You are now Zephyr, an indeterminate amount of time in the future.
What? What happened! How long have you been out? You suddenly have no idea what's going on. The last thing you remember was the bright light, and then nothing but searing, agonizing pain flooding your mind. Where'd your new toy go? Did something happen? Are you under attack?
...where in Mafeas did your pants go?!?
"Whoo, take it off!"
...is that some sort of image preservation artifact? You hope the Five Dragons are merciful enough for that not to be an image preservation artifact.
Besides, she wouldn't...
Of course she would. It was foolish of you to even consider otherwise.
Locating a means of preserving your modesty has now become a priority.