The headache gradually eased, and the world around started making sense again.

The reflection staring back at me looked like the teenage version of myself. Somehow, I seemed to have "de-aged."

I was originally twenty-four years old.

“T-this… this isn't a dream. It all feels too real. Is it something supernatural?” I whispered, my breath shaky.

Perhaps it was the headache that had kept the dread of waking up in a different world at bay. But now that the pain was gone, the anxiety was building up.

I dug my nails into my palms to make sure... yea, no dream.

I took a deep breath, trying to think it through, one step at a time.

First, while I was on the train to Myria, the sky exploded, and I blacked out, I thought. When I woke up... I was here, in this strange setting, with a status window hovering in front of me.

And then there was this new feeling, something about my hands—a certain sensation… I paused as I felt something cold in my hand, carrying an odd sense of personality. I opened my fist to find a pebble.

I let it drop. It sent ripples through the clear pond water, distorting my reflection. Pushing off the guardrail, I began to stroll through the park. Kids laughed and played nearby, a few couples occupied the swings, and a group of old men sat on a bench, tossing breadcrumbs to the geese. I sat down beside them on an empty bench.

Nano’s voice resonated in my head: [Master Noah, I’ve lost connection to Reynar Biotech’s servers, but I’ve detected a basic version of the internet. Shall I attempt access?]

Sighing, I replied, “Go ahead, Nano.”

It seemed Nano’s connection to the World Wide Web had been lost. Not that it surprised me.

This park was near the flat where I had woken up after the strange …‘transmigration’.

Stepping out to gauge my surroundings seemed like the only way to make sense of this new reality, and my walk eventually led me here.

That flat wasn’t just a random place—it belonged to another Noah Grey. Not someone else with a coincidental name, but another me. A version of myself from this world.

Closing my eyes, I began thinking.

Four things have happened to me: first, that train explosion somehow caused a paradoxical anomaly that sent me to a different world—this world. Like transmigration.

I woke up in my original body, but I seemed to have de-aged to my teenage self.

Earlier, a surge of information had been injected into my mind along with a splitting headache. Although the pain had faded, the information itself remained—memories of a different Noah Grey, a younger version of myself from this… reality.

It seems like we might have swapped places.

And lastly, there was the gift I received in my status: The Manuscript. It seemed to be a record of some fictional story.

Nano spoke again, breaking my thoughts: [Master Noah, I’ve been able to connect to a certain World Wide Web, but it appears altered. Should I proceed?]

“Yes,” I said.

Suddenly, a red flash message flickered across my vision: [Connection established. Date detected: 2012. Location: St. Sebastin, human domain, continent of Tressia. Current environment differs significantly from known Earth parameters.]

“Tressia… Human domain, two thousand twelve,” I repeated each word slowly, weighing everything carefully in my mind.

I looked up at the blue sky, so unlike the orange one I knew. “This really is a different world. And that manuscript… what was it?”

I needed time to think this through.

Hours went by, and as they did, the landscape changed. The noise died down, the laughter echoed off into silence. People retreated to their homes. Soon, I sat alone in the sunset. When it was dark, I pulled myself to my feet.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

On the way back to the flat, I caught a glimpse of an old man reading a newspaper from the corner of my eye, the headline read in big, bold letters: The Sunday Times: The Arachnid’s Lair Finally Vanquished by the Shadow Blade Guild!

Newspapers... fancy. Everything around me felt antiquated.

Magic was real in this world.

Darkness crept in as I walked back. Iron shutters had lowered on all the shop windows. People had gone home. It felt like one of those dreams that troubled my sleep, except this time, the dream didn’t break.

Opening the door to the flat, I switched on the light.

It was a one-room flat. A bed, a dresser, and a small desk by the window where an ancient-looking smartphone lay, a relic of another time.

2012, I reminded myself.

Turning on the phone, I browsed through its contents. Albums showed photos of the “other” Noah’s friends and family. His parents, according to the memories I now carried, had died in an incident shrouded in mystery. He lived with his uncle and aunt, Ethan and Ava Moonshade. Nothing caught my attention—except for a file labeled File ex. Hero program.

The word hero caught my eye. In this world, it had a different meaning. A very important meaning.

I tapped on it. Wham!

A flood of information filled my vision.

