A boy sprinted down the crowded street, darting between pedestrians and shoving past anyone in his way.
"Only four minutes left!" he muttered under his breath, panic creeping into his voice.
His legs pumped faster, heart pounding in his chest. He barely noticed the startled faces or angry shouts of those he brushed aside. There was no time to explain.
Suddenly, he came to a halt at the corner of an alley, his eyes locking onto the familiar entrance of an old library, tucked between towering buildings. The very place he used to visit as a kid. Today, though, wasn't just a visit. Today was his first day working there, and he was late.
Bursting through the wooden door, he was greeted by the smell of dust and aging paper. The dimly lit library was just as he remembered, quiet and timeless. His eyes scanned the shelves before falling on an old man standing behind the counter—a man in his sixties with a kept beard and simple, well-worn clothes. The librarian.
"You're late," the old man said flatly, not even looking up from the book he was flipping through.
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Reeves," the boy stammered, out of breath. "There was traffic, and—"
"Save it," Mr. Reeves interrupted, closing the book with a soft thud. "Your favorite just came in. It's in the back, last volume. But remember, you can only read it after your shift."
The boy's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? I can't wait!"
"First, you need to sort the new arrivals and help with the returns," Mr. Reeves instructed, gesturing toward a cart filled with books. "Then you can take a break. This job requires focus, so keep your head in the task."
The boy nodded, determination washing over him as he hurried to the back room to retrieve the new arrivals. He worked quickly, sorting through the books and ensuring everything was in order, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of The Misel Chronicles.
Finally, with the tasks complete, he grabbed the book and headed home, unable to contain his anticipation. Once in his room, he dropped onto his bed, flipping open the novel, eager to devour the story.
But the pages were empty.
His heart skipped a beat. He flipped through the entire book, page after page—blank. Confusion turned to frustration, and he shook the book as if the words might magically appear.
Suddenly, a bright flash erupted from the blank pages, blinding him for a moment. He tried to move, but his body was frozen in place. The room around him warped, spinning faster and faster until it dissolved into a cascade of colors and light.
Then, silence.
When he finally opened his eyes, a sharp pain shot through his body, making him gasp. He tried to sit up, but every movement sent waves of agony through him. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to understand his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit room filled with strange furniture and unfamiliar symbols on the walls, making it clear he was no longer in his own world.
For ten agonizing minutes, he lay there, the pain gradually fading but leaving him disoriented. Suddenly, a rush of memories overwhelmed him—memories that weren't his own.
He saw images of a family: moments spent around the dinner table, laughter echoing as they shared stories. He remembered the warmth of his mother's embrace and his father's comforting presence. But those happy moments were shadowed by sorrow.
Then came the painful memories: the moments when his new parents were taken from him, leaving him with a deep sense of loss. The only person left now was his younger sister, the last reminder of the love he had lost. The anguish of being alone in a world where he had just begun to feel at home weighed heavily on him.
"No... no!" he cried, tears filling his eyes. He felt the suffocating despair as he realized he had a family back in his own world—parents who cared for him and a warm home. Now, he found himself trapped in a story that had already been written.
"I can't be here," he whispered, clutching his head as panic set in. "I have to get back!"
But the more he tried to remember his family, the more distant their faces became, replaced by memories of this new life he didn't want. The thought of his sister waiting for him, unaware of what had happened, filled him with a deep sorrow.
Pushing himself up, he felt a flicker of determination mix with the pain. If he was stuck in this world, he would need to learn how to survive. He wouldn't let himself be just an extra in someone else's story.
Taking a shaky breath, he stood up, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in this strange new world of The Misel Chronicles.