The night was never truly dark.
Faint light glowed from the old street lamps trembling under the rain. Droplets tapped on the car window like impatient knocks from the universe.
Inan sat in the passenger seat, resting her head against the glass, eyes blank, staring out as if hoping the rain could wash away the knots in her mind.
The car engine hummed quietly. Her father drove in silence. No conversation. Only the soft swish of the wipers and the sound of Inan's heavy breathing filled the space.
She had just finished another debate practice at university dull, as always. No pride, no spark. Just another empty routine her body followed out of habit.
Inan didn't like staying still. When she was still, her thoughts screamed. About all the things she couldn't change. About her mother, long gone. About the hopes that once bloomed but withered away like wildflowers forgotten in the sun.
"Do you have class tomorrow morning?" her father asked softly, almost in a whisper.
"Mm," Inan replied, eyes still on the window.
She was too tired to explain why her heart never really lived in this world. Too tired to pretend she was fine especially after her mother's death… and her father's affair with a coworker that followed soon after.
Suddenly, thunder cracked across the sky.
For a moment, Inan saw her reflection in the window pale, hollow eyes, like a stranger.
Who's looking back at me? Why do I feel like I'm not myself anymore?
She blinked fast, forcing the image away.
The car drove on through the night, through the rain, through the silence.
Then everything happened too fast.
A motorcycle from the opposite direction slid into the center of the road, skidding on the wet asphalt. The headlights caught the rider's terrified face as they fell.
Her father slammed the brakes. Tires screeched. Inan's body lurched forward violently.
The front wheels began to swerve. A metallic scrape. Inan turned her head her eyes locked with the rider's, full of panic and dread.
"INAN, HOLD ON!" her father shouted.
Too late.
A truck from the right couldn't stop in time. It smashed into the side of their car with a deafening crash.
SREEEEECH!
Time stopped.
Her head hit the dashboard. Blood sprayed. The sound of bones cracking was louder than the thunderstorm.
For a moment, a blinding flash like a camera flash filled her vision.
The truck didn't just crash it crushed the side of their car like a tin can.
Her father tried to breathe one last time before everything went silent.
Too silent.
Then… nothing.
No feeling. No sound.
Just... emptiness.
Silence.
---
At first, she thought she had died.
But no. This didn't feel like death.
Yet it wasn't life either.
She was stuck... somewhere strange.
Inan opened her eyes.
But the world she knew was gone.
She lay on a white plain. Endless ground. Air without wind. A gray, unmoving sky. No direction, no time, no noise. Not even animals.
Her body felt light. Her soul, heavy. She tried to stand, but she didn't know where to go. There was nothing no destination, no clue.
"Hello?"
Her voice echoed. But no reply.
Then a whisper in the distance, like wind brushing across the void:
"At last… you've come."
Inan turned around, heart racing.
"Who are you?!" she shouted, panic rising.
"Our world has been waiting for you. Your body is broken, but your soul is whole. You are not dead... just moved."
She frowned. Confused.
"What does that mean?!"
No answer. Only fog creeping over the white plain. Then, from above, a light appeared spiraling like a portal. Like a whirlpool swallowing the sky.
Inan's heart raced. She turned to run. But her legs too heavy.
The ground beneath her cracked like shattering glass.
From the cracks, white hands appeared not human hands.
Soft as mist, they gripped her ankles, pulling her toward the whirlpool.
"No... please! Let me go!"
Her scream didn't echo anymore.
Just before she was swallowed, the voice whispered again:
"Inan... our world has chosen you."
---
Meanwhile, in the real world…
Inan's body lay motionless in a hospital bed.
An oxygen mask covered her mouth. Bandages wrapped her head.
Her father sat beside her, clutching her cold fingers.
Doctors said her condition was stable.
But she hadn't woken up. Two days had passed.
"Wake up, sweetheart... I'm here," his voice trembled.
But Inan didn't respond.
She was already too far away too deep to wake up.
---
Somewhere else, where time moved differently,
Inan landed softly on grass.
But the sky above her... was not one she recognized.
Purple, like a twilight that never moved. The air smelled of metal and flowers. She could hear the sound of a stream, and whispers from trees that seemed alive.
She sat up. No pain. She touched her face.
No wounds.
Her skin was smooth, younger. Too perfect.
She looked into the river's surface
...but the reflection wasn't her own.
"Who am I?" she whispered.
From behind the trees, a tall figure stepped out. A man handsome, with silver hair flowing past his shoulders.
His cloak was dark, his face youthful and sharp. No wrinkles.
His eyes piercing but kind.
He moved like someone who had lived for centuries.
He looked at her closely, as if weighing her soul.
"Is this the one?" he murmured.
Inan took a step back.
"Who are you?"
He raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Me? I'm Edward. But folks around here call me Grandpa Edward... for some odd reason."
He squinted at her.
"And you... you're human, aren't you?"
Inan swallowed nervously.
"I… I think so. I don't know where I am. Is this… a dream?"
Edward gave her a faint smile.
"No, not a dream. But not the world you know either."
He stepped forward, holding a glowing wooden staff.
"Welcome to Serynthia."
Inan looked around.
A purple sky. Mist floating above the river. Glowing flowers in the grass.
No streets. No cars. Just strange, haunting stillness.
"Serynthia?" she repeated.
"I... I have to go back. My dad—"
"Your body has not awakened yet," Edward said gently.
"You're in a coma, Inan. But your soul has been called here."
Inan collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard.
"A coma?! My soul?! Why me? I'm no one."
Edward looked at her longer this time. He snapped his fingers.
A glowing circle appeared in the air showing moving images:
Beast-masked kings gathered around a stone table, deep in discussion. None of them were human.
A voice echoed:
"We have ruled long enough. For true peace, Serynthia must be led by a human. One of them… must come."
"I agree. Humans feel empathy something we've forgotten."
"Very well. Whoever arrives when the gate opens shall be our new ruler."
The vision faded.
Inan froze.
"They… chose a human?"
Edward nodded.
"Not just any human. One who appears when the gate opens once every hundred years. And you, it seems… are the chosen one."
Inan shook her head.
"No. You got the wrong person. Not me.
I-i can't even take care of myself in the real world."
Edward folded his arms behind his back.
"They didn't choose you because you're perfect. They chose you because you're broken. And only the broken can understand the wounds of this land."
Silence.
Inan lowered her eyes.
Her heart pounded but less in panic, more in... wonder.
"I… I don't want to be queen," she said quietly.
Edward smiled faintly.
"And that's why you might be the right one."
He tapped his staff. The ground trembled.
A stone path emerged from the grass, leading to a temple glowing with golden light atop a hill.
"There, the guardians await. They will test your sincerity… and your disbelief."
Inan looked at the path, then at Edward.
"What if I say no?"
"You'll return to your body. But the gate will close forever. And Serynthia will lose its only chance… for peace under human rule."
Silence again.
A gentle rain began to fall though the sky wasn't dark.
Inan stood slowly.
Her legs trembled. But somewhere deep inside her, something stirred
A small warmth.
A push.
One step forward.
"May-maybe... I could at least take a look," she whispered.
Edward smiled wider, as if that was the best answer.
"Once the first step is taken… you'll never return the same."
They walked in silence.
Above Serynthia's twilight sky, a black bird soared in circles
carrying a message to the palace:
The Chosen One has arrived.
And back in the real world, beside the hospital bed...
Inan's cold fingers...
...moved slightly.
---
🕊️ To be continued...
I am sorry for the translate (ㅅ˙³˙)♡