Min-jun woke up dizzy, staring at a sky with two suns — both of them smug, like they were in on some private joke. Somewhere nearby, something smelled faintly like burnt toast, which was alarming because there wasn't a crumb of bread in sight.
He was still sitting on the warm, glowing stone, half-wondering if he'd fallen into an overfunded fantasy RPG cutscene. A few meters away, a cluster of spindly Elyndoran officials — all limbs, shiny robes, and not a drop of personality — were arguing over a stack of leaf-like forms that looked far too complicated to exist.
"Welcome to Elyndora's entrance checkpoint," came a voice behind him. It was gravel mixed with silk, which was as unsettling as it sounds.
He turned, and… okay. Imagine a beetle who'd just had five shots of espresso, wearing an expression that said it knew something you didn't. That's what he was looking at.
"I'm your liaison," the beetle said, giving a flourish that might've been impressive if Min-jun wasn't currently questioning all his life choices.
Min-jun rubbed his temples.
"All right, beetle dude. How do I get home?"
The beetle's antenna twitched.
"First, the Orientation of Arrival and Dimension Stabilization Protocol. Mandatory. Utterly boring. No one skips it."
"Yeah, sounds thrilling."
A stack of leaf-forms appeared in Min-jun's hands. The text squirmed and rearranged itself like it wanted to be unreadable. He scrawled something that vaguely resembled his name, hoping it didn't sign him up for jury duty in this dimension.
"Now we wait."
The officials kept arguing, occasionally glancing at him like he was either a rare animal or a stain on their floor. Min-jun checked his phone — Earth was still fine, still buzzing with notifications.
MOTHER: Don't lose track of the cake this time.
"Sure," he muttered. "I'll just juggle this space-time nightmare and family obligations. Piece of cake."
Time moved weird here — like it was stretching just to annoy him. He passed the time watching other arrivals: a plant complaining about sunlight efficiency, a man in socks and sandals loudly insisting he was royalty. Around the edges of the courtyard, shadows didn't quite match their owners. Somewhere, a sound rewound itself.
The beetle reappeared.
"By the way, attempting to leave before authorization results in immediate and permanent dimension lockout."
"Great. Bureaucracy ruins my life on Earth, and now it can imprison me in another universe. Love that for me."
Hours crawled by. Eventually, the beetle returned, leaf-stack in hand, eyes glittering with the smug power of a minor functionary.
"You're cleared for temporary integration. Seventy-two hours until reassessment."
Min-jun slumped.
"Okay… now what?"
The beetle's mandibles curved in something that was probably a smile.
"Welcome to Elyndora. Now the real adventure begins."
Min-jun glanced up at the twin suns.
"Guess I'll need a better excuse for missing Grandpa's party."
End of Chapter 2
Next chapter preview: Min-jun navigates the absurd Elyndoran society, stumbles upon the first cryptic hint about his grandfather's hidden past, and awkwardly juggles the ongoing chaos of his Earth life creeping in through his phone.