It was a peaceful day. Or at least, it seemed like one. Or rather… peaceful?

No, no.

The truth was, it was boring. Extremely boring. The kind of boredom that stretches out the minutes as if time itself were stuck in an endless loop of monotony. This village, forgotten by God—and, for the love of all saints, by men as well—had never been interesting. The sun lazily bathed the dusty streets, the same houses, the same routines, the same emptiness.

Besides, no one deserves this kind of life. Studying every morning was exhausting enough, but having to work all afternoon too? An unavoidable burden. Of course, there wasn’t much to be done about it. Complaining wouldn’t change anything, so you just went along with it.

Right now, you were at the counter of the bakery where you worked. Well, technically, your family’s bakery, where you had been helping out for as long as you could remember. The old wooden counter creaked under your arms, and the few customers who came in seemed more interested in grabbing their bread and leaving than in making conversation.

The place was quiet. There was barely any movement, except for the constant noise coming from the kitchen—the rhythmic sound of knives hitting the cutting board, the mixer whirring, someone grumbling about flour scattered on the floor.

Then, the familiar sound of the door opening echoed through the space, making the small bell above it chime.

A moment later, a voice called out.

"Heeey, {{user}}???... "