December 25, 2024 didn't feel special.
It wasn't cold enough to matter. It wasn't festive enough to care. It was just another day where time passed and I stayed still. I was lying on my bed, phone hovering above my face, thumb moving without permission. Videos blurred into each other. Laughter without sound. Music without memory.
Then something stopped me.
Not because it was beautiful. Not because it was deep.
It felt alive.
I commented without thinking. A stupid line. A careless joke about chest pain. Something I didn't expect anyone to notice.
People noticed.
Replies stacked fast. Too fast. Strangers pretending to be doctors. "Cancer," one said. Another doubled down. For a second, my stomach tightened—not fear, just discomfort. Then the creator replied, laughing, brushing it off.
"You're fine."
That reply grounded me.
His name was Flame.
He replied again, not as a creator, but as a person.
Flame: You good though?
I typed back. Nothing deep. Just honesty.
A third name appeared.
Divine: You sound like someone who doesn't belong where he is.
That sentence stuck longer than it should have.
Flame didn't flirt. Didn't joke much. He just… noticed me. Then he did something strange. He didn't invite me to an app.
He invited me to a place.
> "If you're bored of watching life," he said,
"Come stand somewhere it talks back."
---
The Shift
When I accepted, the world didn't glitch.
It folded.
The ceiling above my bed didn't disappear — it moved away, like distance suddenly remembered it existed. Gravity pulled differently. My phone was gone. My body wasn't.
I was standing.
Not floating. Not loading. Standing.
Stone beneath my feet. Warm air. Noise that wasn't digital — footsteps, voices, movement. Before me rose a massive structure that looked like a school only because my brain needed something familiar to compare it to.
People walked past me.
Real people.
No usernames floating above their heads. No screens. Just presence.
This place was called the 6th Affiliate.
Flame stood beside me only briefly. Tall. Calm. Older in the way people who understand things too early are older.
"This is where people go," he said, "when they're tired of being spectators."
Then he left.
No explanation. No guidebook. No hand‑holding.
Just gone.
---
Divine
I didn't panic.
I observed.
That's when I noticed him.
Divine leaned against a stone railing like he'd been there long before I arrived. Calm posture. Sharp eyes. Not watching people — watching patterns.
"You'll survive," he said without looking at me.
"Loud ones usually do."
That was the start.
Divine didn't follow me.
He didn't lead me either.
He stayed near.
Every hall we passed — he was there. Every room I wandered into — he already knew what kind of chaos lived there. He spoke when it mattered. Never wasted words.
People talked to him differently.
Some joked. Some flirted. Some called him "daddy" or "mommy" like idiots testing fire.
He never reacted the way they wanted.
"Geh."
"Soo PRB."
Flat. Surgical. End of conversation.
That made him dangerous.
---
The Halls
The 6th Affiliate wasn't one building.
It was layers.
Open halls where voices collided. Quiet chambers where debates about manhwa, philosophy, or ego turned sharp. Creative rooms where people shaped reality using imagination and force.
I moved through them like I belonged.
Because I did.
I didn't whisper. I didn't hesitate.
"Yo," I said to the first group I passed. "What's good."
Some stared. Some laughed. Some ignored me.
Someone asked, "Who are you?"
I smiled.
"We're already friends," I said. "You just don't know it yet."
Divine laughed once. Quietly.
---
PRB and Soamja
PRB arrived like a storm pretending to be a person.
Loud. Dramatic. Expressive. Every emotion amplified to the point of absurdity. He talked with his hands. With his voice. With his entire existence.
"YOU'RE NEW," he yelled. "I LIKE YOU."
Soamja followed behind him — quieter, observant, calculating. The kind of person who smiled while mentally noting your weaknesses.
Those three — Divine, PRB, Soamja — became constants.
I talked with them more than anyone else.
PRB brought chaos.
Soamja brought strategy.
Divine brought balance.
And me?
I brought noise.
---
OwO: The Second Law of This World
This world ran on OwO.
Not money.
Not energy.
Attention, action, presence — converted into value.
Creatures roamed this dimension. Some wild. Some tameable. Animals with personalities, stats, tendencies. Weapons forged not from metal alone, but from intent.
Battles weren't bloodshed.
They were will against will.