_______________

User ID: Noah Grey

Age: 17

Picture: (An ugly image)

Program: Hero program, 1st year

Institute: Arcanum Blades Academy

Profession: None

________________

"I'm enlisted in the Hero Program?" I muttered, feeling slightly baffled. "No...he was enlisted in the Hero Program. And now, I'm him."

Hmm… Not good.

***

They called this world Draeth. Magical creatures, mana, spells—all of it was real here. I knew this because I’d inherited the memories of my other variant.

And just like in any virtual reality game, this world had the concept of a status window. I had one too. And according to that Status, I had a Gift.

Gift referred to certain manifestations of supernatural power that one was born with. There were different types of gifts—mind control, invisibility, flight, and others. But gifts were rare. Only one in a hundred thousand people were born with them.

Mine was the Manuscript.

In general terms, a manuscript is a draft of a novel that’s submitted to a publisher or editor before publication.

And I seemed to possess the manuscript of the world itself. But this ‘Manuscript’ wasn’t physical in nature; it was in my head. It told me about the concepts of this world, names of places, important ‘characters’ and the major events that would occur, as if it were fiction. The information was fragmented, and the story itself was far from complete.

“What did the search bring up, Nano?” I asked, though I already had a hunch.

[Accessing civil records, biometrics, census data, and legal archives from the Central Union gave no results.]

“No results?” I repeated.

[Affirmative. It’s not that Reynar Biotech Institute couldn’t be found. It simply doesn't exist here.]

“Like it never existed,” I murmured.

[Correct.]

Then, the people from my world wouldn’t exist here either. My mother. My sister. Searching for Acacia or Sylph Grey would lead nowhere.

Makes sense… I’m the one who was transmigrated. Not them.

On Earth, The Dominion ruled. Here, in Draeth, the Central Union held control over the human domain.

For a moment, I wondered—could this be a parallel Earth? I wasn’t a scientist, but it seemed plausible. Another version of me used to exist here, after all—someone who was, frankly, more helpless than I was, judging by his memories.

But the more I thought about it, the more I dismissed the idea. This world resembled Earth, yes, but it wasn’t a simple parallel. It was something else. And without any grasp of the cosmos, jumping to conclusions would be foolish.

Still, one thing seemed clear: if there was a way in, there had to be a way out.

But speculating on paradoxes wasn’t my priority. Not yet. The focus now was…survival.

The other Noah’s memories indicated his potential was rank C. Pretty lame. But the Central Union mandated that all who had a potential capacity of rank C and above must attend a ‘magic institute.’

Which led to my current problem.

I had to blend in. Pretend to be ‘Noah Grey of Draeth.’

But then there was Arcanum Blades Academy, where the other Noah was enrolled due to the Hero Program. And worse—the Manuscript’s protagonist was there too, in the same year.

Yes, a 'protagonist.'

According to the Manuscript, there exist a being in this world... A being just like the protagonists they portray in fiction.

I couldn’t imagine a worse scenario.

According to the Manuscript in my mind, the protagonist and the main cast were like disaster magnets. Wherever they went, trouble followed. Attending the same institute as them meant signing my own death warrant.

“What should I do?”I ended up muttering.

‘The Mysteries. Find them.’ A faint command echoed in my mind. Before I could contemplate it further, an annoying beep rang in my ear, silencing everything around me.

What happened? No—what was I doing? Was. I was... but what?

A soft thud snapped me back—like the world reminding me it still existed. A fly, mindlessly persistent, bumped against the window. A thought grew at the back of my mind like a pressure behind my eyes, and again, the thud against the glass. The fly was still there, battering itself against the pane.

My current situation.

Right. My current circumstances.

There was time before the academy started. Right now, I was in Krenada. Good. Krenada wasn’t far from Avalonia. I had to find the Mystery of Teleportation hidden there. If I couldn’t, well... death would come soon enough. Whether from the chaos the Protagonist would bring to the academy shores, or by defying the Central Union and getting posted to the regional walls as a soldier trainee against my will.

I set the phone down and stumbled across the room, catching a glimpse of myself in the floor mirror. I stared. Disgust crawled over me. One more eternity.

I fled from my image and fell onto the bed. I watched the ceiling. I would like to sleep.

The next morning, I headed for Krenada’s train station.