Technology & Terror

Li Yue stood frozen in the middle of the unfamiliar street, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

Everything was wrong.

The world around her hummed with unnatural energy—the sky glowed with strange lights, the streets rumbled as metal beasts sped past without horses, and towering structures loomed above, reaching higher than any palace she had ever seen.

She could not comprehend it.

She refused to comprehend it.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe.

"Think, Li Yue. Think."

She tried to recall any story, any legend, any spell that spoke of a place like this.

Was this the underworld? A demon's illusion? Some forbidden sorcery?

The thought made her stomach churn.

And yet—this was no illusion.

The cold stone beneath her bare feet felt real.

The wind whipping at her skin felt real.

The gazes of dozens of strangers watching her in confusion, their whispers buzzing in the air—all real.

She gritted her teeth.

She had to move.

She had to escape.

But where could she go?

A sudden roar shook her bones.

Her head snapped toward the street, where a massive metal beast thundered past her, its glowing yellow eyes flashing.

She recoiled, stumbling backward in fear.

What kind of creature was that?

It had no legs, no mouth, no breath—yet it moved as if alive, rushing past without effort as if controlled by some unseen force.

She looked around wildly—they were everywhere.

Hundreds of them, sleek and metallic, darting through the roads in smooth, unnatural motions.

People—actual humans—walked past them without fear, stepping in front of them only to have them stop instantly, obediently.

Her heart pounded.

These people—were they not afraid?

How could they walk so close to such unnatural beasts?

It was madness.

She forced herself to take a step forward, her knees wobbling. She needed to understand.

A woman passed by, holding a shiny black rectangle in her hand, her eyes focused on it as she moved.

The device glowed, displaying strange symbols—a magic tablet? A relic?

Li Yue's pulse quickened.

She turned, scanning the crowd. More people had them.

Thin, glowing slates in their hands, some pressed to their ears, others flashing strange moving images.

She stared in horror as one of the devices suddenly spoke—a man's voice emerging from its depths, despite there being no one there.

She stumbled back. Sorcery.

She had to get away.

She turned down a smaller path—narrow, but still filled with people.

But the people—they were unlike any she had ever seen.

Their clothing was all wrong.

The women wore tight, revealing garments, some exposing their legs entirely, others with fabrics clinging to their forms in ways she had never seen.

The men wore loose, unnatural tunics with symbols printed on them, some with hoods over their heads, others wearing stiff, high-collared coats.

Not a single silken robe. Not a single hairpin or embroidered sash.

She stuck out like a ghost among them.

And they were staring.

Murmurs passed through the crowd.

"Is she filming something?"

"That dress looks so old-fashioned…"

"Maybe she's a performer?"

Their words made no sense.

She lowered her gaze and hurried forward, the weight of their eyes pressing down on her.

She needed to find somewhere to hide.

Somewhere to breathe.

She turned a corner and stumbled into an alleyway, where the towering walls around her gleamed—but not like the tone.

Not like anything she had ever seen.

The surface was smooth, reflective, like frozen water but without the cold.

She reached out and touched it.

It was solid, unnaturally so.

She could see her reflection—Song Rui's reflection—staring back at her, wide-eyed, disheveled, frightened.

She looked like a stranger to herself.

A woman out of place.

Her breath shuddered.

She turned her gaze upward, where the glass stretched toward the sky, reflecting the glow of the many strange lights above.

This was not the world she knew.

Not the world she belonged to.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm.

"I have to find a way back."

But how?

A soft chime rang.

She turned—and her breath stopped.

A wall of glass suddenly moved—on its own.

It slid open smoothly, without hands touching it, without hinges creaking.

Her entire body tensed.

She stared in disbelief as a man walked through, completely unfazed, the glass sealing shut behind him without a sound.

Impossible.

No one had touched it. No one had pushed it.

What kind of sorcery was this?!

She stepped forward cautiously.

The glass remained still.

She hesitated, then took another step—

And suddenly—it moved again.

She gasped, stumbling back.

The glass had responded to her.

Like an obedient servant, it had opened at her mere presence.

A magic door? A spirit-bound enchantment?

She could not believe it.

And yet—it was real.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

Everything in this world was wrong.

And she had no idea how to survive in it.

A deep hum filled the air.

She looked up and saw the sky—dark, but not empty.

It should have been filled with stars, with the gentle glow of the moon.

Instead—it glowed with colors.

Floating symbols, words she could not fully understand, blinked and flickered high above the streets, attached to no paper or silk banners, yet shining as if painted with fire.

Some of them even moved, displaying images of people, their faces shifting and speaking like living paintings.

She felt lightheaded.

The sky itself had been taken over by these strange, glowing talismans.

Did the gods not exist in this place?

Had mortals taken the sky for themselves?

She couldn't understand.

And the more she tried, the more her chest ached.

Her fingers trembled as she pressed them against her temples.

She had woken up in a body that was not her own, in a world that followed no rules she knew.

She didn't know its people. She didn't know its language, its customs, its magic.

She was alone.

And if she didn't figure something out soon—

She wouldn't survive.

Her breath shook.

"What do I do?"

The wind blew past her, carrying the scent of metal, oil, and smoke, nothing like the fresh pine and sandalwood of her home.

She felt small.

Lost.

Helpless.

And then, for the first time since she had awoken in this world—

She wanted to cry.