— — — —
It was three in the morning when I woke up, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day—I couldn't sleep any longer.
After a quick shower and getting dressed, I headed straight for the kitchen. I powered on the espresso machine and reached for my favorite beans: a Brazilian single origin, 100% Arabica. Perfect for early mornings—sharp enough to wake a body still clinging to sleep in the cold hours before dawn.
I ground the beans with practiced ease and locked the portafilter into place. A 4 oz ceramic mug waited beneath the spout. As the machine began to hum, the rich aroma of coffee began to fill the kitchen air.
Twenty-eight seconds later, the espresso was done.
I lifted the mug gently, took a deep breath, and inhaled the warmth rising from it. That familiar, bittersweet fragrance. Comforting. Sharp. Alive.
The first sip touched my tongue—and the world changed.
Suddenly, I wasn't in my kitchen anymore. All around me, the hum of life. People running across cobbled streets, children laughing, a soccer ball bouncing wildly between players. Somewhere far above, someone waved from the sky, golden light spilling down like honey.
"...Pele?" I muttered, eyes sparkling, caught in a dreamlike image of Brazil playing across my mind.
When the last drop was gone, I moved to the sink and carefully rinsed the ceramic mug. Then the portafilter. Then the entire espresso machine, before switching it off. I stood there for a moment, facing the machine and my modest collection of barista tools—grinders, tampers, shakers, and the rest of my precious coffee gear, including my V60 setup.
I bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Astoria… for the amazing espresso."
Then, in a half-cringed, half-proud voice, I added with a grin,
"Dai-su-kiii!"
I grabbed my things and headed to the front door. My apartment was simple—barely furnished, really—but the kitchen was different. That space was sacred. My sanctuary. A corner of the world where I could breathe and create something warm. Something real.
After all, I used to be a barista in a big, well-known coffee shop. I'd worked long shifts, handled tough customers, and learned to make every kind of drink you could think of. It was a hard job—but somewhere along the way, it taught me how to dream.
And now, that dream was about to begin.
Today was the grand opening of my very own café.
It was small—just enough for me to handle alone—but it was mine. I'd poured everything into it. All my savings, all my time, all my hopes. No regrets.
The sky was still dark when I left, a slight breeze brushing past as I made my way to the shop. I unlocked the door and flicked the lights on. The space smelled faintly of new paint and wood polish.
I headed to the utility room, grabbed the cleaning supplies, and got to work. Mopped the graphite-colored tile floors until they gleamed. Wiped down the windows until they shone like mirrors. Then came the workstation—every machine checked, every surface cleaned. I double-checked the espresso machine's calibration, tested the grind settings on both grinders, and arranged the pour-over station for the V60.
Single origin beans were lined up neatly, each one selected for a smooth profile and low acidity. I rewashed all the shakers and ceramic mugs. Prepped the blenders for frappes and matcha drinks. Organized the flavored syrups, mojito tools, and every last piece of gear I might need.
Everything in its place. Everything ready.
It was a humble café, tucked in a quiet corner of town, with a small drive-thru on the side. Nothing grand. But it was mine.
It was almost 5 AM by the time I stepped outside. I set up a chalkboard stand near the entrance and wrote out today's discounted drinks for the soft opening. No flashy banners. No loud music. I didn't have the budget for any of that.
But I had hope.
I walked back to the glass door and flipped the sign from CLOSED to NOW OPEN.
Then I paused… and looked around before going inside.
— — — —
As soon as I stepped forward, everything around me changed.
The familiar scent of roasted beans and the warmth of my shop vanished. In their place was an endless white space—soft, glowing, quiet. It stretched infinitely in all directions, without walls, without ceiling. Just white.
"Eh…?" I muttered, blinking in confusion.
I spun around, expecting to see the entrance of my coffee shop behind me—but it was gone. So was the counter, the espresso machine, even the chalkboard sign I'd just set outside.
Gone. Everything.
I slapped my cheek, hard. The sting pulsed through my face. So… not a dream?
Then, a calm voice echoed from behind me.
"Hello, Leon."
I turned.
A throne now stood before me—tall and regal—though it hadn't been there a moment ago. Seated on it was a figure cloaked in flowing garments of light, but I couldn't see their face. They didn't feel threatened. Just… still. Like time itself was taking a breath.
The being spoke again, in a voice that resonated with warmth and gravity.
"Leon, someone wishes to speak with you. To help you understand what is happening."
Behind the throne, a small orb of light emerged—floating gently. It had delicate wings that fluttered softly, like a hummingbird's, and it glowed like a tiny sun. No face, no eyes. Just light.
The orb hovered closer.
"I'm sorry, Leon," it said gently. "It wasn't supposed to be your time. I made a mistake… a clerical error."
It fluttered anxiously.
"I'm one of the guides of your world. Each soul has one. You… collapsed. A heart attack. Brought on by overwork and exhaustion. You passed out in front of your shop."
I stood frozen. I couldn't speak. My mind felt like it had hit a wall.
"T-This can't be real…"
"Look," the orb whispered.
