Chapter Text
[Recalibrating…]
…?
[Recalibrating…]
“Nngh…”
Mind in a daze, hands grab blindly for the blanket. There was none but the hems of her clothes to tug and pull.
…?
Did the blankets fall off the bed while she slept? It happened more often than not, as it happened with double-layering in this cold winter.
[Relicalibration failed. Recalibrating…]
Wake up.
The thought felt like an echo, lingering in her mind as it became incomprehensible with each loop. She struggled to focus; to turn, to lift her head, to even make a sound, but to no avail, the thought vanished.
Wake up.
No matter how hard she tried to grab it, it kept slipping away like fog.
“...”
[Low Energy Mode Activated!]
[Welcome, PLAYER: Remi, to Octopath Traveler 0 — Champions of the Continent. You have gained the divine favor of Aelfric the Flamebringer, God of Fire.]
In that moment, her half-awake state broke free.
What.
[The following ITEM(s) have been received!]
Ring of the Flamebringer (x1) has been automatically equipped!
No, wait—
[Will you accept, knowing that you will create a story all your own?]
Then, the reining fog dispersed, and Remi was allowed to gather herself. Slowly, she opened her eyes to a wooden ceiling, vision obscured by a blue tinge. Lilting birdsong reached her ears, gentle but faint in its melody.
As her vision cleared, she straightened and took a deep breath. The smell of old wood filled her nostrils. It was nothing like being in a shed, nor in a carpenter’s studio, but in a really, really old house.
This definitely wasn’t her room.
So, where… was she?
Her hands grasped her blanket. It was thin and fuzzy, scratchy against her skin. The material overstimulated her senses as it rubbed against her clothes, her skin. Static rippled from her hair. Remi’s dazed confusion, however, led her into compliance.
She looked around for anything of interest.
The bed she laid on was an off-colored white, yellowed from use. It was just like the blanket, if a bit rougher. Another bed lay beside it, empty but messily fixed. A wooden nightstand with drawers separated the two. Remi opened them, finding nothing but knick-knacks and crumpled paper that was coarse and yellow. The words on their pages looked foreign and unlike any language or cipher she had ever seen. There was a bookshelf that stood near the beds, next to a railing and stairs that went downward.
Remi’s bare feet touched down on wooden planks, creaking. Soft footfalls padded to the shelf, pulling out anything of interest. The contents of the books were akin to those of the paper in the nightstand, so she put them back, not wanting to waste her time on figuring out something she couldn’t solve.
She sighed, shoulders dropping an inch. Nothing made sense. It didn’t feel like a kidnapping, but nor did it feel like she was being imprisoned. She pinched her clothes; it wasn’t the pajamas she had changed into the night before.
“...”
Her vision took on a blue tinge once more. It draped over everything in the room like a veil of sunlight through windows. Then, it was gone. There one moment and gone in another. Remi rubbed her eyes. Just… the trick of the light. Nothing more, nothing less.
She nearly moved away when a black and red colored book caught her eye.
…There was a book on the nightstand that wasn’t there before.
Knees dipped into the bed as she reached over for the book. She examined it all around. It was bulky in her hands, but light underneath her touch. It felt… Well, like a regular book. Nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t coarse, or yellow, not even the corners were dog-eared or wrinkled from use. Nothing felt out of place, and her paranoia wasn’t dialed up to the max. Remi felt at ease in a foreign place she had never set foot in.
In a moment’s hesitation, she took a big whiff of the book. She sighed dreamily. It smelled just right, like a new book right out of its cardboard shipping box. It was just as she liked it.
Even as relaxed as she was, she flipped through its pages, albeit keeping it as far away from her as possible.
Somehow, it felt like one of those clichée transmigration plots. Either one of those, ‘the protagonist is brought into the last novel they were reading before dying of ridiculous causes,’ or ‘the protagonist wakes up in the body of some random, low-level villain before they ruin the life of the hero.’
Remi neither died nor looked like any minor villain in anything she had ever read.
But, it never vanished her doubt; had she… been transmigrated?
Her eyes scoured the page she landed on, eyes flitting from left to right.
