[ Chapter II (2): "HELLO, SYSTEM" ]
Torrin tries his best to not make his smile falter, albeit it did slightly, changing from the toothy excited smile to an "okay" smirk. Still, he ought to ask other questions at the least. [ "Oh wow, uhh- thank you, my lady." ]
[ "You are welcome, child." ]
He smiled at her, showing again his teeth, as he then asks her another question; this one equally as important as the former. If the former is location, then this one's all about time— day, month, year. Date to be precise.
[ "You see, uhh- my lady, I had this unfortunate incident." ] He paused, realizing that he doesn't know why he's at the medical ward minutes ago, so he didn't elaborate.
[ "That's terrible, are you now doing fine?" ]
Luckily, it seems that she didn't find any problem at all with Torrin's story, instead showing concern as she tries to reach out— unable due to her being a drawing. But still, the thought counts, something he noticed.
[ "Yes, yes. Thanks for the concern, I'm doing alright, great actually. But as you can see, I'm greatly confused." ] He then continued, palms sweating ever slightly. [ "Can you please tell me what day it is?" ]
[ "It's a Thursday dear." ] That's not enough.
[ "Of what month?" ]
[ "That'll be... September, dear." ] The lady answered, though on the last part she was a little bit confused, raising a brow. [ "Please do tell you weren't cursed to fall into coma." ]
Torrin picked up in-between the dialogue and realized that curses do exist, that, or she's talking in hyperbole, figurative speech or whatnot. Still, it's good to remember that fact, especially because he knows nothing of this magic world. [ "Last time I checked, no, my lady I-I didn't fall into coma." ]
Seeing her expression soften, he then asks the main question he really wanted to ask. [ "And uhh- the year?" ] Seeing her brows furrow again, he made up a lie. [ "It's basic questions, routine, a friend taught it to me." ]
[ "Oh, is that so?" ] She paused, then finally continuing, playing along with the little game of theirs. [ "Let's see, if I'm not wrong, then the year would be... 1988, in the year of our Lord." ]
In the year of our Lord? 1988? Torrin who lives in the 21st century where technology is advanced to the point that each questions, well, 99% of them could be answered with a click of a button— a search on the internet.
And if he's not wrong, in the year of our Lord means AD. Meaning, after death, or to be more precise Anno Domini in Latin; translated as "in the year of our Lord". And the 1988 part is the year... But, that part is likely to be wrong. [ "You sure?" ]
Because Torrin is a 21st century man, meaning, someone who lives in the year 2001, January 1st onwards. And Torrin specifically, he was born 2006— he is 15, and the year should be 2021, the month? He doesn't remember that bit.
But still, she is either off by 33 years, or Torrin is actually 33 years back in time. In the year before he was born, which makes things weird, that, or this magical world is on another timeline— the years, months, and days being nothing similar to the original.
[ "I am most certainly sure, dear." ] She answered in her cheery tone, not knowing that she just accidentally broke something inside of Torrin. She wouldn't know, he's still smiling like usual. [ "Go on then, ask me another. Thus far, I am really liking this routine you have, child." ]
For a moment, Torrin was lost in thought, not registering what the lady in the painting just said. But after he was called a few times by the lady, he snapped out of it, this time staring up at the lady without his smile.
[ I'm not born yet... wow." ]
[ "You aren't born, dear?" ]
[ "It's... It's nothing, ma'a- my lady. Merely musing to myself, you know." ] Torrin clarified, lying actually, because he didn't notice his thoughts slipping out to his little mouth, and that she heard what he said.
[ "Hey uhh- my lad-" ] About to fire off another question, he stopped midway, causing the other to be confused. Even him, more so him, because inside his head something just spoke— and as soon as it did, something appeared in front of him.
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[ "Yes, child?" ] The lady replied, noticing the subtle fact of Torrin's eyes widening, mouth hanging open. Which then closed. In curiosity and amusement, she asked. [ "What is the next question of yours?" ]
Curiously, she noticed his expression, reacted even. But why isn't she reacting to the words floating right in front, of the both of them, Torrin who sees it has his knees weak in shock. And yet, she doesn't respond?
