It was strange. I was in total blindness, couldn't see anything. The silence surrounding me felt suffocating, pressing in from all sides, thick like a heavy fog. My breathing was shallow, trembling with the anxiety that I couldn't quite control.
My heart raced in my chest, hammering against my ribs as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The weight of the darkness felt heavy, almost suffocating, like it was pressing down on me from every direction. My hands clenched into fists as I tried to steady my breathing, but nothing could stop the panic that clawed at my insides.
What is it? I asked shakily, my voice barely above a whisper, unsure if there was anyone or anything that could hear me. I couldn't shake the sensation that something was watching me, something beyond my comprehension, and I hated that feeling more than anything.
The voice returned—soft at first, barely a whisper in my mind—but it was there, and it sent another shiver through me.
➤ CHOI MUGYEOL
CLASS: F
UNIQUE ATTRIBUTE: MIND READING
TRAIT: TRANSMIGRATOR (LEGEND)
➤ MAIN MISSION
BECOME AFFILIATED WITH OTHER HUNTERS
HAVE FRIENDS
HAVE A FAMILY
SAVE ▇▇▇▇
LIVE A GOOD LIFE
I stared blankly, though I couldn't see. My breath came faster as I processed the words in my mind. Class F? Mind reading? Transmigrator?
The word Transmigrator echoed in my thoughts. I knew what it meant—someone brought from another world, destined for something greater. But I couldn't help but wonder... Why me?
My hands shook at the thought. Mind reading—how was I supposed to use that ability? How could I hear people's thoughts if I couldn't even make sense of my own life?
Friends. Family. The words repeated in my head, like a cruel joke. I had never known what it was like to have either. I had lived in isolation, surrounded by people who never saw me, never understood me. I had always been an outsider, even among those who should have cared. And now... the system was telling me to find friends, to form connections, to build a family. The very idea made my chest tighten, anxiety wrapping around me like chains.
I had always been terrified of people. Every encounter felt like a battlefield. Social anxiety had been my constant companion for years, a dark cloud hovering over me that I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I tried. The thought of interacting with others, of making myself vulnerable, made me want to crawl into a corner and hide.
But the mission was clear: Become affiliated with other hunters. Have friends. Have a family.
I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of those words in my chest. Was I even capable of that? Could someone like me—someone who had been abandoned, neglected, and hurt—ever truly belong? How was I supposed to fulfill this mission if my own mind was a maze of fear and doubt?
Then, the final part of the message echoed in my mind: Save ▇▇▇▇.
It was an incomplete sentence, but it felt significant. I didn't know what I was supposed to save, or who, but it gnawed at me, as if something important was missing. Maybe that was the reason I was here, the reason I had been chosen. Maybe I was meant to do something greater than myself.
But the fear didn't go away. It lingered, coiling tightly around my heart. I could almost feel the weight of everyone's expectations pressing down on me, crushing my resolve. How could I even begin to trust someone? How could I trust myself?
For a moment, I almost wished I could escape back to the familiar darkness, the emptiness that had been my only constant companion. At least in the dark, I didn't have to face the fear of rejection, the terror of feeling out of place.
But then something inside me shifted.
Live a good life.
The words lingered, like a faint light in the distance, something I couldn't quite reach but felt drawn to. A life. A good life. Could it be possible? Could I, with all my trauma, my fear, and my isolation, still find a way to live differently?
I took a deep, shaky breath. It wasn't going to be easy. I knew that. The road ahead would be filled with doubts, with panic attacks and moments of crippling fear. But for the first time in my life, there was a sliver of something else—a possibility. A chance.
Even though I couldn't see, even though my anxiety gripped me tightly, I realized something: I had a choice. For the first time in years, I had the opportunity to try—to reach for something beyond the darkness.
And maybe, just maybe, I could learn to live.