Reincarnation of Nikola Tesla in another world-Chapter 22: A new place.

I wake up with a sharp gasp, my body jolting as if I had been drowning moments before.

Where am I?

The ceiling is pristine. Smooth walls, polished floors, and the scent of herbs and expensive disinfectants fill the air.

I push myself up slightly, wincing at the dull ache lingering in my limbs. My head feels... lighter. My body smaller. I flex my fingers, surprised by how delicate they feel. It's like wearing someone else's skin. A shiver runs down my spine. I glance down. No tailored suit. No powerful, calloused hands of a man in his prime. Just... this.

Back to normal.

Or rather, back to weak.

The realization crawls under my skin like an itch I can't scratch. It's like being trapped in a dollhouse. Everything feels... miniature.

[System Interface Unlocked.]

A translucent screen flickers before my eyes. Weird.

The door clicks open.

I snap my head up as a young woman enters, carrying a silver tray with food and a delicate vial of glowing blue liquid.

She is... breathtaking.

Long, silken hair tied back neatly, her uniform immaculate, her posture elegant. She sets the tray down beside me. "You've woken up," she says softly, her tone polite but gentle. "The court healer was summoned, but..." A faint flicker of amusement crosses her face. "You were already healed before she could even take a look. How unusual."

I glance at the potion. "Then what's this for?"

"Healing magic mends wounds," she explains, adjusting the tray with a practiced touch, "but pain lingers. You should take this after eating."

With that, she turns and exits the room without another word.

I watch her go.

The moment is short-lived.

The door swings open again, this time with urgency.

I don't even have time to straighten up before Vaqihr enters.

His presence is a storm—controlled, yet carrying an undercurrent of tension. His robe flows behind him, his usual imposing aura tempered just slightly.

The same nurse follows behind him, but as soon as he reaches my bedside, she excuses herself, leaving the two of us alone.

He exhales, sitting beside me.

For a long moment, he just looks at me. Measuring. Evaluating. The system interface flickers in my peripheral vision, distracting me. _What is this thing?_

Then, finally, he speaks.

"It must have been difficult."

His voice is softer than before.

"Resisting the controlling magic of a high demon."

I freeze. _High demon? What's he talking about?_ My mind starts racing, but I force myself to stay still.

Vaqihr leans back slightly, rubbing his temple, as if the weight of the situation is pressing against him. "I attacked you," he says, tone laced with regret. "Without knowing the truth."

I watch him carefully.

"My clairvoyance showed an immense mana presence. I thought I was facing a high-level caster."

He exhales sharply. "The crime wasn't yours to bear. I am willing to let you go."

The words should make me feel relieved. But they don't.

Because something tells me...

It's not going to be that simple.

And I'm right.

The door opens again.

This time, the atmosphere shifts.

A woman enters.

Regal. Elegant. Cold.

She moves with the precision of someone used to being obeyed, draped in luxurious fabric embroidered with golden filigree. Attendants follow closely behind, parting for her like waves before a ship.

She isn't alone.

Two other people enter after her.

One of them, a tall man with an easy smirk, stands near the back of the group, observing.

The woman barely glances at me before turning her full attention to Vaqihr.

"It was good of the Grand Wizard," she begins, her tone smooth but utterly detached, "to act in the interest of national security."

I already don't like where this is going. _This woman radiates bad news._

"But," she continues, finally looking at me, "since you failed to capture the true perpetrator, you lack the authority to release this child."

Vaqihr's shoulders tense.

"Detention?" His voice is sharp. "You haven't even taken him in for questioning!"

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The woman doesn't flinch. "He was present at the scene of a battle against national forces," she says simply. "That alone requires investigation."

Vaqihr scowls. "His mana levels were checked by experts. He is normal."

The woman doesn't react. "And yet, the presence of an unknown factor led to the death of several guards. That alone is reason enough for detainment."

Vaqihr's hand clenches into a fist at his side. "His presence there does not make him the culprit."

"That will be for the court to decide."

The tension in the room is suffocating.

Then—

A smooth, mocking sigh.

The tall man steps forward.

"Relax, darling," he drawls, tilting his head slightly, "you'll get lines on your face."

Silence.

For the first time, the woman falters.

It's slight, barely noticeable, but it's there—the subtle twitch of her lips, the way her posture stiffens for just a second.

The tall man smiles knowingly.

"Juvenile detention sounds so harsh, my beautiful," he muses, his voice as smooth as silk. "Why not make it... house arrest? At least until further information arrives?"

A beat of silence.

Then, finally—she exhales.

"Fine."

Her gaze snaps back to Vaqihr, her expression once again cold and composed.

"He will be under your care," she states, "but understand this, Grand Wizard—if you let your emotions cloud your duty, I will not be so lenient next time."

With that, she turns, her attendants following immediately.

The moment she steps out, the tension deflates—just slightly.

Vaqihr exhales, turning to the tall man.

"Good day, High Councilor Marius."

The man grins. "Good day to you too, Grand Wizard Vaqihr." Then follows his mistress hastily.

Vaqihr exhales, running a hand through his hair before turning to me. His sharp eyes, though still burdened, seem a little less severe than before.

"You stay here for a bit, child."

Then, without another word, he storms out. Relieved, yet still troubled.

The door slams shut, leaving me alone.

I exhale slowly. My pulse is still steady from the tension earlier, but now that I'm finally alone, my mind shifts back to the thing I noticed earlier—

The system message is still there.

Glowing softly in my vision, unchanged. _What does it even mean?_

No one noticed it.

Not Vaqihr. Not the nurse. Not the woman who just left.

It was floating there the entire time, yet I was the only one who could see it.

...It's personal.

Only I can see this interface.

Something's wrong.

I glance down at myself, my body still wrapped in pristine white hospital clothes.

That's when the second realization hits me like a sledgehammer.

My clothes are gone.

Not just my worn-out tunic.

My amulet.

My bag.

And more importantly...

The motor blueprint.

My stomach drops.

The only copy I had. The design that could change everything.

Gone.

I clench my fists, my mind racing.

Where is it?