Chapter 1: The Girl Who Fell Out of Her Own Century

Yoon Ha-eun had a special talent.

Not Singing.

Not studying.

Not sports.

No.

She was professionally talented at falling over nothing.

Which was exactly how she ended up tumbling down a muddy slope behind the old walking trail, arms flailing, dignity long gone.

"WHY is the group SLIPPERY when it hasn't even rained?!" she yelled at nature, as if nature owned her an explanation.

Her sneaker skidded. Her bag swung forward. Her foot missed the path completely.

And then_

There was no ground.

Only air.

And a very surprised, very undignified scream.

"AAAAAA _"

SPLASH.

The lake swallowed her whole.

The water was freezing, stealing the air from her lungs. Ha-eun kicked wildly, arms thrashing in pure panic. Her thoughts raced faster than her heartbeat.

I can't swim properly _ why didn't I listen in P.E. _ THIS IS SUCH A STUPID WAY TO DIE _

But just as darkness crept into her vision.

The water changed.

It grew warm. Not just warm _ glowing. Soft blue light curled around her like ribbons, wrapping around her waist, her ankles, her hair floating around her face like she was drifting in the sky instead of sinking in a lake.

She stopped struggling.

Because she wasn't falling down anymore.

she was falling... sideways.

The lake dissolved into light. The cold disappeared. The pressure in her ears vanished.

And then_

THUD.

Ha-eun crashed face-first onto something very solid.

"...ow".

She lay there for a moment, cheek pressed against smooth stone, wondering if this was what the afterlife felt like.

It smelled weirdly like incense.

She groaned and rolled onto her back.

Above her was the night sky.

Okay, normal.

But then she sat up.

And nothing else was normal.

Tall red pillars surrounded her. Lanterns hung in perfect rows, glowing gold. The buildings had curved tiled roofs, painted in colors so rich they didn't look real. Silk banners fluttered gently in the night breeze.

And standing in a wide circle around her...

Were dozens of people in hanbok.

Real hanbok.

Not costume-hanbok. Not rental-hanbok.

Serious, historical-drama, museum-textbook hanbok.

They stared at her like she had just crawled out of the moon.

Ha-eun looked down at herself.

Hoodie.

School skirt.

Wet sneakers.

She looked like a lost extra from a completely different tv show.

One man in official robes dropped the scroll he was holding.