The first thing that disappeared was the word water.
Kim Min-jae knew it had existed.
He could feel it like a shape in his mind, like a hole where something essential had been ripped out. His tongue tried to form the word, but all that came out was silence.
Around him, no one reacted.
Not when the river beside the city square shimmered under the pale morning light.
Not when a child pointed at it and asked,
"What is that?"
Not when her mother hesitated… and failed to answer.
Min-jae's chest tightened.
Something was wrong.
No. Something had already gone wrong.
It started small.
A street vendor stood behind his cart, staring blankly at a steaming pot. His hands trembled as he picked up a ladle, then froze.
"What was I doing…?" he muttered.
Across the street, a group of office workers argued not about work, but about directions.
"There was a subway station here," one insisted.
"There's never been one," another replied.
Min-jae turned slowly, scanning the city of Seoul.
Everything looked normal.Too normal.
Cars moved. People talked. Screens flickered with news that no one seemed to truly process. But beneath it all, there was a quiet, creeping emptiness like the world was being erased in invisible strokes.
"Hyung."
The voice snapped him out of it.
Park Ji-hoon stood a few steps away, holding two cups of coffee. Or something that used to be called coffee.
Ji-hoon frowned. "Why are you staring like that?"
Min-jae hesitated. "Do you… remember what that is?" he asked, pointing to the river.
Ji-hoon followed his gaze.
For a moment, his expression went blank.
Then he laughed awkwardly. "Of course I do. It's..."
He stopped. The smile faded.
"It's…" Ji-hoon tried again, his voice weaker now.
Min-jae felt it. The exact moment the memory slipped.
Ji-hoon blinked rapidly, then shook his head.
"Why are you asking weird questions? Let's just go."
He handed over one of the cups.
Min-jae didn't take it.
"Ji-hoon," he said quietly, "you don't remember, do you?"
Ji-hoon's expression hardened. "Remember what?"
Min-jae didn't answer. Because he already knew. It wasn't just words.
As the minutes passed, things got worse.
A woman forgot how to unlock her phone.
A man stood in the middle of the road, unable to remember how to walk. A student stared at his own notebook like it belonged to someone else.
And no one panicked. That was the most terrifying part.
They adapted. They accepted it like the world itself was rewriting their reactions.
Min-jae clenched his fists.
Why am I the only one noticing this?
The thought echoed louder than anything else.
And then a sound came.Not from the city. Not from the people. But from somewhere deeper. There was a low, distorted crack like reality itself had fractured.
Min-jae's head snapped toward an alleyway between two buildings.
Darkness pooled there. Not natural shadow, but something thicker and wrong.
The air felt reversed. It was cold and hot at the same time. And then it moved.
Something stepped out. It was not a person and not even an animal.
It was incomplete.
Its body flickered, like frames of existence were missing. One moment it had an arm, the next it didn't. Its face shifted constantly—blurred, undefined.
Min-jae's breath caught.
"What is that?"
Behind him, Ji-hoon glanced over and frowned.
"What are you looking at?" he asked.
Min-jae's heart dropped.
"You don't see it?"
"See what?"
The thing tilted its head.And then it looked directly at Min-jae.
A whisper filled his mind. It was not a voice. It was a memory.Something that didn't belong to him.
A collapsing building and some screams of some people.A name he didn't recognize.
And then he felt pain.Min-jae staggered back, clutching his head.
"What the"
The moment broke. The thing lunged.
"RUN!" Min-jae shouted.
Ji-hoon flinched. "What are you talking about?!"
Min-jae didn't wait. He grabbed Ji-hoon's arm and pulled him away just as the creature slammed into the ground where he had been standing. The pavement cracked. But wait.
No. It reversed.
For a split second, it looked repaired then shattered.
People finally screamed. But even then, it felt delayed and unreal.They ran through streets that no longer made sense.
Past people who forgot why they were running.
Past signs that changed language mid-glance.
Past a world that was slowly, quietly dying backwards.
Min-jae's lungs burned. His mind raced.
That thing. It wasn't real.
No.
It was something worse.It was something that had been erased.
And somehow, he was the only one who could still see it.
Behind him, the creature let out a sound that wasn't a roar. It was a glitch.A broken echo of existence.
And as Min-jae ran, one thought refused to leave him.Clear. sharp.Terrifying.
If the world keeps forgetting…
How long until it forgets me?