Austin, Texas.
The outskirts of the city.
Morning light crept through the curtained windows, casting a dim glow across the bedroom.
On the large bed lay a boy of about thirteen, still deep in sleep.
The sunlight filtering through the window seemed to bother him; his eyelids twitched, and he unconsciously turned his head away from the window.
Ding—!
Just as he shifted, the cat‑faced alarm clock on his nightstand erupted in a shrill clatter, yanking him from his dreams.
Frowning slightly, he reached one arm out from under the covers and silenced the alarm with practiced ease before finally opening his tired, gritty eyes.
Rubbing his face, he sat up in one motion, stretched his arms wide with a satisfied groan that bordered on ridiculous, and let out a sound not unlike a constipated walrus.
He glanced at the clock.
Seven o’clock.
No point lingering.
He threw off the covers, slipped into his slippers, and padded into the bathroom to start his morning routine.
Grabbing his cup and toothbrush, he studied his reflection in the mirror, a clean‑featured, pleasant‑looking face staring back at him.
A small smirk tugged at his lips.
“Gotta admit, transmigration comes with perks,” he murmured to himself.
Yes, he was a reincarnator, someone who’d died in his previous life and woken up here.
It had been nearly a month since he’d arrived, and the initial disorientation had slowly given way to adaptation.
This world, he’d discovered, was remarkably similar to his old one in most ways.
Here, he was Brian.
His parents were rarely home due to work commitments, leaving the entire house to him and a live‑in housekeeper.
Which, honestly, was a blessing; it spared him the awkwardness of having to face unfamiliar parents the moment he woke up in this body.
All things considered, he had no complaints.
The crushing weight of his previous life, the mortgage, the car payments, the endless grind, was gone.
And more importantly, he’d been an orphan with no spouse or children back then, so he could embrace this second chance without any lingering guilt.
After freshening up, Brian shed his pajamas and pulled on his school uniform from the closet.
A quick once‑over, and he was out the door.
Downstairs, a middle‑aged woman was bustling about the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
The moment she heard footsteps on the stairs, she leaned back, poking her head out to spot Brian descending.
“Hey, you’re up early today!” Brian nodded at the half‑appearing figure.
“Morning, Josie.” “Go sit down at the table.
Breakfast is almost ready.” He crossed the living room and settled into a chair in the dining area, reaching for the newspaper left on the table.
Old habit, really; he didn’t have a phone yet.
But as his eyes scanned the headlines, his brow furrowed.
“Local Hospital Admissions Spike; Mysterious Infections Surge 300%” “FDA Reports More Contaminated Crops; Mass Recalls Expected” “Woman Arrested After Killing Husband and Three Others in Rampage” Something was off.
Ever since he’d arrived in this world, reports of strange infections and violent incidents had been climbing every single day.
He couldn’t shake the paranoid thought: had his arrival somehow triggered these changes?
“Your breakfast.
Eat it all, now.” Josie set the plate down in front of him before he could dwell further: eggs, donuts, hash browns, and a glass of milk.
The quintessential American breakfast.
He barely suppressed an eye‑roll.
He’d been here a month, but his stomach still hadn’t adapted to this relentless sugar overload.
He missed the simple, savory home‑cooked meals of his old life—the kind that actually filled you up instead of leaving you jittery.
Not that they were culinary masterpieces, but every morning here meant sugar bombs and calorie bombs, and his system was starting to rebel.
He forced down a few bites, then, seizing the moment when Josie turned away, grabbed his bag and bolted out the door, ignoring her calls from behind.
“Hey, Brian!” He’d barely pulled the front door shut when a familiar voice called out from beside him.
Turning, he spotted the girl from next door.
Her name was Sarah, a petite girl with a short bob of light blonde hair and a face that could only be described as adorable.
She’d been the first friend he made in this new world.
Well, to be fair, she’d also been his primary source of intel on his predecessor’s life and the neighborhood’s residents.
“Morning,” Brian said warmly as Sarah hurried over.
Behind her, however, stood a man with a square jaw, a thick beard, and an expression that suggested he’d just bitten into a lemon.
