*"…Guilds have appeared in every major country. More and more heroes are being recognized. Ordinary people are awakening powers never seen before. The world we knew is gone. A new era has begun."*
The news anchor's voice droned faintly from the television.
Sam leaned back against the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling, listening without really hearing.
"One month…" he thought.
One month since the sky had cracked open.
One month since monsters walked the streets.
One month since the world — and something inside him — had broken.
"Guilds. Heroes. Powers. Monsters…"
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
Then, quietly—
"…Me too."
The word slipped free before he realized he'd spoken.
His chest tightened.
"I changed too."
He pressed his palm against his heart.
But nothing beat back.
No excitement. No fear. No anger.
Just… quiet.
"It feels like my emotions are fading," he whispered. "Like someone turned the volume down on everything."
He closed his eyes.
Nothing came sharply anymore. Happiness felt distant. Fear felt muted. Even sadness was only a dull ache — like pressure behind his ribs instead of pain.
Something inside him was… missing.
Slowly, he stood and walked to the kitchen.
"I'm hungry," he muttered. Then frowned. "No… I'm not. My stomach is empty, but I don't feel it."
He opened the fridge, pulled out leftovers, and sat on the cold kitchen floor, eating straight from the container.
The taste barely registered.
Sweet, salty, warm — it all blurred into nothing.
After finishing, he washed the container, dried it, and returned it to the fridge with mechanical precision, like a robot following instructions instead of a boy living his life.
Then he went straight to his room.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it turned lazily above him.
"Whenever I close my eyes…" he whispered, "…I only see terrifying things."
Darkness.
Red eyes.
That voice.
"One month has passed… and I haven't stepped outside even once."
Not because he couldn't.
Because he didn't want to.
Because outside meant noise. People. Reality.
And reality meant remembering.
He shut his eyes.
And forced himself to sleep.
---
Suddenly—
📱 *Ring! Ring!*
Sam jolted violently.
His entire body snapped upright as if electrocuted, heart slamming so hard against his ribs he thought it might tear straight through his chest.
"Hah—!" He sucked in a sharp breath, fingers digging into the mattress. "It's just the phone… just the phone…"
His hand shook as he reached for it.
"Hello?" he said cautiously.
(Heyyyy dude! How are you doing?!)
The voice exploded through the speaker.
Sam winced and pulled the phone away from his ear.
"Jack… don't shout so loud. I can hear you just fine."
(Where have you been, man?! A whole month — no call, no message! If you're alive, at least text once! Do you even know what's going on right now?!)
Jack continued without taking a breath.
(Hello?! Hello?! Is Sam on the line?! Say something!)
"You stop talking first," Sam muttered, rubbing his temple, "then I can speak."
(So you *are* alive! Then why didn't you call even once, you jerk?!)
Sam hesitated.
"I just… didn't feel like talking."
Hearing his friend's familiar, chaotic voice — loud, stupid, alive —
Something inside Sam loosened.
Not much.
But enough.
For the first time in a month—
He smiled.
"How are you doing, Jack?" he asked quietly.
(I'm fine. But man, I thought you died! Then yesterday, while I was crossing the road to go to my guild, I saw your mom. She told me about you — said you've been sad and lost lately. I thought maybe you were depressed because of me since I'm your friend. Though Jerry's also your friend… but I thought maybe you thought I died, so you were sad—)
"Jack," Sam sighed. "Breathe."
(Anyway! I've got good news. Not one — two good news!)
"I already know what your good news is," Sam said, smiling faintly.
(Oh? Then guess. If you guess both, I'll pay dinner tomorrow night.)
"Dinner… at night?" Sam asked, surprised.
(Yeah. And that's actually the thing I called to tell you — tomorrow evening, we're meeting. All three of us.)
"…Three?" Sam repeated.
(Me, you, and Jerry. Already told him. Now I'm telling you.)
"Tomorrow?" Sam said, his chest tightening slightly.
He hadn't gone out.
Hadn't met anyone.
Hadn't even wanted to.
(Yes. Tomorrow. No excuses. I'll send you the location. You *have* to come.)
Before Sam could reply—
The call ended.
He stared at the screen.
"…He hasn't changed at all," Sam murmured — smiling for real this time.
