Drifting Embers
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[ATC]: 1 - Welcome, traveller, to the Crossroads
🕑 Added 2025-02-16 14:31:41 +0000 UTCBlurb -
"When the end draws near, you shall find yourself at the Crossroads."
Another night gone by. Another meaningless day. Alex collapses from exhaustion, expecting to wake up in his own place.
Instead, he finds himself in a tavern. Before him—a quest, a reward, and a choice.
But this is no ordinary bar. It is a gateway to all realities, where wishes are granted, deals are struck, and every desire comes at a price.
With nothing to go back to, what is a man to do when offered everything?
Welcome, traveler, to the Crossroads. You may buy whatever you desire—but be prepared to pay the price.
At The Crossroads is a new project I'm starting. Monster Girl Menagerie will remain priority, but you can now look forward to two series instead of just one. That said, I need help from some readers who would be willing to provide their feedback and pick out points of improvements for this story. For the time being, this fiction will strictly remain on the Patreon, and available to all tiers.
The sky was a burnt orange.
Alex stared up, his eyes locked on the clouds, his mind empty of thoughts and emotions. Blinking, he lowered his head and continued to walk. His stride was short, sluggish and spoke of his distressed state.
He waded through the mass of people, occasionally catching glimpses of smiles on their faces. He wondered—what made them so happy?
Lately, he realized he wondered about that often. But each time, he shook his head, pushed the thought aside, and carried on with his task—just like always.
Alex took a breath, the taste of smoke settling on his tongue. It was stale, bitter—just like his life. None of the pedestrians seemed to notice its harshness.
He walked along the sidewalk, hands tucked in his pockets. Turning a corner, Alex saw a line of people waiting for the bus—so he joined them. On weekends like these the bus would take longer than usual to arrive.
While waiting, he took his phone out of his coat pocket and checked the time.
6:23
5 more minutes—he thought, as he put his phone back into his pocket. In the mornings, he would pick a shadowed corner to huddle in. At this time of day—when the sun had nearly set beyond the horizon—finding a nondescript corner was nearly impossible. He settled for the next best thing: behind the crowd of people.
The bus arrived, and everyone boarded.
The inside smelled of exhaust fumes and body odor. A low buzz of conversation carried on from the passengers. In the midst of the noisy chatter, Alex sat limply in his seat, staring out the window.
Occasionally, he would catch a snippet of conversation from the other passengers. Their lives seemed vibrant, in contrast to his colorless existence. What exactly am I missing? He pondered.
As he watched the streets disappear in a blur, Alex thought back to his life up until now—from his school days to his current corporate life. His entire existence felt like a grey thread, fraying from the inside.
He had always felt a hallow ache in his chest—a sense of emptiness that he couldn't quite make sense of. It ate away at his emotions, leaving him an empty husk. Maybe that was why he had become estranged from his family and had never been able to make new friends.
Everything seemed dull—lifeless.
Alex was lost in his thoughts. When the bus came to a stop, he was roused by the rush of passengers exiting the vehicle. He followed them, his footsteps echoing against the metal floor, and stepped off.
His walk back to the apartment building was monotonous. His appearance attracted no second glances; his customary attire somehow rendered him a part of the unremarkable background. The sun had long set by the time he started his ascent up the stairs.
The stairwell was silent, the shadows appearing darker in the corners. Alex climbed up to the second floor, his knees aching. He walked briskly to his apartment door and inserted the key into the lock. Turning the knob and pushing the door open, he stepped inside.
After turning the lights on, he closed the door behind him. The interior was spacious, but much like his appearance, it was less impressive. The walls were bare and, the floor had a mediocre rug. The only thing of note was a bookshelf looming in the corner, with only a few books inside.
Alex set his bag on the coffee table and collapsed on the sofa. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he leaned back. Another meaningless day.
An overwhelming sense of exhaustion threatened to lull him into sleep, but acute pangs of hunger kept him from dozing off. Despite that, Alex didn't move from his seated position.
I need to freshen up and change into some informal wear, he thought lethargically.
He took a deep breath and released it, then stood up abruptly. He bent down to pick up his bag and walked into his room. Stripping himself of his clothes, Alex stepped into the bathroom in his underwear. Soon enough, he stood under the shower naked, feeling the cold water run down his body in rivulets.
The cold water brought freshness to his mind, unwinding the threads of fatigue and exhaustion. Showers like these allowed for an uninterrupted flow of thoughts—thoughts about his life and its meaninglessness.
