His body was a testament to disciplined exertion, a sculpted masterpiece of sinew and strength. His shoulders, broad and commanding, tapered down to a waist that hinted at leanness, the subtle definition of muscles beneath taut skin visible with each movement. His arms, though not overly bulky, held a quiet power, the veins tracing intricate patterns beneath the surface. His chest, sculpted and firm, rose and fell with controlled breaths, a testament to the endurance gained from relentless workouts. The lines of his abdomen were defined, suggesting an underlying strength without sacrificing the elegance of leanness. As he moved, there was a fluidity to his motions, a grace born from the perfect harmony of muscle and agility. His physique spoke of dedication, of hours spent honing his body into a harmonious balance of strength and grace.

He possessed a fair complexion that perfectly complemented his features. His skin, with a hint of warmth, gave him a healthy glow, accentuating his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones. This harmonious combination of fair skin, blonde hair, and gray eyes enhanced his overall attractiveness, creating an aura of confidence and charm around him.

'These damned eyes... I've got to do something about them.' Disgust twisted his handsome features whenever he saw the beautiful shade of gray in his eyes.

Moving away from the mirror, he looked around the room a bit to take in the atmosphere and familiarize himself with its surroundings.

Thomas's room exuded an air of sophistication and comfort. The walls were painted in a calming shade of soft gray, creating a serene atmosphere. Large windows adorned with heavy, dark curtains allowed just the right amount of natural light to filter in during the day, casting a gentle glow across the room.

The focal point of the room was a king-sized bed, its frame made of rich, dark wood, adorned with plush pillows and a luxurious duvet in shades of charcoal and gold. A sleek, modern nightstand sat beside the bed, holding an elegant lamp that cast a warm, soft light across the room.

On the opposite wall, a large, antique oak desk was placed, cluttered with books, a high-end laptop, and intricate leather-bound notebooks. The room was adorned with tasteful artwork, depicting scenes of nature and abstract designs, adding a touch of sophistication to the space.

A cozy reading nook was nestled in one corner, complete with a plush armchair and a small bookshelf filled with classic novels and intriguing titles. The room was infused with the subtle scent of vanilla and sandalwood, emanating from scented candles strategically placed around the space.

After absorbing all he could about his room at first glance, something on his desk caught his attention, resulting in his walking over and picking it up.

It was a framed photo that graced his desk, capturing a moment frozen in time. The picture, encased in an ornate silver frame, depicted a joyous family gathering. Thomas stood tall and confident, his gray eyes reflecting a sense of determination, while his parents, radiant smiles on their faces, flanked him lovingly. The background showcased a sprawling garden, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, creating a warm and nostalgic ambiance within the frame. The photo emanated a sense of cherished memories and unbreakable family bonds, adding a personal touch to Thomas's refined and composed workspace.

He subconsciously used his thumb to gently swipe over the joyous face of both his parents then kissed it before putting it back in its place.

He didn't even realize he did that...

As he turned around in an attempt to go wherever he had in mind, he heard a loud screeching noise that felt as if something was eating away at his soul very slowly. He dropped to the ground, rolling over the smooth polished surface of the rich, dark walnut hardwood spread all over the floor of the room, covered by a luxurious carpeting. The more it continued, the harder it became for him to bear. He felt a splitting headache strike his temples followed by a burning sensation all over his body, as if his body was set on fire. The pain became so bad that it knocked him out cold, leaving him lying shirtless on the floor.

. . . .

As consciousness slowly seeped back into Thomas's mind, he found himself lying on the floor, the soft fibers of its carpet providing a comforting cushion beneath his shirtless body. His eyelids felt heavy, but he managed to crack them open, squinting against the gentle ambient light filtering through the curtains.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he groaned, attempting to push himself up with one arm. His muscles protested, feeling weak and uncooperative. With a deep breath, he gathered his strength and propped himself up on his elbows, taking in his surroundings. The familiar sight of his room gradually came into focus, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm ambiance.

He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, his fingers feeling the softness of the carpet beneath him. Confused, he tried to piece together what had happened. The memory of his sudden loss of consciousness was hazy, like a dream slipping away upon waking.

With a determined effort, he managed to sit up, his bare chest rising and falling with each labored breath. He glanced around, spotting a framed picture on his desk. Curiosity piqued, he reached for it, his fingers tracing the edges of the frame. The photograph inside depicted a younger version of himself and his late parents, captured in a moment of laughter and happiness. The image brought a bittersweet pang to his chest, reminding him of the family he had lost. For some reason, seeing the photo was like opening up Pandora's box; no, it felt much worse than that for him.

