12:34 PM
Akondo sat in a chair at one side of a desk, facing two police officers who were seated across from him. His expression was a mixture of slight depression and emotional detachment as he rubbed one hand's fingers against the skin of the other, where a visible bandage wrapped around his palm.
"We're sorry to call you at this moment," said the male officer with a beard, his voice steady but soft. "We've reviewed the post-mortem results, and it appears your mother died of a heart attack. However, we still need to ask you some questions. Is that alright?"
Akondo nodded slowly, his voice trembling as he replied, "Yas… No… I mean, no problem."
"Okay," the officer continued, his tone professional yet compassionate. "We need to understand exactly what happened and how your mother died. The call records from 611 were unusual. Can you explain what occurred or what you encountered?"
The female officer beside him scribbled notes in a small notepad, her pen gliding swiftly across the page.
"Um… water, please," Akondo murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Of course," the female officer replied, quickly reaching for a glass of water and handing it to him.
His hands shook as he took the glass, bringing it closer to his lips.
"How did the cut on your hand occur? We found broken glass in your home along with blood," the male officer asked, his gaze intent.
Akondo paused before taking a sip. "Oh… this," he said, the glass trembling slightly in his grip. He thought, "What should I say now? If I tell them I was inside my mom's body, no one will believe me." He continued to drink, trying to gather his thoughts. "From a third-person perspective, this situation seems impossible. I can't fully comprehend what happened. How can I explain this to them?"
Setting the glass down on the table, he took a deep breath and said, "It was about 9 PM. I was studying in my room. I had eaten too much before that, and maybe that's why I felt a sudden pain in my chest."
"Pain in your chest from eating too much?" the officer questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe… but that's what I thought. I'm not a science student, so I don't have any idea," Akondo replied, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Wait, how did you know the exact time?" the woman officer interjected, her interest piqued.
"Just before the pain, I received a call from my girlfriend. I glanced at the clock then. It was around nine. I can't say exactly, but it was close," he explained, his eyes darting between the two officers.
"Continue," said the male officer, nodding for him to go on.
"I wanted to drink some water, so I went downstairs. I slipped and fell down the stairs. Then… my mom came rushing in, asking what was wrong, but after that, I don't remember anything," Akondo said, his voice breaking slightly.
"What happened that you can't remember?" the male officer pressed gently.
"I really don't know. The last thing I recall was my mom trying to ask me what was wrong," he replied, his throat tightening as he fought back tears.
"Okay… then what?" asked the female officer, her tone softening.
"I woke up with my face wet and my hand on a glass that had fallen beside me," Akondo recounted, a tremor in his voice.
"Is that how you injured your hand?" the male officer asked, taking notes.
"Yes," Akondo said, his gaze dropping to the table.
"Maybe his mom tried to wake him up, and that's why the glass was there," the female officer suggested, glancing at her partner.
"Okay, continue," the male officer prompted, his eyes fixed on Akondo.
"I heard someone talking from the room next to mine. I walked there and found my mom's body along with her phone. The call was with the 611 number," Akondo said, his face crumpling as he fought back tears.
"Hmm… understood," the male officer replied, standing up and closing the audio recorder tucked in his pocket.
The female officer made a quick call, handing her phone to her partner.
The male officer raised the phone to his ear, listening intently. "It seems like a normal cause of death. No investigation is needed," he said, his expression unreadable.
He turned to Akondo, his voice turning serious. "Do you want any investigation into your mother's death?"
Akondo met his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "I… I guess," he replied quietly.
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Valloria (A Country)
The night was nearly over, with the first hints of dawn beginning to stretch across the horizon. Inside a grand palace, its ancient stones whispered stories of centuries past, a vast empty field surrounded the estate, encompassing a square kilometer of meticulously maintained gardens, all under the watchful eyes of guards stationed at the gate.
In one of the palace's lavish rooms, young man (18yr old) stood before a mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. His golden eyes glimmered with determination, his lean physique—shirtless and defined—showcasing abs that glinted in the soft light filtering through the window. His mid-length blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, catching the morning glow like a halo.
As he dressed in a crisp white shirt, preparing to don a royal outfit, a voice broke the morning's stillness.
"Why did you wake up all of a sudden?" The girl, barely his age, was propped up on the bed. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders, framing her blue eyes heavily accentuated with makeup, a stark contrast to her otherwise vulnerable state beneath a white blanket.
"I haven't told you yet, I guess. I'm leaving Valloria," he replied, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of finality.
"What? What do you mean you're going to leave?" Her voice rose in disbelief, eyes widening.
"Not permanently. I'll finish my last months of high school and university in Antherion," he explained, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.
"Wait… what about me? That's a long time! Aren't you taking me with you?" she pressed, her tone shifting from shock to desperation.
"Yeah, so? Who are you that I have to take you with me?" he countered, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What? I am your girlfriend!" she exclaimed, confusion etched across her face.
