Evan Carter shuffled out of the lecture hall, his sneakers scuffing against the polished tiles of the university corridor. At 21, he was a third-year student at one of the most prestigious universities in his country, a fact that would have swelled most people with pride. For Evan, though, it was just a means to an end—a way to keep his parents off his back so he could indulge in what truly mattered: stories.
The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the campus. Evan adjusted the straps of his worn-out backpack, his fingers itching to pull out his phone and dive back into The Shattered Veil, the novel he'd been obsessed with for weeks. It was a sprawling fantasy epic, filled with warring kingdoms, cunning mages, and secrets that kept him up until dawn. He'd reached chapter 147 last night, and the cliffhanger—a betrayal in the royal court—had left him ravenous for more.
"Hey, Evan!" a voice called, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He turned, blinking, to see Mia, a girl from his engineering class, jogging toward him. She was part of his project team, one of those forced group assignments he tolerated to maintain his grades. Her dark hair bounced as she closed the distance, a friendly smile on her face.
"Oh, uh, hey," Evan mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Social interactions weren't his forte—he preferred the company of fictional characters to real people.
"I just wanted to say thanks," Mia said, catching her breath. "You really pulled through with that coding fix for our project. Professor Lee was impressed."
Evan shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "It wasn't a big deal. Just didn't want us to fail."
"No, seriously, you saved us. I owe you one." She tilted her head, studying him. "You're always so quiet in class. What do you do with all your free time?"
The question caught him off guard. He couldn't exactly say he spent every waking moment lost in anime, manga, or novels, chasing the next twist in a story. "Uh, just… stuff. Reading, mostly."
"Cool! Like what?"
He hesitated, then relented. "I'm into this novel right now, The Shattered Veil. It's fantasy. Pretty intense."
"Sounds fun. Maybe I'll check it out sometime." Mia grinned. "Anyway, I'll let you go. See you in class!"
"Yeah, see you," Evan replied, already turning away. The conversation had lasted maybe two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. He didn't dislike Mia—she seemed nice enough—but he had no room in his life for friends. Friends required time, effort, things he'd rather pour into finding out what happened next in his stories.
As he resumed his trek to the dorm, the campus buzzed faintly around him—students laughing, bikes whirring past, the distant hum of a lawnmower. Evan barely noticed. His mind was already back in the world of The Shattered Veil, replaying the last scene he'd read. He pulled out his phone, opened the reading app, and scrolled to chapter 148. The words lit up the screen, pulling him in like a moth to a flame.
The traitor's dagger gleamed in the torchlight as Lady Seris stumbled back, her hand pressed to the wound. "You fool," she hissed, "you've unleashed something you cannot control." Beyond the throne room's shattered window, the sky churned, a storm unlike any other brewing on the horizon.
Evan's pulse quickened. He needed to know what happened next. Walking faster now, he cut through the campus garden—a quiet, overgrown spot with winding paths and tangled vines. It was a shortcut he'd discovered last semester, perfect for avoiding crowds. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, his feet moving on autopilot.
The storm grew fiercer, lightning splitting the heavens. In the distance, a figure emerged—a silhouette cloaked in shadow, holding a tome that pulsed with an eerie light. The air thickened, reality itself bending as the figure raised the book and began to chant.
A breeze rustled the leaves around him, but Evan didn't look up. He was too deep in the story, his imagination painting every detail—the clash of steel, the crackle of magic, the weight of destiny hanging in the balance.
As the chant reached its crescendo, the ground trembled. A rift tore open in the air, a jagged wound of light and shadow. The figure stepped forward, vanishing into the abyss, and the world held its breath.
Evan stopped walking, his thumb hovering over the screen. That was it—the chapter ended. He groaned, frustration bubbling up. Another cliffhanger. He tapped the app, hoping for an update, but nothing. The author hadn't posted more. His hunger gnawed at him, a familiar ache. This was why he'd moved from anime to manga to novels in the first place—each medium left him stranded at some point, desperate for the next piece of the tale.
He sighed, lowering his phone, and that's when he saw it.
The air in front of him shimmered.
