The night passed in the blink of an eye.

"Young Master Benjamin, 'tis time to greet the day. The Dowager requests your presence at the morning repast."

The butler's voice, accompanied by a brisk knock at the door, yanked Kyle back to cold reality as he lay abed.

Was it dawn already?

He laughed bitterly to himself. Who would have thought that simply assimilating Benjamin Lither's memories would keep him toiling from dusk till daybreak, not a moment spared for rest?

The fault lay not with the AI, as such. The condensed memory package was indeed sufficiently abbreviated, providing a general overview of his circumstances within half an hour's time. No, the crux of the issue was that it was perhaps a touch TOO concise. Kyle had scoured the recollections for any hint of the scoundrel who had sent the assassin after him, but to no avail.

Thus, he had been compelled to refine his search, querying the AI for more granular details buried within the memories.

Alas, this line of inquiry proved akin to seeking the proverbial needle in a haystack. Coupled with the AI's occasional bouts of eccentric glitching, the hunt for the shadowy mastermind had stretched on until morning's light. The butler had come to summon him to break his fast, and still he had naught to show for his efforts. In short, the identity of the blackguard who sought his life remained frustratingly elusive.

Kyle felt a pang of defeat, as though he'd frittered away the night's hours on a fool's errand.

But there was nothing for it. Time had run its course, and he could ill afford to further pore over the minutiae of borrowed remembrances. The butler tarried just beyond the threshold, and he would soon be compelled to face the assembled Lither brood - a far more pressing and immediate concern.

Could he truly hope to pass muster beneath the keen gazes of "his" kith and kin?

Viewed through such a lens, mayhap the night's labors had not been in vain after all. He had committed the distilled chronicle of Benjamin's life to memory and even brushed up on a veritable treasure trove of smaller details. Surely that would prove invaluable in maintaining his mummer's farce.

Armed with those precious insights, he should have little trouble hoodwinking the butler, at the very least.

"Understood. I shall join you anon," he called out in response to the butler's summons, pitching his voice to carry through the oaken door.

"Jeremy is feeling a trifle under the weather, so I have come to attend to the young master's morning ablutions in his stead," the butler said, unexpectedly opening the door and crossing the threshold.

"That… shan't be necessary. I am quite capable of managing on my own," Kyle hurriedly demurred, hoping his dismissal didn't sound overly abrupt to the butler's ears.

The very notion of a man of advancing years aiding him in washing and dressing felt a touch… inappropriate. Nay, more to the point, as a self-sufficient gentleman of the modern age and not some sniveling, overly-coddled whelp, having another tend to such intimate tasks was simply not done.

However, a queer expression stole over the butler's weathered visage upon hearing Kyle's words, his brow furrowing in what might have been consternation or disbelief.

Kyle's unease deepened, a frisson of trepidation running down his spine.

"I say, old bean, you never mentioned that 'twas customary for the gentry to be aided in dressing by their man." He silently groused to the AI, a touch of asperity coloring his inner voice. "Won't it raise eyebrows if I insist on flying solo, as it were?"

"It shouldn't pose an issue, I shouldn't think. While 'tis true that having one's gentleman assist with such matters is common practice, there's been a recent vogue for the well-heeled to take a more active hand in their daily toilette." The AI's response was tinged with what might have been genuine perplexity, though it was always difficult to tell with the mercurial construct. "T'wouldn't be remarked upon as strange, not in the slightest."

"Truly? Art thou quite certain?"

But even as he queried the AI anew, Kyle felt his unease begin to ebb, a welcome wave of relief washing over him.

If the AI spoke true, then surely he wasn't at risk of giving the game away with so minor a faux pas. Perchance Benjamin had simply grown accustomed to being waited upon hand and foot, but a slight alteration in temperament shouldn't cause undue alarm.

He had allowed his paranoia to get the better of him, conjuring shadows where none lurked.

Emboldened by this realization, Kyle squared his shoulders and addressed the patiently waiting butler with what he hoped was an air of unruffled nonchalance. "Think nothing of it, my good man. Pray attend to thine other duties with my blessing. I shall join the family presently."

As he had hoped, the butler raised no further objections. Sketching a deep bow, he set down the items he'd had tucked beneath his arm and promptly quit the room, pulling the door shut with a muted click as he retreated.

Kyle exhaled gustily, a knot of tension he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying unspooling between his shoulder blades.

Every step since his return to this realm had been akin to navigating a battlefield, albeit one where the daggers remained sheathed and cloaked in shadow.

He clambered out of bed, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet as he took a moment to drink in his new surroundings. The gloom of the previous eve had obscured much of the chamber's opulence, but now he could appreciate its grandeur in the pale light of a new day.