Alex stepped out of the shower and used a towel to dry his body. He then changed into a pair of dark green trousers and a loose blue T-shirt. His black hair was wet and messy, covering the top of his head like an unkempt bird’s nest.
Dinner was cold—yesterday’s leftover pizza. Halfway through, he stopped eating and emptied the platter into the bin. After dropping the dishes into the sink, Alex flopped back onto the sofa.
He sighed, running his palms along his face. What am I even doing?
He knew the answer to that—wasting his life away. And yet, he had always been doubtful of that notion. After all, Alex didn’t desire to be anything or anywhere; he simply longed for something—something that remained a puzzle even to his own senses.
After taking a shower, sleep had all but vanished from his eyes. As Alex looked between his smartphone and the controller tucked into a corner of the sofa, he sighed, shook his head, and stood up. He walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out a couple of beers.
In the silence of his dimly lit apartment, Alex took one gulp after another, staring thoughtlessly at the LCD screen mounted on the wall. As his body relaxed under the newfound warmth, his vision grew bleary, and his mind turned dizzy. The world slipped in and out of focus until, finally, sleep graced his addled brain.
He collapsed onto the sofa, not knowing this would be his last time in his apartment—or in this world, for that matter.
Alex woke up to the feeling of coldness, seeping through his thin garments. He shivered, his eyes fluttering open as he looked up at the slate gray ceiling. He blinked, using his right hand to rub the sleep off his eyes.
The surroundings were dimmer than he remembered them to be, the air smelled fresh—too fresh, with an artificial quality that reminded him of hospitals. He groaned, trying to sit up. His body ached in odd places, the cold working to drive off the last vestiges of sleep from his head.
As his vision came into focus, Alex realized that he wasn't in his apartment anymore. Though he only vaguely recalled falling asleep, he knew it was on his sofa and not on the floor. Certainly not on the floor of what looked like a decrepit old bar.
"Where am I...?" He muttered in confusion, blinking rapidly. Deciding that laying on the floor wouldn't answer his question, he pushed himself up on his feet and examined his surroundings.
It was a bar. But one he had never seen before. The floor was muted gray in color—same as the ceiling—and walls were painted white. A bar counter sat on one side and seemed to be made of planks that curved inward. Three makeshift stools were placed adjacent to the counter and their rickety legs made Alex feel anxious.
He shook his head and glanced behind the counter, finding the shelves broken and empty. Alex swept his gaze across the rest of the room, noting the window and a steel door. The window was dark, with nothing but pitch black void to welcome his sight. There was no latch and the glass appeared sturdy, despite the apparent dilapidated state of the bar.
He shuffled toward the door, noting how polished the metal was. Similar to the window, the door lacked a knob or a handle.
"What kind of weird place is this?" Alex couldn't help but wonder aloud. "Is this a prank? Or was I kidnapped?"
For a brief moment, panic tried to take hold of him, but Alex squashed the feeling before it could fester. I have to think this through logically, he reasoned.
He walked toward the window, peering through the frosted glass but finding nothing but suffocating darkness. Alex took a step back, a pit forming in his stomach. He desperately looked around, trying to find anything that would answer his plight, but alas, he had no such luck.
Suddenly, his sight landed on the bar counter—the cracked wood lacked even the smallest speck of dust. But that wasn't what had attracted his attention. Something else had.
Alex scuttled closer to the counter, finding a white card with golden highlights sitting on its surface. He gingerly extended his hand forward, touching it and feeling its cold texture. He picked it up between his thumb and index finger and turned it over—the back displayed a convergence of golden symbols, intricate and sophisticated yet unnecessarily complicated.
As he picked up the card in his hand, Alex's sight shifted to the black object that had been hidden beneath it. He inspected it closely, finding it to be a deck of cards. The cards were black with golden highlights similar to the white card, though decidedly different in make. Turning one over, Alex found it to be the Queen of Diamonds.
A deck of cards? A premium one, sure, but a deck of cards nonetheless. What exactly was that supposed to mean? Alex couldn't understand.
He shifted his gaze back to the white card and almost jumped out of his skin. The card had changed—or rather, its surface had. Before, it had been blank—a shiny white surface with golden markings on the side. But now—now it had words written in golden color.
"Welcome, Proprietor, to the Crossroads."
Comments
Immortal Phoenix
Somewhat. Once the volume one of MGM is complete, I will release a afterword where I will be sure to put up the whole story of how this fiction came to be (so foreword for this one).
Julian Lachner
Nice time skip pic, not stricktly necesarry for patreon nice non the less. First CH depri as ****. Dont really know where this is going, i guess like a portal fantasy?
