Awakening in a Known Unknown [1]

Opening his eyes, Quill was greeted by an intense, uncomfortable light piercing through the remnants of sleep clinging to his eyelids.

Rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times, his vision gradually cleared, the haze lifting slowly. Above him, he saw the source of the light—a small chandelier, its crystals casting an almost ethereal glow across the room.

A small chandelier.

A small chandelier...?

His brain slowly registered that this was definitely not a fixture in his room. Neither was the bed he was lying on nor the opulent, noble-looking blanket draped over him.

Finally, as he looked around, Quill's groggy mind realized he was definitely not in his own room.

"What the..."

Everything around him exuded an aura of nobility, even more so than he was accustomed to.

Quill knew his living standards were far from humble, but this room exceeded even his own. It wasn't just more luxurious; it was also significantly more modern.

Stepping out of the bed, he began to notice a pattern. The room was a unique blend of high-tech and Victorian style.

The bed had an intricately carved Victorian design, crafted from dark mahogany wood with ornate details, which starkly contrasted with the large, transparent flatscreen next to it, displaying various holographic interfaces.

"...Just where am I?"

As Quill walked around, taking in the lavish surroundings, another realization struck him.

...Was he taller?

He checked his body and immediately noticed it was well-built, with defined and toned muscles. This was definitely not the same physique he had when he went to bed.

"...Is this a dream?" He pinched himself, the sharp sting dispelling that notion. "Then... not a dream."

He needed to confirm his thoughts, prompting him to search the room more thoroughly. The opulence was overwhelming—silk drapes, gold-trimmed furniture, and advanced technology seamlessly integrated into the classic decor.

The room was enormous, with numerous doors leading to different parts. It felt more like a small palace chamber than a typical bedroom.

'All this space but no mirror?'

He opened each door, discovering wardrobes filled with luxurious clothes and accessories.

Finally, he found a bathroom. The bathroom was stunning, adorned with marble and gold accents, so much so that Quill was tempted to simply use it.

The fixtures gleamed under the soft lighting, and the entire space felt more like a spa than a bathroom.

But that was secondary.

He approached what he thought was a mirror but instead found a black screen. Curious, he touched it, thinking it might function like a touchscreen. To his surprise, it did.

The black screen transformed into a reflective surface, revealing a mirror. And...

He was greeted with something unexpected: his own face.

Well, calling it his own face would be a stretch. It wasn't entirely the face he knew.

His eye color had turned a brilliant red, perfectly matching his new pitch-black hair.

"...What?" he muttered, clearly confused. It was disorienting to see himself, albeit with some changes.

Quill had anticipated seeing a stranger's face based on all the isekai and transmigration novels he had read.

But no. It was still his face, handsomely so, but a modified version.

He watched as his eyes moved, his new red irises glowing with an otherworldly light.

"..."

These eyes were simply... mesmerizing. They had a depth and intensity that was captivating.

"Wow," he breathed, shaking his head. "Focus," he muttered to himself. "Figure out where you are and what's happening."

Returning to the bedroom, Quill sat on the beautifully crafted wooden bed. The intricate carvings and rich mahogany finish spoke of luxury. The mattress, soft yet supportive, invited him to sink into its comfort.

He looked around the room again, noting its distinct design. A wave of familiarity washed over him.

Combining this with his reflection in the mirror—those unnaturally red, glowing eyes—Quill was puzzled. H

e had never heard of anyone having red eyes, at least not naturally. Yet somehow, it all seemed familiar...

As if he had read about it somewhere...

Multiple times...

"..."

His brain raced. 'Wait... It couldn't be... Is thi—'

"QUILL!"

Before Quill could finish his thought, a deep growling voice interrupted him, reverberating through the room with such intensity that it felt as though the very walls were trembling.

"Oh, what the f—" He was startled by the sudden shout but couldn't finish his sentence.

"QUILL, GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR OR I'LL DRAG YOU OUT MYSELF!"

