A hooded old man stood silently, gazing at the altar before him. The flickering candlelight illuminated the stone surface.
Disheveled black hair swayed in his vision as he moved closer. Beside him, a white-bearded elderly man, his only friend and collaborator in this grim endeavor, exhaled anxiously.
"This ritual offers no guarantees," the white-bearded man said, his voice trembling. "The child's soul may not return whole. An external force might seize him instead."
The man in the black hood gave no reply. He continued to approach the altar, determination etched into his every step. The ritual comnced with deliberate precision. He drew the required sigils and chanted the prescribed incantations, his voice imbued with desperate hope.
His dark eyes mirrored the flickering candlelight, full of yearning. The sigils etched upon the altar began to radiate, their intricate patterns spreading outward. Shadows seed to deepen, and darkness coiled ominously around the markings.
Beneath the altar, the air stirred as waves of energy pulsed outward, their intensity growing until the vibrations echoed through the void. The atmosphere grew dense with foreboding, and the white-bearded man's unease beca palpable.
It was too late to turn back.
Raising both hands high, the man in the black hood shouted with fervor, "Awaken!"
Now
The young man stood before a mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. His jet-black hair and red eyes frad a youthful face that appeared to belong to soone in their late teens. It bore similarities to his forr self, yet it was undeniably different.
He knew he had to adapt, but each glance in the mirror left him uneasy. Determined to focus, he slapped his cheeks with both hands, the sound echoing in the room. He needed clarity.
The world he found himself in was anything but ordinary. Magic, knights, divine powers, dragons, and monstrous creatures abounded—phenona he had only encountered in fantasy novels. While life superficially resembled the Middle Ages, its essence was entirely alien.
The civilized society where he, as an orphan, had once lived relatively peacefully, was no more. His priority now was survival. The very thought of being discovered made him shudder.
This world, steeped in religious fervor and belief in demons, allowed no room for deviation. A single misstep could cost him his life. If anyone uncovered the truth—that he was not of this world—there would be but one outco.
Execution by fire.
To avoid such a fate, he resolved to mimic the habits of his current identity while holding tightly to the mories of who he truly was. He steeled himself once more, determined to leave the past buried and focus on the present.
His mind drifted back to the mont he first awakened in this unfamiliar body. Days ago, he had opened his eyes to find his head bloodied, his limbs contorted unnaturally.
The excruciating pain had jolted a mory to the surface—his aircraft had crashed. He had been performing aerial maneuvers during an airshow when a chanical failure caused the engine to fail.
As the plane plumted, he instinctively reached for the ejection button but hesitated, picturing the packed spectator stands. The hesitation was brief. He had no family to mourn him; as an orphan, there was no one to grieve his loss. Accepting his fate, he gripped the controls and aid for an unpopulated area, ensuring the safety of others.
He rembered the final monts vividly: the gray runway growing larger in his tear-filled eyes, the cacophony of alarms, and the undeniable knowledge that he wouldn't survive.
Yet here he was. Alive. Sohow.
His crash had been catastrophic—survival should have been impossible. But instead of dying, he had awakened in this body, with a world of questions and no answers.
The people who had rushed to him upon his awakening wore strange clothing and had hair and eyes in colors that defied natural explanation. The ceiling above him was adorned with a lavish tapestry. He wasn't in a hospital.
The conclusion was undeniable.
He, a 34-year-old Air Force pilot from The U.S, had sohow been transported to another world and reborn in another body.
The enormity of it all had overwheld him. He had fainted, consciousness fading as unfamiliar mories began to seep into his mind.
Were they the mories of this body's forr owner? That seed to be the case. At the very least, it offered so solace.
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