Before me, like a hologram or a CCTV feed, an image unfolded. I saw myself—lying just outside my shop's front door. Coffee mug still in hand.
I dropped to my knees. My throat tightened. My vision blurred.
That was me.
I staggered back a few steps, unable to look anymore. I sank to the floor and hugged my knees, rocking gently. My lips moved but no words came—just a low murmur, broken and confused.
The two figures exchanged glances. The orb fluttered closer, circling me.
"Leon… listen, please. I know this is a lot. But though we can't return you to your old world, we can offer you another path—"
The one on the throne nodded.
"Yes. I can send you to one of the worlds I created. A new place, full of possibility. And I will grant you a gift—an ability, something that connects to your life before."
I looked up slowly, wiping my eyes.
"A new… world?" I whispered.
The orb stopped beside me, glowing a bit brighter.
"You can start again, Leon. And yes, you can build your own coffee shop there. It won't be like the one you knew, but it will be yours, in your own way. I promise."
"...Really?" My voice cracked. "Even if that world is different?"
The being on the throne spoke again, firmer this time.
"That world is unlike your own. Magic exists there—mana flows through the earth. People train their bodies, wield spells, tame beasts. But don't worry. You'll be given a gift suited to your heart, not just your strength."
I stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust off my pants.
I stared down at the white floor, quiet for a long moment.
"...Can I… serve people coffee there?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
"Yes," the orb replied gently. "And maybe something more."
The throne figure nodded. "You won't be alone. This guide will stay by your side."
The orb twirled cheerfully in midair. "I'll be with you every step of the way!"
I took a deep breath.
Part of me still wanted to scream, to deny it all. But another part—a tired, lonely part—just wanted peace. I had no family left in my old world. No one was waiting for me to come home.
"I don't understand everything yet," I said. "But… if I'm really gone, then I want to live again. I want to try."
The figure on the throne smiled, though I couldn't see it—I could feel it.
"Then it is decided."
"Are you sure you have no regrets?" the orb asked softly.
"I regret a lot of things," I said, honest and quiet. "But nothing I can change. If you're giving me a new beginning, I'll take it. No matter how strange."
The throne's figure raised a hand.
"Then go, Leon. And brew the life you've always wanted."
The orb circled me once more, then hovered close to my chest, glowing brilliantly.
"Don't worry," it said with a giggle, "I'll help you pick the perfect beans in that world too."
I laughed for the first time. It was soft, a little broken—but real.
A warm light began to grow around me. Brighter and brighter, until it swallowed everything.
I closed my eyes.
And then—
I saw it.
— — — —
I found myself staring at a world unlike any I had ever seen. It wasn't round—but rather, shaped like a half-sphere, as if the bottom had been sheared clean off. The world floated there, suspended in the endless dark, divided into three distinct layers.
"What… is this place?" I murmured to myself, unable to take my eyes off the sight before me.
A soft, glowing orb hovered beside me, radiating gentle warmth like a firefly's glow. Its voice was cheerful and light, almost childlike.
"This is the world of Estrotia," it said. "It is divided into three parts. The lower world is where those with little to no power live—ordinary folk. Above that is the middle realm, home to stronger beings, warriors, and those who wield magic. And the highest layer… is reserved for the heroes of this world. The ones who shape history."
I swept my gaze across the horizon. Despite its strange form, there were things oddly familiar—the velvet dark of space, the twinkle of distant stars. Yet, when I looked closer, I realized something extraordinary.
Two massive, celestial creatures drifted slowly around the world of Estrotia—like guardians from a forgotten age. They resembled giant anglerfish, but their bodies were hollow and translucent, as if carved from mist and stardust.
The one circling from the left bore a blazing orb near its head, shining like a miniature sun. It illuminated the lower hemisphere with golden warmth, casting shadows that stretched and curled with each slow rotation. The other, gliding silently from the right, had a body that mirrored the night sky—deep, star-speckled darkness that shimmered with galaxies. Near its head floated a gentle silver glow, like a moon suspended just beyond reach.
"They are the Guardians of this world," the glowing orb explained, "and serve as its Sun and Moon. But in Estrotia, they are only legends—no eye can see them… except yours, right now."
"I see…" I whispered, mesmerized. They moved so slowly, as if time itself bent around them. They weren't swimming through water, yet they floated with a grace like sea creatures in an unseen current.
For a brief moment, I felt like I was watching an ancient painting in motion—one that had existed long before I was born and would continue long after I was gone.
Then, everything around me began to fade, the world melting into a soft, white brilliance. I closed my eyes instinctively against the glare.
And when I opened them—
—I was standing in a forest. A quiet one, still and unfamiliar. Nearby, I could hear the distant call of birds, and the wind whispered gently through the leaves. I stepped forward and realized I was at the edge of a cliff. Below, beyond a sea of trees, stood a grand kingdom with white towers that caught the morning light.
— — — —
Author's Note:
Aaaand here we go—new story starts now 😭☕
Not a sword or dragon in sight yet, just coffee, quiet dreams, and a guy who got isekai'd right before his café opened. I hope you liked it!
More chapters coming soon. Thanks for reading 🫶
– Gomisekai