I stood there motionless. I wasn't moving. I wasn't even breathing properly. My lungs felt tight, and my heart was thumping a rhythm I didn't recognize.
The room was quiet—too quiet. No wind outside the windows. No voices in the hall. There was no dramatic background music like the ones that played when I sat safely behind my computer screen back on Earth.
There was just the faint, rhythmic crackle of a candle flickering somewhere behind me and the soft, annoying tick… tick… of a mechanical clock on the wall.
I didn't know how long I'd been staring. Minutes? Hours? Time felt wrong. It felt slippery, like I was trying to grab onto a shadow.
I stared at the reflection in front of me. And no matter how many times I blinked, no matter how hard I rubbed my eyes, the image didn't change. It felt unreal.
"That's not me…"
My voice was a raspy whisper, barely audible even to myself. I know my body. Back on Earth, I wasn't some supermodel, but I had an okay face. I had black hair and brown eyes.
But this… this was definitely not my body.
The mirror showed a boy—no, a young man—with skin as pale as white, stretched tight over a narrow, fragile frame. He had sloping shoulders and thin arms. His hands looked too bony, his fingers long and pale.
But overall, this body screamed "Noble." It had the structure of someone important; it just needed some meat on the bones. It looked neglected.
Slowly, hesitantly, I raised one of those hands. My fingers were trembling. The reflection copied me perfectly, matching every movement.
My throat tightened.
Black hair—thick and messy. It fell over my forehead like it had never known a comb in its life. It framed a face that should've looked imposing, maybe even divine… but it was too gaunt. The cheeks were soft, the jaw sharp but weak. It was a body that had never been sharpened by effort or discipline.
It was the body of someone who had given up.
Moving down, I looked at the eyes. Ocean-blue. They were clear, deep, and beautiful.
They stared straight back at me with a look of pure shock.
And then I saw it. Just below my left ear, trailing down the side of my neck—a tattoo. Sleek. Black. A katana wrapped in what looked like lightning. It stood out stark against that pale skin. It looked too elegant, too powerful for a body like this weak.
I reached out and touched my face. My skin felt real. It felt warm.
"…This isn't my face," I muttered.
My fingers fumbled as they traced the unfamiliar bridge of a nose that wasn't mine. I pressed my lips together—they felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I pulled my hand back fast, as if the skin had burned me.
"I'm not on Earth… and this isn't my body."
Saying it out loud didn't help. It didn't make the room feel any more real. My chest rose sharply as I sucked in a panicked breath.
"…Didn't I die?"
The memory hit me like a physical blow. Cold steel. A sharp, hot burst of pain in my gut. The sickening realization that the ground was coming up to meet me. My lungs burning for air that wouldn't come. Then, that blinding white light, and then… nothing.
"I died," I muttered, my voice cracking.
So what the hell was this?
"…Is this some kind of transmigration?'
A weak, pathetic laugh slipped out of me. "Hah… that's absurd."
It felt like a fantasy trope. The kind of cliché that only happened in web novels and games. You die, you get hit by a truck or stabbed, and you reincarnate or transmigrate into a new world. A world of magic and swords. A dream come true for a loser like me.
And yet—I looked back at the mirror. I wasn't dreaming.
"Haaa…"
My hand slid down the glass, leaving faint streaks behind.
"This is really madness.'
I really died. And I really transmigrated.
Right on cue—
Ding!
The sound rang out inside my head, loud and sharp. I suddenly flinched hard. My heart almost slammed against my ribs.
"What the—?!'
Buzz… click…
The air in front of my eyes shimmered and warped. A faint blue light began to unfold, panels snapping into place like glass screens floating in mid-air.
[System Initializing…]
[Linking Soul Data…]
[Synchronization in progress…]
[Synchronization: 12%… 47%… 89%…]
[Synchronization status: Complete.]
"…No way.'
The screen shifted. Suddenly, two glowing eyes appeared on the panel, staring back at me.
[Hello, Host!]
"…Ah."
I stared at the eyes. Then, slowly, my lips twitched into a bitter smile.
"…Of course," I said dryly, staring straight at the glowing text. "I forgot for a second. The classic cliché. If you die and cross over, a System has to be there for you. So… you're a System?"
[Correct.]
"…You can talk?"
[Yes. I can.]
The voice wasn't robotic. It wasn't stiff or cold. It sounded… normal. Almost casual. Like it was bored of me already.
I dragged a hand down my face, "Great. I die, wake up in someone else's body, and now I've got a voice in my head too. Just perfect.'
[Clarification: You are not experiencing a hallucination. This is reality.]
'Oh, that's good to hear,' I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Thanks for the update."
I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to stop my hands from shaking.
"So, let me guess. You're here to help me? Like in the novels? A guide to help me overcome the 'dangers' of this world?'
I mean, the situation wasn't that bad if a System was here. It's the dream of every gaming nerd, isn't it? To die and be born into a world of swords and magic. A place where you can become powerful. You can enjoy luxury, find a harem, and live the life you never had on Earth.
I looked around at the room. The furniture was expensive—hand-carved wood, gold trim, high-tech devices I didn't recognize. With this room alone, I could guess that the previous owner of this body was from a very big noble family.
Heh. Maybe I can actually enjoy this life.
I was lost in my own thoughts of luxury when the System's voice groaned in my head, bringing me back to reality.
