Aren's consciousness rose slowly from the depths of a dark void.
Before he even opened his eyes, a scent hit his nose.
Metallic.
Sharp.
Intense enough to make the inside of his veins ache.
The smell of blood.
When his eyelids trembled open, the sight before him resembled no game, no story, no nightmare on Earth.
Rivers of blood stretched around him, moving with a thick, dark-red flow, brushing against the shore with faint waves. And in the sky, a colossal red moon hung alone — as if it had swallowed all the darkness in the world.
Aren's breath caught.
Where the moonlight touched the darkness, the black mountain range rising on the horizon seemed less like silhouettes and more like gigantic living shadows that shifted subtly. From between those mountains came a low hum.
Then the clang of metal.
And finally, a muffled, deep roar — not something a human could produce.
Aren instinctively stepped back.
"Oh great… a metallic smell. So I either fell into a mechanic's shop or… someplace much worse."
Before the thought even finished forming, he felt himself drawn toward the direction of the sounds.
Was it curiosity? Fear? Survival instinct? He couldn't tell.
The moonlight draped the landscape in a red curtain as he carefully approached the opening between the mountains.
And then, the world's entire noise slammed into his ears at once.
Before him, two colossal creatures — as if escaped from the gates of hell — were locked in battle.
One was a black titan adorned with horns; every step it took cracked the ground, melting the rocks beneath its feet. The other was a skeletal giant, white with gray veins pulsing through it — its hands elongated into blade-like shapes.
With every clash, the sky quivered, and even the red moon seemed to shine with more force.
Aren's knees weakened.
This couldn't be a game.
This couldn't be a cinematic.
This… was real.
He stepped back again, and the black titan's head turned slightly.
At first Aren thought it was coincidence.
Then he realized the titan's eyes were focused directly on him.
"…Alright big guy, easy there. You really don't want me peeing myself right now!"
Instinct roared in his head: Run.
Aren spun around and bolted.
When he dared glance back, the red glow in the titan's eyes expanded like it was filling the world. That wasn't a look given to a person — but to prey.
The ground shook.
Aren's legs felt ready to collapse.
He had to run.
So he ran.
His feet slipped on the mountain slope, burning raw with each scrape. Every breath felt like hot metal searing his lungs. Behind him, the titan's footsteps boomed like thunder, splitting the earth further with every stride.
Aren stumbled once.
His knee scraped against jagged stone.
He swung his arms for balance as the titan's shadow swallowed him from behind.
A sudden warmth brushed his shoulder — the titan's breath.
And he understood: he had one second before being caught.
He threw himself forward with everything he had.
But the ground…
Ended.
The terrain cut off in a sharp cliff.
Ahead lay an endless abyss of darkness.
Aren tried to stop —
His feet slipped.
Pebbles tumbled down the cliffside.
He completely lost his balance just as the titan unleashed a monstrous roar. It was so powerful Aren's ears rang, his vision spun, and the world tilted.
Fear, adrenaline, and shock collided in his mind.
One second he was running for his life — the next, time fractured into slow motion.
Aren fell into the void.
He flung out his hands, trying to catch onto anything —
There was nothing.
The cliff face slid away above him.
The red moon swelled in his vision, rotating as though watching his descent.
Wind screamed past his ears like a living creature.
His heart pounded as if it was trying to break free.
He glimpsed the titan's silhouette one last time — standing at the cliff, staring down at him. As Aren fell further, the titan faded into darkness alongside the moon.
The fall lasted too long.
Far too long.
As if the dark itself was stretching the descent on purpose.
As the darkness swallowed him, the deep hum around him faded…
Replaced by another sound:
A steady beeping — like a heartbeat.
When Aren opened his eyes, sterile white filled his vision.
No darkness here.
No war.
Just cold fluorescent light… and Aunt Mira lying in a hospital bed.
Her frail body almost disappeared under the white sheets.
Her hair was messy, her lips dry.
An oxygen tube rested near her nose, and a thin IV line ran into her arm.
Aren sat on the plastic chair next to the bed, his hands clenched tightly on his knees.
A nurse left the room, giving Aren a quick look — the kind that said "it's serious" — before closing the door.
Aren swallowed.
It took him several seconds to gather the courage to speak.
"A-aunt… I'm here."
Mira opened her eyes; even waking was exhausting for her.
"Aren…"
Her voice was softer than a whisper.
But she tried to smile — like she always did.
"I must be scaring you… aren't I?"
Aren shook his head quickly.
"No! No, you're not. I just… want you to get better."
Mira lifted her hand.
It trembled, weak — but it was the hand of a completely normal human.
When Aren held it, he felt only the warmth trapped between the cold of the hospital room.
Mira spoke slowly, steadying her breath:
"You're… strong, Aren. I know that. Everything will be alright."
Aren's eyes blurred with tears.
Hearing his own voice shake hurt him.
"I'll… find the money. No matter what I have to do. I promise."
Mira looked at him — strained, but full of affection.
"Just take care of yourself. The rest will come."
Aren forced a grin.
"Nothing bad can happen to someone this handsome."
They sat like that for a while, hand in hand.
Only the machine's rhythmic beeping filled the room.
Right then, Aren made the heaviest decision of his life:
He would enter Nexus — and earn money, no matter the cost.
As that thought settled in his mind, the scene slowly darkened…
And returned to that night in the living room.
The moment before he spoke the fateful binding phrase, determination — and fear — was clearer on his face than ever.
Then…
Darkness swallowed everything.
Aren's consciousness snapped back with a pounding headache, like someone was banging pots inside his skull. He groaned.
"Wonderful," he sighed. "At this point, I'm starting to think the universe is mocking me."
When his eyes opened, the first thing he noticed was… red.
Everywhere.
And the smell.
He wrinkled his nose.
"Please let this be a mechanic's shop this time."
He looked down…
At his hands.
Bright red.
"Okay. Definitely 'someplace worse'."
He pressed a hand against the ground beneath him and felt strange rough textures. When he stood, he realized the "mud" he thought he was lying on… was clotted blood.
He froze for a moment, throat tightening.
Then muttered to himself:
"Aren… maybe you should faint again. Honestly, it might help."
But he didn't faint.
He lifted his head… and saw the lake.
A still, black-red lake.
Its surface trembled faintly.
Mist drifted over it.
"Lovely. Blood lake tourism on my first day. Wonder who stamped my ticket?"
Behind the lake, perched on a hill, stood a massive silhouette.
A gothic castle, carved from shadow, with tall, pointed towers.
Aren pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Okay… survival rule number one: If you see a giant spooky castle — run the other way.
Except… which way is the other way?"
He turned around.
Darkness.
Mist.
No paths.
"Perfect. No GPS, no map… just my brain. And my brain is very close to quitting."
He took a deep breath.
"Alright, Aren. No road? Fine. You go to the castle. What's the worst that could happen?"
He froze.
Eyes widening slightly.
And whispered to himself:
"I wasn't supposed to say that… was I?"