Somewhere in the universe, far, far away, amidst the wilderness, existed a remote world—a blue ball of life, as if blessed by the gods themselves. There awoke someone distinct yet familiar in the body of the soon-to-be eighteen-year-old young genius Silas. Caleric had woken up in the body of Silas Velor.
In the small but sufficiently spaced room where Caleric suddenly found himself lying on a single bed, it was an unfamiliar sight for the manalogy freak.
The familiar night sky, the pink moon Lustra, the several stars around; everything was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar ceiling. As soon as Caleric got control of his new body, an object fell on his face: the object Silas had been holding before he transmigrated; his smartphone.
The sudden drop made Caleric bounce back as he hit his head on the back wall; now, not only did he hurt his nose, but he also managed to hurt his head. The phone slid to the side, falling straight on the floor and cracking the screen.
Some might call this Murphy's Law in action, but for Caleric, who had just arrived on this unfamiliar world, nothing was making sense. After calming down, regaining his balance, and caressing his head with his hand, Caleric stood up. He picked up the object that had fallen on the ground, but, heavens could've guessed, the broken screen caused a small cut on his thumb. As a drop of blood flowed out and Caleric subconsciously dropped the phone again, his eyes fell on the mirror that hung on the cupboard wall.
What... who?
The mirror that once reflected a figure of such striking beauty that people might have questioned whether he was a she now showed something entirely different. It reflected a boy unmistakably: short black hair, a thin, sharp face, and black eyes that seemed to pierce straight into his soul. His body mirrored the one from his homeland, skinny and seemingly weak at first glance, but it contrasted sharply with a face that bore the marks of years of pain and suffering, as if he had survived a war.
It had been only a few moments since Caleric found himself in this unknown place, but he had already regained his usual state of calmness. In this state, Caleric could think like a true prodigy.
Paired with his scientifically oriented mind, which was always curious and questioned everything, Caleric was not just a manalogy freak; he was a true genius.
Psyche displacement? A taboo...
Caleric knew a lot about manalogy, but his thirst for more knowledge had also led him to discover that the world of manalogy he was so fond of held many secrets. So, as any curious explorer would, he decided to dig deeper and soon became aware of many such secrets, though his understanding of them was still superficial.
Based on his understanding, he made a guess. He then started exploring the place he now found himself in. It was a room. Caleric could guess that it was a bedroom. He was also able to guess that his current body was the same age as his own.
The room did not have much, except for a window covered by curtains, a table with several books neatly arranged, a bed that looked soft and comfortable, and a cupboard that stored clothes. Upon inspecting further, Caleric realized that this place was even stranger.
The clothes were different—very different in style—and were found nowhere in his homeland. But that wasn't the only thing. Maybe this was a place somewhere in the southern tricontinent, which Caleric wasn't aware of, but what couldn't be explained was the text. The books had text in a language he couldn't understand.
Caleric, as a curious manalogy freak, had seen many different types of languages. Even though he couldn't understand them all, he had at least glanced at the words. The text he found in these books was completely unfamiliar.
What is this place? Caleric had run out of explanations.
If this really is psyche displacement, or some form of it, then anytime now I should have a severe headache. According to my knowledge, psyche displacement was used to extend life in the Second Epoch. After a body reached its limit, one could transfer their very existence into another body. This was based on the premise that the psyche is the true self and the body is just a mortal projection; a cloth that could be replaced.
If this really is true, then according to my guess, when my psyche starts interacting with the machinery of this body and establishes a consciousness that forms connections with existing memory nodes, I would probably pass out.
As Caleric came to this conclusion, he could already feel a faint headache brewing. His forehead started heating up rapidly. The only thing he managed to do before losing consciousness was lie down on the bed that felt soft and comfortable.
Soon, a beam of blinding white light appeared. Caleric could tell that he was unconscious, but when pictures started appearing, he could no longer justify it. He accepted this as a form of unconsciousness, because the things registering in his awareness were already in his brain—or in the brain of the body he now inhabited.
