Pain pulled me out of the darkness.
It wasn't sharp or sudden. It was heavy, pressing down on my entire body, like I was trapped under deep water. My chest felt tight. My limbs wouldn't respond right away.
I sucked in a breath.
Air burned my lungs as if I hadn't breathed in a long time. My eyes snapped open.
The first thing I saw was a ceiling—pure white, smooth, and unnaturally clean. Thin glowing lines moved slowly across it, forming symbols I didn't recognize. They weren't painted or carved. They floated, shifting on their own.
A low hum filled the air.
This wasn't a hospital.
Hospitals didn't look like this. They didn't feel like this.
I tried to move, to sit up, but my arms shook violently. There was no strength in them. Even lifting my upper body felt difficult, like my muscles had forgotten how to work.
"What…?" I tried to speak.
The voice that came out was soft. Too soft.
My heart skipped.
That wasn't my voice.
Before I could react, a powerful force pressed down on my chest, pinning me in place. Not a machine. A hand.
I looked down.
A woman stood over me.
She was tall and solidly built, her posture straight and confident. She wore a black uniform with deep red lines running through it. The patterns glowed faintly, pulsing slowly, like they were alive. Her expression was calm and cold, her eyes sharp and unreadable.
"Don't move," she said flatly. "You're lying on a recovery array."
Recovery array?
The words didn't make sense, but her tone made one thing clear—this wasn't a suggestion.
I instinctively tried to push her hand away.
It didn't move.
Not even slightly.
My fingers pressed against her palm with everything I had, but it was like pushing against solid steel. The difference in strength was terrifying.
Her eyebrow lifted a little, as if she found my effort mildly amusing.
I swallowed hard.
Something was terribly wrong.
I forced myself to look around the room. The walls looked like crystal, smooth and transparent, yet strong. Strange metallic tools floated in the air, rotating slowly without any visible support. The floor beneath me was carved with glowing symbols arranged in a large circle.
This wasn't Earth.
The realization hit me like a punch.
Memories rushed back all at once.
The sound of screeching tires.
Blinding headlights.
The moment of impact.
I had died.
And now I was here.
In a place that made no sense.
In a body that wasn't mine.
The woman removed her hand and stepped back, giving me space. "You collapsed in the central district," she said. "Do you remember your identification?"
Identification?
I opened my mouth to answer, then froze.
A flood of memories poured into my mind—memories that didn't belong to me.
A thin boy. A narrow back. Always walking with his head down. Always stepping aside when women passed. Always careful with his words. Always silent.
Always weak.
My hands clenched into fists.
This body was male.
But it wasn't me.
I had transmigrated.
"Memory disturbance," the woman muttered, more to herself than to me. "As expected."
She turned her head slightly and spoke to the air. "Record it. Male civilian. Likely collapsed from exhaustion."
Male.
The way she said the word made my chest tighten.
Not angry. Not mocking.
Dismissive.
Like she was labeling an object.
A quiet laugh came from the side.
"He looks better than most," another voice said.
I turned my head.
Another woman leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with interest. She was younger, her expression relaxed, her eyes openly moving over me from head to toe.
"He'd be worth something," she added casually.
My stomach twisted.
She wasn't joking.
She was evaluating me.
Like property.
That's when I noticed something else that made my blood run cold.
Every single person in the room was a woman.
Doctors. Guards. Technicians.
All women.
And all of them radiated pressure.
It wasn't visible, but I could feel it pressing against my skin, heavy and overwhelming. Compared to them, I felt fragile. Small.
I searched deeper into the memories of this body, trying to understand where I was.
And the truth was worse than I expected.
This was a Reverse Gender World.
Women ruled everything.
Not just socially. Not just politically.
Biologically.
Women in this world naturally awakened supernatural power. Some as children. Most as they grew older. Cultivation, abilities, strength—it came to them as easily as breathing.
They were warriors, leaders, rulers.
Men, on the other hand, were born empty.
No cultivation paths.
No supernatural abilities.
Physically weaker. Spiritually incomplete.
Men existed to support society. To do basic labor. To marry into powerful families if they were fortunate enough. To obey.
Men didn't have status.
Only value.
A cold anger formed in my chest.
In my original world, strength also decided everything. But men had once stood at the top.
Here?
Men weren't even allowed to climb.
The uniformed woman finished checking the floating tools. "He's stable," she said. "Release him."
"So soon?" the younger woman replied. "That's boring."
The officer shot her a warning look.
The younger woman laughed lightly. "Relax. I'm just talking."
The pressure around me eased. Only then did I realize I had been restrained the entire time. Invisible force bindings vanished, freeing my body.
I slid off the platform.
My legs almost gave out beneath me.
They felt weak, shaky, unreliable.
Humiliatingly weak.
I clenched my teeth and forced myself to stand upright.
I refused to bow my head.
The officer watched me carefully. "Return to your residence and rest. Causing a disturbance in public areas is punishable."
Punishable.
For collapsing.
I nodded once. "Understood."
She turned to leave.
That was when it happened.
A sudden heat exploded inside my chest.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't calm.
It was violent, rough, and overwhelming.
My heartbeat spiked. My breathing turned uneven. Something surged upward from deep within me, like a sealed beast forcing its way awake.
The glowing symbols on the floor flickered.
The air shook.
I grabbed the edge of the platform as my vision blurred. The floating tools began to vibrate, clashing softly against one another.
"What is that?" the younger woman said sharply.
The officer froze mid-step.
The hum in the room deepened, turning distorted.
Inside me, something roared.
It didn't feel natural like the women's power. It wasn't smooth or harmonious.
It felt like will.
Like domination.
Like something that refused to kneel.
Then, just as suddenly—
It vanished.
The pressure disappeared.
The symbols dimmed.
The tools stabilized.
Silence filled the room.
I stood there gasping, sweat running down my back, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs.
Slowly, I lifted my head.
The officer was staring at me.
Not with boredom.
Not with indifference.
But with sharp focus.
The younger woman's smile had disappeared. Her eyes were shining with excitement.
"That was strange," she said quietly. "You felt it too, didn't you?"
The officer didn't answer.
She stepped closer to me.
The pressure from her presence intensified, crashing down on me like a mountain. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to kneel.
I didn't.
Her lips curved slightly.
"Interesting," she said softly.
"Run a full background check on him. Immediately."
My blood ran cold.
I forced my face to look confused. "Check… for what?"
She didn't respond.
Her eyes never left me.
In that moment, I understood something clearly.
This world wasn't prepared for me.
Because inside this weak, inferior male body…
Something forbidden had awakened.
Something that shouldn't exist.
And now—
I had been seen.