Veil of the Vanguard

The rumble of the bus filled Lena's ears as she blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She found herself sitting on the back row of a large, public bus moving steadily down a quiet road.

The windows were smudged with dirt, and the dim evening light cast murky shadows across the empty seats. Aside from two elderly passengers in the middle row and a middle-aged woman up front, the bus was practically deserted.

Lena clenched the cold metal of the seat in front of her, her heart pounding. She had no idea how she got there—or where here even was. A sinking feeling churned in her stomach. This had to be the webtoon world again, but why was she back?

Lena couldn't stay still any longer. With shaky legs, she stood and gripped the metal poles lining the aisle to steady herself. Making her way down the bus, she approached an elderly man with white hair and a kind, weathered face.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice trembling. "Where… where are we?"

The old man looked up from the window and smiled warmly.

"Pekerson," he said cheerfully, adjusting his glasses. "Right here in Sklinden City. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Lena blinked, struggling to make sense of his words. Pekerson? Sklinden City? The names were unfamiliar, yet they tugged at a faint memory. She recalled the police officers from her last encounter mentioning Sklinden—apparently a prominent city in this strange place. There was no doubt now; these fictional locations seemed to exist solely in this bizarre world.

Her visible confusion made the man's warm smile waver slightly, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you alright, young lady?" he asked kindly.

Forcing a tight smile, Lena nodded.

"Yes… I'm fine. Thank you."

But she wasn't fine—far from it. With nothing else to say, Lena stumbled back to her seat at the rear of the bus, her heart hammering as the vehicle rumbled onward.

---

By the time the other passengers had gotten off at their stops, Lena was the only one left. Darkness deepened outside, shrouding the streets in shadows. She sat frozen, too terrified to speak to the driver.

Finally, the bus pulled into a small depot and came to a groaning stop. The driver shut off the engine and slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing when he spotted Lena still sitting in the back.

"What the...?" the driver barked, his voice laced with irritation as he turned to look at her. "Why are you still here? You didn't think to say anything earlier? I could've dropped you at your stop!"

"I… I'm sorry," Lena stammered, her voice trembling as she clutched her bag and hurried off the bus, her heart pounding.

"Yeah, sure, blame it on the drugs," he snapped, shaking his head. "Look at you, completely out of it!"

His annoyance flared. Encounters like this weren't new to him. Stranded passengers—often high or drunk—frequently ended up on his bus, too disoriented to know where they were going. It was part of the job, but it never made it any less aggravating.

"...I'm really sorry," Lena mumbled again, her voice barely audible as she stepped onto the pavement.

The driver muttered something under his breath, but Lena ignored him, her chest tightening with fear as she stepped into the cool night air.

---

The bus depot was eerily quiet, lit by flickering streetlights that cast long, distorted shadows on the pavement. Lena glanced around anxiously, her pulse quickening at the memory of being ambushed by kidnappers again.

She moved quickly, her footsteps echoing against the asphalt until she spotted a glass-covered waiting area. Inside, there was a bench and a dusty telephone booth. The sight of a secure place to rest filled her with relief, and she slipped inside, collapsing onto the bench with a heavy sigh.

Her hands trembled as she fumbled for the phone inside the booth.

'Maybe I can call Emily or Dad...'

The thought of hearing a familiar voice filled her with a sliver of hope.

With shaky fingers, she dialed Emily's number. She pressed the receiver to her ear, waiting for the comforting sound of the ringtone. Instead, an automated voice crackled through:

"The number you have dialed does not exist. Please check the number and try again."

Lena's breath hitched. Her stomach twisted as she tried again, this time punching in the digits carefully.

"0-2-2... 0-8-7... 6-7..." she whispered shakily, her fingers trembling as she pressed the buttons.

"The number you have dialed does not exist—"

The phone slipped from her hand, clattering against the metal floor of the booth. Lena stumbled out and onto the bench, her chest heaving. Emily's number didn't exist?

"This can't be happening," she whispered, pressing her trembling hands to her face.

Minutes felt like hours as Lena sat in the waiting area, hoping that the portal that had brought her here would take her back. She stared out at the dark, empty streets, her mind racing with thoughts of alternate worlds and the impossible situation she was in.

Growing up, Lena had read books and theories about alternate realities, but this? A webtoon world? It was absurd. Yet, here she was.

She stared down at her hands, pressing them together to test if she was made of paper or something flat, like a comic character. No—her skin was warm and solid. She was flesh and bone, just as in the real world.

The faint sound of wind suddenly reached her ears, and she glanced up. A strange gust swept through the waiting area, unnaturally fast and cold. It sent shivers down her spine, but the trees and grass outside remained perfectly still, unaffected by the wind's force.

Her breath caught when she looked at her wristwatch. The hands began to move—slowly at first, then faster and faster until they spun wildly in a blur of motion.

"No, no, no…" she whispered, clutching her wrist in panic.

The air around her grew heavy and charged, almost like static. A blinding light suddenly filled the waiting area, forcing Lena to shield her eyes.

When the light dimmed, Lena lowered her arm, her jaw dropping in shock. The darkness was gone, replaced by the golden glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the glass.

She glanced at her wristwatch.

13:00.

It wasn't just afternoon now. Something was different—entirely wrong.

As she stepped out of the waiting area, her surroundings came into sharp focus. The once-empty street was bustling with life. People walked in groups, chatting as they waited for buses. Cars zipped by, their horns honking impatiently.

Lena's stomach churned violently. Time hadn't just passed—it had jumped. Her eyes landed on a nearby billboard displaying the current date, and her breath hitched as realization struck. The last date she had seen while sitting in the waiting booth was a full week ago.

One week.

Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. For her, it had felt like mere moments. But for everyone else in this world? Life had continued as usual. They'd gone to work, attended parties, run errands—all while Lena had remained in one spot for what she thought was only a few minutes.

"How is this happening?" she muttered under her breath, stumbling back into the glass-covered waiting area.

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the bench, her head spinning as panic gripped her. Alternate dimensions, time dilation—she'd read about such concepts in fantasy novels. But experiencing them firsthand? It was nothing short of terrifying.

Her gaze dropped to the wristwatch strapped to her arm. Its hands ticked steadily again, the eerie spinning from earlier now gone. She stared at the watch, dread pooling in her stomach.

She barely had time to process the unsettling sensation creeping over her when a young man approached the waiting booth. Dressed in a casual jacket and jeans, he paused at the entrance, his curious eyes locking on Lena.

At first, she thought he was just passing by, but he hesitated, then walked into the booth. Without a word, he sat down beside her on the bench, his movements deliberate.

Lena shifted uncomfortably, her pulse quickening.

The man turned to her, his brows furrowed as he studied her face intently. Then his expression lit up with sudden recognition.

"Oh! I know you!" he exclaimed, his voice loud enough to draw a few passing glances from outside the booth.

Lena's head snapped toward him, confusion etched across her face.

"What… what do you mean?"

"You're that missing girl!" he said, his tone brimming with certainty.

"The cops have been looking for you all week!"