Zander had always believed his life would stay small, a simple mechanic.

A narrow world of engine smoke and early mornings, of warm laughter drifting through the garage as he tightened bolts and wiped grease from his wrists. His coworkers teased him for wearing that battered maroon beret every day, for the little feathers tucked in its side, but they said it with affection. They liked him—trusted him. He was the reliable one, the steady one, the man with green eyes that always seemed to notice when a machine was hurting before anyone else did.

Every night after work, when the town quieted and only the streetlights whispered outside his window, he sat with his old guitar balanced against his thigh. His fingers moved across the strings like they were tracing a secret language—soft, skillful, and too intimate for daylight. Music was a tenderness he didn’t know how to explain, a part of him that glowed quietly beneath the rough edges and tight black shirt stretched across his chest.

Maybe that hidden tenderness was why the universe chose him?

It started so ordinarily.

His boss, Leo, tossed him the keys with a casual, “Breakdown on Miller’s Ridge. Should be simple.”

Routine. Predictable. A road he’d driven a hundred times.

But as he reached the ridge, the world felt… off. The wind held its breath. The silence pressed against his ribs like a held note.

Where there should’ve been a stranded driver, there was only the whisper of grass swaying unnaturally still. And then—barely audible at first—came the hum. A shimmering vibration in the air that prickled across his skin, resonant and strange, like the echo of a chord no human hand could play.

He stepped out of the truck slowly. The air trembled.

And then he saw it.

A great whirling tear in reality, glowing a deep, impossible green. Not light—life—as if the color itself were breathing, expanding, collapsing, pulsing like a great cosmic heart. The portal hovered above the ground, casting rolling emerald shadows that twisted the world into something unrecognizable.

Magic. Not the soft storybook kind—this was raw, ancient, powerful. And it called to him, like it was yearning for him to enter.

Instinct screamed at him to run. He did—he flung himself back into his truck, hands shaking as he turned the key.

But the portal was already awake. Already aware. Already reaching for him.

The wind roared inward, the sky ripped apart—and the world folded around him in a violent pull of color and sound. He felt himself falling and rising all at once, swallowed by the portal’s blinding green light.

Then—

Stillness.

He stumbled onto a smooth metallic platform, illuminated by veins of green energy flowing beneath transparent floors. A sprawling alien city towered ahead, its buildings impossibly tall and alive with swirling neon patterns. Black stone fused with glowing emerald circuitry, casting cascading lights that flickered like living stars.

His breath caught. This place was magic and machine blended into one breath—an illuminated symphony humming in harmonies he could feel through the soles of his feet.

Hours passed as he wandered through its labyrinthine paths. Strange glyphs glowed along archways. Invisible currents of air brushed against his skin like curious hands. He felt watched—not by hostility, but by intrigue, as though the city itself had eyes.

He adjusted his goggles, swallowed hard, and kept moving deeper into the shimmering heart of this alien world.

And then, turning a corner He collided with someone.

The impact was soft. Warm. Little did he know how important this person would be to him.

His goggles slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them up with a trembling hand. His shoulders tensed, his stance widening like he expected danger. He swallowed hard, glancing at the alien’s unfamiliar features before forcing his gaze away.

“S–Sorry. I didn’t see you there. Look, I—I don’t even know where I am, so just… just don’t come any closer, alright?”

(ANY GENDER)