence seemed to be a siren’s call to indulge in the raw, sensory pleasures of the flesh.
His virgin brain,overwhelmed by this intense simulation, seemed to crash for a moment.
Because it truly the first time he had seen women wearing such revealing clothes, and more so these world ending level hot milfs, they had his primal untamed charmed to them, that modern women couldn’t even dream to compare.
He blinked. Once and then twice, but they were still there, still feeling unreal.
"Okay," he muttered under his breath, "so the afterlife apparently comes with tribal supermodels. Good to know."
Without giving him time to think further, both these women hurried inside with worried expressions etched on their faces.
The white-haired one moved first. Up close, she looked even enchanting... calm but sharp-eyed at the same time, her every motion seems to be deliberate. If the tanned woman radiated energy like fire, this one was cold water ... steady, focused, precise.
He tried to pretend he didn’t see them, forcing his eyes half-shut and breathing deep and heavy. But honestly it wasn’t much of an act... the pain was still hammering his brain, something which he had been trying to suppress since earlier, clawing on his head like something was trying to drill its way in. Every breath came ragged, chest trembling and body drenched in sweat.
The white-haired woman knelt beside him, examining him like he was an injured animal that might drop dead any second. She muttered something to the other woman... in rough, rhythmic sounds that didn’t sound like any language he’d ever heard.
Then she reached into a pouch hanging from her hip and took something out... leaves, herbs, and maybe crushed roots smeared together into a paste. No matter how you look at it, the stuff looked... questionable. A weird greenish-brown mix, like someone had blended moss with despair.
"Oh, great," he thought weakly, "prehistoric medicine. This’ll end well."
Before he could say or do anything, the woman scooped a bit of the mixture with her fingers and leaned closer. Her other hand slid under his jaw, tilting his head slightly upward.
And then... she just fed it to him.
He wanted to struggle, there is no way in hell he would be alright swallowing this weird mixture, but alas, even if he tried he couldn’t move, his body was still heavy, unresponsive, every limb disconnected from command. All he could do was lie there and helplessly exist while the mystery paste went down his throat.
He despaired mentally and was ready for some weird, bitter taste, but.... even after waiting for a while, no such taste was registered by his brain.
And surprisingly... it didn’t taste terrible.
Instead, it was sharp, earthy, a bit minty... like crushed herbs with a hint of smoke and metal and there was a faint sweetness under it, something floral, maybe berries or tree sap.
There was even a cooling tingle that spread down his throat, settling in his chest. Weird, but not disgusting and weirdly refreshing for something that looked like swamp mud.
Under the watchful and worried eyes of the two women, something really strange began to happen.
The tearing headache that had been clawing through his skull for since he had woken up, finally started to fade. The pounding behind his eyes softened, then dulled, then vanished entirely. His scrunched-up face slowly relaxed on its own, his breathing evened out, and for the first time since waking, his body didn’t feel like it was on fire.
And warmth began to ripple through his whole body... slow, steady and nourishing.
It started in his chest and spread outward, filling every limb with a strange calm energy. His muscles stopped twitching, his fingers loosened. The feeling was almost blissful... like a man dying of thirst suddenly was handed a bucket of cold water in the middle of a desert.
He didn’t know what the hell that green stuff was, but it worked.
Miraculously so.
The two women exchanged glances. The tanned one smiled faintly, relief flickering in her dark eyes. The white-haired one let out a small sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Then they began to talk. Their voices were low and melodic, words rough and unfamiliar, full of clicks and rolling tones. Sol couldn’t understand a thing. But the rhythm of it, the way the silver-haired one spoke and the other nodded... told him everything. It seemed like the pale one was giving the tanned one some instructions.
He tried to listen, tried to stay awake and observe what was happening, but his eyelids had grown impossibly heavy. The warmth inside him was turning into drowsiness, a heavy wave dragging him under. The edges of the world began to blur, melting into soft colors and echoing sounds.
The last thing he saw before his vision faded again was the silver-haired woman looking down at him, murmuring something he didn’t understand... her voice calm, like a lullaby echoing through his mind.
Then everything went dark again.