The Twisted, Eerie Sky

The sky above looked especially terrifying in its distorted, unnatural state.

Gray was the dominant color of this world—gray skyscrapers, gray alloy ground, gray vehicles, and a gray sky, with three colossal gray spheres hanging ominously above.

This was a dead metal world.

A ruin, perhaps?

Walking through the silent steel jungle, that thought crossed my mind. But unlike the ruins I’d seen in movies or documentaries, there was no visible damage here. At least, none that could be seen from the outside. The cold steel surfaces bore no scars, as if this place hadn’t been abandoned due to destruction but had instead slipped into a state of dormancy—a sleeping beast, as I’d come to think of it.

This slumbering world was so silent that the only sound was the crunch of my footsteps. After walking for who knows how long, fatigue finally caught up with me, and I found a spot that looked like a landing platform for some kind of flying vehicle and sat down.

I still had some time before I needed to leave, and with nothing better to do, I found myself once again staring up at the three enormous metal spheres in the sky. They were so massive that they seemed to occupy nearly a third of the sky’s surface. Their surfaces were covered in countless sharp protrusions and grid-like patterns, giving them the appearance of colossal planetary fortresses from a sci-fi movie. Honestly, everything about this world was more fantastical than any film I’d ever seen.

I kept staring at those moon-sized metal orbs until the oppressive weight of their presence forced me to look away.

It felt like they were even closer to the ground than before.

In fact, they were descending. The first time I came here, they had been mere black dots high in the sky. But every time I entered this world, they moved a little closer—sometimes by a significant margin, sometimes just a subtle shift that was barely perceptible unless you were paying close attention. Yet I knew they were steadily falling. Perhaps one day, they would finally touch down. I wondered what kind of changes that might bring to this world. The thought was oddly thrilling.

"Still haven’t found it..."

A voice suddenly echoed across the sky, and the entire world began to shake violently. I knew it was time to leave.

Ding-ding-ding...

A shrill alarm jolted me awake from a deep dream. I forced my eyes open, shaking my groggy head as the spinning visuals in my vision slowly settled. It took a while before I could fully shake off the bizarre nightmare that had plagued me all night.

A strange dream...

I couldn’t remember when it started, but I kept having this same dream—walking alone through a lifeless metal world, surrounded by futuristic landscapes, the desolate atmosphere of an apocalypse hanging heavy in the air. Yet, despite the oppressive scenery, I never felt fear in the dream, as if everything was something I had long since grown accustomed to.

And at the end of every dream, the same voice would echo, sounding disappointed as it said:

"Still haven’t found it..."

...But it had never told me what exactly it was looking for.

What was this voice searching for? Or was it hoping I would find it for it?

The frustrating part was that I never found an answer in the dream.

I’d never told anyone about this dream. Though I didn’t know what it meant, my instincts told me it was significant—something important. And blurting it out to someone else would only bring me trouble.

"Monday..." I grumbled, unwillingly crawling out of bed. The early winter chill made me shiver, but I managed to resist the temptation of my warm blankets because if I didn’t hurry, I’d definitely be late for class—I had to show up before the dean forgot what I even looked like.

I was Chen Jun, a third-year high school student, an orphan with no parents or siblings. I’d been raised by a childless merchant couple, and after they passed away, it was just me and my five-years-older sister, Chen Qian, who had no blood relation to me, trying to make ends meet. Life was as bland as plain water, though at least it wasn’t cold water—we’d inherited a sizable fortune from our adoptive parents, so we weren’t struggling like other orphans. My sister, who had been managing the family business since she was young, treated me well enough that I could still feel the warmth of home.

As I was still pondering whether last night’s dream was any different from the others, my sister’s voice called from outside the door:

"Jun, are you up? It’s late!"

"Yeah, I’m coming!" I replied, quickly making my bed, throwing on clothes, and fumbling with my socks—only to realize halfway through that socks didn’t have a left or right. Eventually, I stumbled to the door, hair a mess. That was my morning routine in a nutshell.

Standing in the doorway was a beautiful girl with long hair, wearing a simple home dress, holding a spatula and a kitchen knife—her dangerous habit of cooking while armed hadn’t changed.

This was Chen Qian, my adoptive sister, five years older than me. Though she looked delicate, the fact that she had raised a troublemaking little brother like me to adulthood on her own spoke volumes about her strength. In every way imaginable, my sister was probably the toughest person in the world—no exaggeration. That was something I’d learned from years of experience.

"What’s wrong, Jun? Do I have something on my face?" she asked, her face flushing slightly as she looked flustered under my gaze.

"Ah, no, just thinking..." I said, heading for the door.

"Wait—didn’t you eat yet?"

"No time, I’m leaving!"

Canglan Private High School was a bona fide elite academy. Beyond its exorbitant tuition, its academic standards far surpassed those of public schools, making it a place that ordinary students could only dream of attending. The students here were either billionaires’ children, the offspring of the powerful, or nationally renowned prodigies—after all, a school needed more than just money to thrive; it needed impressive students to bolster its reputation. In short, this school was the perfect setting for a romantic drama, where Cinderella and Prince Charming marched in formation. If this place were in Korea, they wouldn’t even need to cast actors—it could double as a film set.

The reason I’m describing this school in such detail is that I attended its rival school—

K City No. 2 High School, my alma mater. The name alone reeked of mediocrity. By every measure, it was an unremarkable school, a stark contrast to the royal-garden-like elegance of Canglan Private High. Most of the students here couldn’t even name the brands their counterparts across the street wore every day. These two schools, separated by just one street, formed a famously stark juxtaposition.

And I was one of the students at this "ordinary" school. After all, while my sister and I weren’t poor, we were nowhere near the admission standards of Canglan. My brain, which relied on guessing for multiple-choice questions and fabricating answers for essays, wasn’t exactly elite-material.

"Jun!" A clear voice called from behind me. I turned to see a short-haired girl with a petite frame running toward me, her skirt fluttering and hair dancing in the wind like a small flower spinning in a spring breeze—well, if the wind hadn’t been so strong.

This was Xu Qianqian, one of my best friends, a childhood sweetheart. We’d grown up together, but after middle school, her family moved to another part of the city, and we saw each other less often. Still, our bond remained strong. When we both ended up at this school—which had both middle and high school divisions—we were thrilled, as if we’d reverted to our old routine.

By all accounts, an childhood friend like her had an 80% chance of becoming a romantic partner, ensuring a happy future for me—something we both believed. But for some reason, our relationship never progressed beyond that of close friends, stuck in a limbo between besties and lovers.

Was it because we were too familiar with each other?

After all, when you know every embarrassing detail of someone’s childhood—including how many times they wet the bed—it’s hard to see them as a romantic prospect.

"Jun, what are you thinking about?" Qianqian stopped in front of me, waving her hand in front of my face irritably.

"Oh, just introducing the female lead to the readers..."

Qianqian: "...?"

Just then, a sudden commotion drew our attention.