And that insanity actually happened.

  That thought still hung in my head as I witnessed the most ridiculous scene of the day.

  Dad actually swept Mom into his arms.

  So, here we are, walking through the crowded Sector 3 transit station: me perched on his left shoulder like a parrot, while Mom is being carried princess-style in his right arm.

  People at the station stopped walking. Some whispered.

  "Is that... his wife?"

  "Seriously carrying her like that?"

  I immediately pressed the dolphin plushie against my face. Please. Just pretend I'm the wind.

  Though I knew that was impossible.

  "Dad, put Mom down..." I whispered, a thread of panic slipping into my voice.

  "Huh?" Dad turned, smiling wide. He kept walking, with absolutely no intention of stopping. "Papa's strong, you know," he said proudly. "Mama's light."

  "I heard that," Mom mumbled from within his arms.

  "That's a compliment," Dad answered casually.

  Several people around us whispered again.

  "Tch... I suddenly want to go home and see my wife."

  "Poor guy... I'm still single."

  I pressed the dolphin plushie harder against my face.

  I should be able to handle my reaction to other people's comments. That's the rule, right? The problem is, my emotional control right now is as fragile as tissue paper.

  "Dad..." my voice came out shaky. "Everyone's looking..."

  Dad paused for a moment, then turned toward me. "Hm?"

  "This... is embarrassing."

  Dad blinked, then laughed.

  "Oh," he said. "Papa forgot."

  Forgot?!

  Before I could protest, Dad actually straightened his back, walking even more gallantly than before.

  "In that case," he said, eyes fixed ahead, "Papa should look even more dashing, right?"

  Oh god... I want to disappear.

  It wasn't until the train doors hissed shut that he finally set Mom down, laughing the whole time.

  "Papa really is the best!" Mom exclaimed, planting a kiss on Dad's cheek, which made me want to throw up on the spot.

  This is truly unbearable.

  I took a deep breath to cool my burning face before turning my attention to my surroundings.

  Unlike the bus, which had felt somewhat "humane," this train was a piece of technological artistry. Its shape was sleek, almost without sharp corners, and it floated a few centimeters above its magnetic rails. The air inside carried a faint scent of lavender, and something about it made my shoulders drop.

  I climbed down from Dad's shoulders and sank into the seat, which felt like a cloud.

  "We won't be here long, Sera. Just a few minutes," Mom said while fastening a small seatbelt around my waist.

  I nodded.

  My gaze landed on something in front of the seat. A thin screen, perfectly clear, that lit up on its own the moment the train began to move.

  It displayed news, weather, and short entertainment clips. I couldn't look away. The images shifted with ease, the colors vivid, the sound coming through speakers I couldn't even see.

  Wait...

  My heart stuttered for a moment. Not because the train was fast, because a realization slammed into me all at once.

  That thing... that's a TV, right?

  I stared at the screen with my mouth hanging open wide enough for flies to enter.

  I started running through the layout of our house in my head. Living room, kitchen, my parents' room, my playroom...

  Oh god.

  How is it possible I'm only realizing this now?

  For four years, my only sources of information were picture books and the bits of conversation I caught at breakfast. No wonder my knowledge of the outside world was so thin.

  For four years...

  Four whole years!

  I lived in Mom and Dad's house, playing happily, rolling around like an idiot, staring at walls... without catching one very crucial detail.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  We don't have a TV at home.

  Good grief... am I stupid or what?!

  I'm someone who reincarnated!

  How could I not notice I'd been living in the 'dark ages,' without digital entertainment, for four entire years?

  I was too busy playing the part of a toddler until my brain cells actually shrank to the size of marbles.

  Where did all those instincts go? The ones that used to crave streaming and morning news? This whole time I thought my life felt complete just from eating, sleeping, and being loved.

  Turns out, Mom and Dad's affection really did "drug" my brain, until I forgot the basic needs of a modern human. I feel like a great detective who just realized he forgot to put on pants before his case presentation.

  Truly pathetic.

  "Sera? Why's your face scrunched up like that? Want to watch cartoons?" Dad asked, catching me staring at the screen with an expression caught somewhere between resentment and longing.

  I kept my eyes fixed on the screen without blinking.

  Mom leaned in. "What's wrong, Sera?"

  I snapped out of it and turned quickly. "Dad... W-Why is there no talking box like this at home?"

  Mom and Dad exchanged a glance, then both laughed. Dad looked at the screen in front of my seat, then back at me.

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah...?" I repeated, quieter.

  Mom smiled thinly. "You like it?"

  "We'll talk about it when we get home, okay?" Dad answered, keeping his tone light.

  Talk about it?

  No!

  I want that TV now.

  I scrunched up my face. "Why later?"

  Dad shrugged. "Because if it's now, Papa has to explain at length."

  I tilted my head. "Is it a secret?"

  Mom chuckled. "A little bit."

  A little bit?

  I leaned back in my seat, my lips curling into a pout without my permission. And somehow, that just made my chest feel even hotter.

  I want to know what's actually happening in the outside world. I want to see cartoons, want to understand the news, want to know what adults are always talking about in that half-serious tone of theirs.

  I want…

  Argh!

  The embarrassment of only figuring this out after four years is way bigger than any curiosity I could feel.

  I wanted to say something else, but silence suddenly swallowed the carriage whole.

  Only the low hum of the train remained.

