Inside the endless darkness of the shard, Eunwoo drifted.
The void around him was silent.
No wind.
No ground.
No sky.
Just black emptiness stretching forever.
The glowing system messages still floated nearby, blinking patiently.
[Human Form Unlocked]
[User Response Required]
But Eunwoo did not see them.
He was dreaming.
At first, the dream was quiet.
A small apartment appeared.
Cramped.
Dim.
Old wallpaper peeling near the corners.
A weak ceiling light buzzed faintly overhead.
Eunwoo stood inside the room, looking around slowly.
"…ah."
His voice sounded small.
Familiar.
This place.
He knew it.
His childhood home in Korea.
The old kitchen table.
The cheap rice cooker.
The worn sofa with the blanket his mother used during winters.
Everything looked exactly the same.
The air even smelled the same.
Cheap instant ramen.
Laundry detergent.
Loneliness.
A younger Eunwoo sat at the table.
Maybe ten years old.
He was doing homework.
Pencil tapping nervously.
His school uniform was slightly too big for him.
From the other room, voices echoed.
Angry voices.
A man shouting.
A woman crying.
The boy at the table kept writing.
Pretending not to hear.
Older Eunwoo stood nearby, watching quietly.
"…right."
He remembered.
His father losing jobs.
Arguments every night.
Bills piling up.
Eventually—
His father leaving.
The apartment grew quieter after that.
But not happier.
The dream shifted.
The small apartment disappeared.
Now Eunwoo stood inside a convenience store.
Bright lights.
Rows of shelves.
Instant noodles stacked high.
The younger version of himself—now a teenager—stood behind the counter.
His eyes looked tired.
Dark circles under them.
Working late shifts.
Studying between customers.
Trying to survive.
Trying to get into university.
Trying to build a life that didn't feel so small.
Older Eunwoo watched silently.
"…you worked hard."
The dream changed again.
A small studio apartment appeared.
Barely larger than the first one.
University textbooks stacked everywhere.
Energy drink cans on the floor.
The version of Eunwoo sitting there looked older.
Exhausted.
Typing on a laptop.
Applying for jobs.
Getting rejected.
Applying again.
Rejected again.
The cycle repeating endlessly.
Bills.
Deadlines.
Loneliness.
The feeling that no matter how hard he tried—
Life never really improved.
Older Eunwoo lowered his head.
"…yeah."
That had been his life.
Working.
Trying.
Failing.
Trying again.
Nothing ever truly changing.
Until one day—
Everything had suddenly ended.
The dream darkened.
The small apartments.
The stores.
The city streets.
They all faded away.
Now Eunwoo stood inside the temple again.
The broken temple.
The night of the invasion.
The moment he had tried not to remember.
Constance stood in the doorway.
Her walking stick tapped softly against the stone floor.
She looked small.
Fragile.
But stubborn.
"Please stop," she had said.
The soldier's blade flashed again.
Eunwoo felt it all over again.
The helplessness.
The panic.
The moment he realized he couldn't save her.
The sound of her body falling.
The silence afterward.
Eunwoo dropped to his knees inside the dream.
"…stop."
His chest tightened painfully.
The memory refused to disappear.
Constance laughing softly.
Constance humming near the Mirror.
Constance talking about the wind.
Constance telling him she liked sitting there because it felt peaceful.
And then—
The soldier's blade.
Eunwoo pressed his hands over his ears.
But the memory didn't stop.
The sound of cracking glass followed.
His rage.
The explosion.
The city vanishing.
Everything.
"…stop…"
His voice trembled.
Tears ran down his face.
"I didn't save her…"
The temple memory shattered around him.
Darkness swallowed everything again.
Eunwoo knelt alone in the void.
His breathing uneven.
His heart aching with a pain that felt endless.
Then—
A voice spoke.
Soft.
Crooked.
Unnatural.
"Ah."
The sound echoed strangely in the darkness.
Eunwoo lifted his head slowly.
"Such a heavy heart."
The voice chuckled quietly.
"Memories like these are… troublesome."
Eunwoo looked around.
"Who's there?"
Nothing appeared.
But the voice was close.
Right beside him.
"Tell me," it whispered.
"Do you wish to forget?"
Eunwoo froze.
"Forget?"
"Yes."
The crooked voice sounded amused.
"Your childhood."
"Your struggles."
"Your pain."
"And the girl."
Constance's face flashed through Eunwoo's mind again.
The ache in his chest tightened sharply.
He clenched his fists.
"I…"
His voice cracked.
"I don't want to feel this anymore."
The darkness listened quietly.
"I just want it to stop."
Tears streamed down his face now.
"I didn't protect her…"
"I couldn't do anything…"
"I'm so tired."
His shoulders shook.
"I want to forget."
Silence followed.
Then the voice laughed softly.
"Ah."
"What a simple wish."
The sound was almost delighted.
"How human."
Eunwoo lowered his head.
"I just want to be free from it."
The crooked voice hummed thoughtfully.
"Very well."
Something shifted in the darkness.
A strange presence moved closer.
"Then let us remove these… burdens."
The voice began whispering words.
Strange words.
Crooked.
Unfamiliar.
They sounded like a chant.
A language Eunwoo had never heard before.
But somehow—
The words wrapped around his mind.
Warm.
Heavy.
Sleepy.
The memories of the apartment.
The convenience store.
Constance's laughter.
The temple.
The explosion.
All of them began fading slowly.
Eunwoo's vision blurred.
His thoughts grew distant.
"…it's getting quiet," he murmured weakly.
The voice chuckled again.
"Yes."
"That is the point."
The chanting continued.
Eunwoo's body grew lighter.
His consciousness drifted further away.
The last thing he heard was the crooked voice whispering one final sentence.
"Sleep well."
And then—
Eunwoo disappeared into silence.