The boy was only six.
He lived alone with his mother — the only light that kept the world from devouring him whole.
To him, her smile was the very shape of the sun.
Her voice, the only thing that proved he was still alive.
But one afternoon, by the strangest coincidence, he found a book.
Its cover was aged, the letters half-erased by time.
He couldn't read its title clearly, but the words "The Theatre of the Yellow King" shimmered faintly under the dust.
Curiosity defeated fear.
He opened it.
---
The boy read until the very last line.
Then, suddenly—
the air around him bent like a reflection in disturbed water.
He blinked.
And when he opened his eyes, the world had turned white.
A vast, colorless room stretched endlessly around him.
Dozens of children stood scattered across the floor, silent, unmoving.
Their eyes were empty, like masks that had forgotten the faces beneath them.
He didn't know it yet…
but he had been pulled into the realm of the Yellow King.
---
Perplexed and terrified, he ran.
He didn't care where.
The only thought that haunted him was one word, one presence, one voice.
> "Mother…"
He screamed it.
He cried it.
But no answer came — only the echo of his own voice fading into the pale distance.
---
He collapsed on the white floor, trembling.
Time seemed to move slower here, as if every second hesitated to exist.
And then… something moved nearby.
A shadow approached him — small, human-shaped.
It knelt down, and a soft voice spoke:
> "Eat. Don't let madness consume you. If you're afraid, lean on me.
I'll always be here for you, little brother."
The boy hesitated, then reached out his hand.
The shadow became clearer.
It was indeed another child — a boy, maybe ten years old, with gentle but unsettling eyes.
---
The boy sat down beside him.
His tone was calm, too calm.
> "Don't be afraid. At least not yet.
We are inside the kingdom of the Yellow King.
More precisely, this is the Pseudo-Theatre — a space that gathers those who have wandered into His realm by chance.
Everyone who enters receives a 'gift'.
Some call it a blessing… but it's really a curse.
The gift of madness."
---
The little boy's eyes widened.
His breath quickened.
His mind repeated only one thing —
> "I can't stay here… I can't… My mother… I must find her!"
He ran.
He ran until his lungs burned, until his throat was raw, until his legs trembled.
The whispers followed him.
Every word he'd ever said, every fear he'd ever felt, echoed endlessly behind him.
After a while, exhausted, he realized —
he had come back to the same place.
The same floor.
The same boy.
> "Escaping willingly is impossible," the boy said.
"Stay with me. You won't go mad in my company."
---
The child shook his head violently.
His mind fractured between fear and despair.
The boy's voice came again — softer this time, but colder.
> "You won't find anything out there. It's dangerous. The King must not find you. Stay with me and you'll be safe."
> "My… mother?" the younger boy whispered.
The boy smiled faintly.
> "Ah, so that's what this is about. Your mother.
I'm sorry to disappoint you, but… you'll never see her again.
Here, in this world, you don't exist anymore.
Your friends, your family — they've all forgotten you.
You're nothing now."
His lips twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
---
The younger boy began to tremble.
Something broke inside him.
> "No… no, I don't want this…"
He wrapped his hands around his own throat.
> "I don't want this! I'd rather die!"
> "Why are you doing this?!" the older child screamed.
"I gave you my affection! I offered you to be my little brother!
Don't you want to stay with me?!"
The boy's vision blurred.
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen — or maybe the world itself fading.
Through the haze, he saw the older child's face more clearly.
Not a boy.
A girl.
Her eyes glowed faintly yellow.
> "So you wish to leave?" she whispered.
"Very well. You'll find nothing beyond here… nothing but desolation… and madness."
The boy's body went limp.
Then, darkness.
---
End of Chapter 1 — The Curtain of Madness