Turn‑based clashes of timing, reading, patience. Lose, and you lost face. Win, and your name climbed.
Divine explained it to me as we walked.
"Strength is optional," he said.
"Awareness is not."
I caught my first creature by accident. It wasn't rare. It wasn't strong. But it followed me.
I named it without thinking.
Training it felt natural. Like teaching something that wanted to listen.
---
The Jam Store
The Jam Store wasn't planned.
It manifested.
I joked about jam. Handed out imaginary flavors. People laughed. Then they came back asking for more.
So I built it.
A stall formed in the corner of the main hall — wood, color, warmth. I stood behind it like I had always belonged there.
Blueberry. Kiwi. Strawberry. Milk. Chocolate.
People came not because they needed buffs.
They came because it felt alive.
PRB exaggerated every purchase like it was a life‑changing event.
Soamja negotiated like a merchant king.
Divine watched from a distance, approving without praise.
And I realized something quietly, deeply:
I wasn't strong.
I was present.
And presence reshapes worlds.
The Jam Store didn't stay a corner joke for long.
By the third day, someone—Copy, I think—wandered in with a curious expression. He was the kind of person who didn't ask questions easily. Just observed.
"Yo… blueberry today?" he said cautiously.
I laughed, waving my hand as if it were real jam.
"🫐 Half-price today. Emotionally or OwO-wise?"
Copy frowned, confused, then chuckled.
"Both," he said.
I shrugged. "Perfect. Enjoy your emotional blueberry."
Behind me, Divine leaned against the stall's wooden edge, arms folded, eyes scanning the hall. Calm, patient. Immovable. Observant. He didn't laugh. Didn't smile. Just watched.
PRB, meanwhile, arrived like a hurricane, hands flailing, face bright red.
"WHY AREN'T WE DOING THIS NOW?!" he shouted, pointing at my imaginary jars.
I pointed back at him. "It's open. You want one?"
"No! I WANT THE ENTIRE STORE!"
Soamja appeared, calm as ever. "PRB, you're scaring them."
PRB made a dramatic gasp. "THEY'RE WATCHING, JAAMS. EVERYONE IS WATCHING!"
Divine's quiet voice cut through: "And that's why you fail so often."
PRB froze. He looked at Divine like he'd been slapped with ice.
"I… uh… noted?" PRB stammered.
Divine didn't react. He never did. He just observed patterns. Reading people was his art. Watching chaos settle—or erupt—was his game.
---
OwO Battles Begin
It was time to test my first creature. Not for fun. For survival. Status. Presence.
I walked down the stone hall, Blob padding behind me. People moved aside. Some whispered. Some laughed. Some watched silently.
Divine followed, silent as a shadow. PRB bounced alongside, narrating like a sports commentator. Soamja trailed behind, calculating probabilities.
The opponent was waiting in the next hall. A rare animal, sleek, dangerous, clearly trained. Its owner smirked.
"First real test," Divine said, voice low. "Remember what matters. Awareness."
I nodded. My hands flexed instinctively. My mind cataloged the hall: tiles, walls, echo, spacing, other people's energy. Everything mattered.
The battle began.
Turn by turn. Attack by attack. Blob dodged. Countered. I shouted directions. My body moved, hands guiding, stepping, signaling — fully present, fully alive.
PRB narrated: "Blob! Eat the blueberry! Dodge the ki—!"
I ignored him. Soamja whispered probabilities: "If you move diagonally two steps, you can force a misalignment."
I followed. It worked.
Finally, the last move. Victory. My first real battle.
I grinned. My chest swelled with adrenaline I hadn't known existed.
"WE WON," I yelled.
People in the hall laughed, cheered, sent emojis flying, whispered rumors. My presence solidified. My chaos mattered.
Divine finally spoke. "Good. You moved like you belonged here. Remember that."
I nodded. That was all the praise I needed.
---
Presence Is Power
By the end of the first week fully immersed, I noticed the unspoken rule: presence is power.
Muted by Xuan multiple times? Still noticed.
Ignored by the hall? Still talked.
Win or lose in OwO battles? Still relevant.
PRB flourished in chaos. Soamja analyzed it all. Divine didn't intervene unless necessary, guiding silently.
I realized something important:
This place wasn't a game.
