An existential crisis threatened to shatter Rose's fragile grasp on reality. Who was she? Whose memories were these that she carried? Why had she believed these experiences were her own? Had she truly lived a life consumed by revenge? For a fleeting moment, the pressure in her head became unbearable, threatening to explode and leave her in fragments.
Suddenly, a loud pounding echoed from behind the basement door, breaking the tense silence like a thunderclap. The young man, jumped to his feet, his movements sharp with urgency, and flung the door open. A ragged group stumbled inside, their bodies marred with gruesome scars and their expressions etched with exhaustion and pain – warriors, by the looks of them, hardened by countless battles.
One man, clutching a bloodied hand, surveyed the room with desperate eyes. "Sungmin," he rasped, his voice raw with strain, "the entire area is overrun with monsters. A to F ranks, the whole spectrum. We need to get out of here, or we're all dead meat."
Without hesitation, Sungmin grabbed a first-aid kit and began working on the man's hand, his hands steady despite the rising tension. Yet his efforts seemed futile; the bleeding refused to stop, as if the wound itself mocked his attempts. A young woman nearby, her face streaked with tears, watched the scene unfold in despair. Rose recognized her as the warrior who had helped them during their escape. She too bore wounds, her body trembling as if the weight of survival threatened to crush her.
Their group numbered around ten or twelve, each one carrying the marks of survival: scars, calloused hands, and the hollow look of those who had seen too much death.
Just then, Rose's Status Screen flashed to life. [Warrior: Use your card to heal them.]
She recoiled instinctively. "I don't want to!" she protested aloud."
But the Status Screen was relentless, its message pulsing like a heartbeat: [Warrior: Pay 40 Coins to unlock card and heal people.]
As the words sank in, a realization began to take root in Rose's mind. The word "warrior" wasn't just a title or a role. It was a burden, a responsibility. It wasn't merely about strength—it was about courage, sacrifice, and the will to save lives.
She had always believed herself to be a side character, a mere bystander in the grand narrative of others. The memories she carried had shaped her, leading her to a single conclusion: the world was cruel, and survival demanded cruelty in return. That was why she had decided she would become a villain. If this world sought to destroy her, she would carve her path in defiance, even if it meant turning against everything and everyone.
But now, as the message on the Status Screen pulsed insistently before her eyes, doubt crept into her heart.
The thought unsettled her, challenging the foundation of who she believed she was. A warrior? Someone who saved lives instead of taking them? It felt foreign, almost laughable. Yet, for the first time, the idea of breaking free from the shadow of those memories—of defining herself—lit a spark within her.
For now, she didn't know what she was meant to be. She didn't know her purpose or where her path would lead. But she did know one thing: the story wasn't over, and she still had time to decide.
"I'm nobody," she thought, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile. "For now, I'll go with the flow. But one day..." Her gaze hardened, determination flickering like a flame. "One day, I'll write my own story."
With a deep breath and steely resolve, Rose tapped the buy button on the Status Screen. The cost—40 Coins—drained from her reserves, a small price for what she was about to do. Folding her legs into a meditative position, she focused on the glowing symbol on her palm. Slowly, a card materialized in her hand: The Chalice.
Golden light spilled from the chalice, bathing the dim basement in a warm, otherworldly glow. It felt like hope incarnate, soothing and powerful. Rose closed her eyes, and the light poured from within her, flowing like a gentle river over the wounded warriors. The air grew heavy with astonishment as their wounds vanished, not even scars remaining to tell the tale.
Relief and gratitude painted their faces. Some wept openly, others looked at her as if she were a miracle given flesh. Yet Sungmin's reaction was different. Panic edged his voice as he rushed to her side. "Hey, hey!"
Rose opened her eyes, her vision swimming. A glance at the Status Screen confirmed her suspicions: Stamina: 45%. Her body felt leaden, her energy drained. "Damn it," she muttered weakly before her consciousness slipped away, her body slumping into Sungmin's waiting arms.
Her eyes shot open, the unfamiliar surface beneath her snapping her back to consciousness. Disbelief washed over her as she realized she was sprawled across a lap—the young man's lap. Mortification burned through her veins, and she scrambled to her feet, her movements sharp with panic. A startled yelp escaped her lips. "How long was I out?" she demanded, her voice a little more strained than she intended.
The young man, his composure unbroken, merely shrugged. "Maybe two hours," he replied, casual and unfazed by her reaction.
Rose's eyes darted to her Status Screen, hoping for a distraction, a grounding point in this mess. The numbers blinked back at her:
[Stamina: 85%]
A flush of disbelief crept up her neck. Did I seriously sleep that soundly—on a stranger's lap—in the middle of this apocalypse? It was utterly absurd. Yet, the screen gave no answers, just cold, detached information.
She turned her gaze back to him, narrowing her eyes as she fought to suppress the awkwardness gnawing at her. "You should've at least put me on the floor," she mumbled, the words carrying an undercurrent of accusation, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to point that out.
