Author's Preface
The young man stared back at him with the same intensity as he did for the very first time. Without the loud, distracting birds, smoke, and inconceivable magic, his gaze was even more piercing.
"What happened, or rather what is happening, is never hard to explain." He said with a meaningful gaze. " Why, on the other hand, and how that's a different question."
Seemingly understanding the subtle meaning behind the question, Mark asked, "I think I just died? So, what will do just fine for now."
The young man studied him for a moment before reaching up and pulling back his hood.
He looked to be in his early twenties. Ink well, dark hair framed a narrow face, medium length as it obediently rested, while a faint mustache had just begun to emerge above his lips after a shave. The rest of his face remained clean-shaven, giving him a youthful appearance despite the calm, mature confidence with which he carried himself.
Yet the most striking thing about him was his eyes. A vivid green, a seemingly living green, clear and steady, they would linger on things a moment longer than normal.
He wasn't particularly handsome in the overwhelming sense, nor imposing. If anything, he appeared ordinary at first glance. But the longer Mark looked, the harder it became to ignore the quiet intensity behind this person. He should know, for he studied people for a living.
"You, Mr. Mark Robinson, are in another world. The Immortal realm, Vermillion Crown Empire, Rivergate city, to be exact." The young man informed with his deathly serious countenance, getting right into the heart of the dilemma Mark was going through, before a subtle smirk painted his face and an intense gleam flashed through his eyes. "A statement I never imagined I'd say without underlying mental problems. Exciting, isn't it?"
As if finding a sudden idea particularly funny, he continued with a light chuckle. "If we want to be even more specific. Flowing Gold District. As for this bridge...I don't actually know, I have only been in this city for a couple of days."
Unconcerned about the young man's musings, Mark was floored by a specific word.
"Another world?" Mark mumbled in repetition. It was unclear whether he was seeking clarification or just trying to process such a mind-boggling statement. As unbelievable as it sounded, deep down he knew it was the truth. His lips parted open once again, yet instead of a well-structured human language, what came out was a confused verbalized reflection of his own emotions, "Why, what...what... What is... How?"
The young man loudly blew air out of his nostrils in amusement, his smile deepening, "I thought we understood each other. You are delving into why and how territory for now, and of that, I am as clueless as you are."
"But I mean...but," Mark instinctively replied before his training and well-established persona kicked in, finding it unbecoming to show such an embarrassing expression to someone he didn't even know. Even though he was very certain that he was actually still not overreacting.
Those few seconds of calm were able to clear his mind, at least just a tiny bit, to ask the very most important question. "How do you know my name?"
Before the young man could answer, a rustling sound came from the side.
Mark could immediately tell both the nature and origin of the sound. There were footsteps on the grass, and they were coming from the direction of the stairs that led up to the bridge above them. His right hand instinctively reached for his holster, only to find a sheathed sword by his side, further convincing him of his new circumstances.
Apathetic to the unique struggles of a man who used guns as a weapon, he was murdered, transported into another world, and woke up in the middle of a massacre. A dark hooded figure slowly approached, heading straight towards them.
The young man, on the other hand, wasn't as tense as Mark was at that moment. He simply leaned against the wall, one knee bent, black boot pressed to the wall as the remaining one held the ground for balance. His eyes were intensely scanning the night sky before something on the wall opposite him caught his attention.
Someone had scrawled a crude graffiti symbol there: a tall, stick-like figure with arms spread wide and a circle for a head, repeated several times in overlapping lines. Most of it had faded, leaving only fragments of the original shape. A low hum of confusion echoed from his dried lips.
The young man's ease didn't bring much comfort to Mark; his whole attention was on the approaching figure whose hands suddenly moved. Mark's grip tightened on the sword handle, although he was sure that if a fight broke out, he would only have a somewhat sharp stick due to his non-existent sword skills.
The figure's hand rose, and for a brief moment, Mark braced himself for the worst. Yet the hand merely grasped the edge of the hood and lowered it. Beneath it was an old man, thin almost to the bone, his face framed by a disorderly stubble. A smile spread across his worn features as recognition flickered in his eyes, and he dipped his head in greeting.
The gesture, however, was doomed to remain unanswered. All he found was a frozen stare and a pair of eyes widened by confusion and suspicion. The old man's smile slowly withered. Unease crept into his expression, and he quickened his pace, pulling the hood back over his face as he disappeared into the darkness underneath the bridge.
