I was still in shock at what had just happened. My mind was filled with questions. Everything was too fast, too strange. And then suddenly, a voice spoke behind me:
"Oh, you're back already?"
I turned around. A tall young man with a friendly demeanor was walking toward us. As soon as he saw me, he laughed loudly, slung his arm over the shoulder of the one who had saved me, and joked:
"Damn, my man's on fire today!"
The one who saved me didn't respond to the joke. Instead, he kicked the other guy hard on the butt.
"How many times have I told you? Huh? You can't afford to be careless!"
The tall guy looked confused, as if he didn't understand what just happened. He scratched his head and gave an awkward smile.
"I was doing fine…"
But the other man didn't smile. He stepped toward the door, his voice cold:
"Thirteen out of fifteen barriers have been broken, and you didn't even notice."
The tall man suddenly looked like a guilty child, bowing repeatedly in apology.
At that moment, I finally spoke up, my voice trembling:
"Sorry… but what is happening? Where… where am I?"
Before they could answer, a loud sound erupted from the sky. The three of us rushed outside. In the distance, the pitch-black sky began to crack — like shattered glass breaking into hundreds of fragments. A strange, brilliant light poured out from the cracks — mesmerizing, yet carrying a chilling sense of death.
I squinted to look more closely, and then… my heart skipped a beat.
Something massive was flying through the space beyond those cracks. Wherever it flew, the light spread further, and from those glowing trails… people began falling.
They were being pulled from somewhere else — just like I had been.
The tall young man looked up at the sky and quietly said:
"It's here again… the 97th wave."
I turned to the two of them. Their expressions had changed completely. The one who had been joking moments ago now looked deadly serious, the tension thick in the air.
The man who saved me spoke in a grim voice:
"It seems this time… it came earlier than expected. And the number of people being pulled in… it's five times more than the last wave."
My heart pounded wildly. Five times? The 97th wave? Earlier than expected?
Unable to comprehend the brutal reality, I screamed in desperation. It was too much.
"What the hell is going on?! Why is this happening?! Those things in the sky… what are they?! Where the hell am I?! And those monsters… what are they?!"
My voice cracked, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks. My throat closed up. My heart thrashed inside my chest. Then I whispered a sentence — simple in words, but nearly impossible in that moment:
"I just… want to go home."
I broke down. The tears wouldn't stop, blending with my shallow, trembling breaths. Helplessness, fear, and despair wrapped around me like a nightmare with no exit.
"I want to go home…" I sobbed, as if saying it might make everything disappear, as if I were still dreaming.
The man who saved me stood silently, his eyes still on the breaking sky. After a pause, he said, his voice low and cold:
"None of us were chosen. And none of us were asked whether we wanted to be here."
The tall guy sat down beside me. His mischievous gaze had vanished, replaced with something distant.
"At first… I was like you. Screaming, crying, begging, even hurting myself just to wake up. But one day, I realized: this is real. And what's waiting ahead… is worse than anything you can imagine."
I looked up. My heart felt like it was about to burst.
"What do you mean…? There's something worse than those monsters?"
The one who saved me looked straight into my eyes.
"Yes. And if you don't get stronger, you'll die before you ever find out what it is."
I swallowed back my tears. That sentence — "If you don't get stronger, you'll die before you ever find out what it is" — wasn't a threat. It was the cold truth of this world. I looked into his eyes. There was no deceit, no pity. Only the hardened reality of someone who had seen too much.
"What… do I have to do?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
He turned to the tall man and gave a nod. The tall one stood up, brushed dust off his shirt, and said:
"First, you need to know where you are. This place is called the Outer Fringe — the edge of the Second World. The closer to the center you get, the more dangerous things become. And the bad news is… every new wave lands closer to the center."
I felt dizzy.
"Wave? Second World?" I repeated like a broken machine.
"Yes," the man who saved me continued. "Some entity — we call it the Second World — is eating our world. And every time it takes a bite, some of us are pulled into it. We call it a 'falling wave.' You're part of the 97th."
"So… no one can stop it?" I asked, nearly begging.
"No. No one is strong enough to stop that entity," the tall guy said, his eyes somber.
"I'm weak…" I confessed, lowering my head. "I don't know how to fight. I don't understand anything…"
The man who saved me stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"We can't stop it… at least not yet," he said, voice deepening.
"The only thing we can do is understand its true nature."
I looked up. His gaze gave me something — not hope, but resolve.
"Then… I'll live," I whispered, like a tiny vow in the dark.
He nodded:
"We'll live."