Chapter 1: The Awakening
A sharp, artificial light pierced through Joon's eyelids, pulling him out of unconsciousness. His body ached, his limbs felt heavy, but the cold, smooth ground beneath him was nothing like the rough, cracked earth of his village.
He opened his eyes.
The sky stretched above him—a shade of blue so perfect it felt unnatural. The sun burned brighter than he remembered, and the air smelled too clean, too sterile. Joon sat up, his breath quickening.
Where was he?
He was in the middle of a massive, empty road. The surface was not dirt or stone but a smooth, white material that seemed to absorb the heat of the sun. On either side of the road stood enormous buildings—tall, silver, and gleaming, reflecting the harsh daylight like mirrors.
It didn't look like Seoul. It didn't look like anywhere he had ever seen.
His heart pounded in his chest. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his village, his stomach empty, his body exhausted from fetching water from a distant well. The unbearable thirst. The scorching heat. And then… nothing.
But now—he was here.
He swallowed hard, pushing himself to his feet. His head spun, and a sharp pang of dizziness made him stagger. But there was no time to panic. He needed to figure out what was going on.
A movement caught his eye.
Glass-walled homes lined the streets, sleek and futuristic, their doors sliding open with a whisper. Inside, people sat frozen in front of glowing screens. They barely moved, their bodies slumped in chairs as if they had been drained of life.
Joon's breath hitched.
They were alive. But they weren't living.
He hesitated before stepping toward one of the houses. Through the transparent wall, he saw a man reclining in an oversized chair, eyes flickering as they followed the images on his floating screen. A tray of food appeared beside him, materializing as if from thin air. The man didn't react. He didn't blink. He didn't acknowledge Joon's presence.
"Hello?" Joon knocked lightly on the glass. No response.
He knocked again, harder this time. "Hyung?"
Still nothing.
A chill ran down his spine. These people weren't dead. But they weren't… awake either.
And then it happened.
A flood of voices crashed into his mind like a tidal wave.
"New episode releasing soon!"
"Buy this now! Limited time offer!"
"Upgrade to premium for better experience."
"Entertainment pack activated."
Joon clutched his head, gasping. The words weren't spoken aloud. They were in his mind—echoing, repeating, overlapping until he thought his skull would split open.
He stumbled back, his hands trembling.
What was that?
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voices to stop. When he opened them again, the world around him remained eerily still. The man inside the house had not moved. The floating screen continued playing its endless loop of distractions.
Joon's breath came in ragged gulps.
He had heard the man's thoughts.
But those weren't real thoughts. They were advertisements. Commercials. A script playing on repeat in the man's brain.
His stomach turned.
He could read minds—but the minds here were empty.
His gaze swept over the street, taking in the lifeless figures behind every glass wall. He clenched his fists. This wasn't just a futuristic city.
This was a prison.
A world where no one thought. No one moved. No one lived.
Something was deeply, terribly wrong.
A flicker of movement pulled his attention upward.
A woman stood on a balcony several stories above him. Unlike the others, she wasn't inside her house. She wasn't staring at a screen.
She was staring at the sky.
Joon's breath hitched.
Her expression wasn't blank. It was… sad. Conflicted. Aware.
And then—she looked down.
Their eyes met.
For the first time since waking up in this strange world, someone saw him.
A surge of hope shot through his chest. He took a step forward, lifting his hand.
"Hey! You—"
Before he could finish, the woman spun on her heel and disappeared into her house. The balcony door slid shut behind her.
Joon broke into a sprint, running toward the building. He reached the entrance and slammed his palm against the smooth glass.
"Please!" he shouted. "Tell me where I am!"
Silence.
His mind reached out instinctively, searching for her thoughts.
But instead of advertisements or meaningless chatter, he felt something new.
Fear.
"They'll notice. I can't be seen talking to him. They'll notice."
Joon's stomach twisted.
Who would notice?
And why was she afraid?
A low hum filled the air. A mechanical sound, growing louder.
Joon turned, and his blood ran cold.
A floating drone hovered down the street, its sleek black frame reflecting the sunlight. At its center, a glowing red eye pulsed like a heartbeat.
It was scanning for something.
For him.
"Unauthorized individual detected."
The voice echoed from the drone, emotionless and cold.
Joon didn't wait to find out what that meant.
He ran.
The hum grew louder as the drone accelerated, chasing him down the empty street. Panic surged through his veins. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know how to fight.
He only knew he had to survive.
Joon darted into a narrow alley, pressing himself against the shadowed wall, his breath sharp and ragged. The drone hovered at the alley's entrance, scanning, searching.
For a moment, it hesitated.
Then, as if deciding he wasn't a threat, it drifted away.
Joon exhaled, sliding down to the ground. His heart hammered in his chest.
What kind of world was this?
A world where people were prisoners in their own minds. Where machines hunted those who didn't belong.
And why—why was he here?
As he steadied his breath, a new thought crept into his mind.
The woman had recognized him. She had been afraid to speak to him.
Which meant that somewhere in this world, there were others like him. People who could still think. People who still remembered what it meant to be alive.
And if they existed, they might have answers.
Answers about this world.
Answers about his powers.
Answers about how to get home.
But there was one problem.
If this world was dangerous enough to make someone afraid of speaking to him… then finding the truth wasn't going to be easy.
He was alone.
No allies. No weapons. No idea where to start.
All he had was his ability to read minds.
And in a world where no one was truly thinking…
That might not be enough.