The End of Haru's World
Haru sat cross-legged on his bed, headphones clamped over his ears, completely engrossed in the final moments of a critical raid. His fingers danced across the keyboard, issuing commands with the precision of a seasoned gamer. The vibrant glow of his computer screen reflected on his face as the virtual world consumed him.
"Almost there, team! One more phase, and we'll get the legendary drop!" he called out, his voice tinged with excitement.
The chat in his game filled with affirmations from his teammates. Haru was the undisputed leader of their guild, a prodigy in strategy and execution. He had spent years building his reputation as one of the best players in the game, "Eternal Quest." It was his escape from the mundane realities of life, a world where he wasn't an awkward teenager struggling to fit in.
But in his excitement, Haru didn't notice the faint rumble of an engine growing louder outside. His apartment window overlooked a busy street, a road often prone to reckless drivers. Tonight, fate would strike.
The sudden blare of a horn jolted him from his focus. He turned his head just in time to see the blinding headlights of an out-of-control truck barreling toward his building. The world slowed, and Haru's mind raced with questions he'd never have time to answer.
The impact was deafening. Glass shattered, metal twisted, and darkness swallowed him whole.
Awakening in the Unknown
Haru's senses returned slowly, piece by piece. The first thing he noticed was warmth a stark contrast to the cold, metallic touch of death he had expected. His body felt weightless, as if he were floating in a dream.
His eyelids fluttered open, and a canopy of rich purple fabric greeted him. His vision was hazy, but he could make out intricate gold embroidery adorning the drapes. He inhaled deeply, and the scent of lavender filled his lungs, calming his racing heart.
"Am I... alive?" he muttered. His voice sounded off, lighter and higher-pitched.
As his vision cleared, he pushed himself upright. The bed he lay on was massive, far more luxurious than anything he could afford. Silk sheets brushed against his skin, and ornate carvings adorned the wooden frame.
His heart pounded. This wasn't his room. Where was he?
The door creaked open, and Haru flinched. A young woman entered, her movements graceful yet deliberate. She wore a traditional maid's uniform, her black-and-white attire pristine. A silver tray balanced effortlessly in her hands, carrying a steaming teapot and a plate of biscuits.
"Good morning, Your Highness," she said, her voice soft and melodic.
Haru blinked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.
"Your... Highness?" he repeated, his tone laced with confusion.
She gave a polite nod, setting the tray on a nearby table. "You must be disoriented after the fall, my prince. Shall I summon the royal physician?"
Haru froze, her words sinking in. Prince? Royal physician? His heart raced as a sinking feeling took hold.
He glanced down at his hands small, delicate, and uncalloused. Panic surged as he scrambled to the edge of the bed. His feet landed on the plush rug, and he stumbled toward a large gilded mirror near the wall.
The reflection staring back at him wasn't his own. Instead of the lanky 17-year-old he knew, he saw a boy no older than ten. Soft brown hair framed a cherubic face, and his wide blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and innocence. A faint mark shaped like a crescent moon adorned his left cheek, glowing faintly in the light.
"This... isn't real," Haru whispered, his voice trembling.
The maid stepped closer, concern etched on her face. "Your Highness, are you feeling unwell? Shall I fetch His Majesty?"
Haru turned to her, questions swirling in his mind. "His Majesty? Who... who am I?"
The maid hesitated, her brow furrowing. "You are Prince Haru, fifth son of King Eryndor of Ravarn. You fell from the garden wall yesterday while playing. Perhaps the fall has clouded your memory?"
Prince Haru. Ravarn. A king. None of it made sense.
Haru staggered back to the bed, clutching his head. The memories of his death were vivid the truck, the crash, the darkness. Yet here he was, in a body that wasn't his, in a world that defied logic.
"This has to be a dream," he muttered.
But as he pinched his arm, the sharp pain confirmed the impossible truth.
The Weight of Reality
The maid's words faded into the background as Haru tried to piece together what had happened. His mind replayed his final moments the truck, the crash, the sensation of his soul being ripped from his body.
Somehow, he had died. That much he was certain of. But instead of moving on to whatever awaited beyond, he had awoken in this unfamiliar world, in this strange body.
"Your Highness," the maid said gently, interrupting his thoughts. "Would you like me to bring breakfast here, or will you join the royal family in the dining hall?"
Haru's stomach churned at the thought of meeting anyone else. He wasn't ready to face this so-called royal family, not when he didn't even know who he truly was.
"Here," he said quietly. "I'll eat here."
The maid nodded and curtsied. "As you wish, my prince. I shall return shortly."
As she left, Haru sank into the bed, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, confusion, and a flicker of excitement warred within him.
A gamer to his core, Haru had spent countless hours immersing himself in fantasy worlds filled with kings, warriors, and magic. But living in one? That was a different matter entirely.
"I need to figure this out," he whispered. "If I've been given a second chance... I won't waste it."
The faint glow of the mark on his cheek caught his eye in the mirror, and for a moment, he felt a strange sense of purpose.
Whatever this new world held, Haru was determined to uncover its secrets and his own.