He entered the house and leaned against the door for a moment before carefully turning the key to lock it. His siblings and mother were sleeping peacefully in their rooms, and he paused briefly to make sure everything was quiet. He took a deep breath and walked toward the bathroom. He switched on the light, washed his face, and then stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection carefully.
He was 1.85 meters tall. His short, messy blond hair revealed his forehead and emphasized the intensity of his gray eyes. His physique was solid, with broad shoulders and a strong back; not overly muscular, but firm and well-proportioned. He had an attractive face with defined features, and his serious expression commanded respect.
As he stared, reality hit him again: he had died once. And now he was here, in a nineteen-year-old body, in a world that was not his own. He had been in this strange place for only a month, and each day reminded him of how different everything was.
In his previous life, he was called Robert Tucker, and he was also nineteen. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father, an alcoholic, constantly blamed him for it, taking out his frustrations on him. The blows were frequent and harsh: punches to the torso, shoves that made him fall, kicks if he disobeyed or made a mistake, and bruises that sometimes lasted weeks. His arms and back always bore scars and marks, permanent reminders of his father's violence and anger.
When he turned fourteen, his father died, and Robert moved in with his grandmother. There, he began training in MMA. He discovered that he loved fighting. Every training session was an adrenaline rush; every punch, dodge, and movement thrilled him. His determination, endurance, and calmness during fights made him stand out quickly. His reputation grew among peers and in local tournaments, earning respect for his skill and discipline.
He had a promising career ahead, but he died unexpectedly just before his professional debut. At first, he hadn't thought much of a poorly landed blow during training, but as he made his way home, a sudden dizziness struck him. Before he could react, his body collapsed in front of his house's door.
Now he found himself in the body of Bradley Allen, the eldest of three siblings. His mother worked long hours to support the family, and his father, a compulsive gambler, had committed suicide the previous year, leaving behind debts and problems with dangerous lenders that still haunted the family. Bradley was a young man with responsibilities, used to taking care of his younger siblings, and life had not been easy for him either.
This new world was called Aeloria. The city where Bradley lived was Virelia, one of the largest in the Republic of Elyndra, one of the most developed countries in the world. Earth and Aeloria were quite similar in technology, civil infrastructure, and society's functioning. The differences were subtle, but there were details that made this world feel strange, dangerous, and fascinating at the same time.
What truly set Aeloria apart was what had happened three hundred years ago: hundreds of cracks, known as Celestas, had opened across the planet. Hostile creatures emerged from them, causing massive destruction. Millions died in the first waves of attacks, and the world was left scarred by the disaster.
Faced with such magnitude, the countries that had once competed with each other formed alliances to coordinate armies and contain the losses. From that cooperation arose new political entities: the Republic of Elyndra and other nations created out of the need to maintain unity and survive against global threats.
During that same period, the first Transformers appeared: individuals capable of taking monstrous forms to face the creatures on equal terms. Their intervention, along with organized military efforts, managed to contain the expansion of the Celestas and protect humanity from extinction
Three centuries later, humanity had rebuilt its cities and reorganized its way of life. The scars of the Celestas remained visible in both geography and collective memory, but society had adapted to their existence. Transformers were still deployed strategically where their powers were most needed, defining security, politics, and the structure of power in Aeloria.
Even so, the Celestas continued to appear from time to time, reminding everyone that danger never truly disappeared. Each open crack was a reminder that this world, though similar to the one Robert had known, was full of unexpected threats and challenges that required strength, cunning, and courage to survive.
Bradley—or Robert, by his real name—shivered as he looked at his reflection one last time before leaving the bathroom. He turned and walked to his bedroom, feeling the weight of the day, and lay down on his bed to sleep, letting exhaustion take over.