Rowan's head throbbed like a drum solo gone rogue after too much cheap beer. Everything was blurry, like a bad hangover mixed with a near-death experience. He groaned as he pushed himself up on the creaky, dusty bed. The room looked like it hadn't seen a proper cleaning since forever, filled with furniture that smelled like his grandma's attic.
Alone in the dim light, Rowan tried to piece together what the heck happened. His mind felt like scrambled eggs, memories flickering like a dying candle. He vaguely remembered leaving the office, and then... poof. Nothing. A dull ache throbbed where he figured a car might have met him, but instead of a hospital room with beeping machines and bored nurses, he was here, in this forgotten corner of nowhere.
"What the actual...?" he mumbled to himself, voice barely a whisper. He could picture the office, Joonwoo offering coffee, then... a confusing blank.
Gritting his teeth through the pain, Rowan hauled himself to his feet. The world wobbled like a funhouse mirror, his legs unsteady like a newborn foal. He stumbled towards the opening, eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Everything was weird, like something straight out of a fantasy novel.
As he walked, bits and pieces of memories started to trickle back, fuzzy and disjointed. Faces, places, moments from another life – his life – flickered through his mind. He saw the office, heard Joonwoo's laugh, remembered the warmth of the coffee cup in his hands. But how he got here remained a mind-blowing mystery.
He reached the opening and pushed it open. Sunlight flooded in, chasing away the shadows. He blinked, momentarily blinded, then squinted at the scene before him. A village sprawled out, with huts similar to the one he woke up in, only bigger and more lived-in.
His gaze landed on a blacksmith shop nearby, where a man and woman were hammering away at metal. A pang of something – recognition? familiarity? – hit him in the gut. He watched, frozen, as they turned, their eyes widening in shock. They shouted a name, "Son!" their voices laced with a mix of disbelief and joy.
Rowan's confusion went from a simmer to a full boil. The couple rushed towards him, the woman's eyes welling up, and the man's voice cracking with emotion as they engulfed him in a hug. "We thought we lost you," the woman choked out, her voice thick with relief.
He stood there, paralyzed, caught between utter confusion and a strange sense of belonging. How could they possibly think he was their son? He glanced down at himself, and a jolt of pure shock shot through him. He wasn't the same person he remembered. Instead, he looked like a scrawny kid, a far cry from his previous self.
Questions bombarded him, each one more mind-boggling than the last. His brain spun, trying to grasp the impossible truth – somehow, he'd been yanked into this world, shoved into this body that wasn't his own.
His heart hammered in his chest, a mix of terror and disbelief. As the weight of it all sunk in, he took in the village, the people, the life that was now his reality. The sun beat down on him, the world vibrant and beautiful, yet shrouded in mysteries that defied explanation.
As Rowan stood bewildered, bathed in the warm sunlight, the man and woman who had rushed towards him squeezed him in a hug so tight he could barely breathe. Already disoriented by the sudden change and the strange world he found himself in, the intensity of their embrace only added to his unease. He felt dizzy, like his very sense of self was unraveling.
The woman's voice trembled with emotion as she turned to the man, tears welling up in her eyes. "The village doctor said he wouldn't make it?," she said, her voice filled with desperation. The man shook his head, his own voice laced with confusion. "I don't understand what happened..."
Turning back to Rowan, they looked at him with genuine concern. " Are you feeling, son?" the woman asked, her eyes searching his face for any sign of improvement. But Rowan was overwhelmed, grappling with a surge of emotions that left him speechless.
The man interjected with a trembling voice, his relief evident in every word. "I'm just glad he's okay. Of course he is – he's my son." The conviction in his voice was unwavering, a testament to the depths of his love and belief.
They squeezed me tight, their words a jumble of relief and something else I couldn't place. "Son! We thought we lost you!" the woman choked out, tears welling in her eyes.
"Son?" I echoed in my head. What the heavens was happening here? Parents? But not mine, not from that life I vaguely remembered - the office, Joonwoo's laugh, the warmth of the coffee mug. This body I was in felt wrong, scrawny and weak compared to my own. Where did my real body go?
The confusion hammered at me, a dull ache threatening to drown out everything else. They bustled around me, these supposed parents, concern etched on their faces. They brought meager offerings of bread and water, a silent testament to their love despite their obvious poverty.
News of my "miraculous recovery" spread like wildfire. Soon, the place was buzzing with activity. People I didn't know - faces I couldn't place, names that blurred together - came to offer congratulations, their voices a mix of joy and something else... suspicion?
Whispers started swirling around me like dust devils in a desert. An old woman, her brow furrowed in deep thought, spoke of "divine intervention." Another, a man known for his doubts, challenged this notion, muttering about mistaken diagnoses.
The whole scene felt surreal. One minute I was in my world, the next I'm here, in this strange place, reborn into a body that wasn't mine, surrounded by people who thought I was their son. My mind reeled, desperate for answers. What happened to me? How did I get here? And most importantly, where was I?