Jin opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids heavy as if resisting the morning light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, he didn't move. He didn't recognize the place he was in or the sensations coursing through his body.
The sheets covering him were soft, clean, and carried the scent of fresh laundry—a luxury he wasn't accustomed to. There was a stark contrast between this comfortable place and the familiar discomfort of his apartment, with its worn-out bed and persistent smell of mold. The walls here were pristine white, adorned with framed photographs of soothing landscapes—a beach at sunset, a dense forest illuminated by beams of light, a snowy mountaintop. Everything about this room exuded tranquility.
He blinked, his mind still foggy. Where was he? Why did he feel both so heavy and so light? His right hand slid slowly over the sheets, searching for an anchor. His fingers grazed the soft, smooth texture of the fabric.
Then, the memories rushed back. The collapse. The hallway. Yoona.
He sat up abruptly, his heart pounding, and a sharp pain shot through his skull.
"Ah…" he groaned, clutching his head. He slumped slightly, pressing his back against the headboard, trying to catch his breath.
The room seemed to watch him, silent but full of life. A green plant climbed from a shelf to his left. On the small bedside table, a diffuser released a thin stream of vapor. Beside it, a leather-bound notebook lay, a pen resting atop it. Jin stared at it for a moment, as though expecting it to hold answers.
His gaze then fell on a handwritten note placed nearby. The handwriting was familiar:
"I've gone out to get groceries. Rest up. Yoona."
A sigh of relief escaped his lips, followed by a sense of unease. Yoona had brought him to her home. Why had she gone to such lengths? He was just dead weight. His gaze drifted into the void, and he murmured almost inaudibly:
"Why is she doing this…?"
He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to dispel the mental fog that engulfed him. But his thoughts kept looping.
I should leave. I can't stay here.
He looked down at his clothes, wrinkled and still stained with yesterday's dust. Even though someone had changed him somehow, he still felt dirty. Unworthy of this room, of this help.
She'll eventually realize… realize that I'm not someone worth saving.
He clenched his fists, his jaw muscles tightening as he fought the urge to get up and leave immediately. But his body betrayed him—still heavy, still numb.
"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
A soft noise caught his attention. On a shelf near the window, a frame held a photo of Yoona surrounded by colleagues, all smiling, clearly atop a hill during a hike. Seeing her happy and relaxed pinched his heart. This woman had a normal, stable life. She had no reason to involve herself in the problems devouring him.
His gaze shifted to the diffuser, its light softly changing colors. He raised his hand and watched it for a moment, remembering the inexplicable strength he had felt the previous day. His fingers curled into a fist, then relaxed, as if trying to comprehend what he had become.
A strange shiver ran down his spine. He turned his head toward the window. Outside, the sky was gray, with clouds slowly gathering. Jin couldn't shake the feeling that this tranquility was just a facade.
The street noises seemed distant, muffled by thick walls and partially closed shutters. His eyes wandered over the cluttered coffee table, with a stack of magazines and a half-empty cup of tea among other everyday items. His chest rose irregularly as he tried to control the whirlwind of thoughts invading him.
He recalled the previous day. The uncontrollable violence, the horrified looks of bystanders, the bitter words of his boss echoing in his mind: "You're nothing but a threat. If you were a normal man, you'd control your impulses." Those words, sharp as blades, pierced him again, filling him with shame and anger. But this time, the anger was directed at himself.
He ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away his thoughts.
"What's wrong with me? Why do I see these things?" he murmured, barely audible.
Doubts crept into every corner of his mind. These hallucinations—were they just that? Or was he losing touch with reality? His fists clenched on his knees, his breathing growing heavier. Jin no longer knew how to distinguish dreams from waking life. And that power… that strength he had felt the day before when he struck the floor of his old apartment… That was far from normal.
He raised his eyes to the window, the curtains slightly drawn, allowing a sliver of morning light to pass through. A sound of a piece of furniture being moved in another room reminded him he wasn't alone. Yoona was somewhere behind that closed door, maybe in the kitchen or the bathroom. She had offered him refuge without asking for anything in return, but he couldn't understand why. Why she, who owed him nothing, would bother to care for him when he was nothing but a burden.
"I'm dead weight, a useless wreck," he muttered to himself, his lips trembling. "I shouldn't have accepted her help."
He lowered his head, his black hair falling in messy strands over his eyes.
The kitchen door opened gently, and Yoona appeared, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits. She wore an oversized sweater slipping slightly off her shoulder, her hair tied in a loose bun. She stepped into the room, placing the tray on the coffee table. Jin didn't even lift his head.
