The smell hit him first.
Not blood. Not metal. Not the sterile scent of an office building after midnight. It was... burnt toast? And something else—soft, warm laundry detergent. A ceiling fan buzzed gently above. For a second, Ethan Vale lay still, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Where the hell am I?
He tried to sit up. His body felt lighter. Slimmer. Younger. Panic surged, but his breathing slowed almost immediately—not because he wasn't afraid, but because he'd trained himself for years to absorb the shock before reacting.
The worn ceiling, dull blue walls, and half-open closet weren't part of any hotel. The posters—one of a band he didn't recognize, another of some football team—screamed teenager. He swung his legs over the side of the bed.
His feet touched the floor, and a mirror leaning against the wall caught his eye.
Ethan froze.
A seventeen-year-old stared back at him. Pale skin. Thick black hair. Slight dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept well in months. The reflection matched the frame of a boy—not a man nearing thirty.
This wasn't a dream.
"Ethan! Breakfast is ready, come down before it gets cold!" a woman's voice called from downstairs.
His breath caught.
Not my mom's voice.
But it wasn't hostile. It was casual. Familiar, even.
He moved to the door like someone navigating a stranger's house. The hallway was narrow, paint chipped at the corners. Family photos lined one wall. In one, he recognized the same teenager—him, now—grinning beside a younger girl and two tired-looking parents.
He walked into the kitchen.
The woman—his new mother—was stacking plates. She looked up with a soft smile. "Morning, sleepyhead. You okay? You look pale."
He opened his mouth. Then shut it.
A man—his new father, apparently—sat reading a newspaper. "You were out cold last night," he said without looking up. "Fell asleep in your uniform. Exam pressure finally got to you, huh?"
A girl—twelve, maybe—plopped down beside him with toast in her mouth.
"S'not fair. Ethan gets to sleep in, and I still have to go to school."
He blinked again. "Lily?"
She looked up, surprised. "Uh... yeah?"
The kitchen fell into a strange silence for a second. Then the mother chuckled. "First time your brother's used your name without snapping at you."
Ethan sat. Automatically. His hands trembled under the table. But nobody noticed. They just kept eating.
His memories were clear. Office job. Burnout. That night—rushing to meet a deadline, crossing the street while messaging his manager. Bright headlights. Then... nothing.
Now this.
He ate in silence. His senses adjusted faster than his mind. The bread was dry. Eggs, slightly overcooked. Tea, too sweet. But comforting. Real.
"Ethan," the dad said, folding his paper. "Can you walk your sister to school today? I need to leave early."
"Sure," Ethan said before he could think.
The dad blinked, then nodded slowly. "Alright. Thanks."
Lily made a face. "You're not gonna make me late again, are you?"
He gave a half-smile. "Promise."
---
They walked in silence. Rows of houses passed them. Kids running past in uniforms. Parents sipping coffee in cars. Normal. All of it painfully normal.
"I had a weird dream," Lily said suddenly.
Ethan glanced at her. "Yeah?"
"I dreamt you were nice to me."
He laughed softly. "Guess dreams come true sometimes."
She stared at him like he'd grown another head. "You're seriously weird today."
He stopped at the gate. She ran ahead, then turned back. "You gonna be okay?"
The words hit harder than they should've.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think I've got a second chance."
As she disappeared into the school building, something buzzed in his head.
[Simulation Tree Initialized…]
His vision blurred for a moment, replaced by faint lines and nodes forming a branching map in the air.
Scenario Detected: Post-transmigration calibration.
> Decision Point: Should you attempt to recall this world's academic history?
Yes: 78% chance of mild success. System will assist in mental synchronization.
No: Continue as-is. Risk of exposure = 31%.
Ethan blinked. "What the hell..."
Another ping.
> Branch simulation: If Ethan Vale regains 60% of academic memory within 3 days, performance in upcoming school assessments improves by 48%. Father's trust level increases. Sister's admiration rises slightly.
The screen shimmered. Then vanished.
Ethan stood frozen at the school gate.
This wasn't a second chance.
It was something else.
A system? A simulator? An AI? He didn't know.
But it hadn't asked for permission. It had just activated.
He looked at his hands. Steady now.
Not a strategist. Not a genius. But this time, he didn't need to be.
He had a tool.
And he was going to learn how to use it.
[Decision Core Active — Branch Simulation Ready]
End of Chapter 1