[Scene: College classroom, afternoon. The fan spins slowly above, barely cutting through the warm air. The professor is halfway through a dull lecture on macroeconomics.]
Professor:And that brings us to the Keynesian model, which explains fluctuations in output during recessions...
Aryan:Ugh... even the fan's about to give up.
Aryan slumps back in his seat, chin resting on his hand. He glances out the window and spots two kids playing cricket in a dusty field nearby. The bat makes a hollow crack as it hits the ball, and the kids laugh like the world has no weight.
Aryan (softly):Lucky brats... They get to enjoy life. But sooner or later, they'll face the same soul-crushing grind.
His eyes drift back to the chalkboard just as the bell rings. Instantly, bags zip up and chairs scrape across the floor. A wave of energy sweeps through the class—not joy, just relief.
Professor (raising voice):Don't forget! Tomorrow is your exam. Be prepared!
[Scene: Outside the college gates. Students walk in groups. Aryan walks alone, hands in his pockets.]
Sam (calling from behind):Bro! You ready for tomorrow?
Aryan (without turning):Nope. Gonna freestyle it with some top-tier cheating.
Sam (laughing):Perfect. I'm sitting right behind you. Don't forget your loyal brother in arms.
Aryan (smirking):Of course not. You'll get the deluxe copy-paste package.
They reach a crossroad. Sam turns left. Aryan heads straight. A silent wave between them says everything.
[Scene: Aryan's home. A modest house in a quiet neighborhood. The door creaks open.]
Inside, the place smells like curry and old books. Aryan kicks off his shoes and walks in. His grandfather is in the kitchen, stirring something in a steel pot.
Aryan:I'm home, Grandpa.
Grandpa (without looking):Welcome back. Wash up—dinner's almost ready.
Aryan nods and heads to the bathroom. Photos line the hallway walls—his parents, now gone. A truck accident, two years ago. Ever since, it's been just him and Grandpa.
[Scene: At the dinner table. Plates of hot food. Quiet chewing. Faint TV noise in the background.]
Aryan:Grandpa... those stories you used to tell me. About the other world and all... they aren't real, right?
Grandpa (smiling faintly):Maybe not to you. But the universe is full of mysteries, Aryan. Just because we don't see something doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Aryan:You sound like an anime character...
Grandpa (chuckling):Who's to say they aren't inspired by truth?
[Scene: Aryan's room. Posters of anime characters line the walls. A shelf overflows with novels—mostly isekai. He lies on his bed, scrolling through a new light novel on his phone.]
Aryan (reading):"A lonely boy, bored with reality, dreams of another world…"
He grins.
Aryan:Man… the life in another world. Adventuring, monsters, powers, meaning. So amazing.
His smile fades slightly as he stares at the ceiling.
Aryan:But nah… nothing ever happens here. No alien invasion, no zombie apocalypse, no robots rising up, no world-ending disasters. Just... tests and taxes.
He yawns, dropping the phone onto his chest. The room dims as sleep takes over.
[Scene: Silence. Then... a strange hum. A shimmer of blue light. The air vibrates. Aryan's eyes twitch.]
His body floats weightlessly for a second before everything goes dark.
[Scene: Unknown forest. Aryan lies on a bed of moss, surrounded by glowing trees. The sky above has not one, but two moons.]
Aryan (waking slowly):Huh...?
He sits up. His room is gone. His phone is gone. Everything is unfamiliar. The air smells different—sweet and electric. Strange whispers echo softly in the distance.
Aryan (whispers):This… this isn't my room…
He stares up at the twin moons, his heart pounding.
Aryan:Where… am I?
[TO BE CONTINUED…]