Four days.
It had been four days since the training began.
Sweat traced a slow path down Catia's temple as she steadied her breathing, her gaze fixed on the half-assembled device hovering before her. Thin rings of blue energy revolved around its core, humming in perfect synchronization The sound was soft, controlled—nothing like the chaotic vibrations that once accompanied her experiments.
Earlier, even a minor error would have caused the structure to destabilize, tearing itself apart under its own power.
Now, it remained suspended in the air as if it were alive.
Obedient.
Catia lifted her hand slightly, adjusting the energy flow. The rings responded instantly, slowing before locking into place with a quiet click.
Behind her, Amanda watched in silence, arms crossed, posture relaxed but alert. Her sharp eyes missed nothing.
"You stabilized it faster this time," Amanda finally said.
Catia nodded, though her attention never left the device. "I didn't force the output," she replied. "I let it adapt."
Amanda stepped closer, examining the construct from multiple angles. The faint distortion around it was barely noticeable now—evidence of near-perfect balance.
"This isn't just improvement," Amanda said. "This is evolution."
Catia allowed herself a faint smile.
Over the past four days, she had gone far beyond her own expectations. Her understanding of technology had deepened—not just in complexity, but in intuition. She no longer saw machines as collections of components and equations. She felt them. Understood how systems wanted to function.
Advanced weapons. Modular constructs. Devices that bent conventional logic.
She had designed many of them.
But none had been revealed.
Not yet.
Some secrets were better kept until the right moment.
Her teleporter was the clearest example.
Once unstable, inaccurate, and limited in range, it had transformed into something entirely different. It could now lock onto planetary coordinates with terrifying precision, transport dozens at once, and cross interstellar distances without tearing space apart.
Even so, Catia felt no satisfaction.
She turned her focus inward.
Her shifter ability.
Under Amanda's guidance, she had learned restraint instead of excess, control instead of brute force. Efficiency over strain. Amanda never lectured or overexplained. She corrected mistakes, observed silently, and waited for Catia to arrive at understanding on her own.
That, more than anything, earned Catia's respect.
"Enough for today," Amanda said at last. "Rest. my dear little sister Growth doesn't occur through effort alone."
Catia exhaled slowly and deactivated the device. The hum faded, leaving only silence.
As she stepped back, a strange sensation settled deep within her chest.
Something was moving.
Quietly.
Invisibly.
Elsewhere—
Joshen stood alone at the edge of a still lake, staring at his reflection. The water was so calm that it mirrored his face perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Four days of training. pile of time pretending everything was normal.
It's been a long time, he thought. I don't want to deceive them anymore.
His fists tightened at his sides.
I actually believe they are my best friends.
The realization terrified him.
He had laughed with them. Trusted them.
And that was precisely the problem.
A cold voice surfaced in his mind, sharp and sudden.
You must endure it a little longer.
Joshen's breath caught.
We must adhere to the original plan.
The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive.
Threatening.
"...No need to explain," Joshen whispered under his breath. "I know."
He turned away from the water.
I won't allow that possibility to exist.
That night—
Moonlight washed over the land, pale and distant.
Original Kame stood beneath its glow, the space around him subtly warped, as though reality itself hesitated to make contact. His presence distorted the air, bending light and sound alike.
"So," Kame said calmly, his gaze unreadable, "this time has finally come."
Joshen swallowed. "You're certain there's no other way?"
Kame shook his head slowly. "This is the only path where survival remains possible."
A pause stretched between them.
The moonlight flickered.
"When the necessary conditions are fulfilled," Kame added, "everything will return to its rightful place."
Joshen looked down at his trembling hands.
"I understand," he said quietly.
Morning arrived without warning.
The message was not spoken.
Not written.
It simply appeared.
Transmigration SuccessfulSubject: Kame KousleHost Body: Joshen GramelaStatus: Complete
At the exact same moment—
On a distant world—
The sky above Jake's planet fractured into unnatural geometric patterns, as though reality itself were tearing apart.
Black sheets—thin as paper—rained from the heavens.
They burned upon contact with the ground.
The paper Jake found leaving from subway at the beginning
History would later name it The First Black Paper Incident.
And at the center of the chaos—
Two souls crossed.
The real Joshen and Jake exchanged bodies.
No warning.
No mercy.
Reality adjusted itself seamlessly, as if this outcome had always been inevitable.
Back in the present—
Jake gasped awake.
His chest heaved as unfamiliar pain surged through his body. Every breath felt wrong. Heavy.
His senses were sharper. The air denser. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Slowly, he raised his hands.
They weren't his.
"What…?" His voice sounded wrong too—deeper, unfamiliar.
Panic began to creep in.
Jake stumbled toward a reflective surface and froze.
A stranger stared back at him.
"No," he whispered. "No… no, no—"
His breathing became erratic.
How did I get back here ?
And more importantly—
Who is inside my body ?
The thought sent a chill deeper than fear.
Something irreversible had begun.
And the world was already paying the price.