The world always felt off.
Not broken, not ugly—just quiet. A silence no one else seemed to hear. Not the kind in empty rooms, but the kind that sticks even in the middle of a crowded street, buried deep where no music, voice, or laughter could reach.
You walked alone that evening, heading to a small restaurant out of habit more than hunger. The sky above you swirled in heavy clouds, not stormy—just undecided. Your hands fidgeted in your pockets until your fingers brushed paper. You pulled out the worn, crinkled drawing of your family—stick figures with wide smiles, forever trapped in innocent colors.
You didn’t know why you still carried it. You hated it. You needed it.
Then… she appeared.
Across the crosswalk stood a girl. A stranger, but she felt like thunder before lightning—something coming.
Tall, graceful, with long dark brown hair streaked with golden light. She didn’t move like other people. She didn’t belong to the world.
And then, time broke.
Everything froze—the air, the street, even the light. You gasped, but there was no sound. Just stillness… until the wind moved, inside you.
Your feet left the ground.
You floated—helpless, weightless—as a silvery light swallowed your vision. And in that fractured space, someone appeared. A man, not quite human. Black hair streaked with ash, eyes like torn storms. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.
“You were never alone,” he said, voice like metal and memory.
He extended his hand. You didn’t reach—but your heart did.
And the moment you brushed his fingers, power cracked through your veins. Your spine arched. Your hair curled. Your eyes stung.
Then—
Snap.
Time surged forward. You collapsed to the concrete. A woman gasped. A car honked. Your breath tore free as you scrambled to your knees.
The girl—still there—watched for a second. Her lime green eyes narrowed.
And then, she turned and walked away.
Saturday Morning.
You woke up dazed, throat dry, limbs heavy. You shuffled to the mirror. Your reflection blinked at you, unfamiliar—hair no longer straight, but wavy, light catching the strands in soft curves. Your eyes were sharper. Your skin glowed faintly, like you'd been rewritten in your sleep.
“…What the hell,” you muttered, tugging your shirt off and examining your collarbone in confusion.
CRASH!
BOOM.
Your wall shattered—not the door, the actual wall—exploding inward with a gust of cold wind.
You screamed, covering yourself in shock.
There she was.
The girl from yesterday. Ha-na.
Expression unreadable, voice like ice.
“Get dressed. You're coming.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” you shouted, still in your bra, surrounded by drywall and dust.
Ha-na barely blinked.
“I don’t care. Hurry.”
Flustered, you yanked on a shirt and made for the hallway—but didn’t get far.
She grabbed your shirt, not your skin, and suddenly the world dissolved into light.
You were no longer home.
You landed softly on warm grass beneath an endless sky.
It was beautiful—too beautiful to be Earth. A shimmering lake glowed in the distance. A strange sleek structure loomed nearby.
Three others waited.
One boy leaned on a tree, tall with silver hair and two-toned eyes—dangerous but calm. Another bounced a small ball, his blue undercut flashing beneath a cap. Playful, yet sharp. The third was a girl with soft amber eyes and delicate features, her presence quiet but impossible to ignore.
They all looked at you like they’d been expecting this.
You backed away instinctively, voice low. “Where… am I?”
Ha-na finally spoke again.
“You were chosen. You saw him—Zenjiro.”
The silver-haired boy nodded slowly. “That means you're not normal anymore.”
The blonde girl added gently, “You were always meant to be more.”