A Unwanted Partner

It only took one look to bring me back down to earth — I wish it had. Ahead of me, a woman my height, decked out like the last boss in a Victorian funeral, stood in line. The dress? Darker than my dreams, buttoned to her throat as though she was allergic to joy. Sleeves poufing up like she was hiding all the secrets in her shoulders, and the skirt? It was poofed out so wide I was absolutely certain she could have smuggled a small militia underneath. It wasn't flashy — not a sparkle, not a glitter, not a lace, maybe not even a seditious stitch. But for some reason I felt underdressed... and a little guilty. As if I'd just entered her courtroom where she was the judge, the jury and possible executioner — and I was definitely guilty of something.

She looked human — mostly. But something about her presence made my skin crawl. An ominous weight settled in my gut, the kind that made every survival instinct in my body scream run.

"You came back... alive?" she said, her voice smooth and amused. "I guess that settles the bet."

Then she smiled. A wide, very wide smile. The kind of smile that made me want to turn around and sprint all the way back to the academy — to the exact spot I transmigrated from. Yeah, oddly specific, but that's how bad it was.

I had no idea how to respond. Ally? Foe? That smile didn't help me narrow it down.

Then she added a few words that flipped everything on its head.

"Usually, summoners don't live to tell the tale. But you did — so I'll give you props for that. As your reward, I will make my oath."

Excuse me, summoner? What the hell had Victor gotten himself into… and more importantly, why was I the poor fool inheriting the consequences? Curse you, Victor. Whatever kind of eldritch Tinder date you swiped right on, I want no part of it.

The mysterious female came up forward and knelt down like a knight being honered by the queen, she then put her right hand on her heart

"I, Syllia, daughter of the first devil, Diablo, swear my fealty to thee."

A violent gust of wind exploded around us. I hadn't even stepped inside my new home yet, and already things were spiraling out of control.

Darkness fell like a curtain, swallowing the surroundings in a blanket of shadow. The world shifted.

The next thing I knew, I was seated on a towering throne — and not the metaphorical kind either. A real one. Black, ancient, ominous. Below me, like some sort of dramatic RPG cutscene, the same woman — Syllia — knelt, arms extended, repeating her oath in a voice that echoed across the void.

What the actual f*** did I just witness?

And more importantly... where the hell am I?

As I peeked down from the throne, I squinted at her with suspicion.

She was shaking. Not the dramatic, fear-induced kind you see in plays — more like someone caught between a freezing blizzard and an electric chair. Her body twitched with a kind of static energy, and I couldn't tell if she was cold or just short-circuiting.

Then she muttered something — low, garbled. Whatever it was, it didn't sound like any language I knew.

But then she raised her head slightly, her eyes wide with reverence and fear, and stammered,

"O-oh… u-unblinded o-one… I s-speak in your p-presence… wh-what an h-honor to b-be in your… very p-presence…"

Yep. Definitely short-circuiting.

And what the hell is an Unblinded One?

"Did Victor really indulge in this cult-level BS? If he did, there's no defending him anymore. That bastard better be showing up in my dreams with an explanation."

Then, just as suddenly as it all started, the world snapped back to normal — no shadows, no eerie throne room, no vibrating spiritual seizure. Just me... and her.

Still at my damn doorstep.

She'd fainted — completely out cold, like whatever performance she just gave overloaded her spiritual CPU.

With a tired sigh and zero ceremony(Im not even fazed anymore), I scooped her up in my arms and stepped inside.

Finally.

If this was how every day was gonna start now, I needed a refund on reincarnation.

My home wasn't anything special — I'd already seen it in a memory flash when I got dumped into this body.

One modest living room, a single bedroom, a kitchen that doubled as a hallway, a cramped little office space with a desk that hadn't seen work in years, and last but not least... the balcony. The only redeeming feature of this glorified shoebox.

From what I remembered, Victor might've been disorganized — morally, spiritually, and probably academically — but he had an unhealthy obsession with hygiene. At least the kitchen was spotless.

Which made sense, I guess. He probably ate out like a degenerate and then cooked himself something sad to feel responsible.

I laid Syllia down gently on the couch — she was still out cold, mumbling something about loyalty and darkness like a bad sleepwalker.

I stepped out onto the balcony. The view? Stunning.

But I didn't have time to soak it in or start crying about how pretty the city looked.

I needed to get a grip on how the magic system in this world worked — and more importantly, figure out what the hell this book was and why it felt like it was pulsing with secrets.

Since there was no better place to get some actual work done, I headed for the office.

Big mistake.

The moment I stepped in, I found myself cursing Victor all over again.

Seriously, how unorganized do you have to be to make a fire hazard look like a study method? Books, cards, crumpled papers—somehow even a spoon—littered the floor. The tabletop? Nonexistent. Just layers of open tomes, scrolls, and research papers stacked like a monument to academic hoarding.

There was even a giant board covered in weird scribbles and half-baked diagrams. And speaking of writing... that's when it hit me.

I could read, and speak the language here.

Like, fluently.

Guess transmigration comes with a free language pack DLC. Thanks, I guess

After stacking the books and semi-organizing the warzone Victor called an office, I figured if his last act was some kind of research project, then maybe—just maybe—it had something to do with my transmigration… and that Syllia person.

