The room was dim, caught somewhere between shadow and light. It wasn't dark enough to conceal everything, yet not bright enough to feel safe. The weak yellow glow of a lone lamp stretched across the cramped apartment, flickering faintly like it was struggling to stay alive.
Shadows twisted along the walls, long and uneven, bending around furniture like silent observers. The air felt stale, unmoving, as dust drifted lazily through the faint light. Outside, the night wind brushed softly against the window, whispering like something distant and forgotten.
On the narrow bed lay a man.
The bed itself was small, barely meant for one person, yet the man occupying it looked even more worn than the space around him. His clothes were wrinkled and stained, his collar torn, his body marked by faint bruises and old scars.
His right hand dangled loosely off the edge of the bed.
Between his fingers rested a small bottle of alcohol, tilted slightly as if it might fall at any moment. It was half empty—or perhaps half full—but the man holding it had long stopped seeing things from the brighter side.
His name was Alex.
And at this moment, he was asleep.
Not the kind of sleep that comes with peace or rest, but the heavy, suffocating kind that drags a person into silence. It was the sleep of someone trying to escape—someone who didn't want to think anymore.
The room remained still.
So still that the faint buzzing of the lamp echoed in the silence. The ticking of the wall clock felt louder than it should, each second stretching unnaturally, as if time itself had slowed down to watch.
Then suddenly—
CRACK.
The sharp sound of glass splitting apart tore through the silence like a blade.
Alex's body jolted violently.
"Haah—!"
He shot upright, his breath ragged, as if something had ripped him out of a nightmare he couldn't remember. His chest heaved uncontrollably, each inhale shallow and desperate as cold sweat clung to his skin.
"Huff… huff… haah…"
His vision spun wildly.
The room blurred into distorted shapes, twisting and shifting like a broken dream refusing to settle. His head throbbed with a dull, crushing pain, as though something inside his skull was tearing itself apart.
"Ugh…"
He groaned, clutching his forehead tightly, fingers pressing into his temples as the pain pulsed again and again. It wasn't just discomfort—it was sharp, invasive, demanding his full attention.
Slowly… painfully… his eyes forced themselves open wider.
The blur began to settle.
Familiar shapes returned—the lamp, the crooked chair, the narrow walls closing in around him. Reality stitched itself back together piece by piece, dragging him back into awareness whether he wanted it or not.
Alex exhaled slowly.
"...Damn hangover."
His voice came out dry, almost cracking as it left his throat. He rubbed his face tiredly, forcing himself to stand, though every muscle in his body protested immediately, stiff and uncooperative.
"What the hell was that sound…?"
Still unsteady, he staggered forward, his steps uneven as he crossed the small apartment. The wooden floor creaked softly beneath him, each sound oddly loud in the quiet space.
He reached the window first.
A faint stream of cool night air slipped through a small opening, brushing against his face. Leaning closer, he examined the glass carefully, his brows pulling together as he noticed a thin crack in the corner.
"...That's it?"
His frown deepened.
"The sound was louder than that."
Confusion lingered as he scratched his messy hair, glancing around the room again. Something didn't feel right, like a piece of the moment was missing, just out of reach.
Then his gaze stopped.
The dining table.
Its glass surface was completely shattered, broken into countless fragments scattered across the floor like frozen shards of rain. The damage was impossible to miss, yet somehow he hadn't noticed it before.
Alex blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...How did I not see that?"
His thoughts struggled to catch up, but nothing made sense. The only explanation he could find was the simplest one, even if it didn't fully convince him.
"I must've been really drunk…"
He let out a slow sigh, staring at the broken glass with mild irritation. Two hundred dollars gone, just like that. For someone like him, that wasn't a small loss—it was something he'd actually feel.
But the annoyance didn't last.
A memory surfaced briefly, faint yet heavy, pushing everything else aside. Compared to that moment, the broken table felt meaningless, like something too trivial to care about anymore.
Alex exhaled.
A small, crooked smile formed.
"...Forget it."
He shook his head lightly.
"No use crying over spilled milk."
Turning away, he walked back toward the bed and dropped onto it without much thought. The mattress creaked under his weight as he stretched lazily, closing his eyes again, hoping sleep might ease the pounding in his head.
But the moment his body settled—
The mattress vanished.
"—What?!"
His body dropped instantly.
THUD.
His back slammed hard against the floor, knocking the air out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, sharp and sudden, forcing a strained groan from his lips.