"Calm down." The young man quipped from the side. "You almost scared the old man half to death with that crazy stare of yours."
Seemingly pulled away from his alert state, Mark continued his newfound bad habit of repetition, only this time with a clear, aggravated tone, "Calm down?" He said, enunciating each word. "Who...You're not exactly the one who died not five minutes ago, chased by some fucking flying monster with magic, and found out he was in another entire fucking Wooorld?"
The young man raised his hands in mock defeat, pacifying, "I know, I know, just joking."
"So, who are you?" Mark continued riding on his aggressive momentum, asking the most important question.
"Well, I'm called Leaf," replied the young man, glancing up at one corner of the bridge above. "I imagine this isn't what you're asking, but now is not a good time."
Before Mark could voice the question forming in his mind, the green-eyed young man raised a finger and pointed upward.
Mark followed the gesture and finally noticed the crowd crossing the bridge above them, close enough to be within earshot.
Dozens of people drifted across the stone span in the glow of the hanging lanterns.
Something that still puzzled him for some strange reason was a lantern in a street lamp. However, he had to admit, it made for a more beautiful atmosphere compared to raw electricity. The way the color would sometimes shift, the way it moved as if it were alive. It added a touch of dynamic beauty to an already beautiful path.
The people in question appeared to be young couples, mostly, though their attire looked nothing like anything he had ever seen.
The men sported long, flowing robes layered over embroidered inner garments in various dazzling colors, their sleeves swaying with every step. They were unashamed in the way of accessories as Jade pendants, carved bone charms, and bracelets. Their hair styles were even more diverse as some had their long hair running wildly following the whims of the wind, others in stylish ponytails, and others kept it even more simple, buzzcuts.
The women were dressed in elegant hanfu-like gowns of layered fabrics that fell almost to the ground. Their sleeves were equally long and graceful, with collars stitched with delicate patterns of clouds, cranes, and colorful flowering branches.
Everyone seemed dressed with a level of refinement that made Mark feel as though he had accidentally wandered into the movie set of a Chinese historical drama.
The young man's finger shifted to another direction. Only then did Mark notice six guards approaching from the same direction where the old man had first appeared.
Unlike the civilians, their clothing was practical and intimidating. They wore dark lamellar armor over sleeveless surcoats of different colors, their overlapping metal scales catching flashes of lantern light as they walked, making them seem even more intimidating than they already were. While long sabers hung from their waists, their stern expressions swept across the place as though searching for someone.
"Quick," Leaf swiftly exclaimed. "Throw your vest."
"What?"
"Throw the damn vest, the blue coat, you'll be required to verify your identity since a patrolling guard team was just killed." He urged, voice filled with urgency.
Noting the grimness carried by the tone, his rationale finally settled in place. Mark quickly pulled the light blue vest and threw it behind a bush to the side.
"I don't feel comfortable here; it's too exposed." The green-eyed young man, or as we were called, Leaf, murmured as he began making his way towards the other path where the old man disappeared, on the other end of the underpass. "I also just launched an attack on the city guards. They will be looking everywhere for us now, and you'll be surprised at how capable they are compared to where you came from."
Mark hastened his steps and followed closely beside him, leaving the six guards in the distance. Suddenly, he stopped; realization dawned upon him once the words he had just heard were fully processed.
"What did you just say?" Mark shouted in disbelief.
But Leaf was already moving. He darted up the stone steps on the far side of the bridge, leaving Mark scrambling after him.
As they disappeared into the crowd, the world seemed to widen.
The bridge became a thin line crossing a narrow running stream of water, the tributary itself joining a far greater river that dominated the eastern half of the city. From above, the city unfolded like a living, breathing beast that stretched into the horizon, its limit unseen.
It had not been built around the main river so much as alongside it. The waterway was simply too immense for that, and the current even more so. Its dark waters cut through the landscape like an inland sea, hundreds of vessels drifting across its surface beneath lantern-lit docks and sprawling harbors.
Entire districts hugged the western banks while others rose from the eastern shore, connected by colossal bridges that arched over the water like dragons. A wall so high that it was visible from every corner of the city hugged the interior in a protective embrace. Mark shuddered at the thought of what enemy this was supposed to deter.
Along the riverside stood tightly packed neighborhoods of white-plastered houses with red and orange tiled roofs, stacked upon steep streets. Balconies overflowed with flowers and hanging lanterns, cute vases decorating the front doors, while narrow alleyways wound between buildings that seemed to have grown naturally from the hills themselves.
