Lucas' kitchen knife, once a reliable tool, had never failed him. Until now.
The first time it broke was mid-swing.
Young Lucas ducked instinctively, narrowly escaping what could have been a fatal blow. The blade, chipped and dulled by impact, skidded off his shoulder, drawing a jagged gash and clattering to the ground.
Young Lucas collapsed, eyes wide in shock, his small frame trembling. He looked up at his older self—at Lucas—his face etched with confusion, fear... and deep resentment.
"Who are you?!"
Lucas didn't answer. His expression was grim.
He pounced, covering Young Lucas' mouth with one hand and pinning him to the floor with the weight of his body.
"That's a question," he said in a whisper, "you are the least qualified to ask."
...
On the live broadcast screen, viewers watched in frozen horror.
Young Lucas' shoulder was obscured with a thick mosaic, a digital censorship filter applied to conceal the wound. The severed remains of the shattered knife lay scattered, also pixelated for decency. But nothing could hide the intensity in Lucas' eyes.
Young Lucas blinked. And then, shockingly, he smiled.
The smile twisted into something dark, giddy, and almost thrilled.
"What the hell! That grin… it's so familiar! Doesn't the young version of Lucas also have that berserk mode?!"
"Did the system recreate every detail so accurately? Are we looking at a full replication of Lucas himself?"
...
[ Danger assessment recalculated based on current host power level... ]
[ Target: Young Lucas from Angel Orphanage. Threat level: Approaching advanced danger. ]
Lucas' eyes narrowed. He tightened his grip until Young Lucas' face distorted under the pressure.
His voice dropped to a near-whisper, icy and precise.
"I can't let you develop any further."
The knife rose. And fell.
Over and over.
The danger level tracker pulsed in red.
[ Target: Young Lucas from Angel Orphanage. Threat level: Critical... ]
...
The chat exploded.
Thousands of viewers leaned in as the live feed captured Lucas stabbing his younger counterpart again and again.
The kitchen knife blurred into motion. Each swing met its mark. The pixelation shielded the worst of it, but everyone could see the small figure thrashing, then gradually falling still.
"Jesus... he's really doing it."
"That's him. That's Lucas for you. Who else would stab a replica of himself without hesitation?!"
"Did the system really think we wouldn't question this scene?!"
"The scariest part is how calm he is."
Lucas finally stopped. He stood, chest heaving.
"After dealing with my childhood self, the dungeon's danger level should drop considerably," he muttered.
His voice echoed through the live stream, carried across hundreds of thousands of devices.
[ Recalculating threat level... ]
[ Corpse of Young Lucas in Angel Orphanage: No Danger. ]
[ Player Lucas has triggered the hidden storyline of "The Orphanage". Exploration progress: 30%. ]
[ Note: What you see may not be everything. ]
...
"WTF?!"
"He really went through with it..."
"System, stop hiding behind mosaics! This is the most intense content ever, and it's all censored!"
"I thought he'd pause, hesitate. But no, he just hacked away like it was a chore."
"But he said it—it was for safety."
"Yeah, if that was a perfect copy of Lucas with all the potential, it could've ended the entire dungeon."
"Still... killing a version of yourself? That's psychological horror at its peak."
The live stream's popularity skyrocketed.
[ Viewership count: 213,649. Gifts sent: 145,623. Current popularity rank: 3rd among Supernova players. ]
...
Lucas remained composed.
His internal thoughts were colder than expected.
"It was just a glitchy clone. A disgusting recreation by the system."
He walked to the door and pushed it open, the hinges creaking.
Light spilled from behind the frame, illuminating a familiar interior.
"High-level threats like that aren't obstacles. They're ambushes. I had to end it before he adapted further."
He closed the door behind him. Now alone in a room with the corpse of his younger self, Lucas felt—oddly—relief.
The room layout was exactly as he remembered.
It was a recreation of his dorm from the Sunshine Orphanage.
The only change? A single bed, instead of the usual four.
Everything else was identical.
"Why would the system go this far...?"
Lucas scanned the space, eyes tracing every detail. Nothing was out of place.
He stepped toward the bed where Young Lucas had been sleeping, crouched beside it, and looked beneath.
Just as he expected: a diary tucked under the board.
He retrieved the small, worn journal and cast one last glance at the body.
"Even the hiding spots... exactly the same. Good thing he didn't realize it before dying."
Lucas sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and flipped open the diary.
On the first page, in crooked letters:
"Record of Happy Days at Angel Orphanage."
His eyes lingered on the words. A flash of something—nostalgia, perhaps? Anger?
He couldn't say.
He kept reading.
...
Meanwhile, the audience remained stunned.
"He knew the hiding spot... That means this isn't just a visual replica."
"It copied the psyche. The thoughts. The memory habits."
"Lucas is too calm. That scares me more than the stabbing."
"This game isn't just a horror sim. It's dissecting people."
The young author of the stream, now highly cautious due to repeated censorship blocks, dropped a message.
[ "Thank you for watching! Please vote and support the content! (P.S. Yes, the mosaics were necessary!)" ]
...
To be continued.
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