Chapter 2: Hell Mode
Sunlight filtered gently through the windowpanes, casting a warm glow across the room. A boy lay beneath his duvet, peacefully asleep. Suddenly, a subtle twitch flickered across his eyelids.
Without warning, he eased himself upward from the bed, transitioning smoothly into a seated position. His eyes remained closed as he stretched languidly, still caught in the haze between sleep and wakefulness.
"A nice stretch," the boy murmured, his eyes fluttering open as the room slowly came into focus. Yet, he remained still, seated in stunned silence, a wave of confusion washing over him.
"How did I get here?" he whispered, his voice barely steady. Then, abruptly, he faltered, uncertainty deepening in his gaze.
’What happened to my bass voice?’ he wondered, fingers instinctively brushing his throat. His eyes roamed the room, sharply taking in every detail, every shadowed corner, as if searching for answers.
’Is this the chamber of a king, or what?’ he wondered, eyes sweeping over the sumptuous surroundings. The bed was impossibly soft, the duvet plush and inviting. Ornate gold-framed paintings adorned the walls, and every piece of furniture spoke of exquisite luxury.
He lifted his hands, noticing how they appeared smaller than his original body, yet paradoxically stronger. His skin felt unnaturally smooth beneath his gaze.
"What on earth is happening?" he muttered, the unfamiliar voice emerging from his throat, laced with disbelief.
Ethan’s mind raced, cycling through every possible scenario that could explain his current predicament. This wasn’t how his days were supposed to begin.
His routine was simple, consistent: wake up, attend lectures, laugh and gossip with his girlfriend, then fall asleep with no worries in the world.
But then, a single, jarring thought struck him like lightning.