Darkness, never-ending darkness—that was all there was, or all he could see when he opened his eyes.
Drifting alone in a place of total solitude and emptiness, unable to move and devoid of all sensations, he could do nothing but accept his fate, as he had already died.
"Is this the afterlife?"
He was perplexed because it was not the heavenly paradise or the infernal pits of torture; the only thing here was nothing.
"Is this my life now, spending eternity alone?" He said, drifting far into the darkness, that he didn't want to be alone because he was afraid of becoming enraged by the constant silence.
He wasn't alone, though, because voices began to whisper in his ears in seductive tones, repeatedly asking the same question: "Do you want to live again?"
He wasn't sure if the voices he was hearing were real or just in his imagination, but their seductive tone compelled him to respond. "Yes, if that were possible."
Hearing his response, the voices began to mutter something in a language that he could not understand.
"We can give you a new life and a new body in a new world," the voices said. "However, there is something you must know."
"What is it?" he asked.
"We want you to do something for us in that new world of yours," the voices said after a brief pause. "We want you to survive there."
"Survive?" he wondered. "But I'm not sure what you mean; could you elaborate?"
"There is no need; you already have the knowledge you require," the voices said.
"How can I have knowledge about something that I don't have?" he wondered.
"All will become clear in time; for now, tell us if you want to live again in the world we are sending you," the voices said. "Answer quickly; we don't have much time."
"Yes," he said.
"There's only one thing left to do," the voices said.
"And what's that?" he inquired.
"Sleep!" the voices said as he began to lose his conscience.
***
First P.O.V :-
"So, this is the room where my new life will begin," I explained as I examined the entire space.
The room where I was was breathtaking; the floor was made of a very expensive marble; the walls were purple like a luscious grape; the ceiling was pale chalk white; several expensive-looking paintings were hanging in the hallway; and on each of the room's four corners were four distinct and lovely flower vases. In the centre was a massive, fluffy-looking king-size bed, flanked by two round tables, one on each side, and a purple lamp with an exotic design on it.
Finally, a large oval-shaped mirror with a well-carved wooden frame stood 10 metres from the bed, and when my eyes saw the image formed in the mirror, I realised how different I looked. My usual long, shoulder-length, rough black hair had been replaced by very short, silky white hair. My once-tanned skin has turned snow-white, and my once-brown eye iris has turned silvery to match the colour of my hair. Even my physical appearance has changed; I now resemble a scrawny teen rather than a chiselled adult. I didn't expect to look this different; I now appear to be a completely different person.
"Dammit," I said, a little saddened by the fact that I no longer had the muscles I had fought so hard for, even though I was relieved to be alive again.I also had to deal with some issues, such as the fact that I don't know much about the world or who I am since I didn't get the headache that people get when they transmigrate, which gives them the memories of the person that they transmigrate into.
I have read many different novels, so I know what transmigration is.
It would have helped if I had gotten the memories of the person whose body I am currently inhabiting; seriously, how am I supposed to speak the language of this world, which has a different one?
It's not like what I say will be translated into his language, or that what they say will be translated for me, or that I'll be able to read and write.
Suddenly, I felt a sensation—a surge of pain running through my entire body, eventually giving me the famous excruciating headache—and then foreign memories entered my mind.
As a result, I finally obtained the information I sought.I am currently inhabiting the body of a 16-year-old teenager named Saito Oharu, the sole heir of the Oharu Corporations, one of Japan's most powerful corporations.
"So, I'm in Japan, but is this the Japan I know, or is it something different?" I wondered if I could be in an alternate Japan because Oharu Corporations was not a name I had heard in Japan, at least not in the Japan where I lived.
I guess that's what those voices meant when they said that this world would be familiar to me.
But what about the "survival part"?
Survive from what exactly? Even from the memories of Saitou, I don't think there's anything we need to survive.
The only thing that could happen to me is kidnapping for money or maybe someone trying to kill me; other than that, nothing else.
Then the door of my room opened, revealing a woman with a voluptuous figure, long black hair as black as night, bloody red eyes, soft pink lips, and pale skin like mine wearing a long black nightgown
Her name was Misaki Oharu, my step-mother.
"Oh, you're still awake," Misaki observed."You should sleep; it's pretty late."
"Yes, Mother," I said to her.
"That's good, but remember you have school tomorrow." Misaki said."Please be careful of your surroundings; I don't want you to ge hurt like before."
Ah yes, I recall Saitou falling from the stairs; someone pushed him, and he rolled down the stairs, injuring his head."What was the name of the school again?" "I forgot," I admitted, which was partially correct. I didn't recall Saitou's school or friends."Oh, it's Summer Fall High," she explained.Summer Fall High school? Why do I feel like I've heard that name before?Summer Fall High... Oh no!
I should have stayed dead!
"Hey, why do you suddenly look so nervous?" Misaki said as she noticed my facial expression.
"No, nothing," I said.
"Ok," Misaki said.
"Hey, Mother, can I ask you a thing?" I asked."Can I transfer schools?"
"Why?"Misaki inquired
"I do not want to study at that school," I stated.
Misaki was thinking before she answered, "I understand that you don't want to study in a place where your life could be in danger, but you can only transfer schools once your father comes back from his one-month meeting."
Dang it!