  "We're entering the mountain tunnel," Mom whispered, her hand drifting to my hair.

  "Mountain?" I mumbled.

  My gaze shifted to the window. Outside was only pitch darkness, broken at uneven intervals by emergency lights blurring past.

  It shouldn't take long, right?

  But I was wrong.

  The darkness stretched on, long enough for my embarrassment about the TV to fade and a heaviness to creep into my eyelids. Just as my eyes were about to fall shut...

  Light.

  Far ahead, at the end of the tunnel exit still no bigger than a needle's eye, something towered among the shadows of trees. A faint glow caught its outline.

  Is that... a tower? But its shape is too sharp. I tried to focus.

  Whoooosh!

  The train shot out from the belly of the mountain at full speed. Blinding sunlight flooded the window, and I reflexively threw my arm up to shield my eyes.

  I blinked several times, letting my vision settle.

  When the world outside finally came into focus, my eyes went wide.

  Everything had changed.

  If Sector 3 had felt modern: steel beams, tall glass buildings, magnetic rails...

  All of that was gone.

  In its place stretched a sky so clear it hurt to look at, and beneath it, an endless expanse of green. A giant forest blanketed the land, filled with trees larger than anything I had ever seen.

  Rivers cut through the valleys, their water catching the light as they flowed toward stone castles sitting proudly on hilltops.

  Trees as big as buildings? How old could they possibly be? A thousand years?

  The train began to slow as it crossed a high stone bridge. From up here, I could see life unfolding below.

  What I saw weren't modern apartments, but wooden houses with dark shingle roofs and tidy stone walls. The roads weren't asphalt, but winding paths of cobblestone laid from river rocks.

  The people down there wore simple robes and rough-spun clothing, like villagers out of a European fantasy. Thin threads of smoke curled up from stone chimneys, and life down there felt... unhurried.

  This is like... a kingdom era. A stark contrast to the Sector 3 I'd just left behind.

  But that wasn't what truly stole my breath.

  As the train curved along the line of steep coastal cliffs, something caught my eye in the distance. Among the waves breaking against white sand, there stood a monument. no, Not a monument.

  A weapon.

  A Giant Sword.

  Its size was absurd. Tall enough to rival a fifty-story building. The sword was driven deep into the shore, tilted slightly toward the sea.

  Its color was pitch black, veined with blood-red streaks that seemed to pulse faintly along the blade. The presence it gave off, heavy and ancient, bled through even the sealed walls of the train carriage.

  It didn't look man-made. It looked like something that had fallen from a god's hand.

  Terrifying.

  That sword was truly terrifying.

  Something about it stirred a dread I couldn't explain.

  And then, just like that, my memory dragged me backward. Back to Dad's lap, back to his voice reading what I'd thought was a cliché fairy tale about heroes and meteors.

  "...But his sword is still there, Sera! The sword he used to defeat the last monster! Someday Papa will take you to see it, promise!"

  Dad's voice from that night echoed clearly in my ears.

  "Hero's Sword..." I mumbled.

  "Cool, right?"

  I turned. Dad was watching that sword with a faraway look in his eyes.

  "Does Sera remember when Papa told you the story about this sword?" he asked, his voice quiet.

  I nodded slowly. Of course I remembered.

  His hand found the top of my head, and this time his touch was lighter than usual. "Papa's sorry. It took this long to bring you here."

  I looked up at him. "Why apologize?"

  Dad was quiet for a moment before he answered.

  "Papa kept saying 'later' and 'later,'" he said, letting out a breath. "Every time I remembered that promise... every time I saw Sera playing alone at home, Papa felt guilty. Because I already knew this place was here. A place you deserved to see."

  I didn't say anything.

  I wanted to. The words were right there. But none of them made it past my lips.

  "This is your belated birthday gift," he continued. "Papa wants you to know one thing."

  "What?"

  His expression grew serious. "Papa isn't someone who breaks promises."

  My eyes widened. I hadn't expected him to say something like that.

  The Dad I knew every day, silly, dramatic, always a little over the top, was gone, just for a moment. In his place sat an ordinary man who simply wanted to be a hero for his daughter.

  Something warm and aching crept into my chest, pushing out the cold dread that giant sword had left behind. My eyes stung, just a little. Probably from staring at that blade for too long.

  "Thank you... Dad," I whispered.

  Dad cleared his throat. "Don't go making Papa look cool like this."

  "..."

  Then he glanced at the seat beside us, and his expression shifted to something between amusement and quiet resignation. "Well, since we're almost there... can you help Papa with one more thing?"

  I followed his gaze.

  Mom was fast asleep. Her head rested against the cushion at a slight tilt, her breathing steady and even.

  She looked completely at peace. Not a trace of disturbance—not even from the appearance of a colossal sword outside the window.

  So Mom's been here before.

  "Can you wake Mama up for Papa?" Dad whispered, giving me a wink and that look, the one that made even the smallest task feel like an important mission.

  I turned to face her fully, studying the calm on her features.

  Hah… incredible.

  While Dad and I had been drowning in an emotional conversation, Mom had been off wandering in dreamland. Either truly asleep, or deliberately pretending, just to give us the space we needed.

  Because yesterday, Mom had said something about Dad wanting to talk to me alone...

  Was this what she meant?

  I reached out with both hands, still feeling faintly stiff, and began to gently pat Mom's arm.

  "Mama... wake up... we're here..."