He reached the other side and stopped beneath a streetlamp. The breeze was cooler here, the scent of asphalt and damp leaves sharper somehow. He adjusted his bag and reached into his pocket.
His fingers fumbled.
"…Huh?"
He checked the other pocket. Nothing. Just his phone.
Ren blinked and patted himself down. Then he glanced over his shoulder.
There, right in the middle of the road, lay his earbud case. One of the earbuds had rolled a little off to the side like it was trying to escape traffic entirely.
He sighed.
"Seriously?" he muttered.
The street still looked empty. No cars in sight. Just a long stretch of pavement and the hum of distant city noise.
Ren turned and jogged a few steps onto the road, crouching down in the middle of the lane.
He picked up the case first, then reached for the rogue earbud.
Just as his fingers closed around it—
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK.
Dazzling white. A thud.
It happened so fast, he barely registered it.
Actually… what even happened?
Ren was lying down. Staring at the ever-so-clear sky. It looked… nice.
'Wait. Where are the clouds? Weren't there clouds just no?' Ren thought.
He groaned softly as his senses returned one by one.
The first thing he noticed was the texture beneath him — rough, uneven. Gravel. Not the smooth pavement of the road. His fingers twitched against the stones, and he sat up slowly.
He looked around.
He was sitting in the middle of what looked like a long, gravel path lined with tall, perfectly trimmed hedges. Each bush was shaped almost too precisely, like nature had been put on a leash. The sky above him was a deep, serene blue — not a single cloud in sight — and the air smelled faintly of lavender and something sweet.
The trees beyond the hedge were tall and dense, their trunks smooth and bark pale, almost silver in color. Birds chirped gently, but even their calls felt… refined.
Ren slowly brushed himself off, still dazed.
The clothes on his body didn't feel like his uniform anymore. The fabric was softer, looser — more like some kind of robe or tunic. He glanced down.
'Heck. These aren't my clothes.'
And were those… boots?
"…What the hell."
He turned in place, trying to get his bearings — and that's when he saw it.
A mansion. No — a manor. Towering behind him like something pulled out of a fantasy novel and then polished to perfection.
Massive wrought-iron gates stood just a few feet away, intricately designed with swirling gold inlays that shimmered in the sunlight. Beyond them, the mansion rose from the earth like royalty. Three stories tall, with ivory-white walls and high-arched windows framed in dark wood. Vines clung to the walls like decorations rather than weeds, carefully trained to add charm without chaos.
The roof tiles were a deep midnight blue, clean and almost glimmering, and a tall spire jutted from the left wing, complete with a glass observatory dome. A wide marble staircase led up to a grand entrance flanked by statues — humanoid figures holding swords and staffs, frozen mid-battle, looking far too dramatic for simple decoration.
Ren just… stared.
"…Okay," he muttered.
He took a few cautious steps toward the gate, fingers brushing the bars.
The air here was too clean. The world too vivid. It didn't just look different — it felt different. Like he'd stepped into someone else's dream.
...
..
.
Ren was still trying to make sense of his surroundings when the gates creaked open.
He jumped.
Two men stepped through. Tall. Armored. Swords at their hips. Their boots crunched against the gravel with military precision.
They looked straight at him.
Ren's heart did a backflip. He took half a step back.
'Oh god oh god oh god—'
They didn't draw their swords. Didn't yell. Didn't demand anything. Just stared for a moment, like they were trying to confirm something.
Then, to Ren's utter confusion, both of them bowed in unison.
"???? ??turneh, seer," one of them said. The words sounded warped, like they were echoing through a dream. Almost-English. Almost understandable.
The second man nodded, straightening his back. "Wee'll bay tayking our leave."
And just like that, they walked past him — calm.
Ren stood frozen.
He hadn't said a word. His brain was still processing. Swords. Bowing. Sir? What the hell was that?
He turned his head slightly as the two men disappeared down the gravel path behind him, boots crunching in rhythm, like they hadn't just greeted a confused teenager lying in a robe next to a mansion gate.
Ren blinked.
"…Huh?"
He looked down at himself again. Yep. Still wearing the tunic. Still no idea what was going on.
This was starting to feel dangerously like the start of an isekai.
"Sire!" a voice called from within the gates. "Why are you here? Punishing your tender skin in this scorching sun? Please, come inside!" a man said, approaching fast.
Ren squinted toward the voice. The man was walking through the now-open gates with surprising speed, his polished shoes barely making a sound on the gravel.
He looked... exactly like someone who'd be labeled "butler". Tall, lean, and unnervingly graceful, with slicked-back silver hair that seemed immune to the breeze. His sharp jawline and aquiline nose gave him an almost aristocratic air, and his monocle gleamed as he moved. He wore a crisp black tailcoat with silver embroidery at the cuffs and collar, a white vest underneath, and a pocket watch chain glinting from his waist. There wasn't a speck of dust on him.
The man came to a stop before Ren and gave a slight bow — not as deep as the guards', but far more precise. "Sire," he said again, his voice crisp and oddly soothing, "forgive me for not arriving sooner. If I may be so bold... this is hardly a suitable place for you to linger."
Ren opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
The butler tilted his head politely, as if expecting no response anyway. "Shall I escort you inside?"
Ren nodded numbly, staring at the man. Bewildered, to say the least.
The man turned and began walking toward the gates. Ren hesitated a moment before following, his boots crunching awkwardly behind the butler's silent glide.
'What the fuck is going on?'