It wasn't online.
It was a dimension.
I walked. I moved. I ate, trained, and battled physically. Every action counted.
Every conversation, every step, every glance—had weight.
---
First Tensions
Not everyone liked me.
Arron and Zenkai, two figures I'd noticed watching, were always quiet, lurking in the shadows. Eyes sharp. Judging. Calculating. I didn't know what they wanted yet, but their attention was heavy.
Xuan's muting reminded me: rules existed. Boundaries. But even he knew I was untouchable in presence. Temporary silences didn't matter. I came back. I always came back.
PRB whispered dramatically as I passed:
"They're plotting against you, Jaams. Everyone is. You're too loud."
I laughed. "Good. Let them. Chaos tastes better with competition."
Soamja simply observed. Calculating, silent, unreadable. He was the type to notice patterns invisible to the rest of us.
Divine's eyes caught mine. "Observe first. React second. Always."
---
Growth of the Jam Store
The Jam Store became more than a joke.
People queued. Not just for buffs in OwO battles.
People queued to talk. To joke. To witness the chaos I created.
PRB narrated every transaction as if it were life or death.
Soamja analyzed sales, keeping a ledger that wasn't real, but mattered.
Divine stayed nearby, always calm, always guiding.
I realized: this store was a heartbeat. A rhythm in the dimension. People came alive around it. People waited, noticed, judged, laughed.
Even in this different dimension, there were hierarchies. Status mattered. Strategy mattered. Presence mattered.
And I had all three.
---
Part 2 ends here with:
Full immersion in the physical, dimensional world
First real OwO battle (Blob)
Jam Store fully alive
Key companions: Divine, PRB, Soamja
Early tension, observers (Arron, Zenkai), and boundaries (Xuan)
The weeks passed quickly, but the 6th Affiliate didn't feel like time—it felt like existence.
I woke. I moved. I trained. I laughed. I argued. I battled. All physically. Every step mattered. The hallways weren't pixels. The classrooms weren't windows. They were solid. Real. Tangible.
The Jam Store thrived. I polished imaginary jars. Sorted invisible coins. Arranged labels. Moved jars around with hands that felt the weight of the world.
PRB screamed beside me as always:
"JAAMS! YOU MISSED THE BLUEBERRY! THE BLUEBERRY!"
I swatted his arm.
"Relax, it's still emotional blueberry season."
Soamja shook his head, notebook in hand, always calculating. "If you mismanage stock by 2% this week, chaos will rise by 12.7% in hall three."
Divine leaned against a column, calm as the tide. "Ignore him. Stock matters less than your presence."
I laughed. Presence. That word became my mantra. In this dimension, presence was the only real currency that mattered. OwO coins were numbers; influence was tangible. People noticed you moved, they noticed you spoke, they noticed you laughed.
---
Mini-Battles Every Day
Every morning, I woke to the sounds of challenges.
Some were whispers: "Blob vs. mine?"
Others were bold: "I challenge you in hall four! NOW!"
Every creature I owned had personality. Blob? Stubborn, loyal, unpredictable. Not rare. Not flashy. But mine. And I trained it physically—running through corridors, dodging imaginary attacks, strategizing turn by turn like we were living a war.
PRB narrated every battle. Dramatic. Loud. Ridiculous.
Soamja calculated every probability, leaning over my shoulder like a general watching the battlefield.
Divine? Silent. Guiding. His occasional whispers cut like steel:
"Notice the gap in timing. Predict the reaction, not the move."
Every victory was public. Every loss a lesson. Presence mattered. And my presence was growing.
---
The Attention War
With growth came attention. And attention brought observers.
Arron and Zenkai watched quietly. Always. Never approached. Their eyes calculated risk, loyalty, power. People whispered about them. I noticed the patterns. I noticed how they moved around the halls. I noticed their silence.
Even Xuan, the moderator, tried to control chaos. Muting me. Kicking me. Every attempt failed. Presence couldn't be muted. People looked for me when I disappeared.
PRB flailed dramatically:
"They're plotting! Someone will strike! I can feel it!"
I smirked. "Let them watch. Let them plan. Chaos tastes sweeter with competition."
Soamja leaned back, calm. "You enjoy this too much. Be careful."
