October 3rd, 2018. Wednesday. 8:25 a.m

The green-painted room was a mess,scattered with books and posters taped crookedly to the walls.A family photo hung above the bed,right next to another frame-two smiling parents with a cheerful little girl.Autumn had just begun,and the rain outside was light,more like a whisper than a storm.

The only sound inside was the dull thumping of the clock,reminding me i was already twenty-five minutes late.Then came another sound softer this time,my mom's gentle voice calling me awake.

"Sora, sweetheart,aren't you going to be late?You said you'd meet olivia this morning to check on your novel.Come on,wake up."

My mother's voice was soft as her fingers brushed through my hair.I sat up,stretching my arm with a small yawn before giving her a faint smile and a nod.Then i dragged myself toward the bathroom to get ready.From inside,i could already hear Olivia's voice downstairs,chatting easily with my mom as if she belonged in the house.

Well...maybe she is.The only friend i've grown up with,through all the chaos we've been through.

After getting ready, I came downstairs with my tote bag slung over my shoulder, laptop tucked safely inside. Olivia was already at the dining table, munching on one of my mom’s sandwiches with that usual grin of hers. She waved at me, and I grabbed a sandwich for myself before sitting down.

“I need to tell you something,” Olivia said between bites, almost choking as she tried to swallow too fast.

“What is it? Some new gossip?” I asked, curiosity written all over my face.Olivia smirked. “I finally managed to make a new cake recipe at my boss’s place but he said it looked deadly. What an asshole.”

My mom burst out laughing, and I joined in, almost choking on my own bite. That was just Olivia ever since we were kids, she’d dreamed of opening her own cake shop, obsessed with experimenting and trying new things.

After breakfast, my mom reminded me again to be careful. She was always like that, too loving and too worried, so I just nodded with a smile before Olivia and I finally stepped out the door.

Halfway down the street, with the drizzle still falling, Olivia held her umbrella and leaned closer.

“There’s new gossip, you know. Have you heard? Savana and Alec broke off their engagement. Such a shame that they’d been together since high school all the way through college.”

I blinked in surprise but only nodded in understanding. Then, out of nowhere, a gust of wind flipped Olivia’s umbrella inside out, making both of us burst into laughter.

“Oh shit this damn umbrella!” she shouted, fighting with the handle as if it had betrayed her.

Olivia and I finally arrived at Habas Bookshop. My heart raced with excitement my book was out in the world, and I just wanted to see it sitting on the shelf.

But the moment I found it, my smile dimmed. The copies were still untouched, exactly where they had been. I already knew the truth no one was buying it. My so-called dream debut had slipped quietly into silence.

“It’s okay,” Olivia said softly, giving me that look she always did when she was trying to lift me up. “Slowly but sure, people will find it. They’ll will know you're book."Mrs. Candy, the shop owner, walked over with her gentle smile, adjusting her glasses before patting my shoulder.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said kindly. “Readers will come in time. These days, not many people buy books like they used to.”

She was middle-aged, kindhearted, and the only one generous enough to put my book on her shelves. I thanked her quietly before Olivia and I left for our usual spot to the Bli Café.

Even before we stepped inside, Olivia’s umbrella flipped again, startling a couple of people passing by.

“Stupid umbrella!” she cursed, and I had to bite back a laugh.

We ordered tea, coffee, and a small plate of pastries, then chose our favorite spot by the window where we could watch the rain outside. The drizzle turned heavy as Olivia excused herself to the restroom, leaving me alone with my laptop while we waited for our drinks.

I opened my laptop, scrolling through job listings with a heavy sigh. I needed something anything that could help with the bills and my mom’s medical expenses.

I had thought being a writer would be enough, that publishing my book would somehow fix everything. But reality had a cruel way of proving me wrong.

Taking a slow breath, I reminded myself to stay strong. My mom was all I had left. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her the way I had lost my dad.

— Meanwhile —

May 17th, 1890. 4:20 p.m.

The room was covered in dust not from neglect, but because it looked more like a workshop of machines than a place anyone would actually live in. The air smelled of oil and iron, vintage and strange. A few people stood nervously, some scribbling notes, others checking papers with trembling hands.

At the center of it all stood the machine.

“Robert, is it ready?” asked a woman in her late twenties, clutching a sheet of notes tightly. Across from her, a man with round glasses adjusted his frames, visibly nervous.

Robert ran his fingers across the polished gears and brass, checking every bolt and wire. His expression was determined, almost stubborn. This project had to succeed even if the rest of the world could never know about it. They were scientists chasing the impossible: a machine that could reach into the future.

Robert’s breath came in shallow bursts as he gave the final inspection, his fingers trembling against the polished brass. He glanced toward Margaret and Alan.Alan looked restless, his eyes darting with fear. Would their thirty-eighth attempt fail again? Or would it finally succeed?

Margaret gave a firm nod, her expression steady. This time, we will succeed.

Robert pressed the lever.

The machine roared to life, spilling out a blinding blue light. A violent gust tore through the room, forcing the three of them to brace themselves against the storm of wind. Papers scattered like birds, chairs toppled, and the air howled as if the world itself had cracked open.

—

I was still scrolling through job postings on my laptop, our order of tea and pastries sitting untouched on the table. Olivia had disappeared to the restroom minutes ago, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

That was when it hit me.

A wave of dizziness crashed over me, sharp and sudden. The chatter of the café faded, replaced by a single high-pitched ringing that drilled into my ears. My vision spun, tilting sideways, and the world around me collapsed into darkness.

Before I could even cry out, I felt my body yanked pulled thrown into somewhere else entirely.