"Ugh—!"
He pushed himself up slowly, wincing as he held his back.
"What the hell is wrong with today…?"
But as he raised his head—
He froze.
The room was gone.
The lamp, the bed, the broken table—everything had disappeared completely, as if it had never existed. In its place stood something vast, something impossibly real.
A forest.
Towering trees stretched endlessly toward the sky, their massive trunks rooted deep into the earth like ancient pillars. The air felt heavy, damp with the scent of moss and soil, alive in a way his room never was.
Alex stood motionless.
"..."
He blinked.
Then rubbed his eyes hard, as if forcing himself to wake up.
But when he looked again—
Nothing changed.
The forest remained.
Endless. Silent. Real.
The bottle slipped from his hand.
CRASH.
Glass shattered against the ground, but he didn't react. Instead, a laugh escaped him—quiet at first, then louder, growing uncontrollably until it echoed through the trees.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
He clutched his stomach, laughter spilling out like something unhinged.
"This is insane…!"
His voice cracked between breaths.
"Did I finally drink myself into madness?!"
He wiped his eyes, shaking his head, trying to convince himself.
"Yeah… that's it… a dream."
"A really vivid dream…"
To prove it, he pinched his arm hard.
Pain surged instantly.
Sharp. Real.
"...Alright."
He opened his eyes slowly, expecting everything to vanish.
But it didn't.
The forest remained exactly as it was.
His smile faded.
"...You're kidding me."
Then—
Drip.
Something wet landed on his head.
He frowned slightly, confused, before another drop followed. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he tilted his head upward—and the moment his eyes locked onto it, his entire body froze.
A creature clung to the tree above.
It was enormous, far larger than any animal he had ever seen. Its body was thick with muscle, dark fur rippling as it moved, while long curved fangs protruded like deadly blades.
Its crimson eyes locked onto him.
Alex's breath hitched.
The creature lowered its massive head slowly, inch by inch, until its monstrous face hovered just in front of him. Its breath was hot, foul, reeking of something rotten as it sniffed him carefully.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
"GRRRRRR."
A deep growl vibrated through the air, heavy enough to make the ground tremble beneath his feet. It wasn't just sound—it was intent, something primal that declared one simple truth.
He was prey.
Alex stepped back.
Then again.
The creature followed his every movement with terrifying precision, its lips curling into something that almost resembled a smile. It wasn't hungry—it was enjoying this.
Enjoying his fear.
And that's when instinct took over.
Run.
Alex turned and sprinted.
Branches lashed against his face, thorns tearing at his skin as he pushed forward desperately. His heart pounded wildly, his breath uneven as panic flooded his entire body.
Behind him, something moved.
Heavy footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The creature wasn't rushing.
It didn't need to.
Alex glanced back once—and his stomach dropped.
It was right there.
Closing in.
Playing with him.
Minutes blurred together as he ran, his lungs burning, his legs growing heavier with every step. His body was reaching its limit, every breath becoming harder than the last.
"I… can't…"
His vision blurred again.
Then suddenly—
A shadow fell over him.
The creature leaped.
Alex felt it before he saw it.
The air shifted violently as something massive descended from behind. He turned slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the enormous claw tearing through the air toward him.
Time slowed.
His thoughts went silent.
And then—
His mind shattered open.
Memories surged forward—not clear, not detailed, but overwhelming. Emotions, fragments, moments of his life flashed past in an instant, too fast to grasp, yet heavy enough to crush him completely.
Regret.
Failure.
Loneliness.
Everything he had been—everything he had lost—rushed through him like a storm.
So this… is how it ends.
The claw drew closer.
Closer.
He could feel the wind of it against his skin now, sharp and cold.
Death was right there.
And then—
A blue translucent screen appeared before his eyes.
[System has acknowledged Host's existence.]
[System Integration requires Host Permission.]
YES / NO
Alex barely understood it.
His mind was too exhausted, his body too broken to question anything anymore. Survival wasn't a thought—it was instinct, raw and desperate.
Without hesitation—
He chose.
YES.
The screen flickered again.
[Teleporting Host to a Safe Location for System Integration.]
Alex turned his head slightly.
The claw was already there.
Less than an inch away.
The sharp tips reflected in his eyes—
And then—
He vanished.
The claw tore through empty air.
The creature landed heavily, its crimson eyes narrowing as it scanned the forest. But the presence it had been chasing—the prey it had cornered—
Was gone.