The roar of my bike echoed through the empty streets as I sped down the road, the cool night air whipping against my face. Everything was normal—until it wasn't.
A sudden scream cut through the night.
I barely had time to react before my eyes locked onto a familiar face from college—some guy I barely knew. He stood frozen in the middle of the street, eyes wide with panic, a strange yellow circle of light glowing beneath his feet. He looked like someone who had just realized they were standing on a landmine.
"What the hell? Did I drink too much?" I muttered, blinking rapidly.
Then the idiot jumped off his bicycle and ran straight toward me.
And the glowing circle moved with him.
In the split second before impact, I realized two things:
One, this was definitely not an alcohol-induced hallucination.
Two, I was screwed.
The moment we collided, the glowing circle flared blindingly bright.
Then—darkness.
I woke up falling.
Wind roared past me, my stomach twisted into knots, and my limbs flailed uselessly. The world spun, and for a terrifying moment, I could see it—a city beneath me, sprawling, unfamiliar, and getting closer.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't my world.
Before I could even process what was happening, the fall ended in a bone-rattling crash.
Then—pain.
When I finally regained full consciousness, I was sitting in a police station.
My body ached all over, my head throbbed, and to make things worse, my face still stung from the beatings I had already received.
The dimly lit cell had five people inside, including me.
The first was a tall, muscular guy sitting across from me, arms folded and watching me with mild amusement. Then there were two thuggish-looking guys beside him, looking like they worked for him. Lastly, a blond-haired guy with sharp features sat silently in the corner.
The police officers outside the cell weren't speaking in any language I recognized. And yet, I understood every word.
"Where did you come from, shorty?"
The voice came from the tall guy across from me.
"What? What did you just say?" I asked.
"Where are you from?" he repeated.
"Why do you care?" I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
I was far too confused to deal with this properly.
The police officers had called us "slum rats." Their uniforms were different from anything I had seen before. The language was foreign, but I could understand it. And above all, I had literally fallen from the sky.
There were only two explanations.
One, I was in another world.
Two, I was hallucinating.
A sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Hey! Boss is asking you something!" shouted one of the thugs.
I ignored him and turned back to the tall guy.
"What's your name?" I asked.
He smirked. "Karl. And yours?"
"Nitish."
"So tell me, Karl, are they going to release us or what?" I asked.
Karl shrugged. "Who knows?"
I frowned. I needed answers. But I couldn't just ask if this was a fantasy world or if magic existed. That would sound insane.
I decided to test the waters.
"Have you ever seen a dragon?" I asked casually.
The reaction was immediate.
The blond-haired guy stiffened. His breath hitched, and his face turned pale.
"What… what did you just say?" he whispered.
I tilted my head. "Dragon. You know, big lizard, breathes fire—"
"I know what a dragon is!" he snapped.
The room fell silent.
Karl smirked. "He's asking if we've ever seen one before."
The blond-haired guy took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"I was seven when it happened," he began. "Our house was in the 39th district—not exactly rich, but not the slums either. My father worked for a noble house, so we had second-class citizenship. It wasn't a bad life… until that night."
His fingers curled into fists.
"There was a gate break. I remember it like it was yesterday. The sky turned red before we even heard the roar. My mother grabbed me, screaming for my father. Then the ground trembled, and the houses around us exploded into flames.
"The dragon came down like a storm of death. Its wings blocked out the moon, its eyes glowed like molten gold. People ran. Some fought back. It didn't matter.
"The fire consumed everything. I can still hear the cries, the crackling of burning wood, the smell of ash choking the air. My father tried to hold it off… but he never came back.
"My mother pushed me into a cellar, told me to stay quiet. And then… she was gone too."
Silence.
"When I crawled out hours later, there was nothing left—just bones and smoke rising into the cold morning air."
His voice was steady, but his clenched fists trembled.
Karl sighed. "Yeah… you had it rough, man."
I sat there, absorbing everything.
This wasn't just another world.
This world had gates.
It had dragons.
And, based on how the police had treated us, it had a system where slum people weren't even considered human.
I exhaled slowly.
This world… might be more dangerous than I thought.
And right now?
I was just another slum rat.