Rose was breathing heavily, her body aching as she sat up. Her head throbbed with a sharp, painful pulse. It felt like a headache, a deep, relentless ache that clouded her mind. She tried to make sense of her surroundings, but the darkness was suffocating. She couldn't stand. The weight of the pain kept her anchored to the floor, her vision blurred, her limbs weak.
She sat there for what felt like an eternity, before finally managing to rise to her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her, as if they no longer knew how to carry her. Blindly, she fumbled around the room, reaching out like a lost soul searching for a lifeline. Her fingers brushed against the cold wall, finding the light switch. She flicked it on, but the light that flickered to life was dim and weak, offering little comfort to her aching eyes.
The room was small, cramped, and suffocating. A bare mattress sat in the corner, covered only by a worn-out blanket. A school dress lay haphazardly on the floor, a piece of bread nearby. The space felt too tight, too stifling for any sense of freedom. She scanned the room, feeling a strange sense of disconnect. Then, her eyes caught the mirror.
She stared at the reflection, her heart sinking. A girl with short black hair.Her hair barely reached her neck, her face pale and dotted with freckles. Her eyes, hollow and dark, seemed to hold endless sorrow. Her lips were cracked and worn, as if even her body had given up on her. She looked sickly, a mere shadow of a person who had once lived.
Beside her, a pair of glasses lay. She picked them up, her hands trembling. When she put them on, it became clear—she had been blind all along, unable to see clearly.
"This girl," she muttered under her breath, her voice breaking the silence, "is particularly blind."
Her eyes scanned the room once more, and then she spotted it—a hammer, lying quietly beside her. She grabbed it, her fingers curling tightly around the cold metal. What was outside? She didn't know, but she needed to. She had to know.
With the hammer in her hand, she opened the door. The hallway stretched before her, lined with identical rooms, each as bleak as the last. Twelve, no, perhaps forty doors, all the same. But one led outside.
As she walked toward the exit, a woman behind the receptionist desk spoke, her voice cutting through the stillness. "Seo Mu-rae, aren't you going to pay your rent?"
Rose paused, confusion flickering in her eyes. Seo Mu-rae. Was that her name? Her heart felt hollow, as if the weight of that name held too many answers she couldn't yet grasp.
She looked at the woman, her voice cold and distant. "How much?"
The woman's face twisted with anger. " *** doller! It's been three months. You haven't paid a single dime. If you don't pay this month, you'll be kicked out!"
Without thinking, Rose slammed the hammer down onto the desk, the sound echoing through the empty room. "You should have told Seo mu-rae that," she said, her voice flat, emotionless. Then, she turned on her heel and walked out, the woman left dumbfounded, staring after her.
"That girl finally went crazy,she is as unlucky as her name." the receptionist muttered under her breath, watching as Rose walked away with the hammer in hand.
When she stepped outside,the sight stole her breath. The streets were alive with people moving about, their laughter and chatter blending into the symphony of the city. Vehicles streamed by on the roads, their lights like stars scattered across the asphalt. Towering buildings reached for the heavens, their windows glinting with the reflection of a million stories. The night was illuminated by neon signs and glowing streetlights, a stark contrast to the abyss she had just left.
It was a world untouched by despair, brimming with life and light. It was as if the chaos and ruin she had known had never existed, as if the scars of the past had been erased, leaving only this peaceful, thriving reality.
But then, without warning, tears welled in her eyes, falling like shattered stars. She whispered, her voice trembling with a deep, consuming pain, "So this is your game? This is how you want to play?"
Her mind raced back to the drowning darkness.
She thought, recalling the last message of the Status screen: "Fate will never let you go." Those words echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain, a truth she could neither escape nor deny. Fate, relentless and unyielding, had bound her in chains invisible to the eye, dragging her through endless cycles of suffering and despair. And now, as she stood on the precipice of a new life, she realized—fate's grip had never loosened. It had simply changed form, forever entwining her soul in its unforgiving embrace.
Even in this strange new world, surrounded by life and light, there was no escape. The warmth of the bustling city, the hum of the vehicles, the laughter of the people—it all felt distant, like a world that had never been meant for her. For what is the point of life, when you have already been marked by the weight of endless trials, with nothing left to give?
She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her past pressing against her chest, suffocating her. The tears that fell were not for what she had lost, but for what she had become—an echo of a person who had been broken too many times to remember what it was like to live. In the wake of her suffering, she had become numb, a ghost adrift in a world that moved on without her.
She was bound to this path, this endless cycle, and no matter how many lifetimes she was forced to live, the chains would always pull her back.
In the end, she realized there was no freedom. Not in this world. Not in any world. The only thing that remained was the hollow, aching truth: fate would never let her go.
As the tears traced lines down her cheeks, she whispered to the darkness, "This will be the last time. The last time I cry."
And as the final tear fell, she felt it—the quiet, suffocating stillness of a soul that could no longer break, because there was nothing left to shatter.
She wiped the tears away with trembling hands,
but her gaze hardened, the fire in her chest igniting. "You sent me here, in the body of a broken, blind girl, to watch me crumble? To watch me fall? No. I will not lose."
Her words broke the air, sharp and unyielding. Every syllable burned with the force of a thousand storms."If you choose to make my life a war,Then let it be—I will stand alone.Through the pain, the scars, the endless roar,I'll endure, unbroken, to claim my throne."
As Rose stood there, her thoughts swirling, two girls passed by her, their cheerful voices cutting through the hum of the city.
"I can't wait for New Year's!" one of them said with a bright smile.
"Me neither," the other replied. "Tomorrow is finally the new year I've been waiting for!"
Their laughter was like echoes from a life Rose couldn't quite touch. Acting on impulse, she reached out and grabbed one of the girls' hands.
"What year is it?" Rose asked, her voice sharp and urgent.
The girl flinched, her expression shifting to fear. "It's 2020," she stammered before Rose released her grip.
The girl stumbled back, her fear turning to a mix of confusion and panic. "Is she crazy?" the girl whispered to her friend as they hurried away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.
But Rose didn't care about their reactions. She stood rooted to the spot, her breath catching in her throat as a storm raged in her mind.
"2020?" she murmured to herself, her thoughts unraveling like threads of an unspeakable truth.
Her hand trembled slightly as she clenched her fists, trying to ground herself in the reality of this moment. Am I in the past? she wondered, or is this an entirely different world?
The lively city around her seemed to fade as her thoughts consumed her. Rose felt a chill crawl up her spine—not from the cold, but from the uncertainty of where, or when, she truly was.
Without warning, a chilling message appeared—a silent omen cloaked in intrigue.
A notification from "000" spread across every phone, its words like a dagger to the heart:
"Hasn't your life been far too kind,a fleeting peace, a fragile bind?But tell me—how long can it truly last?Three days? Five? A week, perhaps?
This New Year bears no joy, no song,it comes with ruin, fierce and strong.Not for hope, nor celebration's light,but for chaos to reign, for endless night."
The world had no idea what it was about to face.