A World Unknown

A gentle breeze carried the scent of damp leaves, mingling with the fragrance of wildflowers and the earthy freshness of morning dew. Hasan stood frozen, his eyes locked on the woman just a few steps ahead. He still couldn’t believe it—her face... was so much like Karin’s, his late wife. But her eyes were filled with suspicion, not love. Her gaze sharp, her stance guarded—not the Karin he knew.

“Who are you two?” the woman asked warily, her hand reaching for the dagger strapped to her belt.

Hasuna gripped Hasan’s hand tighter, breathing rapidly as he hid behind his father’s body. Hasan slowly raised both hands, trying to show they meant no harm.

“My name is Hasan. This is my son, Hasuna. We... we don’t know how we got here.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, scanning their clothes—Hasuna’s soaked school uniform, Hasan’s thin jacket torn in places.

“You’re not from this village. And... your clothes are really strange,” she murmured.

Hasan swallowed. He had no idea what to say. This wasn’t the city He know. Not even His Country. This world looked like it had stepped out of a storybook—rolling meadows, wooden villages, and... people armed with blades.

“We mean no harm. We just... want to go home,” Hasan said softly.

The woman remained cautious, but her expression softened just slightly.

“My name is also Karin,” she finally said, still hesitant. “I live in Kinahrejo Village. But you shouldn’t be standing here. This isn’t a public path. Come with me.”

Hasan froze. Karin. That name hit his chest like a wave. But he didn’t dare ask more. Not yet. He simply followed her, with Hasuna by his side, along the stone-paved path that led into the gentle hills.

The short walk felt strange and tense. Occasionally, Hasuna looked up at his father, his eyes still red, though curiosity slowly grew within them. This world felt real—too real to be a dream. The unfamiliar bird calls, the scent of the air, even the ground beneath their feet pulsed with life. As if the world itself breathed on its own.

Kinahrejo Village emerged over the hill. Thatched-roof wooden homes clustered around a small plaza. The villagers stared at them, puzzled and wary. A few children paused their play when they saw Hasan and Hasuna.

“Don’t speak too much. You stand out. I’ll explain to the village chief later,” Karin whispered.

Hasan nodded. They were led to a small house at the edge of the village. It was simple, warm, and clean. Karin offered them dry clothes, plain but serviceable—though a bit oversized.

“You can rest here for tonight. But tomorrow... we need to talk about what’s happened. I don’t believe this is just coincidence.”

Hasan stared at Karin’s face for a long time, long enough that she finally looked away. He wanted to ask, to tell her that he knew her—or someone who looked just like her. But the words wouldn’t come.

Night fell quickly. Outside, the sky was wide and star-filled, far brighter than the one above any city. Inside that humble wooden house, Hasan sat beside his sleeping son. Hasuna’s breathing was steady, peaceful, though his little body still held the weight of the journey.

Hasan gently brushed his son’s hair. Then he looked up at the wooden ceiling.

“If this is a dream... please don’t wake me just yet.”

But deep in his heart, he knew—it wasn’t a dream.
This was the beginning of something far greater than anything he had ever faced.

Hasan couldn’t sleep that night. He sat beside the wooden window, staring at the astonishingly clear sky. The stars felt close, almost touchable. The night air was cool and even calming. But his thoughts kept spinning.

That woman—Karin. Why did she look exactly like his late wife? Was it just coincidence? Was this world merely a construct of his grieving mind, or a real alternate world like those isekai stories he’d glanced through in Hasuna’s manga?

He remembered the last time he held his wife. When the lake swallowed everything in chaos and despair. His heart twisted as the memory returned. But now, seeing that same face, that same voice, that same form—it crushed him anew.

Morning came quickly. Sunlight crept through the cracks in the window. The smell of corn porridge and herbal tea greeted Hasan as he opened the door to the small room where he and Hasuna had slept. Karin was already sitting in the main room, dressed in a plain pale-brown outfit. She looked like a young soldier from a forgotten time—poised and dignified.

“Did you sleep?” she asked, sipping her tea.

“Not much,” Hasan replied honestly.

Hasuna was still fast asleep, his small body wrapped tightly in a thick blanket. Hasan glanced at him briefly before sitting across from Karin.

“So, you really have no idea how you got here?” Karin asked, this time more calmly.

“We were... walking in the rain. I was talking about my wife—her name was also Karin. She died three months ago. Hasuna mentioned something about the ‘third rain’ and—before I realized it, there was a bright light and... we ended up here.”

Karin was silent. She stared at Hasan intently. There was no sign she thought he was crazy.

“So you came from another world...” she said softly.

Hasan nodded. “I know it sounds impossible. But what we experienced feels completely real.”

Karin stood and walked to the window. “I’ve heard old legends... about a ‘Sky Gate’ that opens at certain times. But it was always just bedtime stories the elders told kids who wouldn’t sleep.”

She turned. “But seeing you here... maybe the stories were true.”

Hasan nodded slowly. Then he looked at her carefully.

“I know this sounds strange... but you look exactly like my wife. Same name, same face. Only... your personality is different.”

Karin looked back at him. For a long time, she said nothing.

“Maybe... because I’m not her. But I want to know about her. About me... in your world.”

Hasan swallowed hard. His heart warmed and ached at the same time.

“She was cheerful, full of life. Stubborn at times, but always put family first. She gave her life to save Hasuna.”

Karin smiled faintly. “Sounds... a bit like me too.”

They both laughed quietly. For the first time, there was a faint sense of ease between them.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to see the village chief,” said Karin. “If you really are from another world... we need to learn more. There’s something much bigger at play here.”

Hasan nodded. For the first time since Karin’s death, he felt his heart beat again. Still broken, but alive.

And outside the window, the blue sky stretched on.

A new beginning—one he never imagined.