It wasn't thirst that woke him up that pitch-black night, nor the dryness in his throat, nor the sudden dizziness that struck him, but the relentless storm of thoughts that gnawed at him for hours.
Thoughts that circled endlessly, refusing to die, like an insect trapped in a jar, beating its wings against the glass, buzzing and scraping, filling the room with an irritating hum.
Strange… for despite all the chaos inside your head, you're someone who can't even make a simple decision—like what kind of coffee to drink, or whether to open the window and let the cold air remind you that you still exist.
At times, everything around you feels unreal,
your own breath begins to strangle you, the clock ticks louder than your pulse, and perhaps you start hearing things that aren't really there.
You keep telling yourself it's nothing—yet deep down, you know that "nothing" could also have a meaning.
And tonight, it's getting closer.
Here, you will live and breathe within a world crafted by someone else.
Everyone exists to serve a purpose—and once that purpose is fulfilled, their role ends.
You will search for the beginning of everything, and ask countless questions,
but in the end…
you will never know the whole truth.
No matter how many times you start over, you will always return to the same point.
No matter how places or beginnings change,
everything will pull you back toward the same fate.
So what if you saw something that opened a door…one that could never be closed again? Would you enter, knowing that the moment you do, you'll never truly wake up again, because some dreams don't end when you open your eyes?
___
The tap was running as he cupped his hands under the water, washing his face. Above the sink, he caught his reflection in the mirror—revealing pale skin, faint grey eyes, and white hair, despite his otherwise youthful appearance.
A few seconds later, the sound of running water from the bathroom suddenly stopped.
Sian, who lived alone, saw the shadow of someone standing in the middle of his living room. The room was cloaked in darkness, making it hard to see clearly.The only light came from the moon, slipping silently through the window, casting a pale glow across the space.
He stared at the figure, confused. Standing there was a motionless figure draped in a crimson cloak, its hood pulled low over its head, concealing every trace of its identity as it kept its back turned to him.
"You… how did you get in?" he asked, still dazed.
But then—he noticed something.
He was no longer in his apartment, and a wave of shock and confusion washed over him.
The world around him had shifted—quietly, almost tenderly—without him realizing it.
His eyes darted around the room, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings.
The walls were covered in dark, carved wooden panels, their surfaces etched with fine, intricate patterns.
Paintings of people sketched by hand lined the walls—their faces unfinished, as if a hand had begun to draw them, then swept across them in a single motion, leaving only faint streaks where features should have been.
Ornately carved sofas with floral patterns stood near the walls, their rich fabric contrasting with the dark wood of the room.
Long red curtains brushed the floor, and a massive rug stretched beneath his feet, leading toward a large marble fireplace at the far end of the room. Before it stood the same cloaked figure.
Above the fireplace, mounted on the wall, hung a large portrait: a blonde woman in a flowing white dress, sitting on a chair with a baby in her arms. A soft smile touched her serene face. Behind her stood a faceless man in a formal black suit.
The silence was thick.
Crackling flames danced in the hearth, casting a golden hue across the room.
Her finger pointed toward a cradle in the corner of the room, as a baby's cry echoed softly.
He followed her finger and approached the cradle. He reached down, slowly pulling the blanket back to reveal the child's face—
A grotesque creature.
Demonic. Deformed.
a violent surge of panic struck him, and he felt his heartbeat begin to race uncontrollably as he staggered back in horror.
But before he could react, the woman appeared behind him in a flash, striking him with a powerful blow to the abdomen. The impact sent him flying through the air. His body split into fading echoes as he was flung out of the room.
As he hurtled backward, suspended for a heartbeat in midair, his gaze caught a sudden, jarring sight—
the room was burning. Flames devoured the curtains, the fallen portraits—everything they touched. The fire crawled along the walls, consuming the wooden frame, its orange glow tearing through the darkness.
It burned everything as fire consumes everything it touches—leaving only ash where memories once stood, turning anger into sparks that danced in the air, darkening the room and blinding the eyes. Guilt stabbed at the heart like a dagger, and a demon stood there—without horns. Smoke billowed upward, twisting like a shadow brought to life. And then—everything was gone.
The hands of the clock were slowly approaching midnight, its steady ticking echoing softly through the silent room. Standing by the window, he gazed at the sky, a vast sea of black illuminated only by the pale glow of the moon. The dream still lingered in his mind, refusing to let him rest.