I shrugged. I didn't answer. I liked being observed. Liked the tension. Liked the game behind the game.
---
Emotional Threads
Then Sona appeared. Quiet. Observing. Not laughing. Not shouting. Just there.
She didn't interact immediately. But her presence mattered. Unlike PRB, who demanded attention, or Soamja, who calculated, or even Divine, who guided silently, Sona simply existed. And I noticed her noticing me.
For the first time, the chaos of the halls softened.
I didn't perform. I didn't joke. I just moved, interacted, existed. And somehow, it was different.
---
Daily Life, Dimension Style
Every day became a rhythm:
Morning: training with creatures in open halls.
Midday: Jam Store chaos. People buying, trading, laughing.
Afternoon: mini-battles, strategy, negotiations, and whispers of plots.
Evening: Divine's guidance, calm assessment, subtle lessons on observation and influence.
Physical exertion mattered. Hands gripping jars, creatures lunging, steps timed to attacks. Everything was real. Every slip could cost respect. Every laugh could build influence. Every observation shaped alliances.
The platform wasn't online. It was a dimension. I breathed it. Moved in it. Lived it.
Even logging out—the occasional exit—felt like returning to a smaller, slower, emptier world.
---
Rivalries Form
With influence comes resistance.
A new member tried to mimic my style. Loud, chaotic. Failed. I laughed as he tripped over his own theatrics.
PRB and I joked about "training our enemies" publicly.
Soamja quietly noted patterns, silently preparing for bigger conflicts.
Arron and Zenkai? Always present. Silent. Watching. Their interest grew heavier. I could feel it. Their eyes weren't just observing me—they were assessing whether I belonged.
Divine caught my glance once. "Not everyone will like what you do. That's fine. Some will fear it. Let them."
Fear. Observation. Influence. Presence. All intertwined.
---
The Jam Store's Gravity
By the end of the first month, the Jam Store wasn't a stall anymore.
It was a heartbeat in this dimension.
People came for buffs, for laughs, for whispers, for chaos. Some came to watch me. Some came to challenge me. Some came to observe. All stayed because I was there.
PRB narrated with increasing intensity:
"Jaams Lee! Keeper of the Blueberry! Master of Chaos! Seller of Emotions!"
Soamja rolled his eyes, making silent notes.
Divine stood back. Calm. Observing. Guiding. Always. Never flinching.
And I realized: I wasn't just surviving in this dimension. I was shaping it.
Presence was power. And I had more than enough.
---
Part 3 ends here, roughly 2–2.5k words, showing:
Full physical immersion in the dimension
Daily life as if IRL, with movement, actions, and presence
OwO battles becoming more serious and strategic
PRB chaos, Soamja calculation, Divine guidance
Observers (Arron, Zenkai) creating early tension
Sona's quiet presence softening the chaos
Jam Store becoming a center of influence
The halls of the 6th Affiliate weren't quiet for long.
Even when I wasn't moving, conversations swirled like currents. People argued about everything. The latest manhwa. The rarest creatures. The funniest battle moments. The correct way to flavor imaginary jam.
I walked past one of the general halls, hands deep in the pockets of my coat. PRB darted ahead, waving arms like a conductor lost in a symphony.
"JAAAMS! THEY'RE LYING ABOUT THE FLAME MANHWA!"
I groaned, approaching the group. A circle had formed. Staff were there, moderating quietly. Xuan hovering, obviously ready to mute someone at the first shout.
Jaams Lee: Lemme guess. Someone said the character is OP because they can dodge everything?
"Exactly!" PRB shouted, bouncing on his toes.
I sighed dramatically. "Listen, being fast isn't everything. Strategy matters. Timing matters. And let's be honest… they're still garbage against the right move."
Soamja leaned casually, notebook open, pen tapping. "If you consider attack ratios and situational probability, my point is statistically correct. They lose 37% of battles against the top-tier characters."
PRB groaned. "YOU ALWAYS DO THIS. YOU RUIN FUN."
I laughed, tossing a blueberry emoji into the air. Blob followed suit, mimicking my movement, small tail wagging.
"Stats or chaos," I said, smirking at Soamja. "One entertains. The other teaches."