The rough voice came from outside the door, sounding like an older male—gruff, commanding, and aggressive, with a tone that brooked no nonsense.

"Quill? Who the heck is Quill?" Though he asked aloud, the answer was already forming in his mind. "...Am I Quill?"

The high-tech Victorian design, the sense of familiarity—it all started to click into place. This had to be...

Just as he finally realized where he was, a sudden blue window materialized in front of him, shimmering in the air.

"Oh, what the hell?!"

Though Quill wasn't the jumpy type, the sudden appearance of the blue glowing window took him by surprise.

The blue screen floated persistently in front of him, its light casting an eerie glow across the room.

Everything felt surreal, but humanity's greatest ability is adaptability.

Quill had read that in one of his psychology books while studying. He was a bit weirded out by how well he was taking everything.

But then again, everything happened so fast—maybe after a moment of complete silence, the weight would fall upon him.

His attention returned to the familiar blue shining window.

As familiar as it could get after reading about the infamous blue window screen popping up in countless novels. The only thing as common was probably the sarcastic mention of the "blue window."

He started to read through it.

[ Age: 18

Character: Quill Nocturne

Ability: Master of Thread Grade 1

= You are able to control cotton thread to your will, earning the title of Master of Thread.

Traits: = None (Please choose three)

Affinity: = As cold as your soul is, so too is your hand. Ice will be your companion. ]

"This... so I truly am..."

It didn't take a genius to understand that he was indeed trapped in his favorite novel, The Purple-Eyed Prince.

This was the silent moment, the moment when the heavy realization finally struck.

Taking deep breaths, Quill tried to organize his racing thoughts. The blue window flickered impatiently, waiting for him to make a move.

But something was off.

After accepting where he was, everything became even more familiar—everything but this blue window.

"Was there ever mention of a status window like this?"

There wasn't, he was sure of it.

In fact, everything listed here was not shown in the novel. The characters didn't have named abilities or predefined titles.

'Choosing traits? ...Was that even a thing?'

His heart raced as he struggled to remember. If he couldn't recall such an important detail, it probably meant it was new.

The blue window itself was new.

Though characters had traits, they gained them through experience, training, or simply by blood—not through a scenario of pick and choose.

He took another deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm.

'Questioning everything wouldn't do me any good.'

"Quill Nocturne..." he murmured, trying to recall if he had ever heard the name.

'There was no character named Quill in the story.'

He was certain.

Not a main character, not a side character. Not even a fleeting mention.

It seemed impossible, especially because of the family name Nocturne.

The Nocturnes were a prominent family in this universe, their involvement always dramatic and impactful.

They weren't inherently good or evil; they acted in their own best interest, sometimes aiding the protagonist, sometimes opposing him.

That's why seeing an unfamiliar name tied to such a notable family was perplexing. A Nocturne—he would have remembered.

'Does this mean I'm a newly created character? ...No, I shouldn't jump to conclusions yet.'

Quill shook his head, taking deep breaths, trying to piece together the fragmented clues. 'If I am truly part of this world now, what role do I have to play?'

The blue window still floated before him, its light unwavering, patiently waiting for his next move.

"Alright," Quill whispered to himself, "let's figure this out."

His fiery red eyes locked onto the list of traits. "Choose three...?"

As soon as the words left his lips, the blue window shifted, unveiling a gallery of titles and icons.

They were arranged in rows, divided by grades. This system was entirely alien to the novel's world. Most of the icons were grayed out, directing his focus to the only vibrant row.

'Grade E, huh.'

[ - Cleaner

- Sociopath

- Charmeur

- Fatmachine ]

Dozens of options, each with a title. Simply staring at them wouldn't suffice, so he clicked on one.

[ - Sociopath ]

Upon selecting the icon, a description appeared along with another window asking, [ Are you sure? ]

Ignoring the confirmation window, he focused on the text.

