The harsh fluorescent lights flickered above him, casting long shadows on the cold concrete floor. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to make sense of the situation, but his mind refused to cooperate. His hands were shackled to the metal chair, a chilling reminder of how much he didn't understand.
"Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse from a mix of panic and confusion.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows—tall, sharp-eyed, and wearing a black suit that contrasted with the sterile white surroundings. The figure didn't speak at first, simply observing him as though trying to gauge his reaction. The silence stretched, suffocating, before the person finally spoke.
"You really don't know, do you?"
His stomach lurched. "No, I don't," he replied, his voice shaky, "I don't even know how I got here."
The figure's lips twitched into what could have been a smile, but it didn't reach their cold eyes. "Curious… most people who end up here are far more… informed about their situation."
"I… I don't remember anything," he stammered, desperation creeping into his voice. "All I know is it's my 18th birthday. I woke up… and then everything was different. I don't—"
"Your 18th birthday," the figure interrupted, their tone mocking. "Yes, a significant day, isn't it? A moment where everything you've ever known is turned upside down."
His breath hitched. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples. "What do you mean by that? Why am I here?"
The figure circled around him, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. "You're in a place where your past no longer matters. A place where you can no longer rely on the memories you once had."
"I don't—"
"You're in a world you've only dreamed of," the person continued, ignoring his interruption, "but dreams are tricky things. You see, you've been thrown into this world, not as a participant, but as an observer. And now, the rules of your reality no longer apply."
His thoughts were a jumbled mess. A world he'd only dreamed of? What was happening? His mind tried to grasp for the one thing that might make sense—anything that could anchor him. But then, like a flash of light in a dark room, a thought hit him.
"This is... this is like one of those webtoons I used to read, isn't it?"
The figure's smile grew sharper, but there was no warmth in it. "Ah, so you've finally realized. But you remember so little. Don't you? The curse has already begun."
"What curse?" His voice cracked, his mind spiraling. "What curse are you talking about?"
The figure stepped back, hands clasped behind their back. "It's simple, really. The curse that has made you forget. The curse that has taken your memories and distorted this world into something unrecognizable. The curse that prevents you from remembering everything you once knew."
His breath quickened. "I… I remember reading those webtoons, yes. But… I don't remember anything specific. It's all fuzzy. Why can't I remember?"
The figure's expression softened, but it wasn't kind. "Because you are no longer a mere reader. You are living in a world that once only existed on a screen. And yet, you know nothing about it, nothing about the rules. This world, like the others, will trap you in its web, just as it's done to countless others before you."
His mind raced. He was trapped. And it was his fault. Somehow, this wasn't just some coincidence—it was happening because of the very things he'd read, the worlds he had once explored from the comfort of his room. But how? How was this possible?
"Why… why can't I remember?" he repeated, his voice a whisper of panic. "What's happening to me?"
The figure leaned in closer, eyes narrowing. "That's the nature of the curse. To forget. To lose what matters most. But don't worry. You will find yourself in time… but you may not like what you find."