Before reading please note that all of this are fictional.
=
The sound of barking dogs rings loudly in my ears. My neighbors' voices echo in my head, and the karaoke blaring near our house keeps playing deep into the night.
Tapping my fingers on the desk, I stare at the small screen full of lines and circles. I sigh, frustrated.
"Why can't I do it?"
Leaning back on the plastic chair, I rub my forehead as the heat outside seems to boil my thoughts.
My irritation grows—the noise doesn't stop. I glance around the room. On the wooden bed nearby lies a pillows with a pillowcase that still hasn't been washed. My siblings are yelling about their defeat in Mobile Legends, trash-talking something about "cancer" in the game.
"N-no... I'm just stressing myself out at this point,"
I mutter, standing up and pushing away the negative thoughts that threaten to consume me. I try to ignore the noise outside—at least subconsciously.
As I walk past my father, I saw him watching TV. Another news— highlighting about former President Rodrigo Duterte controversial arrest.
I throw a cold glance at the screen, then walk straight to the bathroom.
After a quick pee and brushing my teeth, I take a deep breath. deciding to sleep early despite the noise.
I'm been used to it anyway. Years of living like this have built up my tolerance.
Besides, Andrew Huberman once said that getting to sleep early improves brain development and cognitive performance.
And I also want to catch the morning sunrise specifically the sunlight.
With that thought, my mood lifts a little. For once, I'm thinking about my own growth—something I've ignored for the past fifteen years. As I walk to the bedroom, I smile sadly, recalling the years I wasted, numbing myself with games, social media, and porn.
It's a bitter truth I've come to accept—a painful awakening in this world that thrives on distraction, where attention is the new currency.
Before I know it, I'm in bed. I yawn, set my phone alarm for 6 a.m., and place it far from reach.
"Be quiet, you two. I'm going to sleep. If you were actually good at that game, you wouldn't be blaming your 'vovo.' teammates."
"Shut up! You're not even playing. You know nothing!"
"This isn't League of Legends. What do you even know?"
The brats snap back. I ignore their childish tantrum, closing my eyes, and focusing on my heartbeat. Slowly, the outside noise fades, replaced by the rhythm of my pulse. I empty my thoughts into silence, mimicking a meditative posture.
And then... I drift into sleep.
Ready to face whatever trials tomorrow's reality throws at me.
•
Something isn't right...
Moaning weakly.
My eyes dizzily open, but my vision is blurry... I feel fatigued... Blinking slowly, my sight clears, and I stare at my surroundings in confusion.
sitting up—this bed, or what is supposed to be my hard bed shared with my siblings, now feels strangely soft.
I stare at the bedroom I'm in...
"What's going on?"
Searching for my siblings, who should be beside me, I find myself alone in this strange, unfamiliar room.
The once familiar walls made of wood and stone are gone, now replaced by textures I believe to be concrete. The ceiling, which used to be yero, (corrugated iron) is now flat and smooth.
I keep looking around, confused and in disbelief, at the scenery that feels completely unknown to me.
"Is this a dream? Why does it seem so realistic?"
I mumble, glancing at the nearby window where the sunlight reflects off the glass.
"Huh, actually... speaking of dreams, this kind of reminds me of that Joe Rogan episode."
My thoughts drift toward that memory. Now that I think about it, what were they even talking about? Something related to drinking and the effects of alcohol on the human mind… something that explains drunk people's behavior.
As my mind oddly circles that topic, my eyes light up as I hear the click of a door unlocking in the room I'm in.
"Johnny, it's time to eat. Your mother is already at the dinner table."
A voice rings out as the door to this seemingly dreamlike room opens, revealing a woman dressed in a strange gray outfit with white fabric running from her neck down to her waist. She also wears a white bonnet — the kind that distinctly resembles what maids wear.
"What's the problem, Johnny? Are you alright?"
The woman, in some kind of maid outfit, frowned at my confused and disoriented expression.
Did she just speak in English? Shit… Is this because I've been listening to English speakers so much that now my dreams are literally in English? I mean, this is a great opportunity to use my English skills…
But why does this dream feel so absurd in some ways? I can feel myself breathing — my senses are active and awake.
"Johnny?"
The growing bubble of silence around me popped as the maid called out to me again, concern in her voice, using an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar name.
Oh, shit... Okay. Time to unleash everything I've learned from Vinh Giang come on Joshua.
"Ah, sorry, madam, but may I have the pleasure of knowing your name? (Low-pitch and pause) I'm a bit confused, you see, and much to my dismay, I don't seem to know where I am currently."
Flashing an innocent and friendly smile, I speak with genuine tone.
But the response I expected never came. Instead, the maid simply stared at me in bewilderment.
What's wrong? Is my smile weird? Wait — didn't I just hear my voice? Why does it sound strange?
The maid continued to stare at me, confused, while I began to feel something was very different.
Hold on...
My eyes widened. I slowly raised my palms into view, and a ludicrous yet pragmatic realization hit me. At the same time, I tried to feel the essence of myself — something both known and unknown.
The brown skin I've had for the past 19 years was gone.
What greeted me was a different color… a skin tone commonly seen in Europeans or North Americans.
White skin.
My jaw dropped as my eyes widened in disbelief. The maid's voice blurred beside me… my ears were ringing as the situation began to make sense.
This isn't some sort of dream.
I thought as my whole body trembled, frozen in place. The maid started acting restless, but I ignored her.
There's no other realistic explanation for this.
In short...
The door opened again, and a woman of unknown origin rushed up to me.
Did I just...?
The woman reached out to touch me. I flinched in fear, recoiling away from her… Her presence didn't matter — I was too distracted by my breathing, now rough and desperate.
Reinc—
The woman and the maid were both shocked at my behavior, but I didn't care. My thoughts kept circling the one conclusion I had reached.
