Marcus stared at the reflection in the mirror, still trying to make sense of the situation. His fingers brushed against his face once more, as if feeling the unfamiliar skin would somehow break the illusion. But no matter how many times he blinked, it remained the same: the sharp jawline, the striking amber eyes, the tousled dark hair. The face of someone else.
He took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, the sinking feeling in his stomach growing. His first instinct was to find answers. He needed to know where he was, who he was, and most importantly—how to survive. If this was anything like the webnovel worlds he read about, ignorance was dangerous.
The room around him was luxurious, more refined than anything he had ever seen in real life. The shelves were filled with old books, but a closer inspection revealed strange, glowing inscriptions on the spines—magical texts, maybe? A few odd gadgets lay on the large wooden desk in the corner, sleek and futuristic, out of place among the more antique furniture.
He started searching, pulling open drawers, running his fingers over the books, looking for anything—anything—that could explain where he was. But the room offered no clear answers. Nothing seemed familiar.
Until he spotted something hanging in the corner of the room. A uniform, neatly pressed and hanging on a polished brass hook. It wasn't just any uniform, though—there was something different about it. Marcus moved closer, examining the outfit. It looked like a school uniform, but with a futuristic twist. The design was sharp and precise, the fabric slightly shimmering under the light. Silver trim ran along the edges of the collar and cuffs, and the sleek black material seemed to shift as he touched it, adapting to his fingers like some kind of advanced fabric.
What really caught his attention, though, was the small digital tag embedded into the front of the jacket. He tapped the corner of it lightly, and the tag flickered to life, projecting a holographic display above the fabric. A name scrolled across the small screen in sharp, glowing letters.
Lucius Foster.
Marcus's breath caught in his throat. The name meant nothing to him at first, but as he stared at the simulated ID photo next to the name, a wave of relief and discomfort washed over him at once. The photo showed the same face—the one he had just seen in the mirror.
Lucius Foster. So that's who I am… or at least who this body belongs to.
For the first time since waking up in this unfamiliar world, Marcus had something solid to hold onto. A name. Lucius Foster. He turned the jacket over in his hands, feeling the weight of it. If he was going to pass as this person, he'd need to know more about him. But for now, it was a start.
Setting the uniform back on the hook, he turned toward the large window at the far end of the room. He hadn't paid much attention to it earlier, but now he approached it cautiously, pulling back the heavy curtain to peer outside. The sight that greeted him made his heart skip a beat.
He was high up—almost ten stories, by his rough estimate. The window overlooked what appeared to be a massive estate. Down below, a meticulously kept garden stretched out, with neatly trimmed hedges, blooming flowers, and pathways that crisscrossed the grounds. Off to one side, a large fountain gurgled softly, its water shimmering in the sunlight.
And beyond the garden, he could see people. Women in formal clothing—maids, judging by their attire—walked along the paths, carrying trays or tending to the plants. There were others, too—men and women dressed in what looked like refined, casual clothing, milling about as if they had all the time in the world.
This isn't just a house. It's a mansion. A massive one.
Marcus felt a growing sense of unease. A place this large, this opulent, was clearly the home of a wealthy family. And judging by the uniform and the people outside, whoever Lucius Foster was, he wasn't just some ordinary guy.
I'm in deep. Really deep.
He let the curtain fall back into place and took a step away from the window. His mind raced as he tried to piece together the situation. He had no idea where he was, who these people were, or what kind of life Lucius led. The thought of being in a world where wealth and power clearly played a significant role was intimidating. He needed more information. He needed to explore.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Time to find out what's really going on."
Gathering his resolve, Marcus crossed the room to the door and hesitated only for a moment before turning the handle. The door swung open with a soft creak, revealing a long hallway lined with more doors. The air outside the room felt cooler, and the polished wooden floors gleamed beneath his feet. It was eerily quiet, save for the distant murmur of voices and the occasional clink of dishes from somewhere down the hall.
Stepping out, he made sure to close the door quietly behind him. He glanced both ways down the corridor, unsure of which direction to take. The hallway stretched on endlessly, lit by soft, ambient lighting from sconces on the walls. It felt like he was in some kind of palace.
Keeping his footsteps light, he ventured down the hallway, hoping to come across something that might give him a clue—anything that could explain his current predicament. As he walked, he passed by several more doors, each one identical to the next. Were these guest rooms? Offices? He had no idea.
After a few minutes, he came to a grand staircase at the end of the hall, sweeping down to the floors below. He hesitated at the top, glancing down at the foyer below. It was vast, with high ceilings, marble floors, and an enormous chandelier that sparkled above the entrance. From this vantage point, he could see more of the staff moving about—maids, a butler, a few others who looked like they belonged to this place as much as the decor did.
This wasn't just some family's home. This was something bigger, something more dangerous. Marcus swallowed hard, trying to ignore the growing knot in his stomach.
"Well, no going back now," he muttered, gripping the railing as he began his descent down the grand staircase.
As Marcus—no, Lucius—descended the stairs, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. The sprawling estate, the wealth, the opulence—it all pointed to a life of privilege, but it also meant he was in a world where power dynamics were everything. He needed to learn fast, and he needed to stay sharp.
Who is Lucius Foster? he wondered. And what kind of world have I been thrown into?
With each step, he felt both excitement and dread building inside him. The truth was out there, waiting for him to discover it. He just hoped he could figure it out before it was too late.