Darkness.
No, that wasn't quite right. This wasn't darkness. If he had to explain it, it was like trying to see out of his elbow. He remembered hearing that phrase before - someone had once described blindness that way.
Not blackness, but simply... nothing. The absence of sight entirely.
Now he finally understood what they meant.
Wait. That wasn't important right now.
Where was he? What had happened? The rooftop. The collapse. Falling.
Soo-yeon.
What had happened to her? Was she okay?
His mind raced through the details.
The distance from the rooftop to the ground - four, maybe five stories. Not enough height to reach terminal velocity. The way they had been positioned when the floor gave out, she had been above him. If she fell directly onto his body, the impact would have been cushioned.
His body would have absorbed a significant portion of the force before she hit the ground.
In other words, she had a chance.
Damn it.
If only reality was that simple. Considering all other factors…
Wait.
There was something else. Before he hit the ground, he remembered seeing something. A golden light. Some kind of symbol had appeared behind her - extremely intricate and complex, and glowing, like one of those magic circles from fantasy novels.
And then she had vanished.
Just... gone.
He tried to recall the details, but the memory was hazy. Had he really seen that? Or was his brain inventing things? Filling in gaps because the reality of the situation was too…
No. Stop.
He was getting too worked up. Spiraling wouldn't help anyone.
He forced himself to calm down. Breathe. Think.
...
Actually, was he breathing?
He couldn't tell.
After some time, once his thoughts had settled, he finally turned his attention to his own situation.
The fact that he was conscious meant he had survived. Or at the very least, he wasn't dead yet. If that was the case, then maybe she had survived too. For now, he needed to figure out what was happening to him. He could worry about her later.
First, his eyes.
He couldn't feel them. It wasn't that they were closed; it was like they didn't exist at all. He tried to open them, but nothing happened. There was no sensation of eyelids, no muscles responding to his commands.
Then there were his limbs.
He couldn't feel those either. No arms. No legs. Nothing.
Was he paralyzed?
That wasn't far-fetched. He had fallen on his back. His spine could have been damaged on impact. That would explain why he couldn't move his limbs. And if the injury was severe enough, maybe it affected his facial muscles too - explaining why he couldn't open his eyes.
But if that was the case...
Wasn't he essentially trapped in his own body?
Would he be like this forever? Conscious but unable to move, unable to see, unable to do anything except think?
Panic began to creep in. His thoughts spiraled faster. Trapped. Helpless. Alone in the dark with nothing but…
Stop. Calm down.
He forced the panic back down. Panicking wouldn't change anything. He needed information. He needed to understand his situation before he could do anything about it.
Calm. Stay calm.
Once his mind had steadied again, he resumed his assessment.
He concentrated, trying to sense any part of his body. Anything at all.
Nothing.
He concentrated harder.
Still nothing.
He kept at it - focusing, straining, searching for even the faintest sensation.
And then, finally, something.
But it was... strange.
He couldn't quite understand what he was feeling. It wasn't his limbs. It wasn't anything familiar. While he couldn't sense arms or legs or a torso, after concentrating hard enough, he could eventually sense something.
It was the sensation of a body, but also completely different.
There were no distinct parts. No separation between sections. It was just... mass. A single, continuous form. Soft. Malleable. Like a water balloon filled with something thicker than water. He could feel the outer surface and the interior all at once, as if every part of himself was both skin and organ simultaneously.
What had happened to him?
And strangely, once he had sensed it the first time, the sensation began to amplify rapidly.
Before, he had to struggle and concentrate just to feel anything. But within seconds, it had become almost second nature - just like how one would normally feel their own body without thinking about it.
Now he was feeling everything.
There was something beneath him. Some kind of surface his body was resting on. The texture was fibrous, slightly rough, with thin ridges running across it.
A leaf?
His body seemed to be flexing around the object, conforming to its shape so precisely that every detail was ingrained in his senses. He could make out the veins of the leaf, the slight curl at its edges, the tiny imperfections on its surface.
Had the human body always been this sensitive?
Maybe it was because he couldn't use his eyes. Perhaps his sense of touch had been amplified to compensate.
But that raised another question.
How big was this leaf for his entire body to wrap around it?
There was also... the other issue. The one he didn't want to think about. Because if this leaf was a normal size, then that meant…
No. He wasn't ready to consider that yet.
After all, how could a human body fit in such a small area and still maintain full cognitive ability? It didn't make sense.
But as time went on, he became less and less confident in that reasoning.
He needed to move. If he could move, he could gather more information about his surroundings through touch.
Now that he could sense his body, he felt like movement should be possible. He didn't need legs if he could feel his form directly. He just had to roll. Shift his weight. Tip himself over.
Simple, right?
He focused on rolling his body to the side.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. And again.