The mundane hum of city life faded into white noise as Arin trudged home through the rain. Another day, another disappointment. The promotion had gone to someone else—again. The apartment lease was increasing—of course it was. And that persistent feeling of being meant for something more gnawed at the edges of consciousness like a hungry rat that refused to die.
Just once, Arin thought, couldn't the universe throw me a bone instead of another bill?
The rain fell harder, seemingly targeting Arin specifically while sparing the annoyingly cheerful couple sharing an umbrella across the street. Even the weather had favorites.
Lightning split the sky, momentarily transforming the dreary evening into harsh daylight. In that flash, Arin noticed something that hadn't been there before—a narrow alley between the convenience store and the laundromat. An alley that, despite having walked this route daily for three years, Arin had never seen before.
A soft blue glow pulsed from within, like a heartbeat calling out.
"That's not suspicious at all," Arin muttered, already stepping toward it. "Glowing mysterious alley? Perfect end to a perfect day."
Against all reason—and every horror movie warning ever—Arin moved closer, drawn by an inexplicable familiarity. The rational part of Arin's brain screamed about muggings and worse, but was easily drowned out by that persistent feeling: This is important. This is for you.
"Some threads of fate cannot be ignored," whispered a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
Great. Now hearing voices. Fantastic.
Arin blinked, suddenly noticing something impossible. The rain had stopped falling—no, it hung suspended in mid-air, droplets frozen in time like tiny crystal ornaments. A taxi horn blared in the distance, the sound stretched and distorted as if underwater.
The alley stretched impossibly long before Arin's eyes, the blue light growing brighter with each hesitant step. The walls on either side seemed to breathe, ancient bricks expanding and contracting in a rhythm that matched the pulsing light.
At the alley's center floated what could only be described as a tear in reality itself—a vertical pool of swirling blue energy, its edges fraying like an unraveling tapestry. It hummed with power, sending vibrations through the concrete that traveled up through Arin's rain-soaked shoes.
"This is either the answer to everything or how I die," Arin whispered, reaching out a trembling hand. "Knowing my luck, probably the latter."
Fingertips brushed against the light.
The world dissolved.
Pain unlike anything Arin had ever experienced flooded every nerve ending—not the pain of injury but of transformation, of being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. Consciousness stretched thin across an impossible distance, glimpsing worlds and wonders beyond comprehension.
For an eternal moment, Arin existed everywhere and nowhere, seeing through countless eyes across countless realities. A floating city of crystal spires. A forest where trees whispered ancient secrets. A battlefield where warriors wielded light as weapons.
And through it all, threads—golden, silver, crimson, azure—weaving together in patterns too complex to comprehend yet somehow familiar, as if Arin had always known this cosmic tapestry existed just beyond perception.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the kaleidoscope of realities collapsed to a single point of light.
And somewhere beyond the veil between realms, in a place where fate itself took physical form, the Oracle of Fate added another thread to its grand design. The thread pulsed with potential, its color shifting between hues never before seen in the great tapestry.
"And so it begins," the Oracle whispered to the empty chamber, its voice like the rustling of ancient pages. "The one who will either save all worlds or unravel them completely has finally arrived."
The Oracle paused, considering the new thread with what might have been amusement.
"Let us hope they're a quick learner."
The tapestry shimmered in response, countless futures branching from this single moment of transition.
In the space between worlds, Arin continued to fall.