All of the original Thomas's memories came rushing over Ralph's soul, overwhelming him to the point he almost broke out in tears. Not because he felt sorry for whatever Thomas went through, but because he couldn't hold them back; it was like a force of nature, something he had no control over.

The soul was Ralph's, but the body definitely was Thomas's, and it reacted just the way Thomas would. Perhaps a fragment of the real Thomas's soul still lingered in his physical body.

"Don't worry about a thing, man, I got you." Thomas spoke in a hushed tone, his voice cracking between each word. "You just rest easy; I'll handle everything out here for you."

As if all of his burdens, all of his sins, all of his doubts, and all of his worries were being lifted. He felt back in control of his body; limb by limb, he slowly gained access back to his new body.

Though he couldn't see it, as he wasn't looking in a mirror right now, his gray pupils glowed slightly for a moment before reverting back to their original states.

"I will put my trust in you, then, Thomas." With a swift movement, he turned back to confirm if he really did just hear a voice out of nowhere in an empty room. Realizing what had just happened, he shook his head with a wholesome smile plastered on his face.

'What a pitiful and interesting kid,' Thomas thought to himself.

"How long have I been out, anyway?" Thomas murmured while peeking through the sheets of his curtains, then picked up a phone he saw charging on his desk. "It's gotten dark; I've been out for almost four hours."

Typing in the phone's password, he launched the phone app then dialed a number and called it. It rang for a few mere seconds before it clicked, and an elderly voice politely greeted Thomas.

"Have the car ready, Winston; I'll be out in fifteen." Thomas's tone was firm yet respectful.

"Understood, sir; everything will be in order by the time you're out. Anything else, sir?" Winston replied confidently, his voice steady and respectful.

"Thank you, Winston; that will be all." With that, he hung up.

Tossing the phone onto his bed, his eyes caught sight of something strange he hadn't seen on his desk before. Dropping the picture frame in his hand, he picked up the two strange items on his desk.

'How did I miss these? I really wasn't fully myself when I came to the desk earlier.' He thought to himself.

One of the two items was in a pouch while the other was a circular mirror, or at least it looked like that. Not any bigger than a plate.

"This must be the mirror he promised me. The one that will connect me to my baby girl again." He wiped a tear that almost escaped his eye as he assessed the mirror.

The circular mirror-like relic was an exquisite creation, its surface polished to a flawless sheen. The frame, crafted from an otherworldly material, shimmered with an iridescent glow, reminiscent of moonlit water. Its edges were adorned with delicate, intricate patterns, resembling celestial constellations. When held up to the light, the mirror emitted a soft, comforting aura, as if carrying a piece of the universe within its reflective surface.

Through this mystical artifact, Thomas could glimpse into the world where his daughter resided, bridging the gap between their realities during the winter solstice.

Opening a safe attached to his desk, he placed the mirror gently on a soft cushion in the safe, removing whatever was on it and keeping it on the bare surface of the safe, then closed it up.

"And you must be the celestial artifact he promised me." Thomas grinned from ear to ear as he slid the artifact out of its material.

His first impression of the artifact was that it was a prism-like gem, one that was within a shielded layer, not bigger than a bottle of cologne. But he understood more of it the longer he held and studied it.

The shielded Prism is a small, crystal-clear, gem-like object, radiating an eerie and captivating inner light. Encased within an intricate lattice of magically reinforced glass, it gives the illusion of fragility despite being incredibly durable. When held, it feels cool to the touch and emits a faint, mysterious hum. The prism's outer layer is breakable, but its core is protected by an enchantment that prevents complete destruction.

As he finished reading the small leaflet hidden inside the pouch, a cunning, mischievous smirk found its way to his lips. 'This is insane; this creature really cares about this person of his, giving me this much power.'

After digesting the Prism and all it offers, he put it back in its pouch then went for his phone once again. His eyes lit up as he looked down at its screen. He gritted his teeth then bit down on his lip.

Thomas took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the task ahead. With unwavering anticipation, he began to count down softly. 'Five...' His voice was steady, each word hanging in the air, charged with anticipation.

'Four...' The tension in the room grew palpable as he continued, his focus unbroken.

'Three...' His heart beat in rhythm with the countdown, propelling him forward.

'Two...' The seconds ticked away, echoing the gravity of his anticipation.

'One...' With a final, resolute breath, he steeled himself for what lay ahead.

Amidst the silence after his countdown of anticipation, Thomas's phone suddenly burst to life, its familiar ringtone slicing through the air. He snatched it up eagerly, his pulse quickening with the promise of the awaited conversation. The caller ID blinked with the expected name.

Dr. Michael Donovan It read.