The clo Ms. Caldwin's ticked with excruciating slowness, each sed dragging like ay. Remi sat in the back row, barely registering her expnation of polynomial funs. The empty seat beside him where Andrew usually sat felt like a void—his friend had texted earlier about being home sick, though Remi suspected it had more to do with avoiding Shawn after yesterday's frontation.
Through the window, he could see the parent pickup line already f. His mother would be there soon, precisely on schedule—another of his father's new rules desigo keep him under stant supervision. No more walking home, no more stopping at the ic shop with Johnny, no more pretending he had any trol over his own life.
Eddie Enfield sat two rows ahead, occasionally turning to smirk at Remi. He'd been unusually quiet today, which probably meant he nning something. That's how it always went—the quiet days were just the calm before aorm of "social adjustment," as Shawn's crew liked to call it.
The final bell rang through the halls, releasing a flood of pent-up energy as students rushed to escape. Remi took his time pag up, watg Eddie disappear into the crowd. He'd learo be careful about timing, about avoiding the wrong corridors at the wrong moments. It was exhausting, this stant strategic thinking, this endless calcution of risks and escape routes.
At his locker, he stood watg other students stream past toward waiting cars and buses. A group of girls walked by, Tawnee among them. She caught his eye for a moment, started to smile, then quickly looked away as Liza whispered something that made the h. The sound cut through him like gss, adding one more small wound to his colle.
His mother would be arriving soon, punctual as always. He could picture exactly how the evening would unfold: the quiet drive home, his father waiting with that look of perpetual disappoi, another lecture about responsibility and living up to expectations. The puter was still gone, his phoripped of everything but basis, his life shrinking smaller every day.
He should go wait by the frorance. He khat. Just like he khat walking away now would only make things worse. Mroundings. More lectures. More disappoi.
But the thought of going home, of fag another evening under his father's watchful eye, made his chest tight with something close to panic. Without really deg to, he shouldered his backpad slipped out the side door, away from the parent pickup line where his mother would be waiting.
Twenty mier, he found himself at the edge of town, where suburban wns gave way to patches of sd and fotten lots. His feet carried him past the GameStop where he and Johnny spent too many afternoons dreaming about games they couldn't afford, past the diner where his father used to take him for pancakes before everything ged, past all the familiar ndmarks of a life that felt increasingly like it beloo someone else.
The first hour slipped by in a haze of motion. His phone buzzed repeatedly—his mother's ringto first, then his father's more insistent tone. He could picture the progression of worry to anger, could almost hear his father's voice: "This is exactly what I'm talking about. No sense of responsibility..." He left the phone unanswered in his pocket, each missed call another bri the wall of punishment that awaited him.
The sed hour found him walking along the uter rail line, kig loose stones betweeracks. The rails stretched ahead like infinite possibilities, each curve promising somewhere else, anywhere else. A train roared past, the wind of its passage tugging at his clothes, and for a brief moment he imagined himself aboard, carried away to some distant city where no one knew his name or his failures.
By the third hour, the te afternoon sun cast long shadows across the gravel, and the metal rails gleamed dully in the fading light. His legs ached from walking, but he weled the pain—it was ho, at least, uhe twisted knot of emotions in his chest. Arain passed, slower this time, its windows lit from within. He caught glimpses of passengers immersed in their phones or books or versations, each living their own story, none of them aware of the boy watg from the tracks.
His phone had fallen silent now. Perhaps they'd given up trying to reach him. Or perhaps they were already calling the police, filing a missing perso, setting in motion the maery of authority that would eventually drag him back. He left the phone unanswered, knowing each minute of silence was just adding to the punishment that would eventually e.
The industrial district stretched around him, a maze of abandoned warehouses and -link fences. Here, at least, no one would look for him. No one would expect to find Michael Halistaad's son among the graffiti-covered walls and broken windows.
A car engine growled behind him.
Remi's shoulders te the familiar sound—a exhaust system he'd heard too many times in the school parking lot. He quied his pace, veering away from the road toward the retive safety of the rail yard.
"Hey, Halistaad!" The voice carried over the rumble of the engine. "Going somewhere?"
Gravel ched uires as the car pulled alongside the tracks. Remi didn't o look to know who it was—one of the jocks whurly joined Shawn's "social adjustments," as they liked to call their harassment. The kind of guy who saw a loarget and couldn't resist.
