Drifting in a void of endless night, his mind drowns in whispers that slither like blades through his ears.
Familiar voices—words he has once heard from those he loves, and from those he despises—clash violently. Their emotions press down on him: anger, sorrow, longing—a psychic weight that nearly crushes his sanity. In his mind, a panicked whisper echoes.
He strains, trying to retrieve a single coherent thought, but finds only emptiness. 'I can't think... my mind is a vacuum.' He attempts to lift a hand, but his limbs are locked, bound by invisible chains. He gasps for breath, his lungs burn as if he'd been drowning in suffocating water for an eternity. 'My soul is slowly hollowing out, becoming nothing but a cold coffin for something else.'
In that suffocating dreamscape, emotions strike him in waves—sharp and merciless. Then, suddenly, she appears. A woman.
Her figure emerges through the haze, luminous, like a distant, fixed star. She has a notably gentle and compassionate appearance. Her eyes are a soft fuchsia pink, contrasting sharply with their deep, inky-black pupils. This combination gives her look a quiet, yet undeniable dignity. She is utterly unfamiliar, yet her presence feels painfully known, radiating the scent of preserved silk and dried lavender.
'Who is she?'
The moment her image takes form, the storm of voices vanishes. The chaos of emotions dissolves, leaving only silence. But the silence does not last. The vision wavers, like smoke unraveling in the wind, and her beautiful, severe presence fades. The voices fall back into nothingness. The dream violently collapses. And he falls with it.
When consciousness returns, pain surges through his body like fire cracking bone and scorched skin. "Ugh... feels like my entire skeleton just shattered." But in his head, there is nothing. No ache, no thought—just a hollow void, as if his mind itself has been erased. His head throbs with emptiness, thoughts scattered and unreachable.
Above him stretches a sky veiled in ashen clouds, heavy and unmoving, as though the heavens themselves have suffocated.
With trembling arms, he presses his palms against the ground. Sharp stone bites into his skin, and the pain grounds him in the reality of this strange place. Groaning, he pulls himself upright, using his arm like a crutch. His spine aches as he forces himself to kneel, then to stand, steadying against a rough tree branch jutting from the earth.
Only then does he dare look around. Cold mist coils across the barren land, obscuring the horizon. Yet through the fog, two colossal things stand out: ahead, a gigantic, imposing gate, so vast and magnificent, seemingly built for gods, not men. Behind him, a lonely, still lake shimmers quietly in the desolate realm.
He stands, body trembling, mind reeling from the dream, staring at the gate that waits like a silent judge.
Slowly, he walks toward the lake, kneeling as if to wash his face. In the lake's reflection, he catches sight of his own image.
An eighteen-year-old boy named Jun stares back. His thin, pale skin looks dry; his messy hair is tangled as if never combed. He stands about 1.8 meters tall—around five feet eleven. His eyes are dark brown, nearly black, carrying heavy drowsiness that makes him look frail and exhausted. He wears a navy windbreaker and long denim pants—ordinary clothes, yet worn heavily.
The moment Jun sees his reflection, fragments of memory surface: his mother's trembling voice. "Mom... I have to go back to Mom." "She's sick. I have to stay by her side."
Confusion strikes him. "Am I just dreaming?" Muttering to himself, he pulls sharply at his cheek until it stings. "Huh? This isn't a dream?" Panic wells up, his body trembling as if losing all foundation.
Suddenly, a piercing voice echoes in his head, sharp enough to make him clutch both ears. When the sound fades, he hears something faint coming from the direction of the great gate.
Curiosity drives Jun forward. He grabs the withered branch and creeps toward the source. Behind the massive gate comes a low, constant hum, like the slow grinding of ancient, rusted machinery. "A gate that big... looks like something out of history."
On its surface, strange creatures are carved in grotesque relief. Around the frame coils an enormous serpent—an Ouroboros devouring its own tail. To the left of the gate, demons writhe in eternal battle. On the right, gods strike them down with furious might.
The closer Jun steps, the more he feels a force pressing against his chest, as if the gate radiates power.
Then, without warning, the gate splits open.
Beyond it stretches a barren field of twilight. From within that desolate expanse, countless black, claw-like hands surge forth, grasping hungrily for him. "Ahh... Let go of me!... Let..!" Jun struggles, thrashing with all his strength, but no matter how he fights, the hands drag him deeper.
With one final pull, darkness swallows him whole, pulling him through the gate into the unknown. His screams vanish into the darkness.
He is enveloped in the crushing void, the countless appendages piercing his skin one by one. Excruciating pain, like being consumed by fire, ravages his body. He screams, his eyes barely open—just slits of consciousness. Through his blurred vision, he sees a single, enormous, brilliantly glowing crimson eyeball, staring directly down at him. The eye is analyzing, judging. Surrounding that colossal orb, fleshy, twisted tendrils root themselves deep into his every limb.
