Ethan opened his eyes to the sound of hammers, the crack of timber splitting, and the damp scent of clay. The last thing he remembered was screeching brakes and blinding headlights. Now, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling, rough, unfinished, poorly joined.
He tried to sit up. His muscles felt stiff, unfamiliar. The bed beneath him was little more than straw. Through a crooked window, he glimpsed a town or what remained of one. Muddy streets. Crumbling stone walls. Thin smoke curling from thatch roofs. Beyond it all, a cracked wall barely held back the wild forest, as if the land itself were reclaiming what man had built.
The door creaked. A girl stepped inside. She couldn't have been more than fifteen, yet her eyes held both wisdom and kindness. Her patched dress swayed as she bowed.
"Milord," she said softly. "The steward says you're to inspect the defenses today. The baron died last night… and they say you're the new lord."
Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?"
She frowned. "You hit your head again, didn't you?"
His mind spun. Who are you? Where am I? Which hospital is this? What happened to the little girl...
"What are you talking about?" she cut in, worry flickering in her gaze. "Is your fever acting up again?"
No, Ethan thought, a cold realization sinking in. This isn't just an accident.
As he shifted on the bed, his trained eyes scanned the warped beams above, the leaning foundation of the house, the chaotic sprawl beyond the door. It was a disaster.
But it was also… a blank canvas.
He rose slowly, brushing hay from his clothes. "Alright," he said at last. "Show me the town."
His thoughts raced. Figure out what's happening. Act along for now.
Outside, the air felt different, cleaner, warmer. The sun's golden light seemed almost too vivid. The ground felt lighter under his step, the sky a shade deeper than he remembered.
The girl introduced herself as Lina and led him down the muddy path. With every step, fragments of memory returned.
He was Ethan Cole, a modern-day architect and civil engineer. He had designed housing for storm-prone coasts, taught sustainable development, and lectured on urban planning. His last project, low-income housing for a floodplain, had been nearly finished when he decided to go out for a walk and he was struck by a car while trying to save a child.
And now… he was here.
"What kingdom is this?" he asked suddenly.
Lina glanced at him, puzzled. "You don't remember? This is the province of Ironwood. We're in Greyrest."
Greyrest. The name suited the faded town.
"And my family?"
"Your father, Lord Alric, the Baron of Greyrest, passed last night," Lina answered quietly. "Your mother died during the plague years ago. You have no siblings."
Ethan exhaled slowly. A barony on the brink of ruin. A world not his own. And yet, if he was truly its lord, he would not waste this chance.
As they walked, his reflection flickered in a cracked bronze mirror leaning against a wall. The face staring back made his stomach clench, pale, gaunt, with piercing hazel eyes, matted brown hair, and a frail frame draped in a stained nightshirt and tattered shawl. A sickly noble's body. Fragile… but resolute.
"What happened to me?" he asked softly.
Lina frowned at him. He quickly coughed, waving it off. "Never mind. Just a little foggy after the fall."
"So you really did fall," Lina murmured, her expression softening. "Your body grows weaker every day, my lord…"