[Yes, I am here to guide you. However… you are being very delusional.]
"Huh? Delusional?" I snapped. This bastard System was already insulting me?
I stared at the panel and asked, "Fine, smart-ass. Are you going to tell me where I am?'
[You are currently located within the Celestial Estate.]
Celestial Estate? It sounded fancy. It sounded rich. My predecessor really was from a high noble family. I could really enjoy my—
[You have transmigrated into the world of: 'The Hero Chronicles'.]
Silence.
Absolute, dead silence.
My brain simply stopped. My heart skipped a beat. What did it just say? Hero Chronicles?
I stared at the panel, my voice a low, horrified mutter. "…You're joking, right?"
[Negative. This is the world of Aetheris.]
Suddenly, I started laughing. But it wasn't a happy laugh. it was bitter, sarcastic, and loud. It echoed off the stone walls.
I transmigrated into the world of The Hero Chronicles. The most difficult, punishing, "dark-fantasy" game I had been playing for four years. The same game I was playing right before I died. The game where almost everyone dies, and the world is literally destined to be destroyed.
"No way. There's no way! I got reincarnated into a world that is DESTINED to end? I'm doomed! I'm fucking doomed!"
I staggered back, my legs feeling like jelly. I bumped into the edge of the bed.
Thud!
Out of everyone. Out of every world. It had to be this one? What happened to my peaceful life? I could see my dreams of a peaceful and luxury crumbling into dust in front of my eyes.
"Huff… huff…"
I sighed, rubbing my temples as a headache started to bloom. "So… which character did I possess? Please tell me it's someone good. Who am I?"
[You are Leo von Celestial.]
Leo von Celestial? Why did that name feel so familiar? I racked my brain, trying to remember the character list. Was there a Leo? And then, it clicked.
"Ah… you mean 'The Human Domain Failure'?"
[Correct.]
I buried my face in my hands.
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!" I screamed into my palms.
The useless noble. The guy famous for having a 'B-rank' core despite being born into the legendary Celestial family. Driven by jealousy, he became a drunk and a delinquent. He used his noble name to bully people and hide his own weakness.
And the worst part? This guy dies before the main story even really starts. He's a nobody a minor kind of villain.
"Fuck… I'm dead for real this time," I whispered.
[Correction: Survival probability is currently non-zero.]
"Oh wow," I deadpanned, looking at the ceiling. "Amazing odds. I feel so much better."
I looked back at the mirror. At this body. At least the bastard was handsome. I couldn't deny that. And the tattoo… it did look cool.
"This is the character I used to skip through without a second thought…" I muttered. Then I paused. "…What about his memories? Why don't I know anything?"
[Memories are currently unintegrated.]
Ding!
[Notification: Memory Inheritance is now available.]
[Status: PENDING...]
I stared at the panel. "What happens if I don't take the memories?"
[You will lack contextual awareness, emotional alignment, and critical survival information. You will not know how to act, how to speak, or who your enemies are.]
"So, in simple words, I'm screwed."
[Correct.]
I let out a long, heavy sigh. "…Figures."
My finger hovered over the glowing blue panel. "Let me guess," I muttered. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"
I've read enough stories to know how this works. When the protagonist inherits memories, it's never a fun time.
[Warning: Memory inheritance will cause severe mental and spiritual pain.]
"…And how severe are we talking?"
[Extreme.]
"…Define extreme."
[Pain.]
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was full of sand. "…Like a bad headache? I can handle a headache."
[Like your soul being torn apart and rewritten. Or worse, permanent loss of consciousness.]
Silence.
"…That bad, huh."
Well, my life couldn't get any worse. First, the Abyss King tries to crawl out of my screen. Then I get into a fight with thugs. Then I die. And now I'm in a game world destined for doom, in the body of a loser who is supposed to die anyway.
"Haaa…"
This was driving me crazy. I closed my eyes, my jaw clenching. I can't get peace for even a moment, can I?
I stared at the system and said in a low, serious voice: "Do it."
The moment I confirmed—
BZZZZZT!
Pain exploded. It wasn't in my muscles. It wasn't in my bones. It was deeper. It felt like my soul was being gripped by iron claws and ripped open.
"G—AHH—!"
I screamed at the top of my lungs as the memories slammed into my brain like a physical weight.
Laughter. Mockery. I started to feel things—vile, ugly emotions that weren't mine. Jealousy. Resentment. Hatred. Images flashed like a broken film reel. The core rank ceremony. The shame of the 'B-Rank' core.
The crushing weight of expectations I could never, ever meet. My head felt like it was splitting in two.
My knees buckled.
Thud!
I hit the floor, my hands fumbling to hold onto anything, but the room was spinning too fast.
"STOP—!" I shouted, but my voice was lost in the roar of the memories.
Childhood. Humiliation. The first time I picked up a bottle of alcohol to forget. It all layered over my own life until I couldn't tell where I ended and 'Leo' began.
My vision blurred. I felt clinging shadows of regret wrapping around my chest.
"…I can't—"
Darkness began to creep in from the edges of my sight. As my consciousness started to slip away, I heard hurried footsteps and a panicked voice from the hallway.
"Y-Young Master?!"
A woman's voice. She sounded terrified. The door burst open with a loud bang.
That was the last thing I heard before my body went limp and the darkness swallowed me whole.
Everything went black.