My eyes went wide.No Way.This couldn’t be real. I must’ve been too exhausted and accidentally dozed off in the café, right?

“This is just a dream,” I muttered under my breath and without thinking, I smacked my own cheek.

Slap! … Slap!

Alan flinched, rushing toward me.

“Hey, hey stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

But the sting on my skin was real. This wasn’t a dream. My heart sank, terror clawing up my throat. Margaret and Robert were already bent over the strange machine, fussing with its scorched gears. The air around them was tense, heavy with the realization that this invention passed down for generations and finally tested today had worked… but at a cost.

I couldn’t go back. Not yet.

“Are you… alright?” Alan asked worry lining his voice. His chubby cat waddled beside him, its belly swaying like it had eaten one meal too many.

I snapped, panic breaking through.

“No, I’m not alright! I want to go home now! If you don’t send me back, I’ll call the police!”

A low chuckle escaped Robert, his eyes never leaving the machine. It was a mocking laugh, like he found my words ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?!” I shot back, glaring.

He only shook his head, lips curved in amusement.

Margaret, ignoring him, brought me a glass of water. She offered it with gentle eyes.

“Please, drink. You must be thirsty. Forgive us for this mess… the machine is broken, and it will take some time before we can fix it.”

I hesitated, refusing to take the glass. What if it was poisoned? My paranoia whispered loud in my ear.

Margaret didn’t push further. She simply placed the glass on a nearby crate close enough for me to reach, if I changed my mind.

Alan, who’d been silently observing me all this time, gave me a small, reassuring smile.

“I’m Alan,” he said, pointing toward the others. “That’s Margaret and the one over there is Robert. And you are…?”

“Sora.”

Robert raised his brows. “Soda?”

Great. Apparently his ears were clogged with wax.

“It’s Sora. Sora Hugh,” I corrected firmly.

Margaret gave me a kind smile and nodded, while Alan followed with his usual awkward grin.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Robert said politely while his eyes focused on the machine.

“Yeah, not for me,” I shot back.

Alan only grinned and took me outside of the room so that I could finally see with my own eyes that I truly was in the year 1890. Everything looked vintage and not as modern as in the future.

Inside the room, Margaret whispered to Robert, who was still examining the damage on the machine.

“We have to send her back quickly, and no one must know that we succeeded…”

Margaret looked a bit guilty, and Robert only nodded while wiping the sweat from his forehead. His hair was already sticking flat from the sweat.

“This will take a little longer to fix,” Robert said, and outside, Alan was guiding me around as I confidently told him all sorts of things about the future. Alan’s face shifted between wide open amazement and disbelief as he tried to take in everything I said.

“Do people fly in the future?” Alan asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “No, not people. We’ve got airplanes but no human wings or anything like that.”

His ears turned a little pink, and he gave an awkward nod. “Oh… I thought maybe humans could fly one day. What about… magic?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled. “Magic? No. There’s no magic in the future.Only in the movies.”

Alan nodded slowly. “So… magic only exists in our worl—”

He stopped mid-sentence when Margaret appeared in the doorway, calling for him to help Robert. I froze for a second, wondering what he had almost said.

Then Margaret turned to me, her voice softer. “Come with me. You’ll need proper clothes. Choose whatever feels right, and tomorrow I’ll take you around the city at least until the machine is repaired.”

She smiled, and for the first time since I landed in this strange place.Then i picked out a few outfits I’d be wearing for the next couple of days. The clothes looked vintage, soft to the touch so different from anything I was used to. I slipped into a simple dress, nothing too flashy, just enough to blend in. Margaret had made it clear: my presence here had to stay a secret.

When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but pause. Honestly? The dress looked beautiful on me and fine ,I kind of loved it.

Soon after, Margaret took me outside. The world beyond those walls really did feel like stepping into a living painting. People still traveled by horse-drawn carriages, the air was thick with something unnameable, and though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, I felt it the strangeness in the air.

We walked down a narrow street, lined with shops selling everything from tiny trinkets to massive pieces of furniture. Every single thing looked antique, like it had a story waiting to be told.

“Do you want to buy something?”

Margaret tilted her head up at me with a smile.

I shook my head quickly, though honestly? I was lying. Everything around me looked so tempting.

“No, I’m fine. But… what is this place?” I asked, my eyes darting from one storefront to another.

“This,” Margaret replied, “is Neld Street. It leads toward the main town. There are plenty of other roads, of course but Neld is special. People know it for selling rare furniture anything from the tiniest trinket to the grandest piece.”

I nodded slowly, still taking it all in. This place was extraordinary. And the wildest part? It was all real.

-

The discovery of a man’s corpse had become the hottest talk in the far edge of Sidian village.

A body or rather, just a head without its body. Crimes had been rising lately, each more disturbing than the last, and no one knew who was behind them.

But some whispered that this wasn’t the work of an ordinary killer.

“Mr. Duncan…”

“Franky.” He replied without turning around, his blue eyes fixed on the scene as if dissecting every detail of the murder.

“This is the seventh body this month,” Franky said, glancing at the six sketched portraits of the previous victims."And judging by the way this one was executed ,i'm sure it’s the same killer.”

“The murder was carried out with such precision,” Duncan murmured.“The killer leaves the head behind… and turns the rest of the body into nothing but ash.”

He crouched down, brushing his fingers lightly against the gray dust scattered on the ground, not far from where the victim’s head lay.

Franky stepped closer, a faint crease forming on his brow.“So... this means it's them?"

By them, he meant the ones whispered about in hushed voices the faction known as the Riots, a group of magic-wielders infamous for leaving chaos in their wake.