Arin pushed the creaky gate open, stepping into the yard of what once was his sanctuary—a house that had been brimming with warmth and love.
"I'm home," he called out into the echoing silence. The sound of his own voice unsettled him. No one answered. Of course, no one ever would.
The house, which had once echoed with laughter and bustling energy, now stood as a monument to loneliness. Its walls had absorbed years of memories but seemed to exhale only gloom. The faint drip of a leaky faucet in the kitchen and the occasional whistle of the wind were the only companions to the oppressive silence.
Arin stood in the doorway, scanning the living room. He had kept it clean and orderly, just as his grandfather liked it. But no amount of tidying could bring back the man who had been his anchor in life.
As he walked to the living room, his eyes fell on the worn armchair by the window. He could almost see his grandfather sitting there, flipping through an old book, or tinkering with his glasses while muttering about the stubbornness of the universe.
He allowed himself a bittersweet smile. "You always made things better, Grandpa. Even when the world felt too big."
Memories flooded his mind. The afternoons spent learning how to build birdhouses. The long nights sitting under the stars, where his grandfather would share stories of constellations and tales of distant worlds. His deep voice, filled with wisdom and warmth, would resonate in the quiet night:
"Arin, the universe is vast. You're but a tiny part of it, but that doesn't mean you're insignificant. Remember, the smallest star can still guide a lost sailor."
Arin's throat tightened. His grandfather had been his guide, his north star. And now he was gone.
He shook his head, snapping back to the present. "No time for this," he muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. He carefully set up the small altar he had prepared.
The portrait of his grandfather took center stage, his face frozen in time, smiling warmly as if still encouraging Arin to move forward. Eastern decorations surrounded the portrait, flanked by offerings of fruits and incense sticks.
Arin knelt before the altar, lighting the incense sticks and bowing his head. The familiar scent filled the room, bringing with it a wave of peace and nostalgia.
"Grandpa," he began softly, his voice trembling. "I hope you're at peace, wherever you are. I'll keep trying... I promise."
Just as he leaned forward for a deep bow, a sudden vibration in his pocket shattered the moment.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Arin frowned. "You've got to be kidding me. Who the hell calls at a time like this?"
He reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, irritation giving way to confusion as the screen lit up with unfamiliar symbols.
-[Ding!]
-[Transportation Location Finalized.]
-[Sending Host to Broken Star Dimension: 657:886.1.]
-[Countdown for transportation commencing.]
-[Host's first transportation shall begin in…]
-[10]
Arin's heart thumped painfully against his ribs. His eyes widened at the cascading text on the screen. "What… is this?" he whispered, panic creeping into his voice.
-[9]
-[8]
The text scrolled too fast for him to comprehend. A sense of dread washed over him as though an invisible force was pressing him into place.
"Hello?" he said, his voice trembling. He tapped the screen furiously. "Is this some kind of joke? Hello! Can you hear me?"
-[7]
-[6]
"Stop! Whatever this is, just STOP!"
When the countdown hit -[4], Arin, overwhelmed with fear, threw the phone onto the couch as though it had burned him.
But no sooner had it left his grasp than the device reappeared in his hand, humming with an almost mocking persistence.
-[3]
-[2]
"No, no, no! What is happening?!"
-[1]
The screen flashed blindingly, and the voice of the system finally spoke:
[Now Beginning the Dimensional Transportation.]