The first thing I registered was the dull ache behind my eyes, a persistent throb that felt like a hangover amplified by a thousand.
Then came the unfamiliar scent – a mix of stale wood, something vaguely metallic, and an undertone of damp earth. My eyelids felt heavy, glued shut, but I forced them open.
Light, filtered through a small, grimy window. I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my brain. This wasn't my apartment. My ceiling was white, popcorn-textured, with a fan that wobbled slightly when it spun. This ceiling was rough-hewn timber, dark, cobwebs clinging to the rafters.
'Where the hell was I?' I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt sluggish, heavy, as if I'd been asleep for a week. My body felt… different. Lighter, perhaps? Or just unfamiliar. I looked down at my hands. They were slender, pale, with long, almost delicate fingers. Not my hands. My hands were broader, calloused from years of keyboard shortcuts and occasional DIY projects.
'A mirror'. 'I needed a mirror.' My gaze swept the small, sparsely furnished room. A rickety wooden table, a single chair, and a wardrobe that looked like it had seen better centuries. No mirror. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet meeting a cold, uneven wooden floor. The clothes I was wearing were a simple, coarse tunic and trousers, nothing like the faded band t-shirt and sweatpants I usually slept in. This was wrong. All of it was wrong.
Then, a memory, faint at first, then rushing in like a tidal wave, hit me. Not my memory, but a memory. A name. Kai Lorne. And a place. The Kingdom of Eldoria.
My breath hitched. No. No way. This was a dream. A vivid, hyper-realistic dream born from too many late nights binging webnovels. I pinched myself. Hard. A sharp sting. Not a dream.
I had seen that name before—Kai Lorne. It was Hero's Vow. A generic fantasy novel I'd picked up online a few months ago. A classic hero's journey: orphaned protagonist, hidden powers, a destined quest to defeat the Demon Lord. And Kai Lorne… Kai Lorne was an extra. A minor character, barely a footnote, introduced in a single chapter only to be brutally killed off by the antagonist, Theodric Von Alder, during a public spectacle. His death served as a plot device, a demonstration of Theodric's cruelty, designed to spur the hero into action.
I was Kai Lorne.
The realization hit me. I, Alex Miller, a software engineer from suburban Ohio, was now Kai Lorne, a nameless commoner destined to be fodder for a villain's ego. My stomach churned. This wasn't reincarnation into a rich noble family, or as the hero's best friend, or even as a cool, mysterious side character. No, I got the short end of the stick. The shortest end. The one that gets impaled.
I stumbled out of the room, my legs still shaky. The small dwelling appeared to be part of a larger, dilapidated inn or boarding house. The air outside was cool, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and something earthy, like distant farms. The buildings were mostly timber and stone, with thatched or slate roofs. No cars, no power lines, no concrete. Just… medieval.
People bustled about, dressed in similar coarse tunics and dresses, some carrying baskets, others leading donkeys. Their faces were weathered, their expressions a mix of weariness and quiet determination. They spoke in a language I somehow understood, though it wasn't English. It was like a direct download into my brain, the words forming meaning without conscious translation. Another terrifying symptom of my new reality.
My mind raced, trying to piece together what I knew about Kai Lorne. Not much. He was poor, lived in a rundown part of the capital city, and had no special skills or connections. His death happened in an arena, during a 'military readiness test' where nobles battled commoners. A cruel tradition, designed to keep the common folk in line and entertain the elites. Theodric, the antagonist, used the event to showcase his power and ruthlessness.
I needed to avoid that arena. That was my number one priority. 'If I could just avoid that one specific place, maybe I could alter my fate. But where was it? The novel hadn't given precise coordinates, only that it was a prominent landmark in the capital.'
I started walking, trying to blend in, though I probably looked like a bewildered tourist. My eyes darted around, taking in every detail. This was real. The rough cobblestones underfoot, the pungent smell of a nearby stable, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. It was all too real.
Hours passed. I wandered aimlessly, my mind a jumble of fear and desperate planning. I needed money. I needed a plan. I needed to not die. My stomach grumbled, a stark reminder of my immediate needs. I hadn't eaten since… well, since Alex Miller had last eaten.
As I rounded a corner onto a wider, more bustling street, a colossal structure loomed into view. It was an oval-shaped monstrosity of dark, weathered stone, towering over the surrounding buildings. Its outer walls were scarred, bearing the marks of countless years and perhaps countless battles. Banners, emblazoned with various noble crests, flapped lazily from tall poles around its perimeter. A massive archway, wide enough for several carriages abreast, served as the main entrance, currently teeming with people.
A cold dread washed over me, a familiar chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. This feeling… I knew this place. Not from my life as Alex Miller, but from the pages of Hero's Vow.
It was the Grand Colosseum. The arena.
My heart began to pound, a frantic drum against my ribs. I could hear a distant roar from inside, a wave of sound that suggested a large crowd and some kind of spectacle. People were streaming towards the entrance, their faces alight with anticipation.
I pushed my way through the throng, driven by a morbid curiosity and a desperate need to confirm. As I got closer, I overheard snippets of conversation.
"Another commoner bout today, eh?"
"Aye, heard it's a test for the new recruits from House Alder. Theodric himself might be participating."
"Poor sods. Hope they put up a good show."
House Alder. Theodric. Commoner bouts. It all clicked into place with a sickening finality. This was the arena. The very one where Kai Lorne met his end. The 'military readiness tests' were exactly as described: nobles, often new recruits or those seeking to prove their mettle, would fight commoners, sometimes volunteers, sometimes conscripted, to hone their skills and entertain the masses. And Theodric Von Alder, the man who would kill me, was likely here, or would be soon.
My breath hitched. I was here. In the exact place, at what felt like the exact time, of my character's demise. The novel hadn't specified the exact date, but the atmosphere, the mention of Theodric, it all screamed 'imminent death'.
A sudden, sharp jolt went through me, like a static shock. My vision blurred for a split second, and a strange, high-pitched whine echoed in my ears. It wasn't from the arena. It was internal.
Then, a translucent blue screen flickered into existence directly in front of my eyes, superimposed over the bustling street. It was pixelated, glitching, like an old CRT monitor struggling to boot up.
[ SYSTEM ERROR: CORE FUNCTIONALITY CORRUPTED. ]>
[ ATTEMPTING REBOOT… ]>
[ INITIALIZING… ]
[0%]
The percentage counter, starting from zero, blinked erratically. My mind screamed. 'What the fuck.'