For more than twenty years, Nathan Cole thought of himself as a regular guy, living an ordinary life, doing everyday things, and assuming things would stay that way until his story reached its quiet, unremarkable end.

Yeah, that’s how he’d always thought about it—until recently, when those days started feeling like a distant memory.

The sky was overcast, dark clouds rolling in from the northeast, like a blanket of thick wool, spreading out over the whole city. The air was humid, heavy with the promise of rain that felt like it could start any minute.

With a couple bags of groceries and spices he’d just picked up, Nathan hurried across the street, blending into the thinning crowd as he made his way home under the darkening sky.

As he passed by a familiar store, he stopped out of habit, staring at the sign above the door, taking in every inch of it before moving on.

The streets were clearing out, the usual noise of the city quieting in the wake of the coming rain. Nathan glanced down the strip of shops ahead, their lights casting a glow over the deserted street. He’d seen this scene a hundred times, yet something stirred inside him—a feeling he couldn’t quite put into words.

Strangely enough, the city felt foreign to him. He’d lived in this massive place, known as Boundary City, his entire life, yet now, it felt like he barely recognized it.

The city no longer looked the way he remembered. Some places were eerily familiar, but others were just… off. The Boundary City he knew had never been this sprawling. He recalled the central tower as Maple Tower, not the current Council Spire. The shop at the corner of Regent Street used to be a blank wall, and his home certainly hadn’t been an enormous, crumbling wreck deep in the oldest part of the city.

More importantly, the city he remembered had never had so many…“odd” things. Strange relics seemed to have seeped into the landscape—like the random old-fashioned phone booths at certain street corners, steam-powered engines clanking across rooftops at night, classrooms empty but filled with the faint echo of lessons, and—

A tall, thin, shadowy figure under a streetlight, standing still as if it were part of the scenery.

Nathan looked up and saw it, standing motionless under the light, like a distorted mannequin at least twelve feet tall, with a face so dark he couldn’t make out any features. The thing seemed to notice him but stayed eerily still, holding Nathan’s gaze from across the street.

People walked past, crossing under the shadow’s long, bony arms without noticing, as if the thing wasn’t there at all. Some passed right through it, unaware.

Nathan was the only one who could see it.

After a few seconds of this pointless standoff, he turned away, willing his heart to steady as he took a different route home.

Nathan wasn’t sure if the city had changed or if it was something in him. But he remembered clearly: his “normal” life had slipped away one morning two months ago.

It had been a bright, sunny morning when he opened his front door, planning to grab some oranges from the corner store.

That was the last time he ever opened “his door,” and he hadn’t seen the home he remembered since.

He’d tried to reason it out. Maybe he’d somehow “crossed over”—taken one step through his door and landed in a world that looked a lot like his own, but wasn’t. Maybe the way back had vanished the second he stepped outside.

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Or maybe… something had happened to him. Maybe he’d changed. Somehow, his eyes could now see things hidden beneath the city’s surface. He might still be in the same place but couldn’t see the world he once knew.

But really, none of those explanations mattered.

One way or another, he could no longer return to the “normal” world of his memories. This vast, strange city felt like a forest without borders, trapping him within its dark, twisted branches and tangled vines. And two months had barely been enough time for him to start uncovering this “forest’s” secrets.

If nothing else, he’d managed to adjust enough to start a “daily routine” in this new, familiar-yet-alien home.

At least he was still “Nathan Cole” in this warped Boundary City. He had his ID, an official address, a bit of money saved, and a job that barely paid the bills. If this really was some kind of “crossover,” at least he’d been spared the usual “Who am I? Where am I? Where do I get my papers?” issues that tended to plague travelers in unfamiliar worlds.

In a place like Boundary City, where modern life was tightly managed, those issues were vital. A newcomer trying to avoid “off-the-grid” status here would have a hard time.

Of course, if he’d landed in a chaotic old society or some lawless alternate world, he might’ve had other concerns—like being mistaken for an enemy spy, a monstrous invader, or even a quick meal for something lurking in a cave.

These bizarre thoughts flitted through his mind as he wound through the backstreets of Boundary City, headed for “home” by a different path.

The sky grew darker still, and with it, the strange sights seemed to multiply.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan caught shadows flickering across an old building’s worn-out wall. A sleek, dark cat leapt from one of the shadows, climbing up a beam of light and meowing in his direction before dissolving with the raindrops, splashing into puddles on the ground.

The rain was coming down harder now, earlier than expected.

The wind turned cold, slipping into his jacket and sending a chill down his spine.

Nathan swore under his breath, pulling the grocery bag over his head as he sped up.

If not for that shadow by the streetlight, he would’ve taken the main road home—a quicker route. Sure, his place was strange and unsettling, but at least it offered shelter.

He felt a twinge of regret as he thought about the shadow.

In his experience, these strange sightings were usually harmless. As long as he didn’t provoke them, they’d ignore him, much like how most people ignored them. But despite knowing that, he still tended to avoid anything that looked too… off. Today, though, his detour seemed like the wrong move.

The cold felt sharper now, harsher than any ordinary rain.

Nathan noticed his breath turning into mist, the raindrops feeling like sharp nails, hard and icy, stinging as they hit him.

The ground below him, slick with freezing rain, was starting to look like a glassy mirror.

An enormous wave of dread jolted him, alerting him to something far beyond the strange he was used to. Even in this bizarre city, he had never experienced anything like this.

Unlike the mostly benign “shadows” he’d seen, this rain felt… hostile.

He looked up quickly, noticing that the once-busy street was now empty. The dim lights in the distance were blurred and hazy, the narrow alley seeming to stretch out with no end in sight. The closed-in buildings offered no escape; there was only the rain, cold and relentless.

It felt like the whole world was raining just for him.

Nathan took a sharp breath, running toward the closest door he could see—a rusty iron one that looked like it might belong to a shop’s back entrance. Whatever it was, he needed help.

The rain’s icy needles pierced the air, every breath stinging his lungs.

In just a few steps, he reached the door and pounded on it, “Hello? Anyone—”

He froze, eyes wide.

His hand had hit solid wall; the door was painted onto the wall.

The windows nearby? Painted, too.

A soft rustling sound came from somewhere close.

Slowly, Nathan turned toward the source of the sound.

Amid the icy, blade-like rain, a monstrous form rose from the watery surface below—a hulking figure emerging from the darkness, solidifying as it stared coldly at Nathan.

It was a frog, nearly three feet high, its head covered in countless tiny, glistening eyes, its body reflecting the icy rain pouring down around them.

The frog opened its mouth, a long, razor-sharp tongue shooting straight at Nathan’s chest.

“Oh, hell no…”

Nathan’s instincts kicked in, and his reflexes were faster than his mouth—he darted to the side, pulling a collapsible baton from his pocket, lunging forward—

The frog’s tongue swerved, spearing him through the back.

Nathan blinked, staring at the tongue protruding from his chest, feeling his own heart beating frantically at the tip.

“Get your damn tongue off… my heart,” he thought, the words echoing in his mind.

And then he died.