Cough!
Ha…ha…hak!
Ugh! What is this unbearable pain?!!
As his mind regained consciousness, Augustine awoke in confusion and irritation, unable to articulate his thoughts. His skin prickled against the coarse, threadbare sheets, cold and slightly damp, nothing like the warm comfort of his own bed. Harsh fibers scratched his arms as he shifted, and an odd chill seeped into his bones. This was not his familiar home. He had expected to wake up in his own bed, but this environment was entirely different. Somewhere in the distance, the faint creak of wood and the muffled drip of water echoed through the air. The space appeared disorganized, as though assembled by chance. Most disturbing was the stench of decay emanating from beneath him, heavy and nauseating, crawling into his nostrils with every shallow breath. The scene was truly horrifying.
Where am I? What is this place? I was just lying down in my bed, and now I'm in this place all of a sudden?! And what is this putrid smell!?
Augustine rose and surveyed the room. Books lay scattered across the floor, intermingled with used and broken mechanical pencils. The disorder suggested the owner was either a compulsive writer or someone deeply obsessed with books. To the left of the bed stood a side desk, untouched and clean. Two books rested on it: one with a dark red cover, the other with an eerie moonlit design. Their careful placement indicated they were favorites.
There was a mirror right beside the desk, though it was covered by dust and dirt, but it was still usable, at least. On the other side of the wall, there was nothing but dirt. Nothing special, just plain old dirt that's been collecting there for no one knows how long. There was a door at the end of the wall, darkened to the core. The other walls didn't have anything important, just that the wall behind Augustine had a window that was never covered by a curtain, for some strange reason.
Augustine stared at the mirror, covering his head with his left hand. This sudden transformation made him dizzy, cowering in pain as his head continued to hurt for an unknown reason.
Why is my head hurting so much?! What am I doing here? I hate it here already. Please get me out!
Augustine cried out, hoping someone would save him from this unknown place. He was scared out of his wits; he didn't imagine that something like this would happen! He already had an idea of what had happened when he was asleep, a thought that scared him to the core.
Did I…transmigrate…? No, that can't be! I haven't read any novels recently that would suddenly transport me to a different dimension…unless!
Augustine quickly wiped the mirror with his hands; they were thin and looked like a lady's fingers, but he knew that he didn't transmigrate as a woman; it was obvious.
From there, a silhouette could be seen in the mirror, a young boy with white hair, crimson eyes, and dressed in a somewhat casual outfit. He had on a dark grey collared shirt, a pair of white jeans, and white socks. It was rather creepy to see, especially Augustine, who was unfamiliar with this style of clothing.
Augustine stepped back, not believing what he was seeing.
I really have transmigrated! No way, this can't be real…I really have! Not only that, I—
Augustine paused, realizing that this young boy looked familiar. He had recognized him from a certain piece of literature, but where?
Augustine gasped, shocked at what he had just realized, it was the esteemed protagonist of the story!
His name was Aafeen Pharos, a mistreated seventeen-year-old boy who fled his unsupportive home in search of a place where he could truly belong—a place of freedom, safety, and adventure. Throughout his journey, he faced dangerous adversaries who threatened his life for the smallest of reasons, forcing him to run time and again. Yet, he also found unexpected friends along the way, both humans and mystical creatures alike. These connections brought him comfort and purpose. In the end, Aafeen lived his final days content, passing away peacefully in his sleep after a life filled with hardship and discovery.
Augustine tried to compose himself, but it was all too much! Being in the body of a character whom he read about was quite shocking, especially since the main character would die a peaceful death after all of his adventures.
The title of the story was "The White-Snowed Boy's Unfortunate Fate", and it had a total of six volumes, all over three hundred pages. Augustine had spent a whole week reading the entire series, reading a volume a day or leaving off at the last chapter of the book to finish the next day. It was his first time ever finishing a series, and it was worth it. He was satisfied with the ending, yet felt depressed that it had ended so peacefully. He cried at such a small thing that he decided to go to bed earlier than usual, and that was his last moments in the world that he once knew.
Could I have died as Aafeen Pharos did? Dying peacefully in my sleep? But that would be bizarre…Wait, I just realized, I'm at the beginning of the novel! That must mean that today is the day Aafeen Pharos escapes!
Augustine stopped gazing at the mirror, and his eyes fell on the two books that were on the side desk. He picked them up, feeling their weights. They were quite heavy.
I remember Aafeen taking some books with him when he left. These must have been the only books he took, but what if I finish them while I'm on the trip? I don't clearly remember if he ever finished reading them, so it doesn't matter if I take more than the requested amount, but that would change something in the story though...
Augustine grabbed the other books, placing them down on the worn bed from which he awoke. In total, there were about fifteen books on the bed, and Augustine felt rather stumped about what other books to bring.
I want to take them all! But I know I can't carry all of this…what do I do?
Augustine was about to give up when the door to his room opened, and a figure stepped inside, looking completely distraught and not wanting to deal with this sudden order that he was given.