unexpected situation

His eyes remained shut, and all he could hear was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—he couldn't feel anything else.

After what felt like a long time, he slowly gathered enough strength to open them.

Even that simple act felt like a monumental task.

He couldn't move his body. Maybe this is just some early side effect of transmigration, he thought, trying to shift his gaze to get a sense of where he was.

He seemed to be in a grand, spacious room—one that gave off the air of belonging to a noble from the 18th century or a similar era.

The walls were covered in elegant neoclassical wallpaper, Two tall windows adorned the back wall, draped in off-white curtains embroidered with delicate gold thread.

The room was tastefully furnished: an off-white chaise lounge, a center table, and a side table—all matching in both color and ornate style.

Two large mirrors—one on the back wall and another on the left—reflected the soft light of the room ,On the side table rested a collection of medicines, herbs, and primitive medical instruments—clearly lacking modern technology.

Hanging on the wall above was a portrait of a young boy with bright blue eyes and light blonde hair.

"This room is really pretty… I'm guessing Zephyr was a noble," Soren muttered to himself. "Judging by the design, it looks like it's from a time before the Victorian era. Hmmm… there's definitely a lot to figure out."

Soren, who was lying on the bed and looking around by shifting his head, thought, At least five minutes must have passed. The early transmigration effect should be over by now. He tried to move his hands and legs. He could feel his hands and upper body, but moving them was still extremely difficult. It took nearly all his strength just to sit up. But after a while, he realized something alarming—he couldn't feel or move his legs.

Soren had always been a boy who disliked staying still. Before his transmigration, he had an athletic build, was a member of his school's karate club, regularly participated in races, and enjoyed evening walks around town.

This must be a joke, right? I can walk, right? Nothing bad will happen. This is just a one-day thing or something like that. I can walk... I can walk... No, no—I can't feel my legs at all! Someone, anyone, please come here! I was supposed to be a hero in this world. No, no, no, no! My legs—how will I walk, run, or even stand? This is terrible! This is not real right !

Soren cried out and screamed, tears streaming down his face. His panic was overwhelming—this felt like the worst thing that could ever happen.

He tried to use his hands to stand up but fell back down.

Suddenly, a maid rushed into the room, alarmed by the commotion.

The maid hurried over and administered a sedative to Soren, who was still screaming. After a while, he lost consciousness.

The moment he lost consciousness, he found himself in the same room—but this time, he wasn't in control of the body. It was as if his soul was present, yet someone else was guiding it. After a moment, he realized it was Zephyr's consciousness, and he was witnessing Zephyr's memories. A tutor was teaching Zephyr many things, but there was something different from what Soren had expected—he could feel everything: Zephyr's heartbeat, the gentle breeze. It was as if he was trapped inside Zephyr's body.

He remained in this dreamlike state for what felt like years—at least six, based on the changing clothes he saw every day, each day different from the last. But it wasn't normal time passing; he was only there during the tutor's lessons. As soon as a class ended, his consciousness would jump forward to the next lesson, skipping everything in between. It was as if this experience was designed solely for him to learn about this world.

But this wasn't just torturous years spent listening to lectures and doing nothing. There were no breaks, no respite. The endless repetition and confinement left Soren in a very fragile state.

During what seemed like an ordinary lesson, Soren suddenly realized he was wearing the same clothes he had on the day he first woke up in this world. As the lecture drew to a close, a searing pain erupted in his chest—so fierce it felt like every vein in his body was about to explode. The agony overwhelmed him, plunging him into a void of stillness and emptiness. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes again. But this time, something had changed—he was finally in control of his own body.

He realized the memory phase had ended. With great effort, he sat up, muscles sore and uncooperative, like they hadn't been used in years. Slowly, he looked around the room, then reached for the small brass bell on the side table and rang it. A maid entered quietly, her posture stiff and careful.

At first, he remained eerily still—expression unreadable, gaze fixed straight ahead. The room was silent, save for the shallow breaths of the maid standing by the door. Then something inside him cracked. A low, broken chuckle escaped his lips, barely more than a breath. It built slowly, shaking his shoulders, growing louder, sharper, until it filled the room. The sound was raw, jagged—laughter stretched too far, teetering on the edge of a scream.

Tears streaked down his cheeks as the laughter spiraled, wild and uneven, echoing off the high ceilings like a storm bouncing between walls. There was no joy in the sound—only exhaustion, confusion, and the fraying edge of sanity. The maid took a frightened step back, the tray slipping from her hands and crashing to the floor. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The sound of his unraveling filled every corner of the room, as if the weight of everything he had just endured was finally breaking loose.

After a moment that felt like eternity, he calmed down, looked at the trembling maid, apologized for his sudden and weird behavior, He gestured gently toward the door and added, "You can go." As the maid hesitated, still unsure, he continued, "Before that… could you bring me my diary?"

The maid gave a small, hurried nod, then turned and left the room as quickly and quietly as she could, her footsteps echoing behind her.

"I'm a fool... why did I react like that?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "I miss you, Mom and Dad… Emma… Eren… everyone. I miss you all. I don't want to be here."

He cried quietly, burying his face in the pillow as tears streamed down, soaking the fabric beneath him.