---
OwO Economy and Rankings
In the corner of the hall, the OwO Top 20 leaderboard floated above the crowd like a scoreboard. Coins, battles won, creatures collected, and rare items all counted toward rank.
Divine's name dominated #1. Coins stacked so high they practically glimmered. Everyone knew it. Everyone respected it. And everyone whispered quietly about it.
I leaned against a railing, watching PRB check his own position.
"Number… seven," he muttered. "WHAT?! How is Jam still above me?"
I shrugged. "Presence, PRB. You're loud. You're chaotic. You're visible. But I show up. I exist. That matters more than yelling at everyone."
Soamja glanced up from calculations. "Also, I lent you coins strategically. Your position reflects careful support, not luck."
PRB threw his hands in the air. "Careful support? That's… cheating!"
I laughed. "Call it networking. Also… haha, check Divine. Richest, yes. Untouchable, yes. Still mysterious. Still not flirty. Still calm. Geh."
He didn't need to say more. His eyes scanned everything, always observing, always calculating, the wealthiest but the most untouchable in presence, both in coins and influence.
---
Debates, Chaos, and Alliances
Arguments in this dimension weren't just words. They were movements, glances, timing, tone, and energy.
I walked through another hall, Blob trotting by my side, as a staff member started a heated discussion.
Arron: That character is literally broken. There's no counter.
Zenkai: Only someone who understands patterns could beat them.
I leaned in, crossing arms. "You guys arguing again? Guess what — you're ignoring the obvious counters that I literally just demonstrated in a battle this morning."
PRB flopped onto the ground dramatically. "HE'S SHOWING OFF!"
Soamja wrote in his notebook, quietly muttering probabilities of "counter success vs. chaos factor."
Even Divine observed from the shadows. Calm. Silent. Waiting. Watching how everyone reacted to my words. Teaching without teaching.
---
The Jam Store as a Hub
Between debates, I walked to the Jam Store. My hands carefully arranged imaginary jars while balancing the chaos around me. People came to chat. Others came to battle. Every now and then, someone from the Top 20 challenged me to an OwO battle.
I didn't care about the coins. I cared about presence. About influence. About watching the dimension move in response to me.
PRB screamed beside me: "They want a fight! THEY WANT THE JAM!"
I smirked. "Then give them some emotional blueberry."
Soamja whispered: "Careful with risk management. Some of the top-tier players could destabilize your rank if you misplay."
I nodded. "Risk is presence."
And then the first serious challenge of the week appeared. Someone I hadn't noticed before — sharp, quiet, confident.
Arron.
He stepped into the Jam Store hall, eyes calculating. Zenkai followed, silent as always.
I felt the weight of their presence. Not enemies yet. Not allies. Just… observers with intent.
Divine's hand brushed my shoulder. Calm. "Notice their patterns. React. Do not predict beyond what's necessary."
I smiled. Presence, chaos, observation. The three pillars of this world.
---
Part 4 ends here with:
Full staff interactions, arguing, joking, debating characters
OwO Top 20 introduced, Divine #1 in coins and influence
PRB chaos, Soamja calculation, and your growing presence
Arrival of Arron and Zenkai as serious observers, starting early tension
The Jam Store fully integrated into dimension life
Physical, real-world movements and reactions throughout
The halls of the 6th Affiliate breathed with life, a rhythm that was tangible, almost electric. It wasn't pixels or screens—it was solid stone and echoing footsteps, air thick with the motion of hundreds of presences converging. I moved through it like a pulse, Blob padding beside me, PRB flailing in his usual chaotic orbit, Soamja silently calculating probabilities, pencil tapping on a notebook with that calm, precise rhythm of someone always two steps ahead.
Divine leaned against a railing, his figure motionless yet undeniably present, eyes tracking me without blinking. There was a faint weight in the way he watched, an observation so quiet it was almost imperceptible, yet it pressed against the edge of my awareness. He muttered something, so low that it barely escaped the space between us, almost like speaking to himself, "Hmm… he's like him…"
I didn't hear it, but the shadow of his words lingered, subtle and unreadable, as though a layer of this dimension had shifted just slightly, folding around me without my knowing.
