Kim Do-Yun woke up to silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that pressed against his ears.
For a moment, he didn't move. His eyes stayed half-lidded, and his body felt heavy with the warmth of sleep. It felt like any other morning.
Until it didn't.
Something was off.
His brows slowly furrowed.
The ceiling above him looked the same—plain white with a faint crack in the corner—but the longer he stared, the more unfamiliar it became. Like a copy made from memory rather than reality.
"…What?"
His voice came out rough.
Do-Yun pushed himself up. The bedsheets rustled softly. His gaze drifted across the room and stopped.
Everything was almost right.
The desk was there.
The chair was there.
The wardrobe stood in the same corner.
But the details—
The posters that used to cover his walls were gone. The clutter on his desk had shrunk to a few scattered items. Even the faint scent of detergent his mother always used was missing.
It felt like someone had taken his room and tried to recreate it from memory.
A chill crept up his spine.
"…Did someone clean this?"
But that didn't make sense.
No one cleans this thoroughly.
And definitely not overnight.
Do-Yun swung his legs off the bed. His feet touched the cold floor. The sensation grounded him a little.
"Okay. Okay, think."
Maybe he was dreaming.
Yeah, that had to be it.
A weirdly realistic dream.
He let out a small breath and reached for his phone.
It wasn't there.
His hand froze mid-air.
"…Huh?"
He patted around the bed. Nothing. Checked under the pillow. Still nothing.
A flicker of unease sparked in his chest.
"My phone…?"
His gaze snapped toward the desk.
And that's when he saw it.
Resting quietly on the wooden surface—a tablet.
Old, thin, and slightly scratched along the edges.
His breath hitched.
"…No way."
He walked over slowly, as if approaching something dangerous.
He knew that tablet.
Of course he did.
It was his.
From years ago.
From high school.
His fingers hovered over it for a moment before finally picking it up. It felt real. Solid. Not like something from a dream.
"This has to be a joke…"
He pressed the power button.
The screen lit up instantly.
No password.
No lock screen.
Just like it used to be.
Do-Yun swallowed.
"…This isn't funny."
His thumb moved on its own, opening the home screen.
Everything looked the same.
Old apps.
Old layout.
Old memories.
His heart began to pound.
Slow.
Heavy.
Like something deep inside him already knew what he was about to see.
"…Check the date."
The words slipped out unconsciously.
He opened the time settings.
And then—
He froze.
March 3rd. Year 2017
Nine years ago.
"…What?"
The word barely came out.
His mind went blank.
Nine years?
That didn't make sense.
It couldn't make sense.
He looked around the room again.
At the empty walls.
At the cleaner desk.
At the life he had already lived.
"…No. No, no, no…"
A laugh escaped him—thin and shaky.
"I'm dreaming. That's all."
He had to be.
There was no other explanation.
Time didn't just rewind.
People didn't just wake up in the past.
This wasn't some novel.
This was real life.
Right?
Ping.
The sound cut through his thoughts.
Sharp.
Unfamiliar.
Do-Yun flinched slightly, his grip tightening around the tablet.
"…A notification?"
Slowly, he looked down at the screen.
A message had appeared.
[Breaking News]
Villain "Furo" attacks Incheon Port.
Heroes dispatched. Situation under control. No casualties reported.
Silence filled the room.
Do-Yun stared at the words.
"…Villain?"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"…Heroes?"
A hollow feeling settled in his chest.
"What kind of joke is this?"
But the tablet didn't respond.
It didn't laugh.
It didn't correct itself.
The words stayed there.
Cold.
Unchanging.
Real.
Do-Yun slowly sank into the chair behind him.
His thoughts spiraled.
Nine years in the past. Heroes and villains.
A room that wasn't quite his.
"…What the hell is going on?"
No answer came.
Only silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Outside, somewhere far away—
Sirens wailed.
Do-Yun's head snapped toward the window.
His heart pounded violently now.
Not from confusion.
Not from denial.
But from something else.
Something deeper.
Something instinctive.
Fear.
Because for the first time since waking up—
It truly hit him.
This wasn't his world anymore.
And whatever was happening out there…
Had already begun.
End of Chapter 1