Did I just get reincarnated?
My vision and body slowly lost strength as the two women panicked, desperately trying to help me.
But I didn't respond to their touch or their words as my eyes slowly closed and my hearing faded.
And just before everything went dark, I heard a click and a robotic voice:
["Mastery System Activation Process
function starting… 0.3%/100"]
Then my full consciousness disappeared.
.
.
.
[A/N: Seems like Joshua or Johnny's sudden collapse is lacking in description, right? Well, sorry—I'm not great at describing stuff. If you want a logical explanation for this kind of situation, it's called syncopation.]
•
My senses awaken. My consciousness returns—only to find myself paralyzed. My eyes shift as my vision scans the surroundings, only to realize I'm once again in a different environment.
'Now what?'
As full awareness floods back, I frantically search this white expanse, filled with strange, cloud-like forms.
'Where am I? What is this strange white place?'
Helpless in my paralyzed state, my options are few, leaving me painfully vulnerable.
'Is this heaven?'
The thought drifts through my mind as pale clouds drift past my view.
'Did I just die? But I did get reincarnated, right? Don't tell me I died from a panic attack or something?'
Bitterly, my gaze sweeps up and down, left and right—seeking anything beyond these white gases. To my dismay, I find nothing.
At this point, nervousness coils in my chest, and despair seeps into my thoughts as the unknown threatens everything I am.
'God damn it... Did I really die? Or am I dreaming and still at home? But that sensation... it felt so real.'
My thoughts spiral. A compulsive part of me wishes this were actually happening, not some delusional fantasy. Deep down, I know it's nothing but childish daydreaming.
'Who wouldn't be shaken by this?'
'Shut up, Joshua. You know this is just imagination—I don't need a reminder of your addiction to this exact made-up scenarios.'
I sigh; my negative side has fully awakened.
'Will you shut up, negative side? We're literally the same person, you idiot.'
'Yes, but I'm the one keeping us grounded. How many dreams have we had only to discover she's not real, huh?'
My thoughts freeze at that reminder of reality.
Right... how many times have I had this exact dream? Not twice, nor thrice, but countless times—and it always ends the same way.
Same, same but different.
'What am I even thinking?'
At this point... all of thi— pathetic...
Really?
Why do I keep feeding myself hope?
Reincarnation or isekai stories are full of bullshit. I didn't get hit by some typical truck-kun, nor I'm not a Japanese NEET who wasted potential because a girl broke their heart or bulling got the best upon them.
'That's hypocritical of you to say—we're not any better.'
'Shut up! I admit I wasted my whole damn childhood on nothing... But I accepted it on my own. Nobody else told me, and no fictional character made me realize my self-worth.'
.
.
.
My line of thought ceases—everything I've been thinking turns to blank as my head empties.
Engaging in negativity achieves nothing; building up hatred changes nothing.
Yet the elephant in the room remains unsolved.
How can I free myself from this paralyzed state?
I still wish to awaken and get the glimpse of
the early sunlight.
'step'
I hear a strange sound... I avert my attention, my gaze searching for its source.
'step'
What is that sound?
'step'
Huh—where is it coming from?
'step'
Wait, what's going on? Is this some nightmare?
'step'
Hold on—what is that?!
Through the swirling white clouds, my vision picks up a strange shadow: a small figure walking toward me.
'step'
Huh? Who is that?
As the shadow draws nearer, it resolves into a child's figure—a boy with pale skin and a foreign appearance.
'potanga ina sino tung batang to?'
'who the hell is this kid?'
The boy looks up directly at me, staring with a blank expression that makes my heart pound with dread.
'shit! I'm weak when it come with horrors.'
He continues to walk toward me, step by deliberate step, and my unease skyrockets.
Who wouldn't be frightened at this point, with the same boy staring at you so intently—his gaze piercing the very core of your soul, his emotionless face a silent threat.
It's as though he's saying:
I am a ghost, and I'm here to hunt you.
In the blink of an eye, the boy stands right in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine.
'Shitttt! Why can't I move or even speak?'
At that moment, every emotion converges into pure fear—fear of existence itself, of a reality created for this very purpose.
The boy stretches out his hand toward me, and my horror boils over.
'No!!! Please, shit!!! Noooo! I don't want to die!!! Please!!! Whoever you are—don't!!! Shit!!!'
My voice emerges, but my pleas go unheard as his hand draws closer.
Then... my head explodes with sensation; my vision shakes as nonsensical images and voices pour into my mind—strange fragments that don't make sense alone, but together coalesce into something...
A memory.
Then my vision fades again, but before it does, the boy whispers something I can barely hear:
"How…envies..."
•
--beep--
I hear another strange but familiar sound.
--beep--
My eyes slowly open to a white light bulb and a white ceiling above me.
--beep--
I'm still in bed? It's soft...
--beep--
My eyes widen as I scan my surroundings.
--beep--
But what greets me is a room unlike my home in the Philippines, unlike the bedroom from that dream, and unlike that white, horrifying place.
--beep--
This room looks distinctly like a hospital room, with strange equipment and an unfamiliar IV line attached to my wrist.
--beep--
Across the room sits the same woman who rushed to me in my dream. Her eyes are closed, her hair slightly disheveled, and her sleeping face stained with tears—yet she's still asleep.
--beep--
I stare at her, then at myself—bedridden in patient's clothing, my skin the same pale white.
--beep--
My thoughts falter as I look up to see an LCD screen:
[ "Mastery System Activation Process
64.8% / 100" ]
--beep--
I finally manage to say—
"Well shit..."
=
"I'm leaving this for a week, or maybe even months, to see if anyone reads it. If you find it interesting, feel free to share any recommendations or suggestions. I'm going to study this era and familiarize myself with it."