'Twas quite the spacious room, rivaling the parlor of a well-to-do family in his own world. All the usual trappings of wealth and privilege were accounted for – a handsome writing desk, a wardrobe of rich, dark wood, an elegant vanity, and a towering bookcase filled with leather-bound tomes. Though currently shrouded by heavy, ornately embroidered curtains, the room's windows were of a generous size, promising a spectacular view of the estate grounds. A pendulum clock hung on the wall opposite the bed, its brassy face and intricate filigree bespeaking the finest Continental craftsmanship. The very air seemed suffused with an almost palpable aura of aristocratic refinement, the effect only heightened by the magnificent religious painting mounted above the bed's carved headboard.

As for the chamber pot that had played such a pivotal (if undignified) role in the previous night's drama, the butler had thoughtfully placed it in a discreet nook by the door before making his exit.

Kyle made his way over to the vanity and used the water left by the butler to freshen up, taking a moment to tame his hair as well. Then, following the AI's guidance, he retrieved a shirt and a pair of suspenders from the wardrobe and changed into them.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

It was there, gazing into the mirror, that he beheld his own appearance for the first time.

A typical adolescent Caucasian male with golden brown hair and pale blue eyes stared back at him. His frame was on the slender side, bordering on frail, and his sallow cheeks were dusted with a smattering of faint freckles. There was an almost sickly air about him, a palpable aura of infirmity.

But Kyle was not overly dismayed. His expectations had been modest - as long as he wasn't hideous, he could make do. And he had faith that his current wan countenance would improve with time.

He simply committed this face to memory, etching the image of "himself" into his mind.

A voice whispered in the depths of his soul: from this moment on, he was no longer Kyle. He was Benjamin Lither.

Kyle's life had already shattered at the age of twenty-five. From this day forward, there would be no more "Kyle." He had to fully, completely become Benjamin Lither.

Staring at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, he silently steeled his resolve.

Then, Kyle pushed open the door… no, it should be said: Benjamin pushed open the door and walked out.

Following the route provided by the AI, Benjamin descended the stairs and entered the parlor where the Lither family customarily took their meals. Two servants stood at the entrance, bowing to him as he passed. He nodded in return.

All was as it "should" be, with no sign of anything amiss. Benjamin strode into the parlor.

If his bedchamber was roughly the size of an average person's living room, then this parlor was positively palatial. A nearly thirty-foot long mahogany table bisected the space, dividing it neatly in two. Matching china cabinets flanked the far walls, their contents meticulously arranged. Four disparate religious paintings adorned the walls, lending an air of mystery and solemnity to the already imposing Baroque decor.

For such a grand room, it was curiously empty, with only two occupants.

An elderly woman of nearly eighty years, dressed in resplendent finery, sat at the table breaking her fast. A maidservant in her fifties stood at attention nearby, her demeanor the very picture of deference.

Thanks to the memories relayed by the AI, Benjamin knew this elderly woman to be his grandmother, the uncontested matriarch of House Lither.

He was a touch surprised to see her dining alone, but also relieved.

He had expected to face the entirety of his Lither relations at this first meal - his parents, his brother, and the grandmother before him. For whatever reason, it was only the elderly dame. This greatly reduced the pressure Benjamin felt.

He approached and took a seat at the table, greeting his grandmother with all due respect.

"Good morning, Grandmother."

The old woman glanced at him, arching a brow in some inscrutable expression. "Good morning, child. The young are ever so full of vim and vigor, ready to turn the world on its ear at a moment's notice. Not at all like us doddering old fools, wouldn't you agree?"

Her tone was… odd. Not at all how one would expect an elder to address their descendant. Indeed, Benjamin detected a note of thinly-veiled mockery in her words, as if he were the scion of her most hated rival.

Whatever could she mean by it?

Before Benjamin could even begin to formulate a response, his grandmother abruptly set down her cutlery, daubed at her mouth with a napkin, and fixed him with a look of pure indifference.

"Are you hungry? The kitchen staff didn't prepare you any breakfast. But a strapping young man like yourself surely won't be bothered by such a trifling inconvenience."

"…"

The absolute nerve of this woman!

SHE was the one who had summoned him to breakfast. And yet, no food had been laid out for him? If not to eat, then why had he even been called down?

Benjamin was stunned.

The AI chose that moment to chime in. "Oops, forgot to mention this last night, but the old bat's been nuttier than a fruitcake since your grandpa kicked the bucket. Even your wonder boy brother can barely get a kind word out of her these days. If you ask me, she's probably still salty about you disturbing her beauty sleep with last night's little… incident."

"You couldn't have told me this earlier?" Benjamin groused. He couldn't very well blow up at a little old lady, so the AI would have to be his verbal punching bag.

