The smell of miso soup wafted through the cramped apartment, mingling with the faint scent of cleaning supplies and old wood. Sunlight struggled to filter through the single cracked window, painting the room in hazy gold. Kai crouched near the corner of the room, scowling as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn piece of duct tape. His sneakers, or what remained of them, sat in his lap like a patient at the worst shoe-repair clinic in history.

"Stop wasting time on those shoes," his grandmother's voice called from the kitchen, sharp as ever. "You'll trip and break your neck one day."

Kai held up the tattered sneakers, their once-white fabric faded to a dingy gray, with a hole at the toe big enough to wink at people. "Grandma, these are vintage! They've got character!"

"They're trash." Her curt reply came with the clatter of a ladle against a pot. Moments later, she emerged from the tiny kitchen, carrying two steaming bowls of soup.

Kai grinned as he sat cross-legged at the low table. "You just don't understand the culture of thrift, Grandma. These are priceless artifacts."

"They're priceless because no one would pay for them," she retorted, setting the bowls down. "Now eat before you waste away."

This was their routine. The morning sparring matches, the sarcastic remarks, and the quiet comfort of miso soup. No matter how rough things got—his dead-end part-time job, the never-ending rent notices, or the gnawing sense of failure that clung to him like a shadow—these moments with his grandmother made it all tolerable.

Kai lifted the bowl to his lips and slurped noisily, savoring the warmth. "Mmm. Perfect as always."

His grandmother gave him a rare smile, softening her usual no-nonsense demeanor. "Eat up. You'll need energy today."

"For what?" he asked through a mouthful of rice.

"For life," she said simply. "You can't run on empty forever, you know."

Kai smirked, setting the bowl down. "You mean I can't run, period. I'm built for lounging, not cardio."

That earned him a swat to the back of the head, and he chuckled as he rubbed the spot.

They ate in companionable silence, broken only by the occasional clink of chopsticks against bowls and the rhythmic ticking of the old analog clock on the wall. For a moment, it felt like any other day. Safe. Predictable.

Until the clock stopped ticking.

Kai froze, his chopsticks hovering mid-air. The silence was deafening. He glanced up at the clock, its second hand stuck between the twelve and the one.

"Grandma, did you—"

The words died in his throat as a low, resonant hum filled the air. It was faint at first, almost like the sound of distant machinery, but it grew louder with each passing second. The sunlight outside dimmed unnaturally, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. The very air seemed to shift, heavy and charged, like the oppressive calm before a thunderstorm.

"Kai," his grandmother whispered, her voice trembling—a sound he had never heard before. She was always so strong, so unshakable. Seeing her afraid made his stomach twist. "Something's wrong."

Kai stood slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Stay here," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I'll check outside."

Before he could take a step, the hum grew louder, rattling the bowls on the table and the very walls of the apartment. Cracks spread across the plaster like jagged veins, and the light outside flickered, as though the sun itself was sputtering.

"Grandma—" he started, but then the world shattered.

It was as if reality itself had been sliced open. The walls splintered and dissolved into fragments, revealing a blinding, otherworldly light that poured into the room. The floor beneath Kai's feet crumbled, leaving only a void of swirling colors and shapes that defied logic.

"Grandma!" Kai shouted, lunging for her, but she was already gone. Her figure flickered like a dying flame before vanishing into the abyss.

He barely had time to scream before he was falling, his body tumbling through the void. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced—weightless, yet crushing; endless, yet instantaneous.

Kai slammed onto a cold, metallic surface, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He groaned, rolling onto his back as he gasped for air. The taste of electricity lingered on his tongue, sharp and bitter. Blinking against the harsh light, he sat up slowly, his head spinning.

"What the hell…" he muttered, looking around.

The landscape—or what passed for one—was a chaotic collage of fragments. Pieces of ruined cities floated alongside jagged chunks of desert, stormy oceans suspended mid-wave, and forests frozen in time. The sky was a swirling mass of color, constantly shifting and folding in on itself.

Kai clutched his head. "Okay. This is definitely not my apartment."

WELCOME, PLAYER 100,456,783.

The voice boomed from nowhere and everywhere at once, deep and mechanical, with a strange, hollow echo.

YOUR ROLE: SURVIVOR. THE GAME BEGINS NOW.

"What?" Kai said aloud, his voice cracking. "What game? Survivor? No, no, no. I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm more of a 'spectator' type."

The voice didn't respond. Instead, the air around him grew heavy, and a deep rumble echoed in the distance. Kai turned toward the sound, his stomach sinking as he saw a massive shadow moving toward him.

It wasn't just a shadow. It was a creature—a skeletal beast wreathed in roaring flames. Its jagged, obsidian bones gleamed with molten veins of lava, and its eyes burned like twin suns. The ground beneath it melted with every step, leaving smoldering craters in its wake.

Kai stumbled back, his heart hammering in his chest. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. This is a dream. A terrible, flaming dream."

The creature let out a deafening roar, its jaws opening wide to reveal rows of serrated teeth. Flames erupted from its maw, licking at the air as it charged toward him.

"Oh, come on!" Kai yelled, scrambling to his feet. "I didn't even finish my soup!"

He turned and ran, his old sneakers slapping against the metallic ground. The beast's footsteps shook the earth, each one louder and closer than the last. Kai's lungs burned as he sprinted, weaving between floating debris and dodging streams of fire that scorched the ground around him.

"This is ridiculous!" he shouted to no one in particular. "Why me? What did I do? Is this because I stole that candy bar in fifth grade?"

The creature roared again, its molten claws swiping dangerously close to his back. Kai dove behind a chunk of floating concrete, panting as he pressed his back against the rough surface. His mind raced, searching for a plan—any plan—but all he could think about was how utterly out of his depth he was.

"Okay, Kai," he muttered to himself. "Think. You're in some weird hellscape, being chased by a flaming death machine. What's the move? What's the—"

Before he could finish, the concrete behind him exploded into shards, and the beast loomed over him, its fiery gaze locking onto his.

Kai's hands clenched into fists as adrenaline surged through him. "Screw it," he said. "If I'm going down, I'm going down swinging."

He grabbed a jagged piece of metal from the ground and charged at the creature with a war cry that was equal parts courage and pure stupidity.