Joel, Sarah’s father.
He worked in construction, as Brian had gathered, though he’d never seen Mrs.
Joel around.
Divorce or death, most likely.
Joel stared at Brian like he was eyeing a stray dog that had wandered too close to his property.
Brian’s smile stiffened, but he managed a polite nod.
“Morning, Joel.” The man held his gaze for an uncomfortably long moment before giving a curt, dismissive tilt of his head and pulling out his phone.
Brian caught fragments of conversation, something about contractors and deadlines, as the man walked off.
Sarah had witnessed the entire exchange, one hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
She patted Brian’s shoulder and, when he turned, teased, “I don’t think my dad likes you very much.” “Really?” Brian deadpanned.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Brian and Sarah attended the same school, which provided a shuttle bus for students.
Since their neighborhood was on the outskirts, right near the highway interchange, safety protocols required them to gather at a designated stop.
The bus arrived on schedule; anyone who missed it had to arrange their own transportation.
“Morning, Jimmy!” “Morning, Cooper!” The walk to the stop was a cheerful one, with Sarah practically bouncing along the pavement, waving at every familiar face that passed.
“Hey, Brian.” Once they were alone again, Sarah leaned in conspiratorially.
“I’m planning to sneak out of school today and hit the mall.
You in?” Brian raised an eyebrow.
In the month he’d known her, Sarah had been nothing but a model student.
This was unexpected.
“Ms.
Judy would have a stroke if you pulled that.” “Only if she finds out.” Sarah had clearly planned this out.
She pulled a folded square of paper from her pocket and held it out to him.
“I swiped this from Ms.
Judy’s desk last week.
Take a look.” Brian unfolded it and immediately understood her confidence: [SCHOOL NAME] OFFICIAL NOTICE All faculty and staff are required to attend a mandatory meeting on September 6, 2013, at 1:00 PM in the Main Conference Room.
Your attendance is required.
Administration “You’ve been scheming this for a while, huh?” Brian waved the notice, genuinely impressed.
“So what’s at the mall that’s worth ditching class for?” “It’s my dad’s birthday.
I want to get him something nice.” Brian considered it.
“Alright, I’m in.
What time do we move?” “I’ll let you know.” The school bus ride took about half an hour, winding through the scenic outskirts that Brian had grown to appreciate.
Back in his old life, it had been nothing but concrete, steel, and glass; here, there was actual green, trees, fields, something alive.
They arrived at school to find teachers already stationed at the gate, waiting to shepherd their respective homerooms inside.
The education system here was vastly different from what Brian had known.
It was looser, more relaxed, almost no supervision.
He’d noticed that American schools seemed to prioritize creativity and individual thinking, a more elite‑driven approach, whereas his old education had focused on foundational knowledge and cognitive development.
Both had their merits; he wasn’t about to declare one superior.
The morning passed in that easy, carefree rhythm.
By lunchtime, Brian found himself in the cafeteria, staring at the offerings behind the glass: burgers and sandwiches.
His stomach groaned in protest, but skipping lunch wasn’t an option.
He’d just have to cook something extra tonight.
As he stepped out of the cafeteria, he noticed someone posting a new announcement on the bulletin board by the entrance.
Curious, he wandered over after the poster left.
The notice read: URGENT: SCHOOL CLOSURE NOTICE Due to the escalating infectious outbreak, the city of Austin will be entering a state of lockdown effective October 1st.
All schools will be closed indefinitely.
Students are to inform their parents and contact the following number with any questions: [XXXXXX].
Brian’s stomach tightened.
It’s gotten that bad?
Memories of a certain pandemic from his old life flickered through his mind.
He made a mental note: stock up on masks.
Immediately.
He turned to leave, and found himself hemmed in by a crowd of students, all buzzing with excitement.
A few were even cheering.
Cheering.
For a school closure.
Brian managed to squeeze out of the mob and headed back toward his classroom, until something jabbed him sharply in the ribs.
He stopped mid‑stride, glanced back, and found Sarah standing right behind him.
She caught his eye, pressed a finger to her lips, and mouthed a single word: “GO.”