…While they walked, ████ suddenly raised his free hand and pressed his palm down, halting everyone more than ten meters from the warehouse door…
She reeled back. It was in English. Hm. Remi found herself returning to the bookshelf and pulled out a book to compare the two.
Two books sat bare in front of her. There was a pause. It was only a book, wasn’t it? But…
Remi inhaled, then exhaled, and closed her eyes—shut tightly. Inhaled, and then exhaled, and repeated these same motions until she could open her eyes again.
A sudden draft passed over her, making her shiver. Somehow, Remi felt like melting on the spot.
Robotically, Remi closed the black and red colored book. She put the unrecognizable one back where it came from.
None of it calmed her nerves.
…of all things in her current possession, it had to be this? Not her wallet, not her keys, not even her phone, but a physical copy of a web novel she bought a day before? That’s it?
[??? has offset some of your shock!]
No, absolutely not.
Remi turned away, hoping it’d go away.
The draping blue veil returned, and in a flash of light, her ears began to ring. Her head pounded.
[ERROR — Low Energy Mode — Shutting Off]
“Nngh…”
Footsteps thudded against wood, creaking as they climbed up the steps. Humming accompanied the owner’s climb up the steps. To her.
Remi stilled. She backed away from the stairs, letting the back of her knees hit the bed. Instead of bouncing her back, the bed made a faint thud, the force knocking her brain against her skull.
“...Ah, you’re finally awake—” A gasp. “Is something the matter?!”
Under Remi’s half-lidded stare, she saw a wheat-haired woman peering down at her worriedly.
She sprang up to her feet, but before she could fully straighten her legs, another throbbing headache overwhelmed her.
“Hey, hey…” Hands try to push her down gently. They retract and move down to her legs, maneuvering her. Remi’s head hit the pillow. The wheat-haired woman sighed. “You’ve been sick in bed for a few days, but you don’t need to push yourself to get better, Ananta. Your father and brother, and I, worry for you, you know.”
Father? Brother? Remi reeled from the sudden information. Remi knew she was an only child, but the realization of her sudden predicament hit her like a whiplash.
Transmigration. An Isekai.
She found it hard to accept everything at face value, but with everything happening all at once…
Remi thought of the novel that was left on the nightstand—the only piece of modern literature she had with her.
…Could it be—no. It can’t be. Nothing here screams steampunk or magical, divine fantasy. What did that… Oh, fuck, that was a System, wasn’t it?
Remi took a few, subtle deep breaths to suppress her panic. Pain seared through her body as it rattled with each breath, struggling to compose itself. This body was sick before Remi came, wasn’t it? Was that why she felt so tired? Even attempting to stand exerted her, now.
…Was the System responsible for this? Or was it suppressing it? But why?
“...”
“Ananta?”
She lifted her head. Is that my—this body’s name?
“...’ead ‘urts.”
“Your head hurts?” Shuffle. A calloused hand pressed against her forehead. “Anything else?”
I woke up in your kid’s body and I have no idea how to return to my life to give them back to you.
I hope this is a dream.
“...Hungry.”
The wheat-haired woman—Ananta’s mother—stifled a laugh. The hand pressed against her forehead was removed. “At least you have no fever anymore, but you’re not out of the gate just yet. Now, come downstairs and eat a little bit. Your father and your brother are already outside, so you’d better hurry up if you want to catch up to them.”
Remi lifted her head, bleary-eyed. The pain in her head was only but a prickle of pins and needles. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Since you’re still recovering, I think you know your own limits to not follow your brother… Well, maybe not.” Like a little joke known only to herself, Ananta’s mother laughed before shaking her head. Remi couldn’t help but compare the sound of her laughter to windchimes singing in a gentle breeze.
“Try to get up, now. It’s not healthy to stay in bed all day.” Ananta’s mother smiled at Remi. “Remember not to push yourself again, okay?”
She closed her eyes, nodding. Quietly, “I won’t.”
And the wheat-haired woman left, gliding down the stairs with an ease that Remi couldn’t help but feel envious of at the moment.
She had a lot to think about.