The torment lasts for what feels like an entire day, a relentless, agonizing ordeal. Then, just as suddenly, it ceases, and he wakes up.
He feels no pain. His body is perfectly normal, whole.
"Damn it... that was a long and awful nightmare, even for a dream." He sighs, wearily surveying his new location.
The moment Jun's eyes snap open, he is greeted by a sight of shadowed decay and the faint, lingering scent of a bold magical presence hanging heavy in the air. He lies sprawled in the center of a small chamber, roughly 20 feet wide.
The floor beneath him is covered in damp, mossy stone slabs, their surface long since corrupted by the relentless march of time. Everywhere, water damage, deep cracks, and scattered debris of shattered rock lie in chaotic disarray.
At the room's epicenter lies a great stone circle, about 10 feet in diameter. The outer rim of the circle is deeply etched with incomprehensible, ancient runes, clearly the remnants of a powerful Occult Circle. Within the inner angles and along the inscriptions, only scattered waxy residue from burned-down wicks remains. The residual stains hint that a cruel sacrifice or a profound, dark ritual has recently concluded here.
The walls surrounding the chamber are constructed of rough-hewn boulders, supported by massive, darkened stone pillars that stand like skeletal sentinels. Upon these walls, ancient statues and the decayed fragments of inscriptions are barely visible. Their forms seem to have been carved by some supernatural force. The entire chamber is saturated with a pervasive atmosphere of cold.
He is inside a dilapidated, aging ruin. Intrigued, Jun examines the ancient wall paintings. The religious iconography depicts strange, insectoid creatures being worshipped.
Jun thinks: 'This looks like a transmigrated world,' 'Just like in those fantasy novels, this world is probably full of unknown dangers.' 'I have to stay vigilant. There could be legendary monsters here.'
A faint, strange footstep sound outside the ruin jolts him. He freezes, desperately searching for a weapon. His foot scuffs against something: a broken sword hilt, rusted and filthy. The bronze hilt is finely crafted.
"Damn my luck sucks... But at least I've found something that vaguely resembles a weapon. I suppose I should be grateful for that much."
Jun frowns, gripping the broken sword and cautiously stepping out of the ruin.
As Jun finally steps out of the dilapidated ruin, a subtle but crushing pressure settles immediately upon his mind. He finds himself standing at the edge of a dense, shadowy forest. Everything is rendered in a muted, oppressive palette, as a thin, unsettling layer of smoke-gray mist hangs motionless between the trunks. The air is heavy, the silence absolute, hinting that this is no ordinary woods.
The auditory illusion begins. Then... voices. Familiar ones.
"Jun... wake up, Jun. How long are you going to sleep?"
"Class is over, man. You overslept again."
"Shall we go to that fried chicken shop we went to the other day, guys?"
"Yeah, that's a great idea! I love the sauce there."
"Jun probably stayed up all night playing games, as usual!"
Jun slowly opens his eyes, recognizing the voices. Then... He freezes. Those names....Ethan, Liam, Marie, Olivia... His heart pounds.
He sees: Ethan (muscular and toned), Liam (slightly overweight), Marie (beautiful, well-proportioned), and Olivia (cute, bespectacled class president and nerd).
Olivia giggles. "You look so pale, Jun. Dreamed something scary?"
Ethan laughs. "Probably one of those fantasy novels again. Poor little dreamer."
In a hurry, Liam urges. "I'm starving, Jun. Let's go now!"
Marie is astonished and counters. "You always want to eat, Liam. Didn't you sneak food during class?"
He listens to their joyful chatter, a faint smile of relief touching his lips and in his mind, he murmurs: 'Phew... thank goodness. It was just a dream. I woke up.'
He stands up from his seat, ready to leave with his friends.
Then... Suddenly;
Ethan: "JUN! My man! Get your mind together! You have to snap out of it!"
Olivia: "Yes, Jun! Remember! You have to come back now, Jun!"
Jun is startled by their strange behavior, and the image of the dilapidated ruin flashes in his mind. "Guys, what are you talking about? I'm up. Aren't we going to the fried chicken shop?"
"JUNNNN!" Ethan roars.
Jun's vision snaps. The cheerful high school scene shatters like glass.
"Oh God! This is just too much! Guess the Goddess of Fate really loves me, huh?" his voice trembles between mockery and despair.
He is back outside the ruin, still holding the broken sword. Standing directly in front of him is a monstrous, terrifying creature.
It towers over him, easily 2.6 meters (8.5 feet) tall, with a gaping, horrifying maw. Its face is vaguely human but its pupils are entirely white and staring at him. Large and sharp spines jut from its spine. It has four long arms, tipped with talons so long they nearly scrape the dirt. The body is human-shaped but horrifyingly emaciated, its bones are visible through the stretched skin.
"Shit... I think I really am DEAD."