The siren of a patrol car slices through the silence like a sharp knife. In the middle of Caracas's rainy night, the blue and red echo bounces off wet facades, warping the shadows. The rain falls with almost violent insistence, forming puddles that explode beneath every hurried step.
It's midnight in Las Mercedes, a middle-class area that should be asleep by now… but not tonight.
Between narrow alleys, under a gray sky torn by lightning, a man runs.
He runs like his life depends on it.
His breath is a harsh, uneven gasp as water streams down his face, hidden beneath a black cap. Jay Baker—though no one could recognize him at that moment—wears an outfit that doesn't belong in this city: Full tactical gear, a burgundy hoodie under a black vest with multiple pockets, reinforced cargo pants, and combat boots splashing water with every stride.
A black pistol is gripped firmly in his right hand. It's not a weapon for intimidation—it's a weapon for survival.
Though he's young, barely 18, Jay is covered in scratches, fresh bruises, and red stains the rain tries to wash away. His left sleeve is torn, and part of his tactical vest bears a deep impact—evidence of a projectile stopped by either luck or good equipment.
"Tsk… Are they seriously still chasing me?" he spits through clenched teeth, more irritated than scared, though worry creeps into his breath.
Bullets whistle nearby. Not one, but several. They slice through the air like deadly needles, so close they sound like giant insects buzzing past his head.
PANG! PANG! PANG!
Sparks fly as they strike the alley walls.
Jay doesn't look back. He can't afford to. Every muscle in his body moves with the desperate urgency of someone who's already used up all his luck for the day.
But as he turns a corner, he runs into the inevitable. Five hooded police officers wait at the end of the alley, weapons raised, aiming at him through the rain.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Jay mutters, stopping for the first time.
He's trapped. No way forward. The bullets behind are ready to claim him.
To his left, a wall nearly three meters high. The rain makes it look taller, slicker, more impossible… but it's the only option.
"Well… let's see if I've got any miracles left." He smirks sarcastically, though his fingers tremble.
He launches himself.
His hands slam against the wall's edge harder than he intended. Pain shoots through his wrists, but he holds on. The officers fire without hesitation.
PANG! PANG! PANG!
Chunks of cement fly past his face. But no bullet hits him.
He doesn't notice—too focused on climbing with the last of his strength… and so he doesn't see what's on the other side.
When he falls, his voice is swallowed in a rough grunt.
The world spins. The impact on his back knocks the air out of him, stealing even the strength to curse.
"Ugh… D-damn it…"
He lies on the ground for a few seconds, under the rain, gasping, vision blurred. He barely manages to get on his knees. Every muscle protests. His wounds burn. His sight warps.
Staggering, he takes a few steps… and slips.
He would've landed face-first if not for his hand stopping against a cold puddle that splashes his face.
This is it, he thinks. The officers' footsteps echo in the distance. They didn't come over the wall; maybe he took a fall they weren't willing to risk.
Jay takes a deep breath. One last gulp of air before surrendering.
But then…
Something appears before him.
A butterfly.
Not a normal butterfly.
It glows with an intense, almost ethereal blue. Its shape seems fragmented, as if made of shattered glass or tiny pieces of a floating mosaic. And yet… it flutters its wings with impossible softness.
Jay blinks.
"What… the hell?"
The butterfly approaches. Slowly. As if it had chosen him.
He reaches out—not out of bravery, but pure confusion.
And when the insect touches the tip of his fingers…
The world vanishes.
A flash surrounds him. A light that burns, that blinds, that seems to pierce through him.
Suddenly, he's floating.
He no longer feels the cement, the rain, or the cold. His wounds don't hurt. His clothes feel weightless.
He opens his eyes.
And what he sees defies all logic.
Galaxies. Millions of stars stretching before him. The Milky Way shining like a luminous river across the darkness. Beside him, the massive spiral of Andromeda—though… something in it is broken. Tiny glowing fragments drift like crystals suspended in the void.
"This… this can't be real…"
But before he can even process it, Andromeda pulls him in.
Like an impossible gravitational force. Like it's calling him.
Jay is dragged at overwhelming speed. The cosmos stretches around him like lines of light. Unknown planets flash past. Stars are born and die in a blink. It's too much. Too much to comprehend.
"W-what—?!"
A crack appears before him. A black fissure, glowing inside, pulsing like a living portal.
And without giving him a choice, it swallows him.
•••
The scene shifts.
A warm sunrise lights up a tall mountain. The sun peeks out in golden and orange hues, spreading across a majestic landscape.
