Jay blinked.
Nothing changed.
He was still on the couch. Too soft. Too big. It dipped under his weight in a way his own furniture never did. The glass in his hand was cold against his fingers. He hadn't noticed picking it up.
The wine inside barely moved when he tilted it.
"…What?" he murmured.
A second ago he'd been in his apartment, standing in front of the coffee maker, wondering if it was worth fixing or if he should just leave it broken another week. Now there was a light overhead that wasn't buzzing, and the room smelled… wrong. Not bad. Just unfamiliar.
He shifted. The fabric under him didn't crease. His shirt suddenly felt thin.
Jay took a small sip of the wine before he could talk himself out of it.
It tasted better than it should have.
He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, waiting for something to happen. For the room to blur. For his phone to buzz. For anything that made sense.
"This isn't mine," he said.
He waited for the feeling to pass. But it didn't.
--------
Some time passed.
Jay wasn't sure how much. Long enough that the light in the room shifted, long enough that the silence stopped feeling temporary.
He tried not to think too hard about it. About waking up. About whether this was real. He'd already gone in circles there and come out nowhere.
He rubbed his face and stared at the room again, like looking might make something slip.
Nothing did.
"Why am I here," he said, more tired than confused. The sound of his voice faded into the walls , nothing else.
The bottle on the table caught his eye. He didn't know why. It was just there, dark glass, half full.
Jay thought about drinking.
The bottle lifted.
It didn't jerk or wobble. It rose slowly, steady as if held by a careful hand. Wine poured itself into his glass and stopped. The bottle lowered back onto the table without a sound.
Jay didn't move.
His fingers curled once against the cushion. His breath went shallow. He became very aware of his heartbeat.
He looked down at his hands.
Then, after a moment, he brought the glass up and took a small sip. The wine tasted the same as before.
"…Right," he said.
The word didn't do much.
He leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. His reflection caught in the dark glass across the room, eyes brighter than they should have been.
And Red.
That was new too.
Jay closed his eyes for a count of three and opened them again.
Nothing changed.
This wasn't a dream. And it wasn't going away.
The thought settled low in his stomach, wrong and unwelcome.
He sat there with it, glass in hand, trying to figure out what came next.
Nothing volunteered.
-----------------------
Days turned into weeks.
And Jay...no, Raizel.....was still struggling to come to terms with reality.
Transmigrating into someone as cool as Raizel? Not bad. But living as Raizel? Less cool. Watching and reading about an overpowered character was one thing. Being one came with an exhausting amount of responsibility.
Worst of all, if this world followed the original manhwa's timeline, then at some point, he'd have to fight some of the worst enemies imaginable. And given how many times Raizel almost died in the actual story, that was a problem.
A long nap sounded very tempting. If he just followed the original timeline and disappeared, no one would know he was still alive. It was a solid plan. Low effort. High reward. The only flaw?
Dr. Crombel.
That mad scientist was still running around with his god complex. And if Jay went into hibernation now, he had a sneaking suspicion the world might not be in one piece when he woke up. And if the world wasn't in one piece… well, that affected him, didn't it?
That made the whole "sleeping for a few centuries" plan less appealing.
Jay sighed and turned to the window. The sight of Forks, Washington: dull, rainy, suspiciously full of trees...offered little comfort. He still wasn't sure why he ended up here of all places. Korea, sure. Some secret lab? Makes sense. But Forks? This place didn't exist in Noblesse.
Nothing made sense.
At least, for now, nothing had gone wrong. Yet.
----------------------
Days became weeks. The house stayed quiet. The rain did not.
He learned the place by living in it. The rooms were too still. The air held wet wood and cold earth. Forks was trees and grey sky, day after day, as if the sun had forgotten the road.
He stopped waiting for the world to mend itself.
The name in his head changed by use. Jay belonged to a small room and a life with corners. Raizel belonged to class and authority and long spans of time that did not count themselves in days.
The body brought its own habits. The eyes held their distance. When he spoke, the voice came out low and final, as if it had always been that way.
That was the part that troubled him most. How easily stillness fit.
He could have slept. The thought returned more than once. Not as some grand choice, but as a simple thing: close your eyes, and let years pass over you like water. Let time solve what you could not.
But others would move while he lay still.
Frankenstein, for one.
And if the world here kept to any sort of sense, there would be men like Dr. Crombel, men who mistook want for right.
He stood at the window and watched the trees bow under the rain. A road cut through them, dark and wet. Cars passed now and then, their tires hissing on the pavement.
This place did not feel like manhwa he remembered.
That thought came back often. It did not improve with repetition.
A car drew up outside.
Know who it is, so did not need to look to know who it was.
Footsteps approached. Light and Measured. The latch lifted.
The door opened.
Frankenstein entered with his usual neatness, damp at the shoulders. His face was mild. His eyes were not.
"Master," he said, and bowed. "I've returned."
Jay nope, Raizel inclined his head.
Frankenstein's gaze moved through the room without seeming to. The glass on the table. The books left untouched. The curtain drawn a finger's breadth too far to one side. He took it all in and said nothing of any of it.
"I apologize for the time away," he went on. "There were… developments."
Raizel turned his head a little. Permission.
Frankenstein came closer. His voice dropped, though there was no one to overhear them but the rain.
"Forks is small, Master. That makes irregularities easier to notice."
He paused there, watching Raizel's face as if it might betray something.
"I encountered an individual at the hospital," he said. "He presents as human. He is not."
Raizel did not move. His eyes stayed on Frankenstein, steady.
Frankenstein's mouth curved, polite and faintly pleased, the look he wore when a problem offered itself. "His physiology is unusual. Temperature below normal. Heart rate… there is none. And yet he moves among humans without provoking suspicion."
"A vampire," Raizel said softly.
Frankenstein's eyes brightened. "Yes, Master. But not one of the types we have seen before."
Raizel remain silent as Frankenstein continued as if reading from a page only he could see. "He does not appear to hunt. There is no recent evidence of feeding on human blood. His restraint is… remarkable."
Raizel's gaze shifted the barest fraction. A question without words.
Frankenstein answered it anyway. "His name. Carlisle Cullen."
For a moment Jay's thoughts simply stopped.
"Wait a mintute!" Raizel thought.
Even thought Raizel's face remained composed. This body was practiced at that. Inside, the name struck and echoed.
Frankenstein watched him all the while.
"Master," he said, still courteous, but quieter now, "do you know this name?"
Raizel looked back to the window and let the rain fill the space between them.
"…I don't," he said.
It was a lie. Not exactly.
Frankenstein dipped his head, accepting the answer while setting it aside to examine later. "Then I will proceed cautiously. If such beings exist here, there may be others."
Raizel's fingers rested on the window frame, light as if he feared the wood might break beneath him. "Do not draw attention."
Frankenstein smiled. "Of course, Master."
Outside, the rain kept falling as it had before. The trees kept bending. The road kept shining dark.
Inside, something had shifted all the same.
"Crossover?"