The night was quieter than usual.
Aliver stood at the edge of the sixth floor of an old skyscraper. The wind swirled around him, tugging at the hem of his coat as if trying to hold him back.
The city below looked small.
Streetlights formed lines that were too straight.
Too… orderly.
He gazed down without expression.
No trembling.
No fear.
Only thoughts that kept spinning.
"Ever since I was told… death is supposed to be the end."
He lifted his face slightly, staring into the night sky.
"But what if it's just a concept… given to us to stop questioning?"
Silence.
Memories of his past flashed briefly—
Being ignored.
Being considered worthless.
Feeling like a shadow.
Yet now, what he felt was not sadness.
It was curiosity.
Pure curiosity.
"I need proof," he murmured softly.
"Proof that death is real… or merely a boundary set to make us stop asking."
He closed his eyes.
Not out of despair.
Not to end something.
But to test something.
Does this world have absolute consequences?
Or is it all an illusion, pretending to be serious?
He opened his eyes.
His gaze was sharp.
"If I'm wrong… then everything ends."
"If I'm right… then this world has a flaw."
And without hesitation,
without a shout,
without any theatrics—
He stepped off into the empty air.
The wind split around him.
Time felt… strange.
Too slow.
Too precise.
And in the split second before his body would meet the ground—
Aliver smirked faintly.
Not out of joy.
But because he was finally about to get an answer.