Lucian groaned softly.
His whole body ached, muscles tightening each time he drew a breath.
Where… am I?
The question lingered in his mind, unanswered.
All that remained was silence, stillness, and pain.
Then, a memory crept in slowly, like a bitter wave that could not be stopped.
Home, in his original world.
His mother lay weak on the bed, her body growing frailer by the day.
The illness refused to leave.
Lucian was still young, yet he forced himself to be strong and refused to bow to fate. Ever since his mother fell ill, he had taken her place at work.
His father had died in an accident when Lucian was only nine years old. At that time, his mother's heart broke—shattered, while she was pregnant with a baby girl who would be born in a few months. Lucian was about to have a younger sister.
But during the pregnancy, his mother constantly thought about the husband who had left their little family behind. Then the unexpected happened: five years later, she was struck by an illness that left her unable to stand or move.
Her body could only lie weak on the bed, and she had to be fed and given water by Lucian's hand.
He did everything—selling goods, delivering packages, hard labor—anything for one thing:
For his mother to recover.
He believed that as long as he kept trying, fate would take his side.
Every night, he would gaze at his mother's sleeping face, her breathing heavy.
He would hold her hand, choke back tears, and whisper:
"I promise, Mom… I'll make you better."
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
But… fate said otherwise.
The illness never healed.
His mother grew weaker.
Still, Lucian endured. He kept working. He kept believing.
Eight years passed, until one afternoon, while he was working, his phone rang.
His voice trembled as he answered.
And his world collapsed when he heard the words:
"Lucian… your mother is gone."
His body froze.
The world felt empty. Lucian fell to his knees.
All his efforts, all his hard work… wasted.
He ran home, but it was already too late.
She was gone—without a chance to say goodbye.
Lucian embraced his little sister, still in her school uniform, sobbing uncontrollably.
And for the first time in a long while… he cried too.
He cried for the loss. For feeling like a failure, for the promise he could not keep. And because, in that moment, for the first time, his life felt like it had no meaning.
A year passed since that day.
Lucian changed.
He no longer lived for himself. Every breath, every drop of sweat—was for his younger sister.
"I won't lose anyone else."
That was his vow.
He worked, he pushed himself, he sacrificed everything.
Because family was all he had left.
But now… this.
This place, this world. The pain in his body was real.
Cold, as though he was trapped inside a block of ice.
But the world outside? Everything felt… foreign.
Was this a dream?
A punishment?
Or… something else?
He didn't know why he was here.
He didn't know who had brought him.
But one thing was certain—
He could not die here. Not yet.
His sister… was still waiting somewhere.
Even if that place might be in a world he could no longer reach.
Footsteps drew near, accompanied by a soft, heart-stirring moan. Slowly, he tried to open his eyes. Beside him sat an old man and a young woman, both staring sharply at him.
"What! Who is he? And how did I–" he muttered.
"Don't move!" the bearded old man ordered. "I found you lying weak in the middle of the city street and brought you back to my home."
The blue candlelight illuminated the living room, the kitchen, and the bedroom where he lay.
"City street? But wasn't I in Narami's library?" he thought, feeling slightly disoriented.
He tried to get up, but the old man stopped him and told him not to strain himself.
Briefly, his eyes caught the woman in the silver dress with tied-back black hair, a pair of bracelets on her arms, and a red ribbon around her neck. Her gleaming blue eyes were locked sharply on him.
Lucian could only stare back in wonder.
"Is this still the south of Monity?" he asked, deeply curious.
The woman behind the old man stepped forward and spoke. "Yes… So, do you remember anything—like how you ended up lying in the middle of the city street?"
Hearing that, Lucian remained silent. He couldn't remember anything, at least for now. But his head spun as if it were the wheel of a bicycle.
"No," he answered briefly.
The woman glanced at the old man beside Lucian. Her eyes shifted as if giving a silent signal, and the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Lucian alone.
The door closed.
He exhaled, trying to recall something.
The events from last night felt like a dream that had simply vanished.
For now, he decided to calm his mind, find a way to leave this house, and thank the two people who had helped him.
Suddenly, loud footsteps approached. Lucian, who was already standing beside the bed—though still swaying slightly—was startled by the sound.
The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Lucian looked toward it, but strangely, saw nothing.
The blue candlelight that had lit the room, the kitchen, and the living area went out, leaving darkness before him.
"Ugh!!"
Before him stretched a wide, foggy space.
Lucian could only stand still.
His steps faltered, his body weak.
His eyes felt heavy, his eyelids reluctant to stay open. It was as if he could no longer grasp what was happening to him.
In his mind, there was no hope.
Only silence… only the guilt that would not stop tormenting him.
He walked forward without stopping, facing nothing but fog and an endless road ahead.
Groans echoed from every direction—behind, in front, below, and above. But Lucian did not care.
To him, they were just meaningless sounds in the emptiness that had consumed him.
He tried to remain calm, even as the screams around him seemed to vanish from his hearing.
For him, this was already over.
The atmosphere grew void, until he reached the edge of a steep cliff, the darkness below waiting for him. But suddenly…
One sound caught his attention.
"Ahh…" His breath hitched, as though waking from a strange dream.
Beside him stood two familiar figures, one of them watching with a worried gaze: Nathan.
The two had found Lucian sitting by the roadside, tears streaming down his face without pause.
By reflex, Lucian wiped his tears with his sleeve, unaware that he had been crying at all.
"How did I end up here?" he asked, his gaze empty.
The two exchanged glances, until finally Aurora answered. "There was a crowd gathered earlier, which made me curious. So Nathan and I went to see and found you sitting, asleep, and crying. Some people didn't dare to wake you, so… what exactly happened to you?"
"Huh… I can't remember, but I'm certain I was somewhere with someone," he murmured, rubbing his forehead.
Lucian realized—these two had saved him.
"So, would you both like to come with me? Or rather… there's someone who wishes to meet you," Aurora said, waving her hand as she tried to pull Lucian closer, her sharp eyes locked on him.
Come with you?… The question echoed in his head. Lucian glanced at Nathan—who only nodded with his trademark smile.
At last, he agreed and stood, taking Aurora's hand. He straightened his posture, standing firmer than before. His breathing was beginning to steady.
He looked at Aurora and gave a faint smile.
"Hah… I'm impressed. You can tell just from a glance. But as you can see… I failed to get what I was looking for." he thought, searching for a feeling.
His tone was still weary, but honest. Lucian didn't look away. His eyes still probed, curious.
"So, who's the person we're going to meet?" Lucian asked, intrigued.