I move towards the alley's exit, my footsteps echoing on the wet cobblestones. When I finally emerge from the shadows, I am left breathless.
In front of me, towering buildings rise, their facades covered in gleaming glass that reflects the city lights.
The structures are incredibly modern, almost futuristic, with clean lines and perfect geometries that seem to defy gravity.
The sky, a deep and unnaturally clear blue, contrasts with the steel and glass of the buildings, creating a surreal effect.
One of the most imposing buildings is adorned with a massive LED screen that covers almost the entire main facade. On the screen, a newscast broadcasts high-definition images of events and news that I can't recognize.
The vivid colors of the projected images reflect off the wet pavement, as if the street itself were an integral part of that virtual reality, creating an almost hypnotic effect. The raindrops amplify this reflection, creating a dance of lights on the damp ground.
Around me, cars zip by with an unnatural smoothness, almost as if they were moving on invisible tracks. They emit no sound—not even the faintest hum of an engine or the screech of brakes.
It's as if they are silent spectators in a world that exists only for them. People walk quickly along the sidewalks, their faces hidden behind smartphone screens illuminated by an artificial glow, their bodies covered by colorful umbrellas that sway in rhythm with their steps.
The rain, now relentless, falls in a thin, almost ethereal cascade, flowing down raincoats and rubber boots without leaving a trace.
On the large screen, a journalist appears—a woman in an elegant dark gray professional outfit, holding sheets of notes in her hand. Despite her serious expression, her face exudes a cold, almost artificial beauty.
"Shocking news! The notorious Master of the Escape, a C-rank villain, has been captured by the B-rank hero Imprisoner."
Villain? Hero? Familiar terms, yes, but ones that belong to a world of fantasy, not the reality I knew. The words seem to echo in my head like distant sounds, struggling to make sense.
As I try to understand what I'm seeing, the giant screen shows a scene that defies all logic. A man appears in motion, leaping from one point to another in the scene as if using the power of teleportation—a power I had always associated with science fiction.
Above his head, a digital caption reveals his identity to the audience: Master of the Escape. As he desperately tries to flee, a barrier formed by an intricate weave of black chains blocks him. He turns with a desperate look, searching for a way out.
Behind him, an ominous figure appears—a woman dressed in black, with long dark hair that floats as if moved by an invisible wind.
Behind her, purple portals open, from which menacing chains emerge, ready to bind him or pierce his body. Above her, another name appears in glowing characters: Imprisoner.
Master of the Escape, powerless against Imprisoner 's strength, tries to teleport away, but once again collides with the chains, which trap him in an inescapable hold.
Imprisoner slowly turns, with a cold smile, and raises her right hand. The black chains, like obedient serpents, extend from the violet portal, wrapping around Master of the Escape's body.
He desperately tries to free himself, using his superpower, but it's useless: the chains seem to have the power to nullify every other ability, extinguishing any hope of escape.
"And with that, the thrilling battle between those with abilities concludes. Now, onto the next news story," announces the journalist in a neutral tone, as the screen dissolves into a new sequence of images.
I remain still, motionless, my heart still shaken by what I've just witnessed. The raindrops fall incessantly on my hair and clothes, now soaked through. It seems I've been mysteriously transported to another world; if I were to use a Japanese term, I'd say I've been thrust into an Isekai.