Liam had always believed that everything could be explained. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not easily. But eventually—given enough time, enough knowledge, enough patience—everything would make sense.
That belief was the only thing that kept him grounded after his parents disappeared. No bodies. No signs of struggle. No message. Just… gone.
The police called it a "missing persons case." His relatives called it "unfortunate." His neighbors whispered things like "they probably ran away" or "something must have happened." Liam didn't believe any of it.
Because nothing about it made sense.
And if something didn't make sense, then there had to be an answer.
That was how it started. Books about myths. Old religions. Rituals. Forgotten languages. Stories about people who claimed to have seen things beyond the normal world. At first, it was just curiosity. Then it became an obsession.
The street market buzzed with noise—vendors shouting, people bargaining, footsteps echoing against uneven pavement. The smell of grilled food and dust filled the air, but Liam barely noticed any of it. He moved through the crowd like a ghost, eyes unfocused, mind elsewhere.
Another dead end.
The old bookstore had nothing new. Just the same recycled myths and poorly translated texts. Useless. All of it.
"…There has to be something real," he muttered.
Something that could explain what happened. Something that could bring them back.
A voice suddenly cut through the noise beside him.
"Looking for something?"
Liam stopped. Not because it was loud—but because it didn't belong. It was too clear, too calm, like the world had lowered its volume just for it.
He turned—and his chest tightened.
A stall stood where there hadn't been one before. A small wooden table sat squeezed between two shops, its surface unnaturally clean compared to everything around it. Behind it stood an old man.
Thin. Slightly hunched. White hair, not weak but aged. His eyes were sharp—too sharp. They didn't look at Liam.
They looked through him.
"…No," Liam said after a pause. "Just passing by."
The old man smiled. It wasn't friendly. But it wasn't hostile either. It was the kind of smile someone makes when they already know how things will end.
"You've been passing by for a long time."
Liam frowned. "What does that mean?"
Instead of answering, the old man placed something on the table.
A crystal ball.
Clear. Perfect. Flawless. It reflected the market—but something felt off, like the reflection lagged behind reality... like it was delayed.
Liam stared at it longer than he intended.
"…It's just a decoration," he said quietly.
"Is it?" the old man replied
Before Liam could respond, the old man placed another object beside it.
A book.
thin yet Worn out the book no title.
"This comes with it." the old man said
"I'm not buying anything," Liam said immediately—but he didn't move. His eyes stayed on the book.
It felt… familiar. Not because he had seen it before. But because it felt like he should have.
"You've been looking for answers," the old man continued.
"A lot of people are." Liam replied
"But not like you." The old man replied
Silence settled between them. The noise of the market faded into the background.
"…What do you know?" Liam asked.
The old man tilted his head slightly. "Enough to know that what you're looking for cannot be found in ordinary places."
Liam exhaled slowly. "Then you're wasting your time. I've heard that a hundred times."
"Have you?" The old man's gaze didn't waver.
"You stopped searching for explanations. Now you're searching for miracles." the old man continued.
Liam's heart skipped.
"…You don't know anything about me."
The old man didn't answer. He simply pushed the crystal ball forward ans said.
"Take it."
Liam shook his head. "I said I'm not—"
"Your parents would have been interested."
Everything stopped. The words didn't echo. They didn't need to.
"…What did you say?" Liam's voice dropped.
The old man remained calm and with no hesitation he repeated.
"Take it."
Liam's mind screamed at him. This was wrong. Suspicious. None of this made sense.
But beneath all of that—There was something else. Hope and before he could stop himself, his hand moved.
Liam didn't remember how he paid. Or if he even did. The next thing he knew, he was already walking home, the crystal ball in one hand and the book tucked under his arm.
The world felt normal again. Too normal.
"…What was that?" he muttered.
He turned back to see that the stall was gone as if it had never existed.
Back in his room, everything felt quiet but something was different Liam placed the crystal ball on his desk. Then the book. He stared at them, waiting for something to happen nothing did.
"…I'm seriously losing it," he sighed.
He picked up the crystal ball. It felt… wrong.… it felt otherworldly like it didn't belong in this world. With his other hand, he opened the book.
His breath caught.
The pages were filled with symbols. Not letters. Not any language he recognized. At first glance, it looked like meaningless scribbles—but the longer he stared, the more they began to feel familiar.
"…What is this?" he whispered.
His eyes moved slowly across the page. Carefully and then—something shifted.
The symbols began to make sense. Not clearly but enough.Like remembering something he had never learned.
"…Ze… ro… ta…"
The word slipped out from his mouth before he even realized it. And the moment it did—
everything changed.
The air grew heavy. The lights flickered violently. The walls twisted, stretching unnaturally.
"Wait—"
Liam stumbled back.The floor vanished beneath him. The world shattered like glass
And then He fell or maybe he was pulled or maybe—He had never been standing at all.
When Liam opened his eyes, there was nothing. No room. No walls. No ceiling. No sound.
Only white.
An endless expanse of white mist stretched in every direction. Thick, quite, and suffocating.
"…Where… am I?"
His voice echoed faintly, as if the space itself didn't want to carry the sound.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe. Not because there was no air—But because something about this place felt fundamentally wrong.
And then—he saw it a throne
A Massive and Ancient.
It stood alone in the distance, surrounded by shattered pillars frozen in a moment of ruin.
Liam stepped forward without thinking. Each step felt strange, like walking on something that shouldn't support him.
As he got closer, he looked down—And froze.
It wasn't ground, It wasn't stone, It was—
Stars... No… More like The cosmos itself.
An endless void of swirling light stretched beneath the throne, as if it stood above the universe.
"…This isn't real…"
But even as he said it, he knew—It was more real than anything he had ever felt.
A pressure settled over him. Like the space itself was watching... Judging... Waiting.
"…What is this place?"
No answer came. The mist shifted slightly. Then—The space trembled Liam's breath slowed.
For the first time—
Liam felt it both fear and curiosity but most important of all a sense of oppression, a sense of how small he truly is and how vast the universe really is.
The mist twisted. And then a round table formed in front of the ancient throne and as the mist twisted and contracted it formed a book the same old book he had gained from the old man And the same one that let him arrive in this space.
Then—
A book appeared. The same book It floated gently before landing on the table.
Liam stepped closer. The book opened on its own.
The pages flipped then stopped Words began to form.
"First observer has entered…"
"Condition met…"
"Recording begins…"
A pause.Then—
"Welcome, Liam."