Pramit rose unsteadily to his feet. The world around him felt both weightless and real, like a dream that refused to fade. A soft breeze swept through the valley, carrying the scent of pine and something ancient — magic, perhaps.
He looked down at himself and froze. The clothes he wore were nothing like the ones from his old life: a white tunic woven with fine, unfamiliar fabric, bound by a brown leather belt, and boots that hugged his feet as if made just for him. Even his hands looked different — smoother, stronger, pulsing faintly with warmth beneath the skin.
Drawn to the sound of trickling water, he stepped toward a nearby puddle that mirrored the sky above. As he leaned closer, the reflection staring back made his breath catch. It was him — and yet, it wasn't. His face looked younger, sharper, his eyes glowing faintly with silver light, like distant stars caught within.
"What happened to me?" he whispered.
The wind answered only with silence.
All around, the land stretched in serene beauty — too quiet, too perfect. No city hum, no distant voices, no trace of the life he once knew.
He placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat — steady, alive, real.
"I guess… this really is my new life."
And for the first time, the thought didn't scare him. It thrilled him.