A supernova exploded behind Adrian Vale's eyes, followed by a crushing headache that threatened to split his skull. He thrashed, gasping, a frantic struggle against an unseen current, until a jolt of pure instinct forced his eyes open.
He blinked, confusion clashing with the lingering pain. This wasn't his cramped apartment, or the familiar glow of his gaming monitor. This was… somewhere else. Completely, utterly, terrifyingly different.
He lay sprawled across an ornate bed draped in silk and gilded carvings—a throne disguised as furniture. The room itself was a study in old-world elegance—dark wood furniture, polished to a mirror sheen, everything meticulously placed. Not a speck of dust, not a single sign of wear. It spoke of careful hands and ancient secrets.
"Where the hell am I?" Adrian's hand shot to his throbbing temples. His gaze swept the unfamiliar space, searching for an anchor, anything familiar. It snagged, then widened, on a display in the room's far corner. His breath hitched.
"A… magic staff? Holy crap." His voice cracked, a dry whisper against the sudden, surreal silence.
He couldn't be blamed for his utter shock. Standing tall, almost pulsing with an inner light, was something straight out of a high-fantasy game. An artifact of impossible beauty.
The staff was ancient, yet vibrant, forged from a material that gleamed like polished jade, impossibly clear. Crowned at its tip was a sapphire, massive and luminous, radiating a deep, oceanic blue. This was no movie prop. This was real. And that reality hammered home a chilling thought: "What if this isn't a movie set? What if…"
A cold dread trickled down his spine. Adrian took a ragged breath, trying to steadfast the flood of panic. "No, wait… I was just playing. I remember… the game…" The memory was hazy, a fragmented mosaic of pixels and glowing text. He'd been immersed in his favorite RPG, finally snatching the legendary [Book of Eternity]—an item rumored to break the rules of magic itself. Then… a flash? A scream? Nothing. Just this room. And this impossible staff.
A single, terrifying word echoed in his mind: "Transmigration."
His heart hammered against his ribs. Countless scenarios, each more absurd than the last, flashed through his mind, but none explained the biting reality of his situation. He had to know. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the plush carpet feeling alien beneath his bare feet, and made it toward the staff. A primal urge, a gambler's need to confirm the impossible, pulled him forward.
His fingers grazed the cool, smooth jade. A low hum vibrated through the air, resonating deep within his bones. Then, a pulse of light erupted. A shimmering, water-blue aura, profound as the deepest ocean trench, yet intimately familiar, bloomed around the staff. It felt… right. Like an extension of himself he never knew he had.
"What in the…!?" Adrian staggered back, his mind reeling. The power crackled around him, vibrant and terrifying. It defied all logic, shattered every known law of physics. This was beyond games, beyond imagination. This was… magic. And he had just touched it.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar ripped through the thin calm, shaking the very foundations of the room: "Who dares touch my [Staff of Starlight]?! Do you have a death wish, boy?!"
Before Adrian could even process the words, the door was violently kicked open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crash.
An old man stormed in, a whirlwind of furious energy. His long, grey robe, inscribe with arcane symbols, billowed around him. Though his hair was a mane of white and his face a roadmap of wrinkles, his eyes blazed with a youthful fury, and his movements were surprisingly agile. He looked like a medieval wizard, fresh from a brawl.
He glared at Adrian, nostrils flaring. "You brat! Is this how you repay your savior?! Didn't your parents teach you anything about respecting other people's property? Or are you just a common bandit?"
Adrian forced a strained smile, trying to calm his racing heart. "Savior?" That was new. He decided to play it safe. "Excuse me, sir… but where exactly am I?"
The old man's jaw dropped, his anger momentarily forgotten, replaced by sheer astonishment. "You don't know where you are?! This is the back mountain of Azure Flame Academy, by the Aqua Lake!"
Azure Flame Academy?
The strange names, the magic staff, the old man's attire—it all clicked into place with a horrifying, exhilarating certainty. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a game. It was real.
The word 'transmigration' solidified in Adrian's mind, heavy and inevitable. He felt like he'd been hit by a runaway carriage. He'd always read about it, joked about it, but to actually be it…
"Well, better transmigration than dead, I guess," he thought, a dark humor bubbling up. He was alive. And in a world of magic.
The old man, still fuming, suddenly remembered his precious staff. He snatched the [Staff of Starlight] from its stand, his gnarled hands caressing the jade with an almost absurd tenderness, as if it were a lost child.
"You little rascal! This [Staff of Starlight] is a treasure this old man paid a king's ransom for! You nearly gave me a heart attack. But… you resonated with it. That means your magical talent isn't bad at all!" His initial panic replaced by a new, avid curiosity, Anthony scrutinized Adrian.
Magic power? The words felt foreign, yet thrilling. Adrian recalled the staff's impossible reaction, the warmth in his hands. A chaotic symphony of possibilities ignited in his mind. "What exactly… is magic power?" he asked, the question tumbling out before he could stop it.
The old man's eyes bulged, his voice rising several octaves. "You don't even know what magic power is?! You've never studied magic?!"
"No," Adrian admitted, the word a tiny spark igniting a massive bonfire of anticipation within him. This was it. A world of actual magic. As a lifelong gamer who'd always favored mages, the idea of wielding true arcane power sent a shiver of pure, unadulterated excitement through his entire being.
"Impossible!" Anthony roared, throwing his hands up in theatrical despair. "No one who hasn't studied magic can resonate with my [Staff of Starlight]!" He was flabbergasted. The sapphire at the staff's tip was a high-purity magic crystal, attuned only to those with exceptional magical aptitude. Yet this brat, this clueless newbie, had awakened it!
"Touch my staff again!" Anthony commanded, his voice edged with desperate disbelief.
Adrian blinked. He chose, wisely, not to comment—and reached for the staff again.
Again, the brilliant blue light erupted, but this time it was denser, more vibrant, an impossible azure that filled the room. Far beyond the academy grounds, something ancient stirred—as if a long-buried will had just been called back into the world.
The old man's mouth hung open, his eyes wide as saucers. "You really haven't studied magic? Not even a single spell?"
Adrian shook his head. Still unconvinced, Anthony grabbed Adrian's hand, performing a thorough, almost violent, examination. He muttered incantations, traced invisible lines, but found nothing. Adrian's body was utterly devoid of magic power. Nothing. Yet, the staff responded to him like a lover. The old man's gaze sharpened, turning Adrian into a specimen under a microscope.
To possess no magic, yet to ignite a high-tier magic crystal—what an incomprehensible talent! Such an affinity for magic was monstrous, a raw, untamed power Anthony had never encountered in his entire lifetime. It defied all known logic.
Adrian, snapping back from his awe, found the old man staring at him with an intense, almost predatory fervor, his wrinkled face creased into a strangely eager, flower-like smile. An inexplicable unease, a delicious shiver of both dread and excitement, snaked down Adrian's spine. A strange thought struck him.
That's not how a man looks at a random brat. That's how a mage looks at destiny.
Then, a sentence, dripping with irresistible temptation, hung in the air between them:
"Brat… do you want to become something this world has never seen before?"