New World New Life

The veil of darkness was still hanging in the room. However, a young boy, estimated to be around 14-15 years old, with brown hair, wheat-colored skin, a thin and innocent face, suddenly jolted upright in bed. His appearance was as if he had been pulled from the clutches of a terrible nightmare.

A sharp pain echoed inside his head. His mind was filled with fog, his memories vague and blurred.

"Damn it… my head hurts so much," he whispered. Even moving was painful, as if his body was foreign to him.

Just as he tried to sit up, his eyes caught sight of two people in the room. A couple in their sixties, standing close to each other... There was worry in their eyes, and an uncertain expression on their faces.

Before he could question who they were or why they were here, the world spun around him, and his vision went black.

The relentless crowing of a rooster signaled the arrival of morning. The first rays of the day filtered through the thin curtain of the window, striking Alek's face. He half-opened his eyes and carefully examined the unfamiliar environment he was in.

As he sat up, he looked at his hands. These were not his hands. Younger, untouched by life, hands that had not yet gathered memories...

He lifted his head slightly but hesitated as he felt the presence of a bandage on his forehead. His fingers reached for the cloth wrapped around his head.

"Did the tunnel transfer me into someone else's body?" he thought. Even his own voice sounded unfamiliar to him.

He should have felt trapped in this strange new body, but oddly, everything felt natural. As if this body had belonged to him for years.

He whispered to himself:

"The wisdom of an old mind, combined with the energy of a young body... Now that's a perfect combination."

He would not make the same mistakes he had before. After all, youth was like a second chance.

The walls of the room he was in were made of adobe. It had a simple yet warm atmosphere. In a space that was neither too big nor too small, the bed, seating area, and kitchen were all in one.

A fireplace stood right in the middle of the room, built with old but sturdy stonework. The soot marks on the walls bore silent witness to the years of burning wood.

Alek watched the warm glow of the fire. Sparks danced inside the fireplace, the crackling sound of burning wood filled the air. He could listen to this comforting sound for hours.

But now was not the time to be mesmerized.

He needed to gather more information about where he was and how he had arrived here.

To shield himself from the cold, he wrapped a traditionally patterned blanket from the bed around his shoulders. Then, gently pushing the heavy wooden door open, he stepped outside.

The wind was softer than he had expected, but the morning chill could still be felt. His precautions had not been in vain.

His eyes landed on a small structure a little further from the house, resembling a shed. It was obvious that it was an outdoor toilet.

He thought to himself, "I never imagined I'd be in such an old-fashioned village house."

He furrowed his brows. The thought that this world was not very advanced unsettled him.

"Will I be able to find the comforts of my old world here?"

Just as he had been filled with joy at regaining his youth, he now realized that he would have to face the hardships of living in this new world.

As he walked forward with heavy steps, his eyes wandered toward the distant field. There, two figures were working the soil.

He paused for a moment. The people working in the field looked familiar to him.

Narrowing his eyes to get a better look, he realized that they were the elderly couple he had seen the night before.

The man, appearing to be in his late sixties, had a thick beard and a prominent nose. But what caught Alek's attention the most was the red, cone-shaped hat on his head.

This man seemed as if he had stepped out of ancient times, carrying his wisdom with him like an old tree.

The woman, on the other hand, had a few strands of black among her otherwise white hair, carrying the traces of the past. Her hazel eyes sparkled, and her flushed cheekbones reflected both the toughness and warmth that the years had given her.

But the most striking thing was their clothing.

She wore a black headscarf, but it was not a simple scarf—it was a work of art adorned with colorful floral motifs.

Her dress was black, but its collar and shirt were white, decorated with floral patterns. The black apron tied over her trousers was embellished with delicate pink flowers.

Even the dark mustard-colored boots on her feet reflected the craftsmanship and labor of past times.

The woman's stance carried both the diligence of a hardworking villager and the elegance of traditions that had stood the test of time.

Alek pulled his gaze away from the woman's clothes and fell into his own thoughts. If he had his phone with him, he would have taken a picture without hesitation.

But now, in this new world, he needed to learn who they were and what he was doing here.

He turned inward and searched his feelings. Not knowing who they were only deepened his unease.

"Why did I come here?"

And perhaps most importantly,

"What kind of fate will these people bring me?"