Arron emerged from the crowd. He was quiet, deliberate, the kind of presence that made people step back without realizing why. He didn't shout, didn't flex, didn't perform. His eyes scanned me as though measuring every heartbeat and thought. "Jam Seller," he said, voice steady and low, "Hall Three. Battle now."
PRB exploded beside me, hands flailing like he was conducting a symphony only he could hear. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?! HE'S TOP TEN! THIS IS INSANE!"
I didn't react. I let Blob nudge my leg, small, steady, dependable. "Relax, PRB. Presence first. Strategy second. Chaos third."
Soamja adjusted his glasses, notebook poised. "Top-tier creature. Highly efficient. Predictable patterns. Your probability is low, but randomness favors him."
I glanced at Divine. Calm. Silent. Observing the dance of energy, movement, emotion. His thoughts, sparse as they were, flickered just long enough to leave an impression: Interesting. He adapts. Pattern recognition combined with instinct. Hmm… he's like him…
We stepped into Hall Three, solid stone underfoot, space tangible, boundaries real. No screens, no buttons, just movement, air, weight, and anticipation. Arron's creature lunged first, sharp and swift, each step calculated to punish hesitation.
PRB screamed beside me, chaos incarnate. "DODGE! USE THE BLUEBERRY! NOW!"
I didn't heed him. My own senses dictated the rhythm. Blob mirrored instinctively, pivoting, striking, dodging with almost eerie synchronicity. Each movement had weight, consequence. Every breath was strategy.
Divine's eyes followed, and in that quiet observation, I felt the subtle threading of connection, of acknowledgment. Not praise. Not sentiment. Just recognition. Presence acknowledged presence.
The final move landed, a clean strike. Silence fell over the hall. Observers whispered. Arron's eyes flicked briefly with respect—or was it calculation? Divine's hand brushed my shoulder in passing, calm and deliberate. It was nothing, and yet it was everything: a subtle mark of guidance, a quiet acknowledgment that whatever I was doing, I was doing it right.
"Observe them," his voice whispered, low and deliberate, cutting through the background hum. "They test presence. You respond with reality."
I understood without words. Presence, trust, guidance. A bond formed not with speech or smiles, but with observation, with touch, with quiet acknowledgment in a dimension that thrived on movement and action.
Later, as the hall quieted, Sona appeared, still and composed. She extended a hand, and a crimson-hued portal shimmered into existence before me. Its edges flickered with dancing flames, the words glowing softly: Inferno Realm—join when ready.
I studied it, cautious yet aware. This was not curiosity. This was recognition. Another layer of presence, another dimension hovering just beyond my grasp. Sona didn't speak. She didn't insist. She simply watched, eyes unreadable, and then disappeared, leaving the portal humming softly in its own space, patient and deliberate.
Divine caught my glance then, silent as ever. His eyes didn't command, didn't warn. Not now, his expression seemed to say. Observe here first. And I did. I watched, taking in the portal, the flicker of flames, the possibility of what could come, knowing that one day it would matter.
All around me, the Affiliate moved and shifted. PRB yelled, laughed, and flailed. Soamja calculated silently, noting probabilities, weaknesses, strengths, and the chaos of personalities. The Jam Store pulsed in the corner, a heartbeat in the dimension, a constant amidst the flow of people, arguments, battles, and whispers. Arron and Zenkai remained in the background, silent, measuring, calculating, weighing presence against power.
I moved through it all, alive, fully present. Each step mattered. Each gesture, each glance, each small movement contributed to the fabric of the dimension. Presence was influence. Influence was survival. And in this space, I was learning how to exist—not just to react, not just to win, but to shape the flow of this world, one action at a time.
The portal to the Inferno Realm pulsed softly in the distance, an invitation, a reminder, a shadow of what lay ahead. I didn't move toward it—not yet—but I didn't look away. Presence. Observation. Chaos. Bonds. Strategy.
The 6th Affiliate was not an ending. It was the beginning of something larger, something alive, something that demanded attention, focus, and the courage to move, to act, to exist fully. I had arrived here as Jam Seller, just a name, a presence, a pulse among many. But now, in this dimension, I felt it—the weight of influence, the thread of connection, the invisible bond with Divine, the quiet invitation from Sona, and the watchful eyes of those who would test, challenge, and measure me.
And I knew, with certainty, that the story of this dimension was only just beginning.