Scattered throughout the city stood elegant ancient pagodas, some no taller than surrounding buildings, others piercing the skyline like towers. Their layered roofs curved upward toward the heavens.
One of them in particular caught Mark's eye; in fact, it was the first thing his eyes were glued to the moment he stepped onto the bridge.
It was overlooking everything else due to its gigantic size. Built upon a rocky prominence in the heart of the city. It dwarfed every structure around it, disappearing into the low clouds overhead.
Even from this distance, Mark could see streams of light moving up and down its exterior like stars caught in an endless orbit. Figures atop flying swords, figures on flying beasts both great and small, and even figures whose flight required the assistance of neither sword nor beast moved to and fro its gates.
Somewhere below, two insignificant figures emerged from a staircase and merged into the endless flow of people moving through the streets.
Leaf pressed a seemingly small, unremarkable silver metallic bead into Mark's hand. "Put it in your ear."
Mark examined the object. It was no larger than a fingernail, made from what seemed finely polished silver, and carved with intricate crimson vein-like runes.
"This is a communication artifact; just put it in your ear," Leaf informed. "We should separate."
He glanced back toward the bridge. "A green-cloaked figure walking with someone matching your description is easy to remember. Two strangers moving through a crowd are not."
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped into the sea of pedestrians and, just like that, was gone.
"Can you hear me?" Mark quietly muttered under his breath, still unsure whether the tiny device tucked inside his ear was actually working. It did give him quite a scare when it melted, perfectly matching the insides of his right ear.
His eyes never stopped moving. Wherever he looked, there was something new, something inconceivable.
The street stretched wide before him, packed with a sea of people flowing in both directions.
Sellers called from beneath brightly colored wooden awnings as their feisty customers haggled over prices in tongues Mark had never heard of before. The air itself felt alive, abuzz with an almost tangible energy, saturated with countless scents competing for his attention, adding an extra weight to his already overwhelmed state of mind.
On one side of the road stood rows of tailor shops showcasing clothes in every imaginable color. Soft silks painted with golden cranes and silver clouds hung from wooden frames.
Mark's eyes widened at one article in particular. This dress seemed alive, no, it was alive? Threads of very faint light moved through the fabric like flowing water in quick, bright flashes, before quietly disappearing into the material. Sometimes, the threads would burst forth carrying images, swords, cranes, clouds...
'Always with the cranes, and the clouds.' Mark thought in confusion. Even though he had longer car rides than his time in this world, he had noticed both things several times.
"I can indeed," Leaf replied through the communication artifact, his calm voice sounding directly inside Mark's ear, pulling him out of his musing. "Try not to look like a lost child. Half the street has already noticed you."
Finding it to be true after a quick glance, Mark swiftly gathered himself, closing his mouth and trying to appear more nonchalant. "It's just..." He muttered, yet words eluded him. "It's just so different." Seemingly finding the perfect question to ask, he inquired, "What's with all the cranes and the clouds?"
A chuckle echoed through the communication artifact in Mark's ear. "Cranes are auspicious birds, and clouds are, well... Beautiful. They give an unfettered sense of the extraordinary beauty of the heavens."
"Auspicious?" Mark could vaguely hear this word even on Earth, but he hadn't had the slightest clue as to what it meant exactly.
To their left were food shops bustling with customers, with very small kitchens inside the shops, and plenty of wooden tables and chairs in front. Steam rose from bamboo baskets stacked high with dumplings and buns; iron pans sizzled with meats glazed in fragrant sauces. Those with no shop weren't about to be outdone either; they sold skewers of unfamiliar creatures, of unfamiliar shapes, with unfamiliar scents. Some had bright fruits larger than a man's head, and crystal-like sweets that sparkled on their baskets.
"It means it aligns with the Dao in a way that is beneficial to the individual." Leaf gently explained. "When humanity was on the brink of extinction, it was a crane that helped guide its first step into becoming what it is today. An immovable mountain that no beast, natural, or unnatural phenomena can shake."
Walking by a weapons shop, Mark spotted a sword suspended above a display stand without any visible support. It animatedly floated there, gravity but a mere suggestion to it.
The people themselves were no less fascinating, clothes and mannerisms aside. There was a specific detail that really stood out to Mark. They were all just...very beautiful?