"What, that? Pffft, minor details! You didn't exactly press me for the old biddy's life story," the AI retorted, unabashed.

"…" Once again, Benjamin found himself outmatched by the AI's sheer audacity.

In the waking world, his grandmother took note of his silence. Her gaze sharpened.

"A young gentleman should mind his manners. That Fur boy's sleepwalking fits are hardly a new development. Though I've little fondness for the whelp, he IS a guest in our home. We must keep up appearances, lest the other noble houses think us uncouth. Wouldn't you agree?"

So THAT'S what this was about.

The gears in Benjamin's head spun. The AI had called it - his chamber pot stunt had absolutely landed him in hot water with the family matriarch.

But he still found the whole affair ridiculous. Had she taken him to task as a concerned grandmother scolding a misbehaving grandkid, he would have accepted the rebuke without complaint. But this passive-aggressive guilt trip? It was almost more than he could stomach.

Was a simple chat really too much to ask?

And another thing - he had JUST escaped a terrifying kidnapping by the skin of his teeth. Shouldn't his own flesh and blood show SOME concern? How could she carry on as if nothing had happened?

Seriously, what was WRONG with these people?

"Young people these days have no real talent. But playing deaf when their elders are speaking? THAT they've mastered to an art form. Wouldn't you say?"

Okay, now Grandma was really starting to get on his nerves.

"Well, if there's no breakfast, I think I'll go back to my room and rest. Please, don't let me interrupt your meal, Grandmother." The words fairly leapt from his tongue, his annoyance getting the better of him. But a part of him reveled in this small rebellion against her haughty attitude.

Watching his grandmother's eyes go wide with shock, her wrinkled eyelids fluttering in disbelief, was deeply satisfying. For once, she seemed at a loss for scathing remarks.

Not trusting himself to keep a civil tongue if he stayed any longer, Benjamin got up from his seat and gave his grandmother a sarcastic little bow. Then he turned on his heel and marched out of the parlor, head held high, ignoring the stunned stares boring into his back.

His grandmother clutched a hand to her chest, glancing around the room as if expecting an explanation to appear out of thin air. "What in the world has gotten into that boy? Was it something I said? To just walk out in the middle of breakfast… how very odd, wouldn't you agree?"

The servants traded helpless looks, none daring to speak up.

Meanwhile, Benjamin had already returned to his bedchamber.

The instant he shut the door, the AI's voice sounded in his mind once more.

"Way to go, champ! After that little display, everyone will be thinking, 'Yep, that's our Benjamin, same as always. Not acting weird at ALL!' No one's gonna doubt you now. I'm so proud, I could cry!"

A vein pulsed in Benjamin's temple. "Shut it. I've reached my daily limit for putting up with sass."

"Then what ARE you gonna do? The old Benjamin was a total doormat. The way you just acted, people are gonna start thinking something's fishy." The AI's tone was thick with doubt.

"They won't. No one will suspect a thing." Slowly but surely, Benjamin felt his equilibrium returning. His features smoothed, betraying no hint of unease.

"And you're basing this on… what, exactly?" The AI clearly wasn't buying it.

"It's simple, really. BECAUSE the old Benjamin was such a pathetic pushover." Benjamin paused, collecting his thoughts. "It follows that no one ever paid much attention to him or gave a damn what he was thinking. So even if I keep acting like this, the worst they'll assume is that poor, pitiful Benjamin finally snapped and grew a backbone. They'll be surprised, sure… but not suspicious."

"Yet again, I gotta ask - why so confident about this?"

"Because, my dear doltish digital companion - I'm quite clever, and you're quite… not."

"…" For once, the AI was speechless.

As he'd turned his back on the parlor, Benjamin had made a point to study the servants' expressions. Shock had been written all over their faces, it was true. But after mulling it over, he was certain theirs was more of a "Whoa, the young master finally lost it after all this time" type of surprise and not a "Holy crap, the young master's been possessed by a demon" type of surprise.

This realization put him at ease.

To put it bluntly, even if his behavior got weirder, everyone would probably just assume that all the stress and the trauma of being kidnapped had made his personality do a 180. The idea of possession or… ugh, "transmigration" wouldn't even cross their minds.

And why would it? When you got right down to it, no one had ever REALLY paid attention to Benjamin Lither. He was a good-for-nothing, an embarrassment, totally beneath notice. Even a major shift in attitude wasn't likely to raise many eyebrows.

Far from finding this fact depressing, Benjamin felt a distinct thrill of victory.

To go unnoticed, to be overlooked - THAT was the perfect position for a budding mage.

"Well, if there was ever a time to sneak out undetected, this is it," Benjamin mused aloud.

"Sneak out? And go WHERE, exactly?" The AI sounded completely lost.

"Why, the cathedral, obviously."