With that logic in mind, I sat down and cracked open the book I got from ryan.

Two things stood out immediately:First, the English on the first page was apparently the only few English phrases in the entire thing. The rest of the pages were filled with diagrams—circles, numbers, symbols I had no hope of understanding—and each diagram was labeled with a Roman numeral.

Then I saw a phrase that made me pause.

Not because it was profound.

But because it made me question what kind of fever dream I was trapped in.

"Science isn't prevalent here."

Well, fantastic. I'm stuck in a world that runs on vibes and metaphysics. What could possibly go wrong?

But the phrase that followed cleared things up—well, kind of.

"Magic is the science of this world. Its power. Its fuel. How pitiful they are, if only they knew."

Okay, what the hell was that? Was this guy a scholar or a moody poet? Great, so in place of science, we have magic. Wonderful.

Real question though—how relevant can i make science here? Can I use it to hack this so-called magic system? Because if not, I'm royally screwed. My only weapon is what's between my ears, and if that doesn't work, I'm basically just a tourist with a death wish.

But the words kept coming, like a dramatic villain monologue nobody asked for:

"Science could be the key to unlocking the truth. And here, I relay to you the key. These diagrams and circles are the fusion of my scientific knowledge and the magic of this world. To you, the unlucky soul who's reading this—your journey has just begun."

There hasn't been a statement—aside from my religious beliefs, and yes, I'm a strong believer—that's ever made me feel so much at once. Fear? Excitement? Hope? Existential dread? Probably all of the above.

But one thing was painfully clear: I'm not the only unlucky schmuck who got isekai'd.

Let me guess. The final goal is to defeat some apocalyptic demon king?

Yeah… let's not go down that thought rabbit hole just yet. I'd like to enjoy five seconds of peace first.

Looking through the diagrams again, I noticed each one had a series of numbers and geometric shapes. They were probably magic circles—just a matter of connecting the dots.

Apparently, there wasn't much else. Just a few math equations and magic diagrams fused with modern-day math and science. It made me want to dive in, but… where was I even supposed to start?

I had no knowledge of magic or how it actually worked. Elements? Casting? Or was this "magic" even what I assumed it to be?

Obviously, I couldn't ask anyone—I'm literally the renowned magician teaching nobles. How the hell would I even explain this without blowing my cover?

I decided to pick up a book, right before I heard Syllia grunting and waking up from her beauty sleep. Please, go back to sleep.

I stepped out of the room and made my way toward her. She had one hand on her head like she'd just survived the worst migraine known to man—and trust me, I've had worse.

"Victor... what happened? I was at the door and that's all I remember."

Great. She forgot that incident. Just perfect. There goes my chance to milk her for info, but i guess its better this way lets go along.

"You greeted me and made some kind of oath, then passed out. That's the gist of it." 

"I know that, but I cant remember afterward, Anyway," she added, rubbing her temples, "was your grimoire affected by my summoning? It must've taken a hit."

Right. What the hell am I supposed to say?Actually, I'm not Victor, I'm a soul from another universe who got dumped into his body, and also—I have no idea what a grimoire even is. Please explain like I'm five.

 lets play the amniesia game-lucky for me, im basically an expert at it by now.

"Believe it or not, I collapsed in the middle of class today—at least, that's what the students said. When I came to, all I had were fragments of memories… barely anything about myself, let alone my past. I wrapped up the period, told the kids to go home, and made my way back here."

"What." Her face twisted into a mix of shock and annoyance. Like—hey, it's not my fault I didn't summon you. Blame Victor....Oh right. I am Victor.

"You summoned me here, and now you've forgotten why—and your basic identity!?"

"I mean, if you put it that way... then yeah, pretty much. Don't blame me—blame the me from before today. I'm a new man now, trust me."

Crazy or not, we were getting a little too comfortable talking like this. I almost forgot that we dont even know each other.

"So now what? I can't exactly go back… not until you die."She looked at me like my death was her one-way ticket home.

"Yeah, just… please don't kill me. Like I said, not me—but the old me."

"So now what? What are we gonna do—just sit around and wait for your hair to turn white?"

"That is an option, but I'd rather move around and learn something. At least then I won't be a boring guy to be stuck with."

She crossed her arms and pouted like a scolded child, clearly not amused.

"I mean, look on the bright side—you can teach me magic now... hopefully? Right?"

A little too straightforward—but hey, it's not like there were any better options. Also, a demon being your teacher? I mean, come on—it's not every day you get a hot tutor giving you private lessons at home, fellas.

She looked at me and asked, "You also forgot how to use magic?" Her tone was a mix of disbelief and skepticism.

"Yup. And tomorrow, I'm supposed to demonstrate two spells in front of the students I teach. So… your help would be very much appreciated."

"Sure, why not," she replied with a sigh. "But let me ask again—did you forget everything about magic, or do you at least remember some of it?"

"Sadly, I don't know a single grain of it."

"Great," she muttered. "We'll start from the basics."

And all I could whisper to myself was:Your first magic lesson is about to begin.