Everywhere and Nowhere
A tranquil sea with no water, no surface, and no end in sight—standing in a place that was reality but at the same time wasn't real in any way. The laws of the world, which not only humans but all life down to their individual cells—and lifeless things down to each molecule—had been familiar with, didn't apply here. This space seemed to exist in a state of randomness, but also followed an order of its own. It was neither evil nor benevolent—it simply existed.
In this space existed several shapes made of mist—some different, some similar, some being practically identical. Some shone more than others, while some existed for brief moments before the mist that made them dissipated, leading to them disappearing forever.
From some unknown direction, a shape appeared—its mist shaped to be distinctly human. It floated about until a golden thread tugged at it, dragging it until it approached another humanoid shape.
These two shapes, comparable to black holes—or perhaps two neutron stars—combined together to form a single unified shape. As the mist cleared, one with the appropriate vision could see what the shape turned out to be...
Marakeen Empire, Capital City
A young man with ardent black hair and ivory skin, wearing a black garment similar to pajamas, slept soundly on his couch. As the sun rose a bit on the horizon, the light caused him to awaken. As he slowly awoke to the light, his hand shot forth with lightning speed, slapping his forehead. As his head fell forward, he clutched it as if from pain.
He tried to stand, only to fall forward onto both his knees.
"Who am I? Where am I? What's happening around me?… Whose memories are these?"
The young man clutched his head for several minutes before he slowly rose.
"I am Holden Wright, age 19, studying computer science in college to be a computer programmer. My last memory is of me being on my laptop, trying to complete the main story of an RPG I was last playing. That is the end of my memories. After that, there was a large gap… and now I'm here."
Holden raised himself off the floor, which seemed to be made of stone with a seemingly extensive rug covering it. As Holden examined himself, he noticed his clothes and how his body felt different—slightly numb—and the warm and wet stain around his crotch.
"Did I have an accident?"
Holden felt a wave of embarrassment roll over him before he saw the tilted teacup on the table. Holden let out a sigh of relief—how embarrassing would it be to have soiled his pants at his age? Not that he was old or anything.
Holden raised the cup, which still had some tea in it. As he raised it and sipped the lukewarm water, he knew it wasn't smart to drink it—he obviously didn't make it. Being a coffee addict by nature, it could've been tampered with, spiked. It could be the reason why Holden was here, why he couldn't remember anything, why his body felt so off. But those weren't the reasons why he spat out the tea. It was simply...
"DISGUSTAN!!" Holden said, quoting a meme that was popular among his generation. Holden wiped his mouth with his shirt. Whoever made this tea had insulted and spat on the leaf, and he had probably incurred the wrath of all his ancestors—whoever he was. As Holden wiped, he slowly turned around, looking at the room, as his eyes locked onto a window. On the other side was a room similar to his, where a handsome young man with black hair stood, wiping his mouth.
Holden raised his eyebrows. "Why would anyone have windows linking up two people's rooms? And why does that guy seem so familia—"
Holden stopped as his eyes widened, the realization dawning on him that he was looking at a mirror. As he examined his face, a thought ran through his head:
"Have I been transmigrated??!!"