At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, the sun reflecting off the garden's pond. But as he squinted, the shimmer sharpened into something else—a faint, rippling distortion, like heat rising off pavement. It hung there, suspended between two gnarled trees, no bigger than a door.
Evan blinked, rubbing his eyes. "What the…?"
The distortion didn't vanish. If anything, it grew clearer, edges flickering with faint sparks of light. His heart thudded. This was straight out of The Shattered Veil—the rift in the story. He glanced at his phone, then back at the shimmer. Was he losing it? Had his obsession with stories finally fried his brain?
Curiosity tugged at him, the same pull that drove him to turn the next page or watch the next episode. He stepped closer, the grass crunching under his sneakers. The air felt strange here—thicker, charged with a hum he couldn't quite hear. He reached out, his fingers trembling, and brushed the edge of the shimmer.
A jolt shot through him, sharp and electric. Before he could pull back, the world lurched. The garden vanished—trees, sky, phone, all swallowed by a rush of light and shadow. He felt weightless, tumbling through a void, his scream lost in the chaos. Then, darkness.
When Evan opened his eyes, he wasn't in the garden anymore. He lay on a soft bed, the air heavy with the scent of lavender and wax. His head throbbed, and his body felt… wrong. Weak. Small. He tried to sit up, but his arms wobbled, barely supporting him. Panic flared as he looked down at himself—his lanky frame was gone, replaced by the tiny limbs of a child, draped in a loose linen shirt.
"No way," he whispered, his voice high and unfamiliar.
The room came into focus: stone walls, a high ceiling, a wooden dresser carved with swirling patterns. A tapestry hung opposite him, depicting a knight slaying a dragon. It was like something out of a fantasy novel—medieval, grand, unreal.
He swung his legs over the bed's edge, his bare feet brushing a cold floor. A mirror stood in the corner, its silver surface beckoning. He stumbled toward it, each step a struggle, and froze at what he saw. A boy stared back—four years old, maybe, with black hair and wide red eyes. His eyes.
"What the hell is happening?" he muttered, clutching the dresser for support.
The door creaked open, and a woman stepped in. She wore a simple dress with an apron, her graying hair tied back. A maid, he realized.
"Young master Theo, you're awake!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Oh, thank gods. We were so worried."
Evan—or Theo, apparently—stared at her, speechless. Young master? Thank Gods? His mind raced, piecing it together. This wasn't a dream. He'd been transported, just like in the stories he devoured. But why? How?
The maid knelt, her hands gentle on his shoulders. "You've been feverish for days, my lord. The healer said it was a miracle you pulled through."
"I… I'm fine," he managed, his child's voice shaky. "Just… tired."
"Of course, of course. Let me fetch you some water." She bustled to a pitcher on the dresser, pouring a cup. "Your parents will be overjoyed to hear you're up."
Parents. That word hit him like a brick. In his old life, his parents were strict, distant figures who cared more about his grades than his happiness. Here, it seemed he was part of something bigger—a noble family, judging by the room and the maid's deference. Not too powerful, though—the furniture was fine but not extravagant, the tapestry impressive but faded. Mid-tier nobility, maybe a baron or count. It fit.
The maid handed him the cup, and he took it with both hands, his small fingers clumsy. "Thank you," he said, sipping to buy time. His mind whirled. If this was real—and it felt too vivid not to be—he was a 21-year-old trapped in a 4-year-old's body. He had his memories, his knowledge, but none of the strength or freedom he'd once taken for granted.
As the maid fussed over him, smoothing the blankets, Theo sank back onto the bed. The shimmer in the garden, the rift—it had to be tied to *The Shattered Veil*. The story's scene had mirrored his reality too perfectly to be coincidence. But why him? Was it his hunger for stories, that endless need to know what happened next, that had dragged him here?
He didn't have answers yet, but one thing was clear: this was no ordinary tale. He was living it now, a character in a world he didn't understand. Fear mingled with a flicker of excitement. If this was a story, then maybe he could shape it—use his wits to survive, to thrive.
For now, though, he'd play the part of Theo, the sickly young noble. He'd listen, learn, and wait for the next chapter to unfold. Because if there was one thing Evan Carter knew, it was how to navigate a good story..