"And what makes you my girlfriend?" he retorted, his smirk widening.
"It's… it's because I love you, you dumbass!" she shot back, the vulnerability in her voice a mix of frustration and urgency.
At that moment, his golden eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, allowing him to see deeper into her soul. It flickered red, a telltale sign of deceit.
"That's a lie. You never loved me. Your priority was my money, not my heart. You wanted to be the queen of this land, not my queen," he said, the smile fading into a cold expression.
"What? That's not true! I… I love you, nothing else!" she protested, her voice trembling.
"Please. If we're talking about love, then I loved you once. But then I realized your true motives. I pretended to love you, just as you pretended all this time." He paused, watching her reaction closely.
As she opened her mouth to respond, he abruptly tossed her dress onto her face. "Wear it," he said with a mockingly cheerful tone.
"Oh… this was a fun game, right?" she said, her bravado faltering.
"No, it's not a game. Remember every time we did what we did today? I always handed you money afterward, thinking it was a gift. But it was payment, plain and simple. You've acted like a prostitute for the last few months, ever since I discovered who you really are," he said, the words dripping with disdain.
A knock at the door interrupted their tense exchange.
"Come in," he called, maintaining his composure.
A maid entered, her expression professional. "Prince, your flight leaves in an hour. The king and queen are requesting to see you."
"Yeah, tell them to wait a few minutes," he replied dismissively.
"Pardon me," the maid said, exiting quickly.
"You see that maid? My mom was also a maid when my dad was a prince. Despite her humble beginnings, she became the queen, perfectly suited for the role. My father chose wisely, and I won't make the same mistake in planning to have you as my queen," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.
"You used me… you used me all this time," she accused, anger flaring in her eyes.
"No, just like your priority was my wealth, mine was your body. Not from the start, but definitely after I learned the truth about you," he countered.
"No… I'll expose you! The world will know the true face of the prince!" she threatened, desperation creeping into her tone.
"It's 2024. The world is modern, and the king's family has survived all this time by showing that dictatorship can be beneficial. We've created one of the most peaceful countries. No one can label us as tyrants," he explained, his tone steady. "You think you can ruin that image with a single post?"
"I can destroy your reputation in an instant!" she shot back defiantly.
"Not a chance. I have stronger evidence against you—proof of how many men you've been with since our relationship began. And I have recordings where you openly stated you wanted my money and desired to be queen," he said, stepping closer to the door, turning to face her once more.
"Don't worry; I've transferred ten million dollars into your account. I don't play unfair games," he added, his expression unyielding.
"Ren! Stop, please. I'm sorry!" she begged, her voice cracking as she called out to him.
"We're not lovers anymore, nor are we in a relationship. Call me Prince Ren—show some respect," he commanded coldly. "You have twenty minutes to leave the palace. There's a car waiting outside to take you home. If you don't leave, I'll expose you first. But if you do leave, you're free to go."
With that, he closed the door, leaving her alone in the room, the weight of their shattered relationship hanging heavy in the air.
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March 3, 2024
2:38 PM
Akondo stood silently in front of his mother's grave. The partly snow-covered ground stretched out beneath his feet, the chill biting into his skin. The sun pierced through the wintry haze, casting long shadows and illuminating his face, which was flushed from the cold. His loose clothing fluttered gently in the wind, which seemed to carry a lingering ache. His eyes, raw and dry from crying, lingered on the headstone.
He wasn't wearing a winter coat. Time around him felt accelerated, as if the world was spinning while he remained motionless—numb to everything but the weight of grief pressing down on his chest.
Seren, who had been standing beside him, slipped her sweater off and draped it over his shoulders. She placed a hand on his back, a silent offering of warmth. Without a word, she turned and began to walk away, giving him a moment alone.
Akondo remained fixed in place, staring at the inscription on the grave. At this point, he wasn't even sure where to direct his anguish. He couldn't yet grasp that his mother's death was tied to him, nor could he find the clarity to face what he was supposed to do next. Somewhere deep inside, guilt gnawed at him—heavy and consuming.
He dropped to his knees, his breaths coming in quick, ragged bursts as he started to cough violently. Seeing this, Seren hurried back to his side, her concern apparent. She reached for him, steadying his trembling shoulders, but Akondo didn't resist; instead, he leaned into her touch, unable to hold back the tears he had been fighting.
"I don't know how it happened," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "But… I'm sorry, Mom… please forgive me."
A distant roar of an airplane cut through the silence. Akondo tilted his head up, eyes searching the overcast sky as a memory surged to the forefront of his mind—
He was ten years old, standing on the roof of his house, gazing at the sky with innocent wonder. As a plane flew overhead, he couldn't contain his excitement.
"Mom, look! A plane, a plane!" he shouted, jumping up and down.
His mother was on the rooftop, tending to a small flower garden she'd nurtured over the years.
