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**Chapter 1 – Not My Room**
My head was killing me.
Like, not your average hangover or "I didn't sleep enough" kind of pain. This was like a metal pipe had been slammed into the side of my skull, and then someone decided to fry my brain with a blowtorch just for fun.
I groaned and rolled over. The bed was soft, almost too soft, and the pillow smelled like something faintly floral. Not mine. Not even close. My room didn't smell like anything, except maybe old pizza and laundry I forgot to fold.
That's when I opened my eyes.
At first, nothing looked *wrong*. But nothing looked *right* either. The ceiling fan above me spun slow, slow enough I could count the blades. Four of them. White. Dusty. The walls were painted a pale grey, kind of cold and plain, and everything around me looked… off. The furniture was sleek and modern. Too clean. Like it belonged in a catalog. Not mine. Not familiar. But for some reason, I couldn't shake this weird feeling like I *had* been here before.
My heart beat faster.
I sat up, slowly. My head throbbed harder when I moved. I touched my forehead, half-expecting blood, but my hand came back dry. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and nearly jumped out of my skin when I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room.
That wasn't me.
Tall. Skinny. Too skinny. My arms looked like they hadn't touched sunlight in years, and my collarbone jutted out like something from a sketch. My skin was pale—almost sickly—and below my eyes were these dark circles like I hadn't slept in days. And the eyes themselves… red. Bright red. Like someone photoshopped them or stuck in some edgy anime contact lenses.
I blinked. Still red.
"What the hell…" I muttered. My voice sounded rough, like I hadn't spoken in a while.
Then it hit me—*I don't remember anything*.
Not like the usual "what did I eat for dinner last night?" kind of memory gap. I mean *nothing*. No parents. No friends. No job. No name—wait. No, that's not right. I *do* know my name.
Andrew.
I'm Andrew.
But… that's it. Everything else was a fog. Like trying to grab smoke. I knew I had lived another life. I could feel it. But I didn't *feel* like I lived it. And that made no sense at all.
I stood up, wobbling a little, and looked around again. There was a window, but the curtains were drawn. The door was closed. A digital clock on the nightstand blinked 3:17 AM in red letters. Even the air felt weird. It was quiet, but not peaceful. Like something was holding its breath.
I didn't know where I was. I didn't know how I got here.
But one thing was already clear:
This wasn't my world.
And something was *seriously* wrong with me.
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I am writing this novel with the help of ChatGPT but it's not like it's completely chat gpt
I have a lot of ideas for this novel
For a lot of you this novel is very familiar because this novel is kind of a copy of meta essence gacha .
But this my version of meta essence gacha where I plan to take this a very different direction
If you guys have any suggestions please do comment