I Transmigrated as Omega Prince

Jay Reyes never understood why people envied him. They saw his expensive suits, the velvet ropes pulled aside for him, the flashes of cameras that followed his every step. They saw wealth, glamor, and a life that promised anything he asked for. But envy had a funny flaw. It only judged from the outside.

Tonight was another celebration, another meaningless charity gala hosted under the golden crest of Reyes Corporation. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling like diamonds plucked from the heavens. A polished marble floor reflected gowns and polished shoes. People danced, laughed, toasted expensive wine like joy was something you could bottle and sell.

Jay moved among them with natural grace. His smile was crafted perfectly, every curve of his lips practiced until it looked effortless. He shook hands. He laughed at jokes he didn’t hear. He posed for photos his heart wasn’t in.

His father had warned him before the event: “Tonight, you are the face of this family. Do not embarrass us.”

So, Jay performed.

A group of socialites swooned around him, taking pictures to post online later. Compliments poured over him like confetti.

Perfect. If only they knew the truth about the Reyes heir.

His father never looked at him without disappointment shadowing his eyes. His mother, distant and cold, had perfected the art of pretending he didn’t exist. The only affection Jay ever received came from strangers hunting status through proximity.

He excused himself from the spotlight, stepping into a hallway dimly lit and mercifully silent. Away from the eyes that expected so much and cared so little, he breathed for what felt like the first time all evening.

His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. A message.

Dad: We need to talk tomorrow. About your behavior.

Behavior? The irony nearly forced a bitter laugh out of him. He had danced, smiled, and lied according to expectation. What more did they want? To crawl?

Jay pocketed the phone, jaw tight.

“You’re slipping,” a voice said from behind.

He turned to see Marco, his cousin, leaning lazily against the wall. Marco’s smirk was twisted, daring Jay to snap back.

Jay replied calmly, “Walking away for a moment isn’t a crime.”

“Uncle might disagree,” Marco muttered. “You’ve had everything handed to you, yet you walk around like you’re the victim.”

Jay kept his voice steady. “Is that what you think?”

“That’s what everyone thinks.” Marco leaned forward, voice low. “Don’t worry. Soon, what’s undeserved will be taken back.”

Jay blinked, unsettled by the confidence in his tone. “What are you implying?”

But Marco didn’t answer. He slipped into the crowd, swallowed by music and shadows.

Jay stared after him, a cold uneasiness crawling beneath his skin. His fingers curled into fists, then relaxed slowly. Paranoia wasn’t a good look, especially for someone who lived under constant scrutiny. He told himself to forget it.

Outside, the night welcomed him with brisk air and quiet streets. His driver, an older man named Ramon, opened the car door.

“Young Master, going home now?”

“Yeah,” Jay murmured. “Let’s go.”

He slid into the leather seat. As the car pulled away from the bright venue, silence settled beside him, heavy and comforting at the same time.

City lights blurred through the tinted window. Jay leaned his head against the cool glass, a sigh slipping free. His reflection stared back: handsome, poised, perfect. A stranger wearing his face.

Who am I beneath all this?

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine a world where love wasn’t conditional, where he could laugh without fear that someone was watching too closely. He wanted freedom. He wanted peace. He wanted even a single person who cared whether he lived or died.

“Life must be so easy for him.”

They never saw the loneliness.

The car slowed at a red light. Jay opened his eyes and watched pedestrians cross in front of them. People bundled in coats, talking, arguing, laughing. They had problems, but they had things that mattered — relationships, emotions, messy imperfection he envied.

His heartbeat drummed softly in his ears.

The light shifted green.

Just as the car moved forward, a roar split the quiet night.

A truck barreled toward them from the left, speeding through the intersection.

Time fractured.

Ramon shouted something Jay couldn’t hear.

Jay’s body slammed against the interior. His vision blurred. The taste of blood filled his mouth. Sirens wailed distantly, like a dream refusing to end.

He tried to move, to breathe, but his chest burned, refusing every command.

Through the haze, one thought forced itself forward:

Would anyone miss me?

Darkness swallowed him.

Moments, or perhaps hours later, Jay felt light. Strange. Weightless. Like he’d broken free from gravity. He waited for pain, but none came.

He opened his eyes.

Golden light filtered through sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze. The air smelled fresh, tinged with flowers. A soft mattress cushioned his back. This wasn’t a hospital. It didn’t feel like Earth.

His fingers twitched. Smaller. Softer.

He pushed himself upright. Long curtains draped from towering windows. The room was elegant, warm, almost royal. His heart pounded with confusion and disbelief.

A mirror stood across from the bed.

Jay slid off the mattress, feet hitting polished stone tiles. He approached the mirror slowly, afraid curiosity was playing with him.

In the reflection stood a younger version of himself  maybe eighteen. His features softened, eyes brighter, body noticeably different… slimmer, delicate even. His hair, once meticulously styled for business perfection, now fell in soft waves around his face.

“What…?”

His voice was lighter too.

Was this a dream? A hallucination before death took him fully?

Before panic sunk its claws in, the door burst open.

A man in elegant attire rushed in, shock quickly replaced by relief.

Jay froze. His mind struggled to connect the words to reality.

The man dropped to one knee. “We feared the worst after you collapsed during training. I shall inform the King and Queen you have regained consciousness.”

King. Queen.

Jay’s breath stilled.

This wasn’t Earth.

The man looked up, eyes softening with genuine concern a type of concern Jay had never received before.

“You have returned to us, Prince Jay.”

Prince.

The word echoed. Strange, yet warm. He had no memories of this world. He didn’t know the rules, the expectations.

But for the first time in thirty years…

Jay’s heart trembled with an emotion he barely recognized.

Hope.