The night stretched on in silence after Natee left Tawan alone in the grand sitting room. The sudden quiet was almost too much to bear after the whirlwind of confusion and mystery. Tawan sat on the edge of the plush armchair, his hands gripping the fabric of his jeans, his mind racing. What was happening to him? Where was he? And most importantly, who was Natee?
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The soft ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound that filled the room as Tawan let his thoughts drift. He had been so sure, so confident in the life he had back in Bangkok. He had dreams—photography, writing, small goals that kept him moving forward. But this… this was something beyond any dream, any reality he could have imagined. The world he had known seemed so far away now.
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Tawan stood up abruptly, the tension in his shoulders too much to ignore. He needed to move, to do something—anything—to keep his mind from spiraling further into uncertainty. The mansion felt suffocating, its walls closing in on him as he walked aimlessly around the room.
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The grand windows at the far end of the room revealed the moonlit garden, its tranquil beauty completely at odds with the turmoil he felt inside. The cool night air beckoned him, and he crossed the room in quick strides, eager for a breath of fresh air, even if only for a moment.
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As he stepped outside, the garden was as serene as it had appeared from the inside. Neatly trimmed hedges and flowering plants lined the stone path that led further into the grounds. A fountain sat at the center, the sound of water gently cascading adding to the peaceful atmosphere. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over everything, making it feel like a dream—a dream Tawan wasn’t sure he could wake up from.
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He paused near the fountain, staring at the ripples in the water, his mind a storm of questions. The events of the day had happened too quickly for him to process. The time travel. The mansion. Natee.
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Tawan, get it together, he told himself, taking a deep breath. You’re not crazy. This is real. You just need to figure out how to get back. How to fix this.
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But how? How could he go back? Was this permanent? And why had Natee—this strange, powerful man—acted so calm about the entire situation?
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Tawan’s thoughts were interrupted when a voice broke through the quiet.
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“You’re still awake.”
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Tawan spun around, startled. He hadn’t heard anyone approach, but there Natee was, standing just a few feet away, his presence as imposing as ever. The man’s gaze was sharp, calculating, as if he were analyzing Tawan in this moment of vulnerability.
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“I couldn’t sleep,” Tawan said quietly, his voice betraying the uncertainty he still felt. “I… I don’t know what’s going on.”
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Natee raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his dark eyes glimmering in the moonlight. There was something unsettling about the way he watched Tawan, like he was waiting for something, testing him.
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“You’re not the first person to end up here,” Natee said finally, his voice low and smooth, yet carrying an underlying weight. “This mansion has a way of drawing people in. People from different places, different times.”
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Tawan’s stomach tightened. “People from different times? What do you mean?”
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Natee’s lips curled into a faint smirk, as if he enjoyed Tawan’s confusion. “You’ll learn soon enough. The world you think you know is far more complex than you realize. This estate is just the beginning. And so are you, Tawan. This is a place where time doesn’t work the way you think it does. You’re part of something much larger.”
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Tawan blinked, unable to process the words. “What do you want from me?”
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Natee didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence growing even more intense. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, making his features appear even sharper, more unreadable.
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“I want nothing from you,” Natee said after a beat. “I simply want to understand why you’re here. Why you’ve appeared in my world.”
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Tawan swallowed hard. “But… I didn’t mean to be here. I didn’t choose this. I don’t belong here. I just want to go back.”
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Natee’s gaze softened for a split second, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “We don’t always get to choose where we belong. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice carrying a strange gentleness. “You’ll have your answers soon enough. There are people in this world who can help you. And I can promise you one thing: you’ll never be alone here, Tawan.”
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The way Natee said his name sent a shiver down Tawan’s spine. There was a certain weight in it, an intensity that felt like a warning.
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Before Tawan could respond, Natee turned and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. He didn’t look back.
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Tawan stood frozen in place for a moment, the words lingering in the air between them. He wanted to call out, to ask more questions, but a strange feeling told him that asking Natee for answers right now would get him nowhere.
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With a heavy sigh, Tawan returned to the mansion, his mind still reeling.
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As he entered the grand hall, he felt a sense of isolation settling over him, even though he was surrounded by people—servants, staff, and the occasional guest who passed by, all of them looking at him with curiosity and restraint. They didn’t say a word to him, but their glances were enough to remind him that he was a stranger here, an outsider.
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Later that evening, after a quiet dinner served by an overly polite but emotionless servant, Tawan returned to the room he had been assigned. It was elegant, decorated with antique furniture and rich fabrics, but it felt empty—cold, even.
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He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window at the starry sky. Despite everything that had happened, despite the strangeness of it all, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder about Natee. There was something about him—a presence, a quiet power—that made it impossible to look away.
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Tawan lay back on the bed, his eyes drifting to the ceiling as exhaustion washed over him. But sleep didn’t come easily. Every time he closed his eyes, the images of the mansion, the garden, and Natee’s penetrating
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gaze swirled in his mind.
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This was just the beginning.
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