The house at the edge of town was nothing more than a ruin.
At least, that was what people believed.
Its broken walls leaned like the spine of a dying beast, ivy choking the stones. Windows were shattered, the roof half collapsed. At night, the place swallowed moonlight, whispering rumors of ghosts. Anyone bold enough to peek inside found only dust and debris—wood splinters, cracked floors, silence.
To the world, it was abandoned.
But to Catherine Obelia, it was home.
From her perspective, the ruined walls shimmered, folding into sleek white corridors, glass windows, and glowing blue panels of technology. Chandeliers sparkled above velvet floors. The cracked ceilings in one world became arched skylights in another.
She sat on the couch of her otherworldly home, legs folded neatly beneath her, a book unopened on her lap. Her silver hair, long and smooth, brushed against the soft cushions. Her emerald-green eyes, however, weren't on the book. They were fixed on the empty glass walls where she could see shadows moving.
Humans. Again.
"Father…" Catherine's voice was soft, almost like the hush of falling snow.
From the adjoining room, a tired man in a lab coat stepped out. His hair was streaked with gray, though he wasn't old—just worn from too many years of work. Kaelos Obelia, scientist and father, pushed his glasses up and sighed when he saw her expression.
"They've come again?"
"Yes." Catherine's fingers tightened on the book. "They… wander inside. Every week. Even though there is nothing for them to find."
"To them, there is nothing," Kaelos corrected, walking over and resting a hand on her shoulder. "To us, there is everything. Remember that, Catherine."
She pressed her lips together, then lowered her gaze. She remembered. The house existed in two dimensions at once. Outsiders could never see its true form. Even if they stepped through the broken door, all they would ever find were ruins.
But the fact that they came so often… it stirred something inside her chest.
Loneliness.
Her younger sister, Carolyne, peeked from behind the kitchen doorway, biting into an apple. "Ignore them, sister. They're noisy. Like stray dogs sniffing around."
Catherine frowned faintly. "Stray dogs are still alive, Carolyne."
"Alive, but useless," Carolyne retorted, her short blonde hair bouncing as she walked over. Unlike Catherine's calm composure, Carolyne was fiery and sharp-eyed—a restless spirit caged in the same hidden house.
Kaelos shook his head. "Both of you. Enough." His voice grew stern. "The world outside isn't safe. There are people who want the Gem of Life—and they will never stop searching for it." His eyes softened slightly as he looked at Catherine. "That is why you must never, never go outside. Do you understand?"
Catherine lowered her head. "I understand…"
But her heart whispered something else.
She wanted to see.
To feel.
To breathe the world beyond the glass walls of her prison.
And that whisper grew louder each time she heard humans talk outside.
---
That evening, when strangers once again entered the ruined husk of her house, Catherine lingered by the hidden window. Their voices echoed faintly through the dimension barrier.
"…I swear, if you climb the mountain hills near the coast, you can see everything. The ocean. The sunset. The wind on your face—it's unreal."
"Yeah? Sounds like paradise. Wish we had the time to go."
Their laughter faded, but the words had already lodged deep inside her.
Mountain hills. Ocean. Sunset. Wind.
Her hands trembled. Her heart raced.
For seventeen years, she had obeyed her father. For seventeen years, she had been silent.
Tonight, she would disobey.
---
Late at night, when Kaelos was in his study and Carolyne fast asleep, Catherine stood before the dimensional control panel her father had built. Its crystalline core pulsed faintly with blue light.
Her reflection in the glass looked back at her—eyes uncertain, lips pressed tight.
"…Just once," she whispered to herself. "Just once, to see."
Her finger hovered.
And then, she pressed it.
The hum of machinery surged. The barrier flickered. The dimension shifted.
And Catherine Obelia stepped out into the real world for the first time.
---
The night air slapped her face, cool and sharp. The scent of earth and stone filled her lungs. The streets beyond the ruins were alive with lights—lamps, cars, voices. It was all overwhelming, yet exhilarating.
She tightened her cloak and walked quickly, heart pounding. Everything was strange—too bright, too loud. People brushed past her, muttering greetings or apologies. She had no words to reply.
And then—
Bump.
Her shoulder collided with someone's chest. She stumbled back.
"Ah—sorry, my bad," the boy said immediately, scratching the back of his head. He had unruly red hair, tired eyes, and a casual jacket over worn-out clothes. Isaac Fareplay.
Catherine blinked at him, expression blank. It was clearly her fault—she hadn't been looking—but he had apologized.
Strange.
"…Where," she said suddenly, her voice flat, "are the mountain hills? The ones where you can see the ocean?"
Isaac tilted his head. "…Mountain hills? You mean the ones near the coast? Uh, yeah, I know the way. Are you… lost? You don't sound like you're from around here."
Her eyes narrowed faintly. "…Will you take me there?"
"Uh." He blinked at her directness. "I can. But… should I? You don't even know me."
Catherine remembered her father's warning. Never trust anyone.
Her heart wavered.
But then she remembered the voices of those strangers. The promise of sunset and ocean.
Slowly, she nodded. "…Take me there."
Isaac exhaled in disbelief, then smiled faintly. "Alright then. Guess I've got nothing better to do. Let's go."
Neither of them realized shadowed figures had already spotted her.
And so began the night when Catherine Obelia stepped into the real world… and fate introduced her to the boy who would one day promise her the sunset.