A young woman, standing nearby with worry etched in her features, spoke up softly. "He wouldn't let go," she explained gently, offering Rose a piece of bread and a canteen. "Here, eat something."
Rose accepted the food, her fingers brushing against the canteen. Before she could take a bite, the young man leaned in, his expression teasing, the playful glint in his eyes impossible to miss. "What kind of dreams were you having?" he asked, his voice light but filled with curiosity. "You kept muttering, 'A long, a long nightmare. A never-ending nightmare.'"
Rose shoved him lightly, a flash of discomfort rushing through her at the question. She masked it with a quick, playful shove. "Don't know," she replied, her tone casual though her words felt too sharp to be entirely natural. "And stop flirting with me. It's not appreciated."
A smirk tugged at Sungmin's lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You don't say?" he teased, clearly enjoying the banter more than he should.
Rolling her eyes, Rose took a bite of the bread, the taste stale but grounding. She chewed slowly, letting the simple task occupy her for a moment. "Stop acting like we've known each other for a lifetime," she muttered, irritated by how effortlessly he slid into this dynamic.
For a brief, flickering moment, a shadow crossed Sungmin's expression—something darker, something that hinted at layers she wasn't ready to confront. But it vanished quickly, swallowed by the same playful smile that had been there before. "Well, I'm Sungmin," he said, his voice smooth as ever, though there was a subtle weight behind the introduction now. "What's yours?"
"Mu-rae," she replied curtly, the name slipping out without a second thought, a cold mask slipping back into place.
The older man from earlier, approached, his expression one of genuine concern.Young lady, are you alright?" he asked, his gaze scanning her face as if searching for any sign of weakness.
"I'm fine," Rose assured him quickly, her tone more biting than she intended. She knew what he meant—he was worried about her well-being after she'd healed them, but it didn't sit right with her. Hero? She hadn't signed up for that. "We need to leave soon, right?" she added, her impatience clear.
The older man nodded eagerly, his face lighting up with a mix of gratitude and something deeper. "Absolutely. But you, young lady, are our savior." His words carried weight, and it wasn't the first time she'd heard them today. "We will protect you, no matter what."
Rose looked around the room, her gaze meeting the faces of the other warriors who had gathered, their expressions filled with awe and admiration. A bitter taste curled at the back of her throat. Savior?
The last thing she wanted was to be a hero. The idea twisted inside her like a knot. She wasn't a hero. She wasn't even sure what she was, but she knew it wasn't that. The word "savior" felt wrong, so wrong. They didn't understand. They saw her act, her choice to help, and they thought it meant something more. But it was simple, wasn't it? She had the power, so she used it. She didn't want to be adored or revered for it.
But that's what they saw—what they would always see. A healer, a rescuer, a warrior of light. The truth, however, was far grayer. She was a survivor, nothing more, and she'd never asked for this.
Rose pushed aside the unsettling thoughts swirling in her mind. Let's not think about it, she told herself, focusing on the task at hand. She turned toward the old man and asked, "old man, Where are we going?"
Park Hyun Woo blinked, realizing he hadn't introduced himself earlier. "Ah, right, I forgot to say. I'm Park Hyun Woo, 27 years old. I'm Sungmin's college senior, so I'm not an 'old man,'" he said, with a chuckle that sounded a little forced.
When he saw Rose's lack of reaction, he became more serious. "We're heading East. The warriors we met earlier mentioned there's a shelter there."
Rose's expression remained neutral as she nodded slowly. "I see."
Park Hyun Woo's tone shifted, directing attention back to the group. "Alright, let's get ready. Everyone start packing."
Rose, however, didn't move. Her gaze focused on the space in front of her as she murmured, "End Time Oracle Deck."
Sungmin, noticing her detachment, raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice slightly edged with impatience but still respectful.
Rose didn't look at him, her tone flat as she responded, "Don't disturb me."
Sungmin didn't argue, though a hint of frustration flickered in his eyes. He leaned against the wall, waiting for her to finish whatever she was doing. His gaze never left her, but he kept quiet, sensing the tension.
The Status Screen flashed, and six cards appeared before Rose. One of them, The Shroud, began to glow with an eerie pull. Rose's eyes narrowed as she reached for the card. She grasped it firmly, closing her eyes as she felt its weight settle within her.
A moment later, she opened her eyes and glanced at her Status Screen. Stamina: 82%.
She smirked, her expression hardening. "We can't go there."
The group looked at her, their confusion evident. Park Hyun Woo furrowed his brow, genuinely concerned. "Why not?"
Rose's eyes were sharp, her voice steady as she answered, "Because there's a creature here, in the basement."
Park Hyun Woo glanced at Sungmin, his face showing a mix of disbelief and caution. Sungmin's expression shifted quickly from confusion to a knowing smirk, as though he already suspected something was off. His calmness was unsettling, but he didn't speak, allowing Rose to lead the conversation.