"Wait." When they reached an intersection in the street, the voice suddenly commanded.
Mark, feeling already overwhelmed by it all, and even more confronted by how little he knew, immediately froze on the spot. "What? What's wrong?"
"Look to your right," Leaf whispered quietly in his ear. "See anything strange?"
Mark obliged, but he couldn't pinpoint anything specifically. Just another normal intersection with people going about their business.
"The lantern."
"The lantern?" Mark repeated and glanced at the lantern in confusion. "Wait." He exclaimed. "What the hell is that?"
There was nothing remarkable about the lantern itself, but the creature clinging to its cylindrical frame was another matter entirely. Roughly the size of a man's fist, it resembled a tiny, misshapen eldritch creature born out of a nightmare.
Several thin, dark tentacles wrapped around the lantern's post like the roots of a parasitic vine, anchoring it firmly in place. At its center was a single oversized eye, disproportionate to the rest of its body, its iris a deep, lustrous gold surrounding a blood-red pupil.
As Mark watched, he was overcome with an eerie feeling. "So creepy." He commented. "What is that?"
The entire creature swiveled to the left, startling him, before repeating the same process in the other direction. Watching. Not missing anything.
"That's not a creature, it's an artifact," Leaf informed the clueless detective.
"Artifact, like an object?" Mark inquired. "That's not a living thing?"
"It's called the Unblinking Gaze Sentinel." The voice explained. "Its purpose is surveillance, and the reason it looks like that is that the artifact belongs to a branch of artifact refiners that love to make their creations resemble living things, the Animus refiners."
"So that's a camera?"
"The moment it sees your face, we'll be swarmed by the guards," Leaf warned, ignoring the other world's jargon. "Fortunately, those things have their limitations. Walk forward two paces. When you reach the mouth of the intersection, turn your head to the left as though something there has caught your attention. Do not look forward again until we've crossed."
Once Mark crossed the intersection, Leaf assured, "We are safe now. Although those things are dangerous, the Guards Office isn't allowed to put them everywhere, and that's our advantage."
Mark sighed in relief.
As much as that had sounded astonishing, which it undoubtedly was, everywhere he looked...anywhere...He was just as astounded, if not more. Thus, he was quick to shove it aside, continuing his exploration.
The interesting people aside, what really captivated his attention were the beasts.
A middle-aged man passed, leading a creature that resembled a horse, except its coat was covered in pale silver scales that reflected the street lantern's dim, fiery orange light, almost blinding Mark's eyes. Nearby, a woman walked a fox with three tails, lazily swishing behind it. The fox's stride projected one sentiment: I'm beautiful, and none would question it.
A group of children chased after a round, feathered creature no larger than a chicken, its tiny wings flapping furiously despite never quite managing to lift it from the ground as it cuckooed in both frustration and panic.
Above, the skies were just as busy.
Flocks of long-necked birds with brilliant blue plumage glided between rooftops and pagodas. Smaller creatures darted through, tails glowing behind them.
Every now and then, a much larger silhouette crossed overhead, causing people below to glance upward before continuing with their business as if such sights were entirely ordinary.
Mark nearly walked into someone. His head turned from one wonder to another, struggling to absorb everything at once.
The city felt impossibly vast, impossibly real. This wasn't a dream, couldn't be a dream. This wasn't some hidden country somewhere out there, or some hidden esoteric village.
It was another world!
The realization struck him harder than anything he had experienced since arriving, and an unstoppable torrent of awe swelled within his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. Yet beneath it lurked something less wonderful, something far more unforgiving. A fear he was trying to bury the very second he woke up.
If this world were real... Then wouldn't all the dangers that came with it be just as real, the confusion, the inconceivable nature of his current predicament? An even more uncomfortable truth was the finality of his past life, endeavors, his...regrets.
Just as he began losing himself to the strong current of the past, Mark's eyes finally locked into the familiar green figure walking amongst the masses before him, finding it the perfect distraction, "So who are you really? How could you possibly know my name and where I came from?" Just as the silence between them stretched for a mere second, he continued, even more aggravated after remembering a very important detail, "And how do you know about my world if you're from here? Can you send me back? How did you get there???"
Expecting some seriousness to ease his mind, some answers to quench his doubt, all Mark got was a bemused chuckle. "Unfortunately, the case isn't as you imagine. I am something of an Oracle. You see?" Leaf said.