Aden woke abruptly, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. The room around him was dimly lit, and the ornate ceiling above him came into sharp focus as he blinked several times. His heart pounded as though it wanted to escape his chest, his breathing ragged as he tried to piece together what had just happened.
"I'm alive?" he whispered, barely able to believe it. His hand instinctively touched his chest, then his arms, confirming he was unharmed. "Was it just a nightmare?"
Before he could fully process, a timid voice broke through his thoughts.
"Your…Your Highness, are you okay? Y-You were screaming in your sleep..."
Aden's head snapped toward the source of the voice. A boy—no, a teenager—stood by the bed, his light blonde hair slightly disheveled and his wide purple eyes filled with concern. He was dressed in clothes that seemed straight out of a historical drama, neat but modest compared to the room's extravagant decor.
'Your Highness?' Aden's thoughts came to a screeching halt. 'What the hell?'
He stared at the boy for a long moment, his mind racing. The teenager's presence didn't make sense. None of this did. Aden looked down at himself and realized he was wearing a silky, intricate outfit—the kind he'd only seen in costume dramas. It felt too real, the fabric too soft against his skin, to be part of a dream.
"No way," Aden muttered. "This can't be real."
The teenager took a cautious step forward, his face etched with worry. "Y-Your Highness?"
"What did you just call me?" Aden asked, his voice hoarse. His mind was a whirlwind of panic and confusion.
"Your Highness," the boy repeated, his voice trembling. "Are you… are you hurt? Should I call for the maids?"
Aden didn't answer. Instead, the first thing that came to his mind was the simplest way to prove this wasn't real. He raised his hand and slapped himself—hard.
The sharp sting bloomed across his cheek, followed by a gasp from the boy. "Y-Your Highness, why did you do that? Are… oh no…"
The teenager scrambled closer, his panic growing as he hovered over Aden. "Your Highness, please don't hurt yourself! I'll call for help!" Without waiting for Aden's response, he turned toward the door and called out in a shrill voice, "The prince is awake! Someone, please come quickly!"
The room seemed to close in on Aden as reality settled in. The slap had hurt. It had really hurt. This wasn't a dream.
"This… this is real?" Aden whispered, his voice barely audible. His hand shot to his mouth, then to his face, tracing unfamiliar features with trembling fingers. "FUCK!" he screamed, the sound echoing through the opulent room.
The teenager flinched, his hands wringing nervously as he backed away slightly. "Y-Your Highness, please! Are you feeling unwell? I… I'll fetch the doctor…"
Aden's mind was spinning out of control. He had been hit by a car. He was sure of it. The headlights, the honking, the pain—it all came rushing back. He had died. There was no other explanation. And now he was… here?
'What the fuck is this?' Aden thought. 'This has to be transmigration. Like those novels Kaz is always talking about. But that's impossible! That's fiction! This… this doesn't happen.'
His breathing quickened as the full weight of the situation crashed down on him. He clutched his head, trying to steady himself, but another thought hit him like a ton of bricks.
"My sister!" Aden shouted, his voice cracking. "Where's my sister?"
The teenager froze, his confusion evident. "Y-Your sister? She's… she's at home, Your Highness. She's safe."
Aden stared at him, his heart sinking. 'No, not whoever you think is my sister,' he thought desperately. 'Kaz. My Kaz. She's alone. I left her alone!'
Tears pricked at his eyes as the overwhelming realization set in. He was here—wherever "here" was—and Kaz was back in their world, left to fend for herself without him. The idea of her being alone, without anyone to rely on, was too much to bear. His hands shook as he tried to suppress the sob building in his throat.
"This isn't happening," he whispered, his voice trembling. "This can't be happening."
The teenager hovered nervously, his face a mixture of worry and confusion as he cautiously approached again. "Your Highness, please, you mustn't upset yourself. I… I'll fetch the maids and the doctor. They'll know what to do."
Aden didn't respond, his mind too consumed by thoughts of Kaz and the absurdity of his situation. All he could think was that he had died too young. He was a virgin who'd never even kissed a girl. And worse, he had abandoned Kaz.
He pressed his palms to his face, his voice a muffled scream of anguish. "What the fuck is going on? Why am I even here?!"
Aden's breaths came in ragged gasps as he clutched his head, the weight of his situation suffocating him. His voice trembled as he repeated, "I have to get back. I have to get back!" His words were frantic, desperate. "I want to go home! Please, whatever god exists... let me go home!"
He stumbled to his feet, his legs shaky as he stared up at the ornate ceiling, as though searching for divine intervention. His chest heaved with each breath, and his hands curled into trembling fists at his sides.
'This can't be real. It can't be happening. Kaz needs me! I can't leave her alone!'
The teenager standing nearby flinched, his wide eyes filling with tears. His voice cracked as he called out, "Maids! Someone, please! Get the doctor! His Highness needs help!"
Aden barely registered the boy's panic, his own hysteria spiraling further. "Please," he choked, his voice breaking. "I don't want to be here. My sister needs me!"
Moments later, the door burst open, and two maids hurried in, followed closely by an elderly man dressed in fine robes, his presence exuding authority. The man, clearly the doctor, stepped forward and studied Aden with a sharp, assessing gaze. "What is the prince's condition?" he asked, his voice calm but firm.
The teenager's voice trembled as he tried to explain. "H-His Highness woke up screaming and crying. He… he's saying he wants to go home. He's… he's…" The boy's words faltered, tears pooling in his eyes.
"I want to go home!" Aden's voice cracked as he clutched his chest, his hysteria reaching its peak. His entire body shook as his words tumbled out in a torrent of raw emotion. "Please, let me go back! My sister needs me! I don't belong here!"
The doctor's brow furrowed as he exchanged a glance with the maids. His voice was steady as he addressed Aden. "Your Highness, please, you're confused. You hit your head yesterday. You've already been here for a month, and now you suddenly want to go home?"
Aden's knees threatened to give out as he clutched his head. 'A month? What the hell is he talking about? This isn't real! It can't be!'
"My sister needs me," he whispered, his voice cracking with despair. "Please…"
The maids exchanged sympathetic glances and approached him cautiously, their movements slow and deliberate, as though dealing with a frightened animal. "Your Highness, please," one of them said softly, her voice soothing. "Lay back down. You're still recovering. You might hurt yourself again."
The other maid added, "I'm sure His Majesty will meet with you soon. We understand his negligence must be upsetting, but—"
"That's not it!" Aden screamed, his voice raw with frustration. His hands gripped his hair as he paced erratically. "You don't understand! You don't know me! I don't belong here! Whoever you think I am, it's not me!"
The doctor's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to the teenager and whispered something inaudible. The boy's face went pale, his eyes widening in fear. The maids, too, seemed to understand, their expressions growing tense.
"Your Highness," the doctor said, stepping forward, his voice calm but resolute, "we cannot allow you to harm yourself further. I will use magic to sedate you."
Aden froze, his eyes darting between the doctor and the approaching maids. "No," he muttered, backing away. "No! Stay away from me! I need to go home!"
The maids lunged, grabbing hold of him despite his struggling. His weak, trembling body was no match for their firm grip. Aden kicked and thrashed, his screams echoing through the room.
"Let me go! Please, I have to go home!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.
The doctor approached, his hand outstretched. "This is for your own good, Your Highness," he said softly.
Aden's frantic pleas continued until the doctor placed a cool hand on his forehead and whispered a single word.
"Sleep."
A sharp pain pierced through Aden's head, and his vision began to blur. His struggles weakened as darkness crept in, swallowing his panic, his tears, and his desperation. The last thing he saw was the worried faces of the maids and the trembling teenager before everything went black.