Neron Blackheard sat on a rickety chair in front of an old computer, its screen flickering softly, reflecting in his dull eyes. The room was silent, interrupted only by the occasional clatter of keys as Neron apathetically browsed through web pages. He was 24, but felt as though life had long passed him by.
He was a tall, thin man with black hair that rarely saw a brush. His face, though young, showed signs of fatigue and indifference; dark circles under his eyes hinted at long nights spent in front of the screen, and his pale lips often remained closed, as if they hadn't had anything important to say in a long time. Neron wasn't particularly handsome, but neither was he ugly—just average, someone who would easily disappear in a crowd. His thin, unmuscular body seemed to speak of a life devoid of physical activity, lived more in his mind than in reality.
A few months ago, he lost his job at the factory where he had worked for three years. They fired him without explanation, and he didn't even protest. He might have even felt relieved, as the monotony of those days had increasingly weighed on him. Since then, he had been in a strange limbo, with no plans for the future, living day by day. Mostly, he helped his parents around the house, doing simple tasks that didn't require much effort. Occasionally, he took on quick jobs, like helping out at the local woodworking shop. But such work lasted less than a week and provided only a minimal cash boost.
Neron got up from the computer, stretched lazily, and headed to the kitchen. There, as usual, he met his mother.
"Neron, have you thought about looking for a new job?" she asked, slicing vegetables for soup.
He sighed softly as he walked to the fridge. This question had been asked of him many times, and longer answers didn't make sense anymore.
Neron pulled out the leftovers from yesterday's dinner and started heating them in the microwave.
"I've looked," he lied unconvincingly. "Without a driver's license, finding a job is difficult, Mom..."
His mother looked at him with concern but said nothing more. She recognized that tone and knew that discussing the topic wouldn't yield any results.
His father appeared in the doorway, wiping his forehead with a work-stained hand.
"Maybe you could help me with the roof instead of staring at the computer all day," his father suggested. "I'll finish today, and an extra pair of hands would be useful."
"Sure, I'll come right over," Neron replied, though he knew the roof would look exactly the same as it had for years before they started repairing it.
In the afternoon, after a few hours of working under the sun, he returned to his room, more mentally than physically exhausted. Lying on his bed, he began scrolling through his phone but quickly tossed it aside. Nothing he found on the internet could pull him out of his lethargy. The world seemed so predictable, so meaningless. Everything was dull and boring.
"Is this it?" he thought, staring at the ceiling. "Is this all there is to life? Sometimes I feel like an NPC in The Sims, one that no one wants to interact with. Damn."
Tired, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
But it wasn't even a few seconds before he awoke suddenly. Neron felt a chill under his back and moisture in the air. He was no longer in his room. He stood up quickly, drenched in sweat, and the sight that met his eyes left him stunned.
Neron was lying in a ditch by a busy street, surrounded by a misty, unfamiliar landscape. The sound of the city filled the air, but it wasn't the city he knew. His gaze settled on tall towers in the distance and streets populated by figures dressed in strange attire he had never seen before. It was as if he had been transported back to the Middle Ages and found himself in a European medieval town.
He stood up slowly, trying to comprehend what had happened. Where was he? Was this a dream, or something more? One thing was certain—the reality he knew was gone, and he had been thrown into a world that at first seemed even more distant from his imagination than anything else. But maybe, just maybe, in this strange place, he would find something that could pull him out of his apathy.
Neron stood still for a moment, disoriented and terrified. Around him, there was movement—people walked the streets, but not only people. Amid the crowd, he noticed beings he had only known from books and stories: slender, tall elves with long, silvery hair and beastmen whose features resembled wild animals like wolves or foxes. However, what caught his attention was their attire and the expressions on their faces—all of them wore steel collars around their necks, and their bodies were clad in loose, one-piece garments that contrasted with the rich robes of the humans who accompanied them.
Noblemen dressed in silks and velvets led their "companions" on short chains, as if they were nothing more than servants. Neron felt his heart race—terror mixed with a strange excitement. The world he had entered was completely different from the one he knew. It was wild, mysterious, but also brutal.
Passersby walked by him without a word, but their gazes were full of contempt. Neron could feel the stares of people who wrinkled their noses in disgust, as if his presence was ruining their day. After a moment, he realized why: he was wearing nothing but a pair of Hawaiian shorts. Though the tropical patterns might have made him look like an eccentric nobleman, the fact that he had nothing else on and that his only garment was stained with dark patches from the dirt he had been lying in made him look far from dignified. It would take a good scrubbing with water and soap to clean the mess, and it was now clear to him why people were glaring at him with such disdain.
Neron took an uncertain step forward, feeling as if he were walking on thin ice. Everything in this world seemed foreign, threatening, but at the same time, it awakened a curiosity in him that he hadn't felt in years. This place was terrifying, but Neron sensed that he might find here something that had been missing in his life—meaning, the very thing he had been searching for so long.
"Shit... I need to get out of here, or they might arrest me for indecent behavior. And here, that could end really badly..."
Seeing a dangerous, dark alleyway behind him that gave him an even greater sense of threat than blending into the crowd in his current state, Neron hesitated.
Despite the fear, Neron stepped into the dark alley, scanning the area for potential dangers.