I woke up on the floor.
For a few seconds, I didn't move.
Not because I was scared—but because moving without understanding my situation would be foolish. Guessing wasted energy, and right now, I could already tell my body didn't have much of it.
The floor beneath me was cold stone. Not painfully cold, just enough to feel real.
That confirmed one thing.
This wasn't a dream.
My mouth was dry. I swallowed once. My throat resisted, then worked on the second try.
Breathing: normal.Consciousness: clear.
I opened my eyes.
The ceiling wasn't familiar.
Cracked stone. A dim light coming from the side. No decoration. No comfort.
This wasn't my room.
I closed my eyes and opened them again.
Nothing changed.
So I wasn't hallucinating.
I slowly pushed myself up. A dull pain spread through my ribs, deep inside my body. It wasn't sharp, but it was strong enough to remind me that I was injured.
Not dying.
But not fine either.
I adjusted my posture until the pain became tolerable.
Pain meant nerves were working.That meant my body was still alive.
I looked at my hands.
There was dirt under my nails. Small cuts on my fingers. One shallow cut across my palm that had already started to heal.
This body had been used recently.
I stood up.
For a moment, my balance was off. My legs reacted a little slower than my thoughts. After half a second, I stabilized.
Conclusion:Low stamina.Weak physical condition.Still usable.
The room itself was small and empty. A narrow bed against the wall. A thin blanket folded too neatly. A cracked screen on the opposite side, quietly humming.
Someone had prepared this room.
They just didn't expect me to use it for long.
Outside the window, I could hear traffic. Engines. Distant horns. The sound of a city going on as usual.
So this wasn't some medieval fantasy land.
This was a modern world.
That simplified things.
I walked to the screen and looked at my reflection.
The face staring back at me wasn't mine.
It was thinner. Sharper. Tired in a way sleep wouldn't fix.
This body looked like someone who had already been discarded.
I checked my pockets.
Simple clothes. Clean. Plain. Nothing expensive.
Then my fingers touched something hard.
A card.
Not an ID card.
A crest.
The moment I saw it, I recognized it.
House Calderon.
And immediately, I felt annoyed.
Not afraid.Not shocked.
Annoyed.
I remembered designing that crest. I remembered approving it when I wrote the story. It was meant to look respectable, stable, and forgettable.
House Calderon existed in the story.
Its leader existed.Its heir existed.
I remembered all of them.
But I did not remember Elias Calderon.
That wasn't strange.
It was wrong.
Like seeing a name added to a book after it was already published.
Footsteps slowed outside the door.
Then stopped.
The door opened.
A man entered, dressed in a black suit with white gloves. His posture was straight, controlled, and professional.
A butler.
His eyes widened slightly when he saw me standing.
Only slightly.
"You're awake," he said.
Not a question.
"How long?" I asked.
"Since yesterday," he replied. "The doctors did not expect you to wake up."
Expectation mattered more than the result.
"And my condition?"
"Stable," he said carefully.
He turned and walked away. I followed.
The hallway was clean and modern. Cameras were placed openly along the walls. This wasn't a prison.
It was a place where unwanted outcomes were quietly stored.
We entered the medical wing.
A doctor was standing in front of a screen. When he saw me, he stopped moving.
He looked at me once, carefully.
"You're conscious," he said.
"Yes."
"You weren't expected to be."
He looked back at the screen.
"Your file is closed."
"Why?" I asked.
"You were recorded as dead."
"How?"
"Internal organ failure."
"And no treatment?"
"No order."
That was all he said.
I stepped closer to the screen.
My name was there.
Elias Calderon.
And nothing else.
No recovery notes.No future appointments.No continuation.
"You didn't reopen it," I said.
"That decision isn't medical," the doctor replied.
"Then what am I now?"
He paused for a moment.
"Alive," he said.Then added, "Unofficial."
That explained everything.
I left the room.
As I walked down the hallway, something strange happened.
A transparent screen suddenly appeared in front of my eyes.
It floated in the air, perfectly clear, unaffected by blinking or movement.
This wasn't imagination.
This was a system interface.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING]
Name: Elias CalderonExistence Status: UnofficialCurrent State: Post-Death Error
I stared at it.
No panic. No excitement.
Of course there was a system.
Every transmigration story had one.
[STATUS]
Level: 1Tier: D+ (Barely Functional)
Health: 63%Stamina: 22% ⚠Energy: 14%
Condition Notes:• Internal injuries healing• Very low endurance• High fatigue risk
That explained why my body felt so weak.
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: FAgility: DEndurance: FPerception: CIntelligence: SWillpower: A
This body was weak.
My mind wasn't.
[SKILLS]
Shadow (Level 1 – Fragment)Effect: Makes people notice me later than they shouldDuration: About 3–5 secondsCost: Heavy stamina lossLimit: Can't be used continuously
Transition Agility (Level 1)Effect: Allows me to move smoothly while Shadow is activeLimit: Only works during Shadow
So that was my power.
Not invisibility.
Not strength.
Just delayed awareness.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Survival classified as anomalyObservation mode activeDirect assistance unavailable
I tested it.
Two hospital staff members in light blue uniforms were walking down the hallway, talking to each other.
They hadn't noticed me yet.
I activated the skill.
[Shadow Activated]
For a brief moment, their attention slipped.
Their eyes passed over me without focusing. Their steps adjusted naturally, as if I wasn't important enough to notice.
I walked between them.
Then the effect ended.
[WARNING: STAMINA CRITICAL][Shadow Deactivated]
My vision blurred.
My breathing became heavy.
My legs almost gave out, and I had to grab the wall to stay standing.
One use.
Maybe two at most.
Shadow wasn't power.
It was a chance.
A small window to survive if I used it perfectly.
I steadied myself as the system displayed a final warning.
[STAMINA: 9%]
Recommendation: Immediate rest
Elias Calderon was dead.
The system confirmed that.
Which meant whatever I became next wasn't bound by his fate.
Or his role.
And that was enough.