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Ethan hadn't meant to stay awake all night.He'd tried to sleep — turned off the lights, shut down the PC, lay there staring at the ceiling while the city whispered through the glass. But his mind wouldn't shut up. Thoughts circled like restless birds: the portal, the letter from the guild, the dungeon waiting miles beneath Orario.
By the time he finally gave up and sat on the couch, the sky outside had turned that pale gray-blue that comes just before dawn. The world felt hushed, suspended — as if the city itself was holding its breath.
He rubbed his face with both hands, exhaling through his fingers. His body ached in that dull, quiet way that comes after too many sleepless nights.Still, there was no heaviness in his chest this time. No fear. No regret. Just calm inevitability.
Today was the day.
He stood, stretching until his spine popped, and moved through the apartment without turning on the lights. He didn't need to. The routine was second nature by now — kettle on, water boiling, coffee grounds into the press. The smell filled the air, sharp and grounding.
As he poured the coffee into his mug, his eyes wandered to the window. Down below, the streets were empty except for a lone delivery truck passing by. Its headlights cut through the fog, briefly illuminating the corner café where he and Samantha had sat yesterday. He could almost hear her laugh again — that warm, unguarded sound that had made the whole day feel like something worth keeping.
He smiled faintly and shook his head. "You'd probably call this another one of my disappearing acts," he muttered.
But she wouldn't notice this time.No one would.
When he crossed over, the world here would stop. Literally. Time froze until he came back. It had been jarring the first time — the way everything resumed exactly where it left off. The clock hands unmoving, the coffee in his cup still warm.A strange mercy, really. He didn't have to say goodbye or make up excuses. He could just go.
He took a slow sip of coffee, savoring it, then set the mug down and headed for the bedroom.
His travel bag waited by the door — small, practical, already packed. Inside were a few things that mattered: the reforged dagger, the pendant from Bell's guild, a notebook filled with maps and sketches, and a folded photograph from a time he didn't like to think about. Everything else could stay.
The apartment looked different in the early light. The shadows felt softer. The little imperfections he never fixed — a scuffed wall, a loose cabinet handle — all of it seemed to fade into something quietly familiar.He realized, not for the first time, that he'd grown to like this place.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a quiet sigh."Well," he said to no one. "Guess it's time."
He grabbed his jacket, slung the bag over his shoulder, and left.
The city was still half-asleep.He drove with the windows slightly open, letting in the crisp morning air. The radio murmured something low and forgettable. He didn't really listen — just followed the road as it wound through the outskirts, where skyscrapers gave way to trees and the hum of traffic faded into birdsong.
The further he drove, the more the world seemed to empty out. The horizon stretched wide and pale, a thin layer of mist hanging over the hills. It felt detached, unreal — as if the city he'd just left had already been swallowed by memory.
He parked near the clearing at the edge of the forest. The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound breaking the stillness.
When he stepped out, the air smelled faintly of rain and pine. Dew clung to his boots as he made his way down the narrow path, leaves crunching softly beneath his feet. And then, just past the last line of trees, he saw it — the shimmer.
The air itself seemed to bend, a soft ripple like heat over asphalt. A doorway, invisible unless you were looking for it.
He stopped a few steps away, taking it in. The sight never really got old.For all the danger and chaos that came with the other side, it was still… beautiful.
Ethan adjusted the strap of his bag, eyes tracing the faint distortion. "Back to work," he said under his breath, half-smiling. "No rest for idiots like me."
A breeze moved through the clearing, tugging lightly at his hair. He stood there for a long moment, just breathing, letting the calm of it sink in.
There were no goodbyes to make, no explanations to leave behind. When he came back, everything here would resume exactly where it stopped. Samantha would be feeding her cat, the coffee shop would still smell like cinnamon, the city would hum like nothing ever happened.
That thought was both comforting and strange.Like knowing you could hit pause on your own life and walk back into it whenever you wanted.
He took one last look around. The forest swayed gently, quiet and patient.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's see what's waiting this time."
He stepped forward.
The air shimmered brighter as he moved closer, the hum deepening into a low vibration he could feel in his chest. Light rippled outward, spreading from the center like water disturbed by a stone.
Ethan exhaled once, steady, and walked through.
The world folded around him — sound fading, color bending, every sense twisting for half a heartbeat — and then everything snapped back.
The air was different.He could tell before he even opened his eyes. It was warmer, heavier, thick with mana and something wilder. The scent hit next — stone, moss, metal. The unmistakable tang of magic.
When he looked up, the sky above was brighter than it ever got on Earth. A deeper blue, almost glowing. In the distance, he could already see the outer walls of Orario rising like a crown over the plains.
He smiled. "Home sweet chaos."
He crouched down, brushing his fingers against the grass. The soil here pulsed faintly under his touch — alive in a way the Earth never was. Every breath carried power. Every sound felt sharper.
He tightened the strap of his bag and started toward the city. His boots left shallow prints in the dirt as he walked.
It was strange how natural it felt to be back. Like his body had been waiting for this. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of distant bells from the Guild, the faint chatter of adventurers preparing for their dives into the dungeon, the metallic scent of sharpened weapons carried by the wind.
Somewhere beyond those walls, the Dungeon breathed — restless and vast. It was calling him again.
He adjusted his dagger, the familiar weight of it settling comfortably at his hip.
"Let's see what kind of trouble you've been cooking up while I was gone," he muttered.
A faint chuckle escaped him, and for the first time in weeks, it felt real.
The walk to the city gates took longer than he remembered. Maybe because he kept stopping — to take in the view, to listen, to let the pulse of Orario fill the empty corners in his chest.
When he finally reached the main road leading into the city, a gust of wind rolled past, carrying the scent of smoke and food stalls. Somewhere, a group of adventurers laughed loudly. It sounded like home.
Ethan paused at the threshold, looking back just once. Behind him, the horizon was empty — the world he'd left behind frozen in silence.
He turned back toward the gates and smiled faintly.
"Alright then," he said softly. "Let's get back to it."
He stepped forward, disappearing into the noise and light of Orario.
The peace was gone.The hunt was waiting.
---
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