Màu nền Màu tối Mặc định Xám nhạt Xanh nhạt Xanh đậm Vàng nhạt Màu sepia Vàng đậm Vàng ố

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I'm Noah — yep, female, 22 years old, I am an elementary school teacher... and a wibu. On a beautiful day, I was on my way to school when out of nowhere the sky decided to go full "drama mode" and dumped a huge rainstorm on me. Because the road was slippery, it didn't take long before I took a spectacular tumble, I hit the ground hard, and blacked out.

When I woke up, my bike was gone. The scratches from the fall? Totally vanished. I blinked a few times, confused, then I ran toward school to make it on time.

Everything seemed normal. I taught my adorable little students, finished at 10:30 a.m. and went home. Still no clue where my bike went. Now the weather had cleared, not a drop of rain in sight. I was just chilling at home gaming on my PC then—ZAP!—thunder rolled like a boss fight intro. I peeked out the window to check for rain, but nope. Not a single dark cloud anywhere. Shrugged and went back to gaming.

Then, a massive CRASH! shook my backyard. It sounded like something huge fell out of the sky—louder than your average coconut dropping.

I rushed outside and there he was: a man fell into my garden, covered in blood. The ground had caved in where he'd landed, mud splashed everywhere. Middle-aged face, strong muscular build, long silver hair, dressed like some ancient Eastern sage with a straw hat. I swear I'd seen this guy somewhere before.

I knelt to check if he was still breathing before pulling him into my house.
"Jeez, what's this guy made of, bricks?! He is too heavy!" I grumbled as I dragged him in.

Blood smeared across my floor, making him look absolutely, positively dead. I laid him on my bed and started wiping off the gory mess. And before anyone judges me: no, I wasn't flustered about stripping off a stranger's shirt. When you're a twenty-something who's been single through more than twenty Lunar New Years, touching a real, live man is basically a heavenly experience. Plus, you know, life-saving and all that.

I had no idea how he was still alive. His skin was ripped in several places but he was breathing. And, oh boy, under that shredded robe he had abs sculpted like they'd been patched straight from a fighting game. I had to wipe drool from my own mouth and wiped the blood off him.

"Guess I'll have to cancel my gaming session with Rikamo," I muttered.

I cleaned his wounds, poured on disinfectant, then gave him some of my own clothes (no way dare to touch his underwear). Lucky for me my home clothes are unisex—he even looked better in them than I do.

Worried he might be starving, I went to the kitchen to make him a nice pork soup. By the time I came back with the bowl, he was awake but weak, looking around like he'd just respawned with no memory. His eyes caught me off guard—literally glowing with a soft blue light, like polished gemstones. That face was so familiar...

"Where am I? Did you save me?" he asked in perfect English, which totally didn't match his old-school Eastern outfit.

"You're at my place. I'm Noah. What's your name? Wow, your English is so good! Are you mixed or something?" I blurted out, forgetting to chill.

He clutched his head in pain, voice trembling. "I... I don't remember... Who am I?"

Up close, he looked about thirty but his hair was snow-white. I couldn't help but ask, "Did you dye it? Why go gray so young?"

He just stared at me, shook his head.

I handed him the soup. He bowed slightly before taking it, then poked at it with a finger, tasted the broth, and downed it like he hadn't eaten for days. He sipped the soup like an old man savoring tea.

Meanwhile, I scrolled through my phone. When I went to send a meme, I saw my saved picture of Raiden from Mortal Kombat 11. My eyes flicked up at the guy. Back at the picture. Up again. Back again. Wait... no way, no f*cking way.

"You are... you're Raiden, aren't you?"

He hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I... think so. I remember my name now. Thank you, lady."

My face went red. If this really was the Raiden, what the heck dimension had I stumbled into? I'd been his fangirl since college, calling him my husband in front of my roommates.

I reached my arms out for a hug but chickened out halfway. He gave me a puzzled look, which only made me blush harder. If the lore was true, this man was three billion years old. Oh my God. I was basically crushing on a three-billion-year-old grandpa.

But it seemed like Raiden had lost his memory in that near-death crash. This was my chance to, uh, adopt him as my husband for real. I googled "how to take care of an amnesiac" and I got to work.

Though the Thunder God was awake, his body and spirit still felt weak. Without hesitation, I helped him lie back down and re-bandaged his wounds.

And that's how my journey of taking care of my self-proclaimed three-billion-year-old husband from a fantasy world began. Sometimes I wonder: am I the one who crossed into another universe, or did he? Is this really my Earth... or another?