I huff and puff like a madman—like someone who had finally seen hope after being suffocated in endless darkness.
Level 10HP: 100 MP: 30Character: An enigmatic figure from another world.Skills Unlocked:Throwing Techs – 2 MP cost, Base Damage: 20–100Stats:ATK: 29 DEF: 15 AGL: 30 WIL: 22 LCK: 4 INT: 20 STA: 30
What Adam felt in that moment was not relief—no. It was anger. Pure, raw fury. He had been killed over and over again by these creatures—these four-legged abominations with arms and eyeless heads. The very first time he had experienced death, it tore his soul apart. But worse than death was the repetition... the endlessness of it.
I coughed, blood pooling in my throat. I was tired. Confused. Why was I here again? Minori... he should've known I was in danger. He should've helped me. Did he abandon me? Was this his doing?
More confusion swelled up in my chest as I remembered those long-necked creatures—the ones with heads shaped like oblong helmets, mouths stretching across the entirety of their twisted skulls. One of them managed to sink its teeth deep into my neck.
[Critical Damage! 25 x 3 = 75 – 30 DEF → 45 Base Damage]
My eyelids fluttered. Darkness crept in like a wave of smoke. The pain was unbearable, the suffering relentless. Even though I was stronger now, even though I had grown, these things had no fear. Tens of them had grappled my limbs, mocking me with their small, dull eyes and underdeveloped brains—smiling, taunting, grinning like predators before my head was crushed once again.
I had made a promise to myself in that moment, before death took me again: I will kill them all. Every single one I see. No matter what.
I woke up in a different house this time. Another untouched place, with unbroken walls and stale air. I lay on the bed of what must have been a lucky survivor's home. A retro CRT television buzzed in the corner, spitting out static.
A faceless person sat on a chair, unmoving, watching the screen in silence.
The static buzzed louder with every breath I took. The silence made it unbearable. I reached out to turn it off—but before I could, the faceless person gripped my hand. It was firm, not crushing, but enough to send shivers up my spine. The way its two long tendons wrapped around my wrist rekindled a memory I wanted buried. I flinched and lightly pushed the hand away—but it snapped. Bone cracked like dry twigs. The faceless one dropped to the floor like a rabid dog and began to scream.
It had no mouth. Yet it screamed.
The terror crept into me, thread by thread, like vines wrapping around my brain. My mind began to blank. I couldn't think clearly. I grabbed the thing by its shoulders, staring at its featureless face. It had no mouth, yet its shriek pierced through my bones.
"I—Shush. Shut up!" I hissed.
But it wouldn't stop. It kept going, wailing like a siren with no source.
A strange thought formed in the corner of my mind. Just one swipe—one single hit with the strength I now possessed—and I could reduce this thing to mush. Its skull would collapse like an egg. I could silence it forever. But I didn't.
No. That thought scared me.
The irony clawed at me. Was I turning into one of them? A monster? I refused. I wasn't like them. I didn't believe this person was human, but it was alive.
I grabbed the edge of the blanket, tore it free with ease—another testament to how much my stats had grown. With forceful hands, I wrapped it around the faceless thing's head, smothering its screams. And it worked. It grew quiet.
I turned back to the television. That damn static. I reached out to turn it off—but something was wrong. There was no plug. No cable. No power cord. It shouldn't be working.
Yet, it was on.
And then—suddenly—it wasn't.
The screen shifted to pure black. The silence it brought should have calmed me, offered me some serenity. But instead, it made everything worse.
Because then, I saw it.
In the glass, a figure began to take shape—a black silhouette like the shadow of a man, but twisted. Its fingers were long, like blades. And worst of all... it had eyes. Eyes that were staring right at me.
The figure began to move.
It stretched. Warped. Twisted its long arms around the screen and tried to break through the screen. The glass shook violently, trembling under the force. It wanted out.
[Why are you here] [Get Out] [You're never welcomed] [Die] [Die][Disappear] [Human boy...] [Depart from this world, you human][You're an intruder] [This place is not for you] [Turn back] [You reek of life][Your presence is an insult] [You were not chosen][Abandon hope] [Let silence take you] [You tread where none should][Unworthy] [Defiler] [Outsider] [Scorned one] [Die again][Your soul is brittle] [This world rejects you] [You do not belong here][Vanish] [Flee] [Crumble] [Fall] [Sleep forever]
[This is your end] [Perish] [Be forgotten][They will not save you] [No light remains] [Sink into the void][Only echoes welcome you now] [You never had a place] [You are alone]
The intense screeching of the television, as the voices of crawling and the sounds of creatures of night sprawling, and sprinting... And its prey was here.
Adam can only look at it as his eyes was watching over the window now, or at the door constantly... This was horror, only if he wished that nothing of this was real and he would be at his own place, its truly a heartache....
[No matter where you are, I will be always in the depth of the sea of your consciousness...]
[When you wake up, youll checked under the bed, doors and windows checking if someone was there, thinking nothing is real, thinking that it cant harm you...]
[A comfort by an outsider, someone who cannot be harmed gazing over this words]
[BUT I WILL]
...
Silence followed.
Thick and pressing.
Adam coughed, throat raw from breathless terror. He was someone who chose action—even when afraid.
"Shut up," he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse. "I didn't even dream this world anyway…"
The moment those words left his lips, the screeching stopped.
Dead silence. Not a whisper, not a flutter, not even a heartbeat could be heard beyond the walls of his own body. The entire world seemed to hold its breath.
Then—the door creaked open.
Adam flinched, his eye twitched with reflexive stress, body tensing as he braced for the next horror. But... nothing. Only light. Daylight.
He stepped forward. The nightmare—whatever it had been—was gone. The bloodied houses, the playgrounds strewn with flesh... all of it had vanished as if erased from reality.
There were no houses now.
No streets.
No electric poles
No playground...Nothing
What greeted him instead was a blinding portal—brilliant, radiant, impossible to peer through. It hovered silently before him, humming with energy. Behind him, only a single tree stood in a field of nothingness.
Adam inhaled slowly.
Then stepped into the light.
—
He emerged into something alien, yet somehow familiar.
A massive maze—no, a city-sized hallway—extended before him, walls twisting and folding into themselves. Buildings grew from vertical surfaces, storefronts embedded in pillars, doorways protruding from ceilings. People wandered in all directions. Their eyes were colorful, their expressions carefree. Bartenders leaned on counters. Shoppers stepped in and out of shops that bent space around them.
Adam took a step.
And was immediately pulled into a tight embrace.
Minori.
"Ugh…" Minori grunted, hugging him tightly. "I'm glad I got to see you again. I was shocked—I couldn't feel your presence anymore. I thought you'd already made it out."
He pulled back, grinning from beneath his chin, eyes glancing away.
"But... I was planning something. That's why this place looked liminal—it's your third time entering the Timeout Room. I thought you'd finish the task. I wanted to give you a reward, but you came back too early... Did you send the letter?"
Adam looked down.
He didn't answer the question.
Instead, he asked quietly, "Did you ever create a green pasture? With houses and a playground?"
Minori blinked. Thoughtfully. "No... I didn't. If I could, I would've. But I can't leave the Timeout Room. I can only see what Manori gave me... Why?"
Adam stared at him for a long moment.
"Oh..." he said softly.
"…Nothing."