But in his enthusiasm, Akondo's foot slipped. He stumbled backward, falling towards the sharp antenna on the roof. In a heartbeat, his mother reached out, catching him just in time. But the jagged metal edge of the antenna dug deep into her arm, drawing blood.
"Mom! Are you okay?" Akondo cried, his eyes wide with fear.
"It's fine," she said quickly, brushing off the pain with a strained smile. "Are you okay?"
Her words lingered in Akondo's mind like a ghost, haunting him even now. He barely noticed the soft flutter of wings until a white pigeon landed gently on the cross above his mother's grave, its feathers ruffling in the cold breeze.
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That Afternoon
Children were playing football in a field, their laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. The field bordered a narrow road, and with a powerful kick, one of the boys sent the ball rolling toward the street. Seren, seeing this, swiftly stepped in and intercepted the ball before it reached the asphalt.
With a practiced kick, she sent the ball back to the children, who cheered in gratitude. She smiled faintly and adjusted her jacket against the cold.
When she turned, she found Akondo lying on the ground a short distance away. He had one hand behind his head, his eyes shut, as if trying to shut out the world. Seren walked over and sat beside him, staring up at the sky. The sun was setting slowly, casting a warm, fading glow across the horizon.
A plane soared overhead, its distant rumble catching the attention of the kids. They jumped and pointed at the sky with unrestrained joy, calling out to the plane as if it could hear them.
"Remember when we were kids like them?" Seren said softly, still gazing at the sky. "Seeing a plane used to be the most exciting thing. But as we grow up, it all starts to feel so… trivial. We change, either because of age or the things we go through."
She lay down next to Akondo, her voice carrying a wistful smile. "We adapt, and that's what makes us human, I guess."
Akondo opened his eyes, his gaze following the fading silhouette of the plane until it disappeared beyond the clouds.
Seren's expression turned serious as she continued, "I may not fully understand your pain, but I can sense it… a little. But as a man, you have to stay strong."
"I am strong," Akondo replied, his voice barely steady, betraying the cracks in his resolve.
"Sorry… I didn't mean it that way," Seren said quickly. "I just—forget I said that." She shifted closer to him, the cold earth pressing against her side. "So, what's the plan now?"
"I don't know," Akondo muttered, staring blankly at the darkening sky. "I'm not going to school for a while."
"Yeah… take your time," Seren replied, her voice gentle. "If you need me, just call. I'll be here."
"Hmm," Akondo murmured in response.
Seren reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. "You should shower and warm up. You can't stay out here like this."
"I'm fine," Akondo said flatly.
She sighed and sat up, attempting to pull him up with her. "Come on, you'll catch a cold," she insisted.
In a half-hearted attempt to resist, Akondo grabbed her wrist, inadvertently pulling her down. Seren stumbled, and in an instant, she found herself inches away from Akondo's face.
Their breaths mingled in the cold air, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch between them. Seren's lips hovered near his, and she hesitated, caught between impulse and restraint. Suddenly, she pulled back, her cheeks flushed.
"Alright," she stammered, embarrassed. "Take your time. I'll be heading out."
"Okay," Akondo replied, closing his eyes once more. "Take care."
Seren hesitated for a moment before walking away. Time passed, the field slowly emptied, and Akondo drifted off to sleep. Night fell, and no snow came that evening.
When Akondo awoke, he found the world shrouded in darkness. He sat up and looked around, his surroundings illuminated only by the dim streetlights. He pulled out his phone—9:15 PM.
"Nine already? When did I fall asleep?" he muttered, standing up and brushing the dirt off his clothes. He started walking along the street, heading toward home.
As he walked, he felt a gnawing hunger and stopped by a street food stall. The vendor, a middle-aged man, was serving hot dogs, and the smell of grilled meat filled the air. Akondo approached, but before he could speak, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest.
"This pain… just like last night," he gasped, clutching his chest as his vision blurred. The ground seemed to spin beneath him, and he collapsed.
The hot dog vendor noticed first and rushed over, kneeling beside him. "Sir, are you okay?" he asked, alarmed.
Akondo's mind was spinning, his thoughts fragmented. "Why… Why does it feel like knives are stabbing my chest.. Again?..it feels like last night " he wondered in agony. His body felt as if it were being torn apart from the inside.
A crowd began to gather, whispering in concern. Akondo could barely make out their faces, only vague shapes in his dimming vision. The vendor grabbed his shoulder, trying to help him sit up.
Suddenly, a familiar digital display appeared before Akondo's eyes, a message flashing in red:
"Swap body in 10 seconds to survive."
He couldn't process what it meant, only that the words seemed like his last chance. Another notification appeared almost immediately: "Swap completed."
Time seemed to freeze. Akondo's and the vendor's eyes both glowed a vivid red, and the world around them faded into silence. Akondo's eyes closed involuntarily.
When he opened them again, he felt strange—disconnected. He glanced down and saw his own body lying on the ground. His hands, rough and worn, were not his own. The realization struck him hard: he was now in the body of the hot dog vendor.
To be continued…