"What's wrong?" Another voice joined in. "Too good to say hello?"
Remi broke into a run.
Car doors smmed behind him. Footsteps pounded on gravel. They were following him on foot now, probably enjoying the chase. This wasn't school, with its cameras and withis was their ce to finish what they'd started ihroom.
The rail yard opened up ahead—a maze of switg tracks and abandoned cargo tainers. Remi darted between two rusty tainers, his heart hammering against his ribs. If he could just lose them in the maze, find somewhere to hide until they got bored...
A figure stepped out from behind a tainer. Remi skidded to a stop, nearly losing his ban the loose gravel. The man looked homeless, his clothes ragged, his face obscured by a wild beard. But something about his posture seemed wrong—too deliberate, too aware.
"Careful there, kid." The man's voice carried an odd at Remi couldn't pce. "These tracks be dangerous."
Footsteps approached from behind. Remi was trapped betweeranger and his pursuers, with tainer walls oher side. The setting sun painted everything in shades of red and gold, turning the se surreal.
A train whistle echoed in the distance.
The stranger reached toward him.
The stranger's hand seemed to move in slow motion, reag for Remi with deliberate purpose. Behind him, the jocks' footsteps grew closer, their taunting calls now tinged with something darker. The train whistle sounded again, closer this time, its cry taking on an almost mournful quality.
Remi stood frozeween threats, his mind rag through options that grew more impossible with each passing sed. The tainer walls rose like prison bars oher side. The gravel ched beh his feet as he shifted his weight, preparing to... to what? Fight? Run? There was nowhere left to go.
"Time to go home, kid," the stranger said, but the words held an impossible weight, as if "home" meant something far beyond the house where his father waited with disappoi and punishment. The man's eyes seemed to glow in the deepening shadows, refleg something a and knowing.
The jocks were close enough now that Remi could hear their bored breathing. "o run now, Halistaad!" one called out, his voice eg off the metal tainers. Anhed—a sharp, cruel sound that cut through the evening air.
The train's horn bsted again, impossibly close. The tracks beh Remi's feet began to vibrate. Instinct screamed at him to move, to get away from the approag danger, but the stranger's hand was inches from his shoulder now, and the jocks had closed off his escape route.
Time seemed to stretch like taffy, eaent expanding iernity. Remi saw everything with crystalline crity: the rust patterns on the tainer walls, the way the setting sun paihe stranger's beard with streaks of fire, the deadly certainty in the man's eyes. This wasn't just a homeless man who had wandered into the rail yard. This was something else entirely—something that had been waiting for him.
The stranger's fingers brushed Remi's shoulder just as the train burst into view, its headlight cutting through the gathering dusk like a sword. In that blinding moment, Remi thought he saw other shapes moving behind the man—impossible shapes that his mind couldn't quite grasp. The ground lurched beh his feet, or maybe the whole world shifted, and suddenly he was falling.
The train's horn drowned out everything else, being a physical force that pressed against his ears. The st thing Remi saw was the stranger's faow calm and almost sorrowful, as if watg the iable clusion of a long-pn.
Then darkness swept in like a tide, and Remi Halistaad—the boy who had tried to outrun his life—slipped away from this world entirely. His sciousness scattered like leaves in a storm, spinning through impossible spaces betweeies.
In another world, in aime, an egg rocked gently in its . Something stirred within, reag for a new beginning.
The rail yard grew quiet again. The train thundered past, its wheels clig against the tracks in a steady rhythm. The jocks stood frozen, their faces pale in the fading light, trying to process what they had just witnessed. But the stranger was gone as if he had never been there at all, leaving only questions that would never be answered and a story that would bee local legend.
And somewhere, in a reality that operated on different rules entirely, a ory was about to begin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter End
FINALLY for all of those waiting to see the beginning of the transition to Isekai. 3 chapters going up all at on a couple days. They're really short but I still felt a o make them a 3 parter rather than 3 in 1. Advanced Chapters are on my Patreon finally! More being uploaded every day.
I’m putting my Discord el back up on perma invite:
https://disc/NYjPU3auVy
Join Me and some other people to talk shop, discuss artwork, stories, chatter, or just share fun videos or memes!
I’ll put this link in other chapters as well.
Also, feel free to PM me if you have any questions or wanna ent.
TTFN Everyone.