A rough-hewn wooden bed.
Thin fabric draped over me.
Above, a ceiling of rough plaster—whether stone or brick beneath, I couldn’t tell—looked ready to crumble onto my face at any moment.
A soft glow flickered to my left. A flame.
An oil lamp…?
Beneath it sat a wooden desk with drawers.
*Swish… swish… swish…*
The steady rhythm of writing soothed like a lullaby. My vision blurred again.
I must’ve been rescued.
I’m still alive!!
Relief sparked a half-conscious reflex—the kind honed by years of exams—to analyze my situation.
—I’d miraculously survived the tsunami’s fury and been airlifted by a rescue chopper.
Rushed to the nearest emergency shelter near the quake’s epicenter.
This bare room was part of a newly built triage camp.
Beside me, a doctor or nurse scribbled patient records at the desk.
—If this were a test answer, it’d be nearly perfect.
No need to worry. Rest until my strength returned.
…………
*Wait.* Something felt off about that answer.
I flexed my fingers. No IV drip pricked my hand. With my weakened state, that made no sense.
And why would any modern disaster team use an oil lamp—an antique—for light?
My half-formed peace began to dry up.
I strained to turn my head, desperate to see who sat at the desk.
*Swish… swish…*
*Swish.*
The scratching stopped. My eyes flew open.
My vision swam, too weak to focus clearly.
All I could make out was a figure in what looked like a brown raincoat shuffling toward my bed.
??: *Pulonlihakuda?*
A young woman’s voice—but the words meant nothing.
*Washed ashore in another country? No… foreign rescue teams?*
Seventh Ju: Um… sorry, do you speak Chinese?
?? : …………
Seventh Ju: Where am I? What’s happening…?
?? : …………
Silence. No reply.
Anxiety clawed at me. I needed answers. *Now.*
Seventh Ju: Are there other survivors? Did they… find my parents…?
Seventh Ju: Did they recover my parents’ remains?
?? : …………
I braced myself as I spoke.
*She’s choosing her words carefully. Softening the blow.*
Whatever the truth—apocalypse, oblivion…
…I could take it.
?? : …………
?? : Chinese, you said?
Seventh Ju: Y-yes.
Hearing my native tongue eased the knot in my chest.
?? : Let me piece together what you said… What disaster did you endure?
Seventh Ju: …………
Her reaction made no sense.
How could she not know about the earthquake? The tsunami?
Those ten horrific days felt too real to be a dream—or some neural simulation.
Seventh Ju: The earthquake! The tsunami! Even if you didn’t see it live, the news would’ve—
?? : …………
?? : Tsunami?
Seventh Ju: Yes!
?? : Tsunami… What’s that?
Seventh Ju: …………
?? : Ah. I see now.
Seventh Ju: …Huh?
?? : You’re talking about your world’s story, aren’t you?
Seventh Ju: My… world?
The figure reached toward the desk, then held something bright before my eyes.
A mirror. She adjusted it slightly, angling my gaze toward the window.
Beyond the glass, under dim light, strange trees crowded like a primordial forest.
On a small cleared patch stood boxy, matchstick-like cottages—nowhere near any 21st-century cityscape.
Not a Chinese village I’d ever seen. This was utterly foreign.
Low fences and stone paths divided the settlement. People carrying farming tools passed by—
their features a unique blend, unlike any East Asian ethnicity.
Every object was recognizable, yet nothing matched my world.
I’d been dropped into a place untouched by modern civilization.
A different world.
Seventh Ju: This…
?? : This is *my* world. Its name is **Xiv**.
?? : The moment you spoke, I knew your language wasn’t one spoken by Xiv’s intelligent beings.
?? : Just as I suspected when I pulled you from the lake—you’re not from here.
Seventh Ju: …………
Seventh Ju: The lake?
Sensory details bombarded me, demanding logic.
But the answer needed no deep thought. Strip away emotion. Trust reason.
I’d… crossed over.
That was half the truth. The other half? My mind was broken, hallucinating.
*Typical. When you’re this weak during an exam, your answers are never sharp.*
My only skill was acing tests. I’d face reality when I was clear-headed.
I sighed and let myself drift off again.
?? : …………