In the distance, in the valley, stands a kingdom: Towering walls, pointed spires, red-tiled roofs, narrow streets, and chimney smoke. A classic medieval design with a touch of fantasy.
There, high above, far from the kingdom, a similar crack opens in the sky. Not large—maybe the size of a football field. But enough.
A figure falls from it.
Jay hits the damp grass. But this time, he doesn't scream. Not because it doesn't hurt, but because… it doesn't.
He lies on his back, breathing deeply, staring at a pure blue sky—no storm clouds, no pollution, no sirens.
He slowly sits up.
And then he notices.
His body is intact. No cuts. No bruises. No blood.
His clothes are pristine. Not a stain, not a tear.
"What… the hell…?"
He touches his face. Then his chest. Then his arms. Everything is perfect.
He looks down and sees the kingdom in the distance. A landscape he'd only seen in video games or anime.
His heart pounds harder. A mix of fear, adrenaline, and pure excitement.
And then… he screams.
"IS THIS ANOTHER PLANET!? SERIOUSLYYYYY!?"
His voice echoes through the mountains. Nearby birds scatter and fly away.
Jay pants from the rush. After a moment, he places a hand on his chin and murmurs softly, as if recapping everything he's lived.
The rain. The chase. The butterfly. The galaxies. The fall. This place.
And reaching an inevitable conclusion, he mutters with a mix of sarcasm and resignation:
"…How cliché."
Jay remained seated on the grass for quite a while, his gaze lost in the direction of the distant kingdom. His breathing was starting to stabilize, but his mind wasn't. The mountain's cool breeze brushed his face as if trying to calm him after all the madness he'd just gone through… assuming he had actually gone through it and it wasn't just a bad dream or a blow to the head.
"Alright…" he murmured, placing a hand on his temple. "Let's recap. Caracas, a chase, cops, bullets… a glowing shattered blue butterfly, galaxies, Andromeda pulling me like a damn magnet… and now a medieval kingdom down there. Crystal clear, yep! Makes total sense…"
He rolled his eyes and let his back fall onto the grass, sighing in frustration. The cloud of doubt surrounding him was as thick as the morning fog covering the summit.
Jay slowly sat up, crossed his legs, and rested his elbows on his knees. There was one question he could actually answer:
"I'm in another world. Okay… now what?"
The first thing that came to mind was exactly what any isekai anime addict would think: a guild. There was always one. Always. It was like an unwritten rule of the genre.
"Okay, Jay, think… if this follows the cliché rules… I need to go to a guild… or a church… or straight to the castle if they want me to fight a Demon King or something," he said, waving his hand as if drawing imaginary lines in the air. "But… what if there are no guilds? What if that city isn't even human? What if they're… I don't know, people-with-eyes-on-their-foreheads or something?"
He stared at the kingdom, trying to deduce the presence of humanity from afar. The walls were tall, the roofs pointed, smoke rose from a few chimneys. It looked… normal. Too normal.
"Well… looks like human architecture. I guess. Maybe." He tapped his forehead lightly. "Great job, Jay. Real professional analysis."
He stood up, brushed off his pants, and gave one last glance at the sky, where the rift that had spat him out was closing like a slowly healing scar.
"Alright… let's see if someone down there can explain something," he said before starting to descend the mountain.
The path was steep and covered in tall grass. Each step crunched the damp blades as the sun finished rising on the horizon. The local birds—which looked like a mix between hawk and parrot—screeched with a strange sound, something between melodic and annoying.
Jay walked with one hand in his pocket and the other gripping the weapon he'd brought from his world. The tactical vest felt oddly light, as if the fall had somehow made it weigh less than usual.
"Tsk… at least I'm not unarmed," he muttered. "I've got the gun, the vest… and a few rounds. That's more than most protagonists get when they start. Lucky me."
Still, uncertainty gnawed at him.
"But seriously… shouldn't a tutorial pop up or something?" he raised his voice toward the void, hoping the universe would bother to answer. "A floating window, a guide fairy, an old ghost… something! A sword at least? A backpack with supplies? No? Nothing?"
Total silence.
Jay huffed, waving a hand in frustration.
"Of course, asking for a bit of basic help is too much for this universe. Perfect. Hope nothing here's strong… with my luck, I'll probably run into a flying dinosaur or something."
He kept descending, getting closer to the mountain's base. The kingdom looked bigger, more defined, more… real. And with every step, his heart beat a little faster—a mix of excitement, fear, and the uncomfortable feeling that the worst—or the most cliché—was just about to begin.