When I opened my eyes, I was standing in the middle of a moonlit courtyard with a warm summer breeze that definitely did not belong anywhere near Toronto.
For a few seconds I simply stood there, letting the sensation settle.
The ground beneath my feet was smooth marble. Cool, but not cold. Somewhere nearby water trickled softly, like a fountain hidden behind the ruins.
It felt… real. Too real for a dream.
I didn't turn immediately. Yet my instinct told me someone was watching me.
Instead I crossed my arms and said calmly,
"Alright. Whoever you are, if this is some elaborate kidnapping scenario, you should know I have zero ransom value."
Silence.
Then a voice answered behind me.
Low. Amused.
"You always start with humor when you're nervous."
I froze.
Slowly, I turned.
He was standing a few steps away.
Tall, lean, and handsome. Dark-haired. Wrapped in robes that looked too ancient to belong to any century I recognized.
His face should have been hidden by the shifting silver mist around him. And yet I could still feel his eyes.
They were fixed on me with an intensity that made the hair on my arms rise.
Like he had been waiting for a very long time.
I pointed at him.
"Okay. First question."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Ask."
"Who are you?"
A pause.
"You don't remember."
"That was not an answer."
He took a slow step closer.
The air changed, the space between us instantly feeling charged, like static before lightning.
"You've always been impatient."
I frowned.
"You say that like you know me."
"I do."
I blinked.
"No you don't."
He smiled slightly.
"Yes," he said quietly.
"I do, Sara."
My stomach tightened.
Do I know this guy? He's certainly too handsome to look like a stalker.
Aloud, I said nothing.
He studied my face carefully, almost curiously.
"You look exactly the same."
"Same as what?"
"The last time I saw you."
"That sentence implies we have met before."
"We have."
I rubbed my temples slowly.
"This feels like the beginning of a psychological thriller."
He moved closer.
Close enough now that I could see the faint glow in his deep blue eyes. Moonlight reflected in them like silver water.
For some reason that made my chest tighten.
"It seems it's time to cross worlds again," he said quietly.
"The world you left is calling you home."
"…what?"
My patience snapped.
"Alright, mysterious dream man. Let me simplify this conversation."
I gestured around the ruins.
"This is clearly a dream. I'm asleep in my apartment. My brain is fried from thesis deadlines, so naturally my subconscious invented… you. Which I don't mind since you're easy on the eyes, but maybe tone down the mystical nonsense."
He let out an amused chuckle.
"Is that your conclusion?"
"Yes."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then my therapist is going to make a lot of money."
He laughed softly.
The breeze shifted strangely against my skin, and I felt that peculiar sensation you sometimes get when you're about to wake up—when a dream starts thinning around the edges.
The ruins flickered.
The sound of the fountain faded into silence.
Then he spoke again.
Quieter this time.
"You've awakened them," he said calmly.
"Use them wisely if you wish to survive."
I frowned, trying to make sense of the dream.
"Awakened what?"
A jagged line of white light tore across the sky like glass breaking.
The entire courtyard trembled.
I stumbled back.
"What the hell—"
My eyes flew open.
The ceiling of my apartment stared back at me.
Dark. Familiar. Comfortingly normal.
I lay there for several seconds, heart still pounding.
"…okay. That was one heck of a dream."
I pushed myself upright and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
The digital clock on my nightstand blinked 2:41 AM.
My throat felt dry, so I shuffled into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.
Half asleep, I leaned against the counter and drank slowly.
The dream lingered in my mind with unsettling clarity.
The courtyard.
The ruins.
The man.
The way he said my name.
"Cross worlds."
I snorted quietly.
"Yeah, okay."
Dream logic.
My brain was probably fried from caffeine and thesis deadlines.
I set the glass in the sink and rubbed my eyes.
That's when something flickered in the air above the counter.
I blinked.
It was still there.
A faint blue glow.
"…nope."
I rubbed my eyes harder.
The glow sharpened into text.
[Compatibility confirmed.]
[Host replacement initiated.]
I stared.
"Eh?"
Two more windows appeared in the air.
DOMINION LORD SYSTEM — Initialized
BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM — Initialized
For a few seconds I just stood there.
Then I said very calmly,
"Okay. I'm hallucinating."
A cheerful voice spoke inside my head.
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Hallucination hypothesis rejected.
Another window appeared.
HOST PROFILE — ANASTASIA VALERIAN
Age: 16
Status: Noble Heir — House Valerian
Territory: Northern Kingdom Territories
Lineage: High Noble Bloodline
Political Rank: Aristocracy
Physical Condition: Healthy
Magical Aptitude: Dormant
Combat Ability: Minimal
Projected Survival Probability: 12%
Primary Threat: Political execution within one year
I blinked.
"…what?"
A calmer voice spoke next, analytical and measured.
[DOMINION LORD SYSTEM]
Projected outcome without intervention: execution within one year.
Something cold settled in my stomach.
Execution?
Before I could process that, the cheerful voice cut in.
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Which is why we replaced her.
I pointed at myself.
"Replacement host?"
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Correct.
[DOMINION LORD SYSTEM]
Host selection based on comparative survival metrics.
"Why me?"
There was a brief pause.
Then the cheerful voice answered.
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Your personality profile suggests significantly higher survival probability.
The screen changed again.
HOST TRAITS DETECTED
Adaptive
Strategic
Morally Flexible
Spoiled
I stared at the last word.
"Excuse me?"
The cheerful voice sounded delighted.
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Compared to local aristocracy, host demonstrates superior opportunistic tendencies.
I crossed my arms.
"How am I more spoiled than literal royalty?"
The calmer system responded.
[DOMINION LORD SYSTEM]
Host originates from modern civilization.
Then the cheerful one added:
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Millennial and Gen-Z behavioral patterns demonstrate comparable entitlement metrics.
I gaped.
"Did you just insult my entire generation?"
[BOND & ALLURE SYSTEM]
Statistical observation.
The lights intensified.
[TRANSMIGRATION BEGINNING.]
My stomach dropped.
"WAIT."
The floor beneath my feet suddenly vanished.
Gravity disappeared.
"Oh you have got to be—"
The kitchen vanished.
The city lights vanished with it.
And when I opened my eyes again—
I was lying in a bed surrounded by silk curtains.
A servant's voice came from somewhere nearby.
"Lady Anastasia?"
Lady… who?
Before I could even process the question, the cheerful voice whispered in my head.
[Welcome to Aurethia, Host.]