It was dark. Very dark. Darkness filled all around, thick and silent, pressing in from every side. A young man — seventeen, not a child, but not quite a man either — lay on a cold, smooth surface that looked like black obsidian. His hair was black, his eyes dark, blending into the void around him.
There was no light here. Not even a faint glow. Just endless, suffocating darkness, stretching in every direction with no end. This was Minwoo. He opened his eyes slowly, not with shock, but with quiet awareness, as if waking from a dream he had no intention of escaping.
"Where… where am I?" he whispered.
His voice didn't fade. Instead, it echoed — soft at first, then again, and again, bouncing off unseen walls, ringing in his ears like a whisper from someone standing just behind him.
He sat up, then stood, brushing his hands against his clothes. He began to walk forward, not knowing where he was going, because there was no direction to choose. There was only movement — one foot in front of the other — into the unknown.
He remembered clearly: just moments ago, he had been in his bed, lying under the thin blanket, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how tired he was, how empty his life felt. And then… nothing. No dream. No sound. Just this — sudden, complete darkness.
But he wasn't afraid. Not really. He had always known his mind wasn't like others'. He had seen strange things before — shadows moving when no one was there, voices calling his name in empty rooms, dreams that felt more real than waking life. His thoughts often wandered into places that made no sense, and sometimes, he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't.
So this? This was just another hallucination. Another nightmare. Something his broken mind had created, like so many times before.
He stopped walking and pinched his cheek hard, expecting the sharp pain to wake him up. But nothing happened. The darkness remained.
He sat down on the cold ground, then lay back, closing his eyes tightly, waiting for the world to shift, for the room, the bed, the ceiling to return. But still, there was nothing. No change. No waking. Just the same heavy silence.
He stayed like that for a long time. He didn't have a clock, no phone, no way to check the time. But he could feel it — his body knew. His mind counted the slow, dragging minutes.
Half an hour had passed. Maybe more.
And the nightmare… hadn't ended.
After thinking for a while, Minwoo came to the conclusion that no matter what he tried, this dream wasn't ending. He even began to wonder — maybe this wasn't a dream or nightmare at all. Maybe, just maybe, it was something else.
So, suddenly, he opened his eyes, stood up, and continued moving forward in the same direction as before. Time passed. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours — one, two, three. By now, Minwoo had lost count. He was tired — not just physically, but deep in his bones. Tired of walking. Tired of the endless darkness. No matter what he did, he didn't wake up. There wasn't even a trace of light.
At this point, exhaustion weighed on him like a stone. He stopped, lowered his head, and spoke into the void.
"Damn it… damn it all. Why am I so cursed? No matter where I go, bad things happen. It's like… a shadow of misfortune follows me. Wherever I am, disaster finds me."
He paused, voice quieter now.
"That's why I never let anyone close. That's why no one ever comes near me."
It was true. Minwoo had always been alone — not by choice, but by nature. Since childhood, he had been different. Quiet. Cold. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it was only what was necessary. Other children, even as kids, seemed to sense something off about him — not dangerous, but… distant. Unreachable. They would approach at first, curious, but soon grow uneasy, then avoid him. Some even started to dislike him, not because he did anything wrong, but simply because his presence felt heavy, like silence before a storm.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the air changed.
He felt it — a shift in the darkness. Something moved. Not with sound, but with weight. Then, slowly, a gaze fell upon him — not from any direction, but from within the void itself. It wasn't just looking. It was piercing — as if whatever it was had reached into his very being, touched the core of who he was.
Minwoo's body went cold. A shiver ran through him. He froze.
Something had sensed him.
And it was watching.
Then, without warning, his eyes widened. He felt it — something vast, something enormous, stirring in the dark. He didn't see it. Didn't hear it. He only knew it was there — massive, ancient, and terrifying.
He didn't wait.
He turned and ran — not in panic, but in pure, instinctive terror. He didn't know what it was. Didn't know what it looked like. He only knew one thing:
It was real.
And it had noticed him.
He kept running for a long time, until he was certain he had put enough distance between himself and that enormous, terrifying presence. Slowly, slowly, he came to a stop, hands on his knees, chest heaving, breath coming in sharp gasps. Sweat covered his body, cold against his skin. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat. He was still shaking, still stunned.
What was that thing? he thought. Or… was it even a thing?
It wasn't like anything he could name. It felt like the void itself had become aware — like darkness had turned its gaze toward him. But he wasn't sure. Nothing made sense. Another thought rose in his mind, colder than the rest:
Is this place even real to begin with?
What if I die here?
God damn it… is any of this real, or just another illusion?
Ugh… his head throbbed, a dull, heavy pain behind his eyes.
Then, he began to move forward again — one slow step at a time.
And suddenly, he noticed something he hadn't before.
His footsteps — which had been muffled, almost silent — now echoed clearly.
He took another step.
The sound bounced back — not once, but twice.
As if something were standing in front of him, reflecting the noise.
It was as if… someone was there.
Minwoo froze.
He remembered what had happened before — when that vast, incomprehensible presence had turned its gaze on him. He had thought it was a creature of the void. But this was different.
He didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Only the sound of his heartbeat and ragged breath broke the silence.
But something was different now.
Before, there had only been emptiness and something moving in it.
Now, he could feel it — a presence.
In front.
Waiting.
He thought about turning back, about running again — faster than before.
But he knew it was useless.
That thing from earlier was still out there.
Closer than he wanted to believe.
He couldn't sense it directly, but he remembered the weight of its gaze — vast, ancient, motionless.
And this new presence… it was not the same.
He was sure of it.
Not 100%, but close enough to trust his instinct.
Still, he could feel something — like an object or thing ,right in front of him.
Minwoo stood motionless for what felt like minutes.
Then, slowly, he stepped forward again — one foot, then the other — careful, quiet.
Closer.
Closer.
And then —
He gasped.
His breath caught in his throat.
His body froze.
Then, slowly, he reached out.
His fingers brushed against something solid — cold, smooth, unyielding. He pressed his palm flat against it. No give. No movement. Just a hard, vertical surface stretching upward and sideways, far beyond the reach of his hands.
Minwoo stood still, confusion settling over him like a fog.
This wasn't part of the void.
This wasn't endless dark.
This was real.
Tangible.
He stepped back, then moved left — only a few inches — and tapped his fingers gently against the surface.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound echoed, sharp and clear, bouncing back from the unseen space ahead.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
No voice.
No shift.
No response.
Just silence, returning like a held breath.
He ran his hands along the edge, searching. After a moment, his fingers found a vertical gap — a seam. Then another beside it.
Two.
Two surfaces.
Two doors.
And behind them?
He didn't know.
But for the first time since waking in this darkness…
He wasn't alone.
Something was on the other side.