Su Ming flipped through the fragile pages of the ancient book, its yellowed parchment cracking slightly at the edges. The faint scent of musty paper filled the air. The characters scrawled on the final page were a strange amalgamation of symbols—neither Chinese nor any known language he'd seen before.
The book itself was unremarkable. What caught his attention was the small bronze ring pressed between the pages, its intricate carvings shimmering faintly under the desk lamp. It looked old, impossibly old, as if it belonged to some forgotten civilization.
Su Ming had bought the book for next to nothing at a dusty antique shop. He wasn't a collector, but something about the ring had called to him. Now, as he stared at it in the dim light, the carvings seemed almost alive, shifting in patterns he couldn't quite discern.
Out of curiosity, he slipped the ring onto his finger. A chill ran through him, sharp and immediate, like a gust of icy wind cutting through his bones.
"What the hell?" he muttered, trying to shake off the sensation. But even as he pulled the ring off, the cold lingered, a faint pulse echoing in his fingertips.
The desk lamp flickered twice before going out, plunging the room into darkness.
Su Ming froze. His apartment was silent except for the hum of distant traffic. And yet, he felt it—a presence. Something ancient and vast.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice trembling.
No answer came, but the air grew heavier, thick with the scent of burning metal. When he turned back toward the ring, its carvings now glowed faintly, as if responding to an unseen force.
The floor beneath him began to tremble.
At first, he thought it was an earthquake. The shaking was subtle, almost imperceptible, but quickly grew violent. His desk rattled, the book fell to the floor, and cracks splintered across the walls.
Before he could react, a searing light erupted from the bronze ring, blinding and all-encompassing. He felt himself being pulled—no, dragged—into a void. The world around him dissolved into nothingness, replaced by a swirling maelstrom of light and shadow.
When Su Ming awoke, he was lying on his back in a field of soft grass. The air was crisp, almost too pure, and carried the faint scent of wildflowers.
Above him, two suns hung in the sky, their combined light casting the landscape in hues of gold and crimson. Around him stretched an endless expanse of green, broken only by distant forests and jagged mountains.
"This… this isn't Earth," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
As he struggled to his feet, his body felt weak, as though it had been drained of all energy. But before he could take a step, a guttural growl broke the serene silence.
He turned toward the sound and froze.
A massive creature emerged from the nearby treeline, its hulking form covered in stone-like scales. Its eyes glowed a deep, menacing red, and smoke curled from its nostrils. Each step it took left gouges in the earth.
Su Ming's mind raced. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to obey. The creature snarled, its jaws parting to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
Just as the beast lunged, Su Ming's hand brushed against something on the ground. The bronze ring.
It burned as he gripped it, and a voice—deep and commanding—echoed in his mind:
"Bearer of the ring, you have crossed the threshold. Your journey begins now."
Before Su Ming could comprehend the words, a brilliant golden flame erupted from his palm. The fire shot toward the beast, striking it square in the chest.
The creature roared in agony as the flames consumed it, reducing its massive body to ash in moments.
Su Ming stood there, panting, his heart racing. The bronze ring now glowed faintly in his hand, warm and unyielding.
He looked around at the alien landscape, the twin suns glaring down at him like silent witnesses.
"Where the hell am I?" he whispered, clutching the ring tightly.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew this was just the beginning.