2 Chapter 2: Unexpected discovery(Edited)

[Rohan POV]

After reading the hologram, it disappeared, and I just stared at the ceiling, trying to understand what I saw. Maybe it was all just a hallucination? But it felt real too real, the plane, the fall, the pain. So maybe the hologram was true too. The more I thought about it, the faster I breathed, causing my chest to hurt. I had to calm down.

Once I was calm, I looked around. I couldn't move my head or body, but I could feel them. I was in a bed in a white room with medical equipment on both sides. There was a door on the left and a big window on the right. Through the window, I could see buildings and people, but all seemed unfamiliar. I figured I must be in a different country, probably in a hospital.

The rational side of me quickly concluded that the plane must have crashed or somthing and I somehow survived. All the things I saw must have been because of the medicine they gave me for the pain. This calmed me greatly, a reasonable conclusion.

I contemplated what I needed to do now. I could not speak at the moment as my jaw was locked, so I decided that the first priority was to recover. All I could do now was observe and gather as much information as I could. Then I could think about what to do later. After some time, a doctor came into my cabin, and when he saw me looking at him, he seemed very happy.

As the doctor approached me, he exclaimed, "You're awake! It's a miracle!" He quickly checked my vitals and assured me, "I'll contact your family to share the good news. Don't worry, you'll be alright." With that, he left the room.

I couldn't help but think, "What family? Maybe my aunts? But they'd probably prefer me dead." My jaws were bound with bandages, preventing me from asking any questions. After about 10 minutes, a woman in her 20s entered. She had blue eyes and blond hair. As she saw me, her eyes welled up with tears, and she started to cry. I was silently grateful that I couldn't speak. Perhaps she mistook me for someone else... How do I even explain this? It felt awkward.

"I'm so happy you're finally awake. It's truly a miracle. The doctor had no idea when you'd wake up," she said, sitting near me and studying me for a few seconds, lost in thought.

Wait a minute, how does she know my name? What's going on? Oh, maybe it's because I have the same name as the person she's searching for.

She sighed and continued, wiping her tears, "I don't know how much you remember, but last night, all of you were in an accident. When you were brought to the hospital, your parents had already passed away, and you were in critical condition. The doctors didn't hold much hope, but you survived. I'm sure your parents would be relieved to see you make it."

She paused, biting her lip, as if struggling to say something more. "Look, um... you need to rest and recover. I'll come back later to see you." With that, she got up and left the room.

Once again, I was alone, trying to make sense of what she had told me. "There must be something she wanted to say but couldn't... Oh well, Elena will tell me when she's ready—"

Suddenly, I realized what I had just said. "Wait, what did I just say? Is that her name? How do I know it?" A headache began to throb, and the computer alarm started blaring. A nurse rushed in, but I was already losing consciousness.

In the darkness, a flood of memories overwhelmed me. They were new but not my own—memories of a different family and a new life, a happy one. When I woke up again, I knew something extraordinary had happened. I had been transported to a new world with a new life. The heartbreaking realization was that I now understood why I was in the hospital. I "remembered" being in a car accident, and it seemed likely that my new parents had perished. Fate could be so cruel, living two lives only to lose my parents in the same tragic way.

===

Over the past nine weeks, I've been living in the hospital, slowly coming to terms with the fact that I've landed in a different world. It's a strange mix of reality and a dream. Through reading newspapers, I discovered that it's the year 1982. At first, I thought I had traveled to the past, but it turns out the world is different here. The world leaders and famous people are not the same, but the overall history is somewhat similar to what I know.

Now, I can access all the memories stored in this body. They are mostly fragments, but they have helped resolve some issues. My accent is no longer a problem, and I've learned a lot about my new family. In this world, I go by the name Rohan Williams, and I'm six years old. It has taken some adjustment to be a child again. It's still a mystery why my name is similar to my old one when my family, or rather my adopted family, is white. Anyway, back in 1976, I was adopted by Irene and Jacob Williams. I have a younger brother named Christopher Williams, who is just two years old. The blonde lady I met that day was Elena, my aunt and Irene's younger sister. The day I woke up, a truck lost control and crashed into our car. That's all I can remember.

Today is a significant day for me because they are going to remove my casts and assess if I can walk properly. If everything checks out, I will finally be discharged from the hospital. It may not seem like a big deal, but it means a lot to me. It means I can finally leave this hospital and move forward.

After lunch, I was taken to the therapy room, where I saw other patients practicing walking with supports. It took about an hour to carefully remove all the casts and bandages, followed by another hour of thorough examination. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off me. Following the doctor's instructions, I slowly attempted to stand up. My legs were trembling, but I held onto the supports and took my first steps. I could only manage a few before stumbling and falling. But with more tries, I gradually improved. Finally, the doctor declared that I was ready to go home. Although I'll still need therapy for at least three more weeks, this is a major milestone in my recovery.