[ "Yes, uhh- my lady, can you see w-what I'm seeing?" ] He tries not to stutter, difficult really, but he succeeded. And he asked her if she could see the words, which is counting up, words alongside changing from "Inventory", "Daily Mission", "Levelling", and other such videogame-like terms.
Something of which made Torrin glanced at it occasionally, his eyes widened in joy, because he knows what this means. This means that he has a golden finger, that he's gifted, that this new life would be fun. But he needs her to confirm his suspicion, so he asked again, tone impatient.
[ "C-can you?" ]
[ "Can see what?" ]
[ "Words?" ]
[ "Words?" ] She repeated, brows raised, and mildly amused judging from her facial expression; which is adorned with makeup.
Simple interaction, but that plus the too real visual hallucination counting up in front of him, is enough to make his heart raise— and for him to realize that he has been transmigrated into a novel, a story, a manga, or a poorly made fan fiction.
[ "Yeah, uh- no, it's-it's nothing." ] God, he prays that this wouldn't be the last one, because that means he would be placed into an already made world, with plot, with story, with defined themes. And also because, fan fictions tends to be... weird.
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[ "But-but, last question my lady." ] He paused, his gaze focused intently on the words floating in front of him— something only he could see.
In seeing her nod of approval in his peripheral, he then asked the question. [ "Where's- uhh- where's the nearest comfort room in this... castle? Yeah, castle. Where?" ]
To be precise, he needs to take a shit, he feels like he could, should, and would due to excitement. But also he needs a place to vent out all of his excitement, sooner rather than later, because he doesn't know how longer he could hold his excitement from bursting.
[ "Would that be all?" ] The flower lady asked, her expression turning to a slight frown, downcast because she wouldn't be able to chat anymore with someone. But then that disappeared, as she then points to her right, at the end of hall.
[ "Alright, right after you pass by the Charms Classroom, you would be able to see a lavatory; one for boys, and one for girls. You'll know when you get there." ] The gestures of her only limited by the frame, as Torrin noticed that she isn't 3D like him.
Instead she is confined inside her frame, a field of roses. But still, inside there she could interact and be 3D to some degree, as she isn't exactly 2D. More like there's a wall separating her from the real world, one where she can see pass but never walk through. [ "T-thank you." ]
For a moment he noticed the word Charms, or that there's a classroom for that in the castle. A surprise to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Perhaps this place that he spawned in is a school, a boarding school, or-or something along those lines; the thought made Torrin excited.
Which now should be a squared in this situation, because he also has a System counting up on his peripheral. Words etched besides it are gaming terms, all of which he's familiar with, as an avid lover of stories of course— and fine games.
Torrin shyly nod to the rose lady, before then scattering away to the direction she pointed at; walking pass the mace wielding Knight which he didn't payed any attention, mostly because he has a new toy, [ "Does it follow?" ]
He eyed the text in his peripheral, and to his surprise, when he moves, the texts also moves. Floating in the air, freely, in a constant pace with him; ever so in the same place, even though he's moving his feet.
Always in the middle, but thankfully, it's mostly see through, which made walking and stumbling into someone, or something along the way not an issue. [ "Holy shi- crap, it does...!" ] On the way there, he passed by a few paintings doing their thing, also Knights, and he even wonders if the vases talk.
Hey, I mean, Torrin thought there might be a chance of it happening, as he had seen many wonderful thing in the short span he has been there. But, alas, it seems the vases does not talk. [ "What a pity." ]
Finally he then turned to his left, to the boy's lavatory, almost accidentally entering the girl's; luckily he made a quick, sharp turn. [ "T-that would have been... embarrassing." ]
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[ FUN FACT: Magical Portraits at Hogwarts are sentient beings captured in paint, imbued using magic the ability to converse, express opinions, have egos, and even visit other portraits nearby. They function as both guardians, eyes and ears, and a lively, if often opinionated, information network. While they retain the personality of the person they depict, they are not the original person, but is rather enchanted echoes woven into the very fabric of history by using paint— and also a little wand waving. ]
[ 10/20/2025 ]
[ 10/21/2025 ]