Pain.
That was the first thing he felt when his mind became conscious again.
Everything was dark.
A choking, tight darkness pressed against his consciousness, taking out everything except the pain.
It didn't feel like a headache; rather, his brain was being cut into multiple pieces from the inside.
He thought back to the screen that had flashed before his vision just moments ago, or was it hours?
Time seemed to pass differently in the dark.
[SYSTEM FAILED]
'That's not how these types of stories start,' Chris thought to himself, panic beginning to rise like a cold in his throat.
Usually, there was a tutorial.
A helpful blue box explaining his stats, his skills, and his mission.
A "Welcome, User." But here, there was only this irresistible pain.
Right now, it felt like he was being dragged into something, or more accurately, absorbed.
Like a drop of paint falling into a big, deep ocean.
Then,
Thud.
His body landed on something hard and uneven.
The ground was cold, pressing against his back.
Immediately, a sharp, itching sensation clawed at his throat.
It burned in time with a heartbeat that felt too slow, too different to be his own.
'Wait, my throat?'
He could finally feel his limbs, his chest, his fingers, but the connection was distant.
It was like operating a machine with significant lag.
More concerning was his vision. It remained pitch black, preventing him from seeing his surroundings.
"Hello? System?" he tried to say, or thought he said.
"Let me see. Fix the brightness settings or something."
There was no reply.
No robotic voice, no ding of a notification.
Just the sound of wind rustling through unseen leaves and the harsh breathing that sounded loud in his own ears.
'This is starting to get weird. Just put me in a villain or an extra, and I can manage. I know the plot. Just give me eyes.'
That's right.
Reading thousands of novels had prepared his mind for this.
He had accepted the absurdity of the situation with frightening speed.
Panic was inefficient in this state; adaptation was survival.
Although the silence of the System cast heavy doubts on his survival chances.
"Finally."
The word rumbled.
It didn't come from the wind or the trees but vibrated through his own chest, echoing at the top of his skull.
'Hmm? Finally? Who said that?'
Chris started to turn his head around, instinctively trying to find the source of the voice.
But then the realisation hit him like a physical blow.
He hadn't turned his head or moved his jaw.
He couldn't see anything yet, but the voice had resonated from within.
"Hey, is anyone there?" Chris shouted his thoughts, his mind racing.
He needed to figure out the situation.
Was he kidnapped?
Was someone standing over him?
"You?" The voice replied.
It was deep, ancient, and filled with a raw, chaotic malice.
Chris's heart started beating fast.
He assumed someone was standing right next to him, someone dangerous.
It was time for him to play it cool and pretend he was just a confused, harmless local.
If he were an extra, he needed to blend in like one.
"Sir, I can't understand," Chris spoke out loud, his voice shaking.
He tried to sound pathetic and harmless.
"Judging by your tone... I-I can't see properly. Can you take me to Julien's house? We go way back."
He threw out a random name, hoping to sound like a lost villager.
"Who is he talking to?" Another voice spoke, this one further away, external.
It sounded controlled, like someone speaking through a mask.
"The vessel... is it broken? Why is it babbling about a house?" A third voice joined in.
'Vessel?' Chris thought. 'Cultists? Are they cultists?'
"Sir—" Before Chris could continue his act, a surge of power erupted from his gut.
It wasn't his power.
His body moved on its own.
It wasn't a twitch or a spasm. That was a deliberate, violent action initiated by something else sharing his skin.
His right arm shot forward into the darkness with incredible speed.
He felt his fingers—his own fingers—gouge into something soft and warm.
There was a sickening squelch, followed by a nasty snap.
The sensation of tearing through resistance was horrifyingly detailed.
Then, the hand pulled back, holding something hot and wet.
He felt strong. Unnaturally strong for a lost villager.
The kind of strength that didn't belong to a loner who spent his life in a dark room.
'How the fuck did I move? I didn't tell my arm to do that!' Chris screamed internally.
"You little shits," the deep voice growled, using Chris's mouth.
The vocal cords strained, producing a sound that was hoarse and terrifying.
"Because of you, I'm now stuck in here."
Those words.
They were not spoken from the outside.
They vibrated through his own jawbone.
"What the fuck?" Chris tried to pull his hand back, tried to unclench his fist, tried to do anything.
But his body was a statue against his own will.
"Stop! What the hell are you doing?"
"Give it up, brat," the voice sneered, echoing in the cavern of his mind.
"I already took over."
"Took over what?"
"Your body."
"Wait, am I the one who transmigrated? Why are you in the body? This is my turn!" Chris argued, his logic fueled by disbelief.
"That's because these fucking bastards summoned me here."
'Summoned? What?'
Chris's mind raced.
Summoned into a body that he had just transmigrated into? That meant the original owner, the extra, the nobody, was gone. Chris entered, and simultaneously, something else was pulled in.
Suddenly, a blue light flickered in the darkness of his mind.
[SYSTEM REBOOTING...]
[SYNC RATE INCREASING]
[CURRENT CONTROL: 10%]
'Ten per cent? That's it?' Chris despaired.
[WARNING: HOSTILE CONSCIOUSNESS DETECTED]
[ATTEMPTING TO STABILIZE...]
[STABILIZATION FAILED. OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS.]
[CURRENT CONTROL: 70%]
The number jumped up, but not for Chris.
He felt his presence being shoved into the back of the mind, a passenger in a car speeding off a cliff.
The strange presence was expanding, taking root in his nervous system, seizing the functions.
"Resisting?" The entity laughed, a low, guttural sound.
"You have a strong soul for a vessel. Usually, they shatter the moment I arrive. But you... You are annoying."
"Who the hell are you?" Chris demanded, mentally thrashing against the invisible chains holding him back.
"And why can't I see?"
"Open your eyes then, if you are so eager to witness the beautiful surroundings."
Chris felt a surge of energy rush to his face.
[SYSTEM: VISUAL RECEPTORS ONLINE]
His eyelids flew open.
The world slowly flooded in.
It wasn't a bedroom or a hospital.
He was standing in a clearing within a dense, twilight forest.
The trees were massive, their bark dark and twisted, reaching up towards a sky so high that it was only visible through the broken branches.
Around him stood a circle of figures robed in deep red.
Their faces were hidden behind hoods, but their posture was one of confusion and fear.
He looked down.
His hand was clenched tight, covered in a thick, red liquid that dripped slowly onto the dead leaves below.
He followed the trail of the liquid down to the ground.
At his feet lay a body in the same dark robes as the others.
But something was missing.
The head.
There was no head.
Just a flat surface where a neck should have been.
The hood lay flat, empty, with blood leaking through, painting the ground red.