And then—
He felt it.
Someone watching him.
He turned.
And froze.
Nina stood in the doorway.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Her lips trembled.
Her small hands clenched tightly against her chest, like she was holding herself together.
Sam panicked instantly.
"Nina?! What happened?" He rushed toward her. "Did you fall? Did you get hurt? Where does it hurt?"
At the sound of her crying, their mom came running.
"Mom's here, sweetheart," she said softly, kneeling and pulling Nina into her arms. "What happened?"
Nina pointed at Sam with shaking fingers.
"Mom… brother… brother was smiling…"
Her voice broke completely.
"…He smiled."
The room went silent.
Sam's mother froze.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Sam stared at them both, confused.
"…What?" he asked. "Why are you both crying?"
---
A little while later…
They sat together at the dining table.
For the first time in weeks, Sam was eating properly.
Not mechanically.
Not in silence.
But like before.
Talking.
Answering questions.
Responding naturally.
Smiling.
Laughing — even if it was quiet.
His parents watched him like people witnessing a miracle they were afraid to blink and lose.
His mother kept glancing at him between bites.
His father's shoulders finally relaxed.
Nina refused to leave his side.
"Nina," Sam said, glancing down, "why are you sitting in my lap?"
"Because if I leave you," she said seriously, "you'll become like before."
"…Like before?"
"Like when you didn't smile."
His chest tightened.
"Nina, your brother can't eat properly like that," their mom said gently. "Go sit in your chair."
"No," Nina pouted, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. "I won't."
"It's okay, Mom," Sam said, smiling softly. He lifted a spoon and fed Nina a bite. "She can sit here."
Nina beamed.
After dinner, Sam stood.
"Mom, Dad… I'm going out with my friends tomorrow."
Their faces lit up instantly.
His mom's eyes softened with relief.
"That's wonderful, honey," she said. "Have fun."
"Good," his dad nodded approvingly. "You need it."
"Okay," Sam said. "I'm going to sleep. Good night."
"Good night, my son."
"Good night, sweetheart."
"Good night, big brother!" Nina waved enthusiastically.
In his room, Sam leaned back against the closed door and exhaled.
"…How stupid I was," he muttered. "I didn't even notice my family's feelings."
His hand clenched slowly into a fist.
"But not anymore."
His eyes sharpened.
"I don't know what happened to me. I don't know how I got into this mess…"
He lifted his head.
"…But not anymore."
---
That night—
Darkness returned.
Sam found himself standing in endless black.
Cold crept up his spine.
His heartbeat quickened.
No.
Not again.
He dropped to his knees and clamped his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut.
"I won't accept this," he whispered hoarsely. "I won't…"
1 second.
2 seconds.
3 seconds.
10 seconds.
A full minute passed.
Nothing happened.
No voices.
No screams.
No red eyes.
Slowly… carefully… Sam opened his eyes.
Nothing.
His breathing steadied slightly.
Maybe…
Maybe it's over.
He gathered what little courage he had and tried to stand—
**SLAM.**
An invisible force crushed him back into the ground.
The breath exploded out of his lungs.
Again—
**SLAM.**
Harder.
Again—
**SLAM.**
The darkness erupted with horrifying faces.
Blood-curdling screams tore through the void.
Pressure crushed his body from every direction.
His bones screamed.
His lungs burned.
His heart hammered wildly.
For the first time in weeks, a single thought cut through everything else—
*I'm going to die.*
"This isn't real…" he whispered desperately. "This can't be happening… I won't accept this…"
But then—
He saw Nina's tears.
His mother's shaking hands.
His father's worried eyes.
The warmth of the dinner table.
The smile that returned.
And the vow he made.
*Not anymore.*
His eyes snapped open.
With trembling legs, he pushed himself up.
The pressure slammed down again—
But he didn't fall.
His knees shook.
His vision blurred.
His teeth clenched.
But he endured it.
Then—
With everything he had left—
"STOP IT!" he roared.
His voice tore through the darkness.
"SHOW YOURSELF!"
Silence.
The screams vanished.
The faces dissolved.
The crushing force evaporated.
And in front of him…
A monster appeared.
Chained.
---
**Chapter 4 — End**