"Are you hungry?" she asked softly, breaking the heavy silence.
Jin shook his head without meeting her gaze. Yoona sat beside him, her eyes searching his face.
"Jin, can you tell me what happened yesterday?" she asked after a moment of hesitation.
Her voice was gentle but firm. Jin sensed a trace of concern behind her words. He slowly looked up at her, but quickly averted his gaze, unable to hold her piercing stare.
"It's nothing. A panic attack… just… hallucinations," he replied, his voice hoarse and weak.
"Hallucinations?" Yoona frowned, placing a light hand on his arm. "Jin, you're about to collapse. You don't sleep, you work like a madman, and yesterday…"
She trailed off, searching for the right words not to upset him.
"Yesterday, you hit a tourist. I know that's not you. But… it wasn't just a panic attack, was it?"
Jin felt his heart tighten. The guilt he had managed to contain until now suddenly burst forth.
"I don't know what's happening to me!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. "I see them… these things… Monsters! Everywhere, all the time! And sometimes, I don't know what's real or not. Yesterday… yesterday, I saw…"
He trailed off, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled slightly, and Yoona could see the internal battle he was waging.
"Jin…" She leaned in gently, her voice softening further. "You're not alone. If you need help, I'm here. But I need to understand what's going on."
Jin looked up at her, his eyes clouded with emotion. "You wouldn't understand. Even I don't understand."
Yoona studied him for a moment, then sighed, placing her hand over his. "Then help me try. But don't do this alone. You'll break, Jin."
The silence returned, but this time it felt less oppressive. Jin didn't respond, but the idea that someone might understand—or at least try—sparked a faint glimmer of hope in his troubled mind.
The room's silence was suddenly interrupted by a faint crackling sound, followed by a metallic clank. The lights flickered once, twice, then went out completely, plunging the apartment into darkness. Jin, still standing near the window, felt an inexplicable tension fill the air.
"What the…?" Yoona murmured, clearly alarmed.
She quickly moved toward the kitchen, probably to check the switches. Jin remained frozen. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he continued staring at the street below.
His heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing became shorter. He placed a hand against the cold glass, seeking some grounding amidst the sudden chaos.
"Jin!" Yoona called from the other room. "It's probably a general power outage. I'll get a flashlight. Wait here."
He heard her rummaging through drawers. But something about the atmosphere felt off. A suffocating sensation, as if someone—or something—was watching him.
He turned his gaze away from the window and moved toward the table where his phone lay. The screen was still lit, casting a faint bluish glow. He checked his notifications: nothing new. Yet, an unusual message caught his eye.
A text from an unknown number:
"Are you ready to face the truth?"
A cold shiver ran down his spine. His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to open the message. But before he could read it, the screen suddenly went black.
"No, no, no…" he muttered, pressing buttons frantically. But nothing. The phone wouldn't respond.
Yoona's voice brought him back to reality. "I found it!" she said, returning to the living room with a flashlight. She illuminated the room, and Jin looked at her as if her mere presence grounded him back to some semblance of normality.
"You okay?" she asked, noticing his troubled expression.
"There was… something," he stammered, showing her his phone. "A message… but now it's dead."
Yoona frowned. "A message? What kind of message?"
"I don't know. It said something like… 'ready to face the truth.' But I couldn't read it fully."
She stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing the gravity of his words. Then, she switched on her flashlight, aiming its beam toward the window. "Maybe it's all in your head, Jin. Or maybe it's not."
At that moment, a loud thud echoed from the hallway. Both of them froze. It was a dull sound, like something heavy being dragged across the floor. Jin exchanged a worried look with Yoona.
"You heard that?" she whispered.
He nodded, stepping cautiously toward the door. Part of him wanted to stay away, but another—the part burning to understand what was happening—pushed him to act.
"Wait, Jin. Don't do anything reckless," whispered Yoona, placing a hand on his arm.
He took a deep breath, the flashlight beam sweeping across the entrance. Jin slowly opened the door, glancing into the hallway. Everything seemed normal, except for the darkness. But that noise…
A new vibration in his pocket made him jump. He pulled out his phone, which had somehow turned back on. This time, the screen displayed a series of rapidly scrolling numbers before stabilizing on a single phrase:
"Let the game begin."
Yoona, who had seen the screen, stared at him with a mix of worry and fear. "What is that? Jin… what does it mean?"
He didn't have an answer. All he knew was that this mystery was deepening, and he had no choice but to face it.