Elias Varn had always been obsessed with knowledge. Since childhood, he read every book he could find—not just fiction but also psychology, neuroscience, medicine, history, physics, chemistry, biology, geography, economics, and languages. But what interested him the most was psychology and neuroscience. He wanted to understand people—how they thought, how they could be controlled. Lying came naturally to him. He lied to his friends, teachers, and even his parents countless times. He used emotional manipulation to get what he wanted and scammed many people during his school years without feeling any guilt. Lying became second nature to him—he did it so often and so smoothly that he never showed any emotion while doing it.However, he came from a middle-class family, and after high school, he needed to find a job. But he wasn't good at anything except reading books like a bookworm. His parents became worried about his future and pressured him to focus on real studies instead of manga and other unrelated books.Under family pressure, he chose to study physics—his second favorite subject after psychology. He was fascinated by the mysteries of the universe and wanted to understand the forces that controlled reality. After years of study, he became an astrophysicist, specializing in gravity, dark matter, dark energy, black holes, wormholes, and the elusive graviton.—One late night, Elias sat in his dimly lit lab, staring at the data on his screen. His assistant, Arjun, entered, rubbing his eyes."You're still at this?" Arjun sighed. "You haven't slept in days.""Sleep is a waste of time when you're on the verge of something revolutionary," Elias muttered, his fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard.Arjun frowned. "You keep saying that, but what exactly are you trying to prove?""That gravity isn't just a force—it's a tool. If controlled properly, it could bend space-time itself," Elias said, his eyes filled with intensity."You mean... wormholes?""Maybe. But more importantly, what if I could tear through the fabric of reality?" he whispered.Arjun hesitated. "This sounds dangerous.""All great discoveries are."Determined, Elias pushed forward with his final experiment. Using his theoretical Ultra-Condensed Graviton Stimulation (UCGS), he successfully condensed graviton particles to an unprecedented level. But the energy output spiraled beyond control.Alarms blared."Sir, the gravitational field is collapsing!" Arjun shouted."I know!" Elias frantically input commands, but it was too late. The graviton mass had reached a critical threshold.In an instant, an artificial black hole formed at the center of the lab. The pull was immense."Damn it!" Elias cursed as the force dragged him in.Then, silence.The black hole collapsed in on itself, leaving no trace of Dr. Elias Varn.—When he opened his eyes with a sharp, desperate gasp, his lungs burning as if he had been drowning. His entire body convulsed, muscles seizing as he clawed at the ground beneath him. The air was thick—too thick. It filled his chest with an unfamiliar heaviness, tinged with an aroma he couldn't place. It wasn't the sterile, filtered air of his lab. It smelled richer, more organic, laced with something metallic and faintly floral.Panic flickered in his chest, but his scientist's mind overrode it. He forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths, trying to analyze his surroundings. The temperature was different—not the cool, artificial climate control he was used to, but something else entirely. Warmer, humid, yet not stifling. His skin prickled as a breeze passed over him, unfamiliar and unplaceable.He pushed himself upright, and that was when he felt it—his body was wrong. His limbs felt off, heavier in some places, lighter in others. His muscles responded differently, and his balance was subtly unnatural. His fingers twitched, and as he lifted his hands to inspect them, he froze.They weren't his hands.His breath hitched as he flexed his fingers, observing the slight variations—longer than he remembered, the nails slightly curved, the skin unfamiliar. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, but even that felt different. The rhythm, the force, the very essence of his body—none of it matched what he had known his entire life.Then he noticed the silence.No hum of machinery. No distant murmur of traffic. No electrical buzz. Nothing.Instead, the world was filled with an alien symphony—rustling leaves, distant voices speaking in a tongue he didn't recognize, the faint calls of creatures he had never heard before. His head snapped up, his breath catching in his throat.His mind spiraled, grasping for an explanation. He squeezed his eyes shut.Hallucination. Oxygen deprivation. Stress-induced psychosis.Yet the air filled his lungs. His body ached. The dirt beneath his hands was coarse, real. Trembling, he grabbed a small rock from the ground and pressed it against his palm, feeling its jagged edges bite into his skin. Without thinking, he brought it to his lips and tasted the rough mineral tang.Real.His reflection—he needed to see himself. If this was a delusion, a breakdown of his mind, his face should still be his own. He staggered forward, driven by raw instinct, until he found a still pool of water between the roots of a massive, gnarled tree. He knelt, heart hammering as he leaned over.A stranger stared back at him.Dark hair—longer than his had ever been. Eyes—sharper, more piercing, a shade of icy silver that practically glowed. His face was sharper, more angular, aristocratic in a way that was both foreign and strangely fitting. He lifted a trembling hand to his cheek, and the reflection did the same.A shudder ran down his spine.No. No, this isn't real. This can't be real.Yet every fiber of his being screamed that it was.He clenched his fists, forcing his breathing to slow, his mind racing through possibilities.Simulated consciousness? No. Too consistent, no sensory distortion.Quantum entanglement? Maybe. Unlikely.Parallel universe? A dream? A coma?He needed more data. If this was real, physics should behave as expected. He dropped the rock he was holding, watching the way it fell. Gravity seemed normal. He pressed his palm against the ground, noting the texture, the pressure, the sheer tactile reality of it all.He could still recall equations, scientific principles, everything from his past life. His life. His knowledge, his habits, his memories—they were intact. But this body was not his.