Elliot slouched on his bed, the glow of his bedside lamp casting long shadows across his cluttered room. Open books lay scattered around him—fantasy novels, classic tales of adventure, and a few unfinished attempts at writing his own stories. He'd always dreamed of something greater, something far beyond the humdrum repetition of his life.
He sighed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow was another Monday, another round of boring lectures, forced small talk, and a job he didn't care about. Life felt like a treadmill—exhausting yet going nowhere.
Grabbing his latest read, The Lord of Mysteries, he flipped through the pages. It was the one place he felt alive: stories where gods walked among mortals, secret pathways held unimaginable power, and even the smallest actions could shape destinies. But as the clock ticked closer to midnight, even that escape felt hollow.
Elliot closed the book, staring at the cover. "If only I could live in a world like this," he muttered.
The words hung in the air, unspoken wishes given form. A sudden chill swept through the room, making him shiver.
"Must've left the window open," he mumbled, pulling the blanket over himself.
As his eyelids grew heavy, a faint sound broke the silence.
Ha... ha... ha...
It was a low, mirthless laugh, distant yet oddly familiar. Elliot's body froze as he strained to locate its source. It wasn't coming from outside—it was inside his head.
Before he could react, a deep voice echoed in the stillness:
"So be it."
The words reverberated through his skull, sinking into him like iron chains. His heart pounded, and the edges of his vision blurred. He tried to sit up, to move, but the world melted away into darkness.
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Elliot's eyes shot open.
The first thing he noticed was the smell—thick and acrid, a mix of soot and damp cobblestones. His senses sharpened as he took in his surroundings: an alleyway, narrow and dimly lit by a flickering gas lamp. The buildings loomed over him, their soot-streaked bricks stretching into the night.
This wasn't his room.
Panic gripped him as he scrambled to his feet, brushing off dirt from his unfamiliar clothes—a tattered coat and worn boots that smelled like mildew. He reached for his phone, only to find nothing in his pockets.
"What the hell?" he whispered. His breath fogged in the chill air, visible against the faint light of the lamp.
Voices carried through the night, muffled but growing louder. Two men emerged from the far end of the alley, their faces shadowed. One carried a lantern, its orange glow highlighting a wicked grin.
"Look what we've got here," the taller one said, his accent sharp and clipped. "A lost pup."
Elliot backed away, his mind racing. He felt something hard underfoot and glanced down. A discarded iron rod lay on the ground. He snatched it up instinctively, the cold metal steadying his trembling hands.
"Stay back!" he warned, though his voice cracked.
The shorter man laughed. "Feisty, eh? Haven't seen you around. New to Backlund, are we?"
"Backlund?" The name struck him like a thunderbolt. His heart skipped a beat.
No way... This isn't real. It can't be.
Before he could process, the taller man lunged. Elliot swung the rod, the clang of metal against bone reverberating in the alley. The man howled in pain, clutching his arm.
"Bastard!" he spat, lunging again.
Instinct took over. Elliot ducked and ran, the world around him a blur. The narrow streets twisted and turned, smoke from distant chimneys stinging his eyes. His lungs burned as he pushed himself harder, adrenaline driving him forward.
Finally, he stumbled into an open square, collapsing onto the cold cobblestones. He gasped for breath, glancing around. The square was eerily quiet, lit by gas lamps and framed by towering buildings that felt both alien and familiar.
Then he saw it.
High above the city, suspended in the night sky, hung a crimson moon. Its glow bathed the square in an eerie, otherworldly light.
Elliot's breath caught in his throat. There was no mistaking it. He was in the world of The Lord of Mysteries.
The laugh echoed again in his mind, softer this time but no less haunting.
"So be it."
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Hey guys, this is my first book, so I'd really appreciate any advice or feedback you have! I'm looking to improve and make this story as enjoyable as possible. Please show your support with power stones if you can—it means a lot to me! Thanks for reading!