Different pictures started appearing one by one, soon forming a video that progressed from lower to higher quality.
...
A scene appeared with several people dressed in white or black. They wore complicated expressions.
He looked in front of him and saw a man lying down. It was a dead person, his eyes closed and lips curled in what resembled a smile.
Layers of flower garlands were placed on the body—several around his neck, some over his body, covering him entirely.
He looked up at a woman as the scene shattered.
...
Another scene appeared. The woman from the previous scene was crouching down in front of him.
"Mom?"
"Daddy has left us... forever," the woman said.
"Does this make you sad?" she asked.
"A little."
"What a strong boy, you didn't cry," she said with a wide smile on her face.
"You didn't either."
Her smile faded as the scene shattered.
...
Scenes after scenes appeared as Caleric continued watching them through. The more he watched, the more he realized how different he was from the previous owner of the body.
...
A new scene appeared. He was surrounded by many people dressed in similar attire—a uniform. Girls and boys of the same age, children who looked fifteen or sixteen, had all gathered around.
"Why did you do this?" one of them screamed.
After that, everyone there started asking similar questions. He felt as if he were being cornered.
"For... fun."
The scene shattered.
...
A new scene appeared. He was sitting at his desk, a book opened in front of him as he read it with great curiosity, at times making pencil marks or highlighting statements.
The scene lasted a long time before he finally closed the book.
The title of the book read: Psychology.
...
There were several such scenes in Silas's memory. These long and laborious scenes bored Caleric, but he could do nothing except bear with them.
One by one, as scenes came and went, Caleric grew more and more puzzled. The scenes in Silas's memory were not ordered chronologically. It was as if Silas's brain was full of chaos and madness.
Caleric also discovered that many scenes were not visual. They weren't scenes at all, but just voices. Whatever these voices spoke made no sense. They were random and they were driving him mad.
After what felt like an eternity, the flashing of scenes finally came to an end, and soon Caleric met the familiar blinding white light.
Even though Caleric now had the memories of the former body owner, he still had several questions. His new memories were like jumbled puzzle pieces; if not for Caleric being a genius, he would never have been able to make any sense of the scenes he saw.
After the blinding light disappeared and he could finally wake up, he chose not to, deciding it was more important to sort things out in his mind. So he kept lying down and started thinking.
This is a different world. While I was partially correct about psyche displacement, I cannot explain how I would be displaced into a different world.
It seems that if I were to call this event something, transmigration would be the fitting term. But the fantasy world that the people of this world dream of is more like my world, so maybe this event would be called reverse transmigration.
Anyway, this world has new concepts that I did not know of—sciences and technology—but is devoid of manalogy. Very interesting. Also, looking at the people of this world, they seem to be slightly more advanced than the people of my world; almost several decades ahead.
This person is Silas Velor or rather, I am Silas Velor.
My father died when I was very young. I dropped out of school at the age of sixteen.
Moreover, I am very interested in psychology... if I am correct, it deals with human nature and behavior. What an irony.
The more I think about this, the clearer it becomes that the previous owner was insane. If I were to act like him, I would never be able to.
If I were to point out one thing in common between him and me, it would be that we both had a topic of interest that we spent a lot of time researching and experimenting with. His mind is like an encyclopedia of psychology. What a freak.
After sorting his mind and gaining some degree of understanding of the world in which Silas now found himself, he finally decided to wake up.
It was in that instant that he felt a sensation achingly familiar, one he had experienced countless times in his own world. So familiar, in fact, that his mind almost dismissed it out of habit. Yet this time, it was different.
The subtle trembling of countless specks of light gathering, converging, weaving together into unseen patterns; the primordial foundation of every spell ever cast, the very heartbeat of manalogy itself.
Silas had sensed particles unlike any other. Around him, hidden in the air itself, were manacules.