Prologue - The Night Shift That Never Ended

I didn’t want this job.
Or any job, really.

But my parents forced me into it after I dropped out of college and got stuck leeching off their food, electricity, and Wi-Fi.

And now… here I am.

My name? It’s written on my uniform’s nametag. Or it used to be. I crossed it out with a permanent marker. Not the most professional move, sure, but nobody cares. Customers never use it anyway.

Just a quick, “Thanks, Clerk!”

Worst of all? It’s the night shift. My nights don’t end until five in the morning.

Normally, I’d be asleep by two a.m.—after watching anime on my phone and munching snacks. But now? I’m stuck forcing my eyes open until dawn. If this keeps up, my dark circles are going to get so bad I’ll look like some hollow-eyed monster out of a horror flick.

Great. Just what every young man dreams of becoming.

The store isn’t much better. It’s buried in a quiet corner of the city, which means the shifts are mind-numbingly dull. By day it’s boring. By night? It’s torture. Half the time I’m fighting sleep just standing behind the counter.

To keep myself awake, I’ve developed what I like to call my “iconic” store routine. Why “iconic”? Because I’m the only one pathetic enough to do it.

Restock the snacks, drinks, and instant noodles every time a shelf looks even slightly touched.
Mop after customers, erasing every muddy footprint like it’s a personal insult.
Rearrange the chip bags until the rows are perfectly straight—because, apparently, I’m the only one who notices.

Sometimes I’ll grab my favorite drink—Clearsparko’s Sparkling Water. I swear I can’t live without it.

And when the boredom really hits, I’ll pick up the barcode scanner, aim it like a gun, and whisper, “Pew… pew.”

It’s stupid. But if I stop moving, I’ll probably collapse right here on the floor.

The customers who do show up are always the same.

Drunk businessmen stumble in, faces red, desperately reaching for sports drinks as if hydration alone will wash away the alcohol on their breath. I keep a mop ready for when they nearly pass out on the counter.

Then there are groups of college kids—my age or younger—laughing too loud as they dump piles of beer onto the register. Sometimes they glance at me like I should join them. But then their eyes flick to the uniform, the lifeless expression, and they realize I’m not “one of them.”

And finally, the tourists. Wide-eyed, fascinated by every little thing. They take selfies in the snack aisle like it’s a museum exhibit. Worst of all, some of them angle their cameras so I end up in the background.

I don’t want my face floating around the internet.

…Annoying. Every single one of them.

When the last customer leaves, the store falls silent.

The ceiling lights buzz faintly. The freezers hum. Outside, thunder rumbles in the distance.

Weird. I didn’t hear anything about a storm tonight.

Through the glass doors, raindrops streak the windows. The empty street glistens beneath a single flickering streetlamp. Each gust of wind makes its light bend, stretching shadows across the wet pavement.

Something about the scene feels… wrong.

I shake my head, smirking weakly. “What am I doing? Getting spooked by bad weather now?”

A shelf in the snack aisle has a missing bag of chips, so I grab a box and start restocking.

“So this is my life now, huh?”

The words slip out before I notice. My hand lingers on the bag, staring at it.

“I can’t believe I sank this low… all because I never thought about the consequences. I could’ve achieved something. I had chances—people practically handed them to me. But I just…”

The empty aisle throws my voice back at me, like I’m in an abandoned building.

“…I just didn’t take any of them.”

The words taste bitter, like old coffee.

I sigh, finish lining the bag with the others, and shuffle back to the counter. Dropping my head onto the cold surface, I lie there listening to the storm.

The rain grows heavier, hammering the roof. The lights buzz harder, almost crackling.

It feels like the whole store is holding its breath.

“Man… what if this whole store just got teleported to another world? At least I wouldn’t have to deal with this life. Or these customers. Or any of it anymore…”

…Wait. Why did I even mention the store? It’s me who wants to get away from everything…

My eyelids droop. I yawn. My “iconic” routine has failed—no customers for hours, the shelves already neat, nothing left to keep me awake.

“Pew… pew…” I mumble, weakly raising the scanner.

It slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.

I don’t even care anymore. My mind begins to drift…

The lights flicker—harder this time, longer.

My eyes snap open.

The freezers whine, rising into a sharp, electric shriek. The storm outside roars. The streetlamp bends unnaturally, its glow dripping across the pavement like liquid.

“…Okay. That’s not normal.”

I shiver. The counter feels icy beneath my palms. The rain isn’t falling anymore—it’s slamming against the doors like fists.

And then—

BZZZZZT—!

Blinding white light floods the store.

I cover my ears, squeeze my eyes shut.

When I open them again—

The shelves, the freezers, the counter… they’re all still here.

But outside the glass doors—

The rainy city street is gone.

In its place: an endless forest beneath a sky split by two blazing moons