After an eventful day, Aunt Ela, or Elena, came in the evening, radiating happiness. She remarked on my readiness to go home and mentioned that my brother, Christopher, was eagerly waiting for my return. I had specifically asked Elena not to bring him to the hospital because I wasn't sure how to handle the situation. With only glimpses of memories from this new life, it was challenging to treat people I barely knew as family. It was one thing to pretend in front of an adult, but it felt different with a child. I worried that he might sense something was wrong.

Lost in thought, I accompanied the nurse to change into my clothes. Sometimes I forgot that I was just a child and needed assistance with even the simplest tasks. The nurses had been incredibly helpful during my time in the hospital, providing me with newspapers and answering my questions.

Once dressed, I met Aunt Ela, and we began our journey home. There was an awkward silence in the car, with neither of us knowing what to say. I occupied myself by observing the city, which appeared almost identical to my world, with familiar landmarks. The car ride took about two hours, and as we arrived at the house, nervousness started creeping in. It was because of my newfound brother. I wondered if he, too, had been transmigrated like me. His survival in the accident without a scratch raised suspicion. I needed to find a way to confirm it, just in case.

Upon entering the house, I saw a young boy with blond hair and blue eyes sitting on the sofa, engrossed in drawing something. When he noticed me, his eyes sparkled with excitement, and he sprinted toward me.

"Bruther! You're back! Where are mommy and daddy? Aunty said they are in a faraway place and cannot come back," he complained.

I glanced at Elena, who quickly fled the room. I signed, frustrated with her for burdening a six-year-old with such a heavy truth. I had been so preoccupied with the possibility of him also being a transmigrant that I overlooked the obvious: he was just a child. I had made a mistake, and now I had to explain to him that his parents were gone.

Avoiding his gaze, I put on a confident face and began, "Well, um... you see... Mommy and Daddy are dead, so they cannot come back."

Curiosity and confusion filled his eyes as he asked, "What is dead? What happened to them?"

I couldn't bear to keep looking at him, but I maintained a reassuring tone. "You see, when people are dead, they become stars in the sky. They are very far away, so they cannot come to us, but they can always see us from the sky."

He continued to stare at me, his eyes welling up with tears. I continued, trying to comfort him, "Don't cry. Remember, they can always see us. Do you think they would like to see you crying? No! They always wanted us to be happy. And don't forget, I came back, didn't I? You are not alone."

Eventually, Christopher calmed down, and we celebrated my return with a good dinner. Thankfully, I didn't have to talk too much. After dinner, Elena took Christopher to bed. Normally, we shared a room, but for now, I would be sleeping alone. They would be sleeping in the adjacent room. After tucking Christopher in, Elena escorted me to my room. It was a small space with two small beds. She bid me goodnight, turned off the lights, and left the room.

Once alone, I switched on the side lamp and got out of bed. There was something that Aunt

Ela had mentioned before leaving the room that piqued my curiosity. It was a box on the desk next to me, containing my belongings. I could have waited until morning to explore it, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn't sleep.

I carefully opened the box, expecting to find old toys or other items. However, what I discovered left me stunned. Inside the box was a ring, and not just any ring—it was MY ring, the one given to me by my grandmother years ago. I was wearing it on the day of my flight. How could this be? I was certain it had my name engraved on it.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ring in disbelief. I remembered it as if it were yesterday. The holographic screen clearly stated that I had died and been reborn in this new world. But how was the ring here?

An idea struck me. I rose from the bed and stood in front of the mirror. As I looked at my reflection, I saw my young face. Until now, I had assumed that I had reincarnated with the same face and body, so I never questioned why I had my old appearance. But now I was suspicious.

With a sense of urgency, I removed my shirt and examined my body. I noticed several scars scattered across my skin, and most of them still stung when touched. Ignoring the pain, I focused on my arm. And there it was—a scar from an accident I had when I was 12. A birthmark could reappear after being reborn, but a scar from an accident seemed impossible. This proved that I hadn't died.

I tried to recall what had happened to me back then. I remembered falling and the sensation of rapidly aging, but I also recalled a brief moment of becoming young again. If my theory was correct, I must have fallen into this world as a baby. By the time I arrived, my clothes had rotted away, but the ring remained. And that's how I named myself in this new world. But why would the holographic screen lie to me? Was it meant to scare me? And if so, why? The more I tried to understand it, the less it seemed to make sense. I pondered over it until sleep finally overcame me.