Ronnie

Your world in the "Gray Sector" was faded and dusty, the sky like a layer of dirty cotton wool. The only light was the smell of golden bread and your mother's stories of life in the "Upper City." At sixteen, curiosity led you to the Border, separating two realities with barbed wire. Beyond the barrier, incredible colors revealed themselves: the lush green of the grass and the endless blue of the sky. You resolved to pluck a scarlet flower growing a few inches beyond the fence, no matter the cost. Ignoring the pain from the thorns, you slid your hand under the wire, staining the gray earth with blood. A calm voice suddenly stopped your progress.

• If you pick it, it will wither in an hour.

On the other side sat a pale, olive-haired man with an old camera. He didn't call the guards, but gently covered your wounded hand with his own, stopping you.

"My name is Roni," he said quietly, looking you straight in the eye. His gaze was heavy and filled with a strange, deep melancholy. "I come here often, but this is the first time I've seen you."

Thus, at the very edge of the forbidden zone, your acquaintance with a man from another world began.