Janus. Often portrayed as a humanoid being with two faces: facing backwards and forwards at the same time; representing the future and the past. What about the present? I don't know. Why don't you ask the Romans that question? Oh right, none of them are alive.

Janus, the god of beginnings and transitions. At least that's what you get when you search it on the web. Was it a uncoincidental that I was not named that or was it a coincidence that I was? That, I did not know; after all, in some alternate time line, I could be called some stupid name like Lancelot or perhaps Daniel. So yeah—Janus. Naming me after a god. Which drunkard decided that? Oh yes, my father. Not that I really cared since at some point in time, I convinced myself that a name was just a label. What wasn't a label, was me. An Asian person with blonde hair. That sounds impossible doesn't it? Well, here I am, physical proof of the thing. Blonde hair is a recessive trait you say? Well I'm a mutated freak buddy.

Just kidding, the blonde got out at some point and turned brown, so I really have brown hair... Or that's what I thought.

Janus. That was the name that instinctively came to me when I thought of myself. But was I really who I think I was? Looking in the bathroom mirror, I started to keep questioning myself. What was happening, what was what, what was I, what is the what in what? You know—all the normal questions an absolutely normal person would ask.

I took another glance at myself in the mirror and stroked my face.

'Holy f*ck.'

'...'

I couldn't believe what I saw.

I looked the same as usual. It was like I had expected something to change, but I still had on the same stoic facial expression that existed ever since my middle school career. After spending some time—well, what I perceived as time—I could remember.

Yesterday was just any ordinary Friday. I had finished my classes and instead of studying the material like all the other tryhard college nerds, I just... Let's say I went partying...

I mean, it was the "last day" of my freshmen year after all. I'd usually turn down the offer from my roommates who were surprisingly chill people compared to the college stories I've heard; but since it was technically the summer, I didn't see any harm in drinking despite being a minor. And in all honesty, it wasn't too bad. The partying part I mean—it wasn't like I've never had an alcoholic beverage before, my first experience was in high school. I rarely ever partied since in a literal sense, I was a loner who didn't have friends but had a f*ck ton of connections and acquaintances. Everyone knew me and I knew everyone thus no one would try to f*ck with me so I never had to antagonize anyone either.

If you looked at me, the first thought would be I'm some sort of heavyweight ufc fighter; and the second more uncommon thought was a fat but relatively skinny sumo wrestler. I say sumo wrestler but that's just an exaggeration. I'm very much like everyone else except for the fact that I had a bulky build. And to another point, I didn't really have time to party since I was majoring in 3 subjects as well as a part time job. Though I hardly studied, I would often use my free time to read books even if they had no relevance to anything. Sounds impossible doesn't it? But when considering the fact that a majority of the time, students were free to do as they pleased until the chopping board came(exams), it really wasn't too impossible to triple major. I'm not one to brag, but when it comes to memory, I can say with confidence that it is near a photographic level if I focus hard enough. It was this specific talent of mine combined with a couple all-nighters which got me straight A's throughout all subjects.

Enough about my depressing lifestyle. Now onto the really shocking thing. If I wasn't mistaken, after the party, I read some book about metallurgy before deciding that I was too hungry to sleep. It was already way past midnight. Not able to sleep, I believe I headed outside, still slightly drunk but sober enough to navigate myself to the nearest convenience store to get some instant ramen. And if I really wasn't making this up...

'I think I was run over by a truck.'

I couldn't wrap my head around what exactly happened since my memory was foggy for some inexplicable reason. It could have been the result of a hangover, but I knew well enough that this wasn't any hangover.

But how could I have been run over by a truck and still be fine? I honestly had no clue. But just because I had no clue didn't mean I would doubt my own memory. I was at least 99% certain that I really had an encounter with a wild truck.

Anyway, a more concerning thought to me right now, was "why, who, what, where, and when." In this context, I didn't know the "why" nor the "who." But a bigger question was if there even was a "who," since this situation I was in could have been caused by some universal system of law or some abstract force.

The "what," would be the fact that I somehow escaped injury; or most possibly death. The "where" was wherever the heck this place was. I've looked out the windows of the house but all I was met with, was a blinding bright light. The same went for the doors. I was actually able to walk outside, but the only thing I could see was bright light everywhere. It would be more accurate to say that I was stuck in some endless white void, box, or space. Eventually, I knew I was going to go blind if I kept my eyes opened, so my body naturally blinked. And in that split millisecond, I was transported back into the house, almost as if I had never left in the first place. I tried it again, this time only blinking one eye at a time; but the further I got from the house, the brighter the lights got which inevitably forced me to shut my eyes.

The "when." Now this was what really got me thinking. Like how this place was never cold nor warm, it also didn't seem to have "time." Time may be relative, but there was no way for me to measure it. Maybe I was in actuality, seeing in slow motion like how the Flash perceived time. Or perhaps I was seeing everything in a fast motion, as if I were a god. Dropping objects like the notebooks on my desk showed that gravity should exist here as well. But what if this wasn't gravity and was some other universal force. Another observation was how the everyday appliances worked. There was water and the plumbing system(bathroom) worked. The kitchen knives were as sharp as ever and could cut paper easily. And the phone...

All my apps had disappeared.

There was no service.

And there were no contacts.

No internet.

Nothing.

Not even a camera.

How did the first alarm trigger to wake me up if time was nonexistent according to the phone?

There simply weren't any answers.

The television didn't work either.

Food?

There was no food either. The place was completely vacant as if the house had been abandoned long ago. Yet, I wasn't hungry. Or should I say, I was no longer capable of starving. I was also unable to sleep. Maybe it was insomnia; but this wasn't insomnia. I was never tired. But I wasn't exactly on a sugar rush either.

How was the house being supplied with energy? That was another unanswered question.

How long had it been since I was awake? One second? One minute? Or a millennia?

Being runover by a truck should guarantee some sort of isekai situation right? So why the heck am I here? In this...

Hell

I tried reading the books from the bookshelf in my room. I thought I was familiar with the books, but they were no longer the books I once knew... They were all hard covered. There were only black and white books. There were no titles. They couldn't be destroyed.

But most importantly, I couldn't read them. They were all written in a completely unfamiliar language. It wasn't French, Japanese, Arabic, or any of those. It wasn't even remotely close. The glyphs and typography used were in a way: extraterrestrial. This isn't some human language. I wasn't a language expert, but I could tell at least that much.