[ = Who needs feelings if the only thing you need is a clear mind? You will be stripped of the human understanding of certain emotions, making you act more rationally and logically at the cost of your empathy. ]

'This—this is crazy.'

Could something like this really be possible? Did it mean that with a simple touch of his finger on the confirmation button he would become a different person in mere seconds?

Without hesitation, Quill touched the 'No' option. He didn't even want to risk accidentally confirming the choice.

In retrospect, he was relieved there was a confirmation step. The thought of acquiring such a trait instantly was terrifying.

As Quill scanned the options in the Grade E area, he carefully considered which traits would serve him best.

He could only choose three traits, so he had to prioritize, sacrificing other options for now. With many more options and rows to unlock, he was sure he would have other opportunities.

He reviewed the selected traits once more before confirming them for good.

[ The Intellectual One

= A bright-minded one, eh? Your ability to think and understand complicated scenarios and handle information well increases significantly.

Workaholic

= Who needs rest, am I right? The feeling of laziness is pushed aside by your need to be productive. However, your body and mind will need proper rest and care.

Insight

= What is the true meaning of insight? Your ability to understand situations and the behavior of others increases greatly. ]

Choosing these three traits was difficult due to the vast collection of options.

But if this was truly the world of The Purple-Eyed Prince, it meant a dangerous path lay ahead.

He had to adapt—something rather challenging for someone who had lived in peace and comfort his whole life, at least compared to others.

The most important traits weren't fighting skills or powers; those wouldn't amount to much without the proper mind and character.

Quill needed to act smart and learn fast.

He had to be able to read situations and respond accordingly. But most importantly, he couldn't allow himself to be lazy—not again. The trait "Workaholic" was probably the most crucial one for him.

Not long after confirming his choices, Quill felt different. "The Intellectual One" trait sharpened his mind, making him acutely aware of the danger he was in.

He was in an unfamiliar environment, even if he had knowledge about it.

Quill knew that power wasn't the ultimate factor in this world, though it was still significant. But still, this world wasn't like other fiction with unimaginable confrontations.

Just because someone was overpowered didn't mean they were invincible.

A good strategy could suffice. Humans were only humans, and the power levels didn't change that fact.

Quill sighed, recognizing that "plot armor" still existed even here.

Confronting any of the main cast wasn't wise. Not that he wanted to. If anything, he would support them because they were the necessary heroes of this world.

'...Well, if they even exist.'

Truth be told, there was no guarantee he would relive the story. He just assumed it.

But now multiple scenarios played in his head. What if this was some sort of prequel? Or even a sequel? What if—

*Bam*

The door burst open, revealing an imposing man with a build and posture akin to a grown bear. His hair was the same deep black as Quill's, and his eyes glowed with the same intense red hue.

His face was weathered with years of experience, lines etched deeply into his skin. A nasty scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his cheek, adding a menacing edge to his formidable presence.

"YOU STILL IN HERE? DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO MOVE IT?"

'...Is this Quill's father? Grandfather perhaps?'

This time Quill didn't flinch at the sudden interruption. Quite the opposite—he remained calm, already trying to solve the next puzzle even though the first one wasn't solved yet.

The calmness and the rather vacant look on his face irritated the bear-like man.

"YOU'VE FINALLY LOST IT, HAVEN'T YOU?" he shouted, storming towards Quill.

His powerful strides shook the floor with each step. Quill neither ran nor resisted; he simply let the man grab him and drag him out, the grip like iron on his shoulders.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming... Sir," Quill managed, trying to keep his voice steady despite the tight grip. "No need to break my shoulder...Sir."

The man's grip loosened slightly, but his scowl remained. "Move it, Brat. You don't have all day."

Quill nodded, letting himself be dragged along, his mind racing. '

As they moved through the lavish halls, Quill couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and dread.

This world was real now, with real dangers and real stakes.

He had to be smart, he had to adapt, and most importantly, he had to survive.