Transmigrated Into The True Heiress

The older guard took a slow breath before collecting and pressing a button on the communicator. A faint crackle filled the quiet air before a voice answered on the other end.

"This is base. Report."

"We’ve found a body," the guard said, keeping his voice steady despite the weight of the discovery pressing on his chest. "Need confirmation on identification."

A pause. Then, "Details?"

The guard exhaled, glancing down at the corpse once more. "Male. Mid-twenties. Patient uniform, but the insignia is unrecognizable. No signs of decay—body’s been preserved. Deep laceration to the temple. No ID on him." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "But if I didn’t know better... I’d say it looks like Alexander Carver."

Silence. The kind that stretched, heavy and unspoken, as the realization set in on both ends of the line.

Then, finally, the voice returned—quieter, but sharper. "Repeat that."

The guard’s grip on the communicator tightened. "I said the body looks like the dead Alexander Carver."

Another pause, this time laced with something colder. Then the voice on the other end exhaled, controlled but weighted.

"Secure the area. Do not let anyone near that body until I arrive."

"Yes, sir."