Pain was the first thing that greeted him.
It clung to his skull like a vice, sharp and pulsating, and for a long, agonizing moment, he didn't remember his own name.
The cold came next.
Unfamiliar. Vicious. The kind that gnawed into bone.
It wasn't a winter breeze, or the chill of a forgotten window left ajar (OF COURSE IT WANS'T IT WAS SUMMER BREAK???) —it was something deeper. Older. The kind of cold that didn't just touch your skin but wanted inside your lungs, your thoughts, your spine. He tried to move, but something beneath him scraped like stone. The surface was uneven, like he'd been thrown somewhere unkind.
His eyes opened, but the darkness didn't change.
…Where was he?
This wasn't home. Not even close.
He didn't smell ramen cups or spilled energy drinks. There was no laptop fan whirring, no humming, no bedhead pillow. Just the oppressive void, wrapping him like a cocoon of silence.
Then, in pieces, memory returned shards piercing through the haze.
…
A computer screen. A cursed game. A weird final update.
Ah. Right.
He'd been at his desk, fingers greasy from chips, clicking through the abyss of the internet. Then Abyssamal had updated. Final version. No fanfare, no marketing—just a terminally bugged patch for a terminally bugged game.
"Wasn't this game half-sued into extinction?" he'd muttered, more curious than cautious. "Whatever. Let's get it over with. I want those twenty bucks."
The boss fight was supposed to be impossible.
Instead, it ended in seconds. The enemy fell without resistance.
A screen appeared:
[CONGRATULATIONS ON FINISHING THE GAME, ABYSSAMAL. WE WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU FOR PLAYING THIS LONG. WE HOPE TO SEE YOU STILL SUPPORTING US!]
He blinked. Then blinked again.
"…No way."
Tears welled up. Not from joy. It was something weirder grief, maybe. Or the sudden, uncanny realization that he'd spent weeks grinding through digital torment for… this?
"I swear to God, when school starts, I'm suing someone. Personally."
That's when the light started.
Not from the monitor.
From behind him.
"…Wait—wait, hold on. When did my room start glowing like a fantasy funeral—?"
[HEY! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?]
A blue screen materialized in front of his face.
What the actual FU [ARE YOU OKAY?]
"Mentally? Absolutely not."
[UH THAT'S NICE AND ALL BUT, WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHANGE THE FATE OF THE GAME, ABYSSAMAL, AS THE CHARACTER 'KAI'?]
"...What. Hold on, what do mean that's nice and all?? …Uh anyway, I might do it."
[… ? OH! WAIT PRETEND COUGHS. ARE YOU WILLING TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS, HYUN BYEOL?]
He hesitated. For about three seconds.
Then he wiped his face, straightened his back, and muttered, "Sure. Whatever. But I better be back before third year starts. I am not failing calculus because of an interdimensional side quest."
[THEN, WE'LL MEET AGAIN. SOON.]
[GOOD LUCK.]
"What do mean soon?"
The floor fell out from under him.
"No—WAIT—!!"
Darkness.
CRACK.
Pain again. Sharp. Familiar, almost nostalgic.
His back hit solid ground with a slap that reverberated through his spine.
"…Did I just land ass-first into a freaking void?"
[HELLO.]
A voice. Systemic. Smug.
"…Who?"
[IT'S ME. THE SYSTEM. YOU CAN CALL ME 'A'.]
"…That's a stupid name."
[WOULD YOU RATHER 'ASILE'? IT SOUNDS MORE ANGELIC.]
"You do kind of suck for a guardian angel."
[I'M NOT A GUARDIAN ANYTHING. I'M HERE TO WATCH YOU.]
"…Huh. Figures."
A pause.
"…Hey, A?"
[YES?]
"…I have a bomb."
[WHAT.]
"…Oops."
[DON'T THROW IT—????]
He threw it.
CRASH
Silence.
"… So, let's make a deal now, right?"
[FINE. DEAL. DEAL. JUST NEVER DO THAT AGAIN.]
Few minutes later…
"…Cool. Send me in, chief."
[YOU'RE GOING TO SUFFER.]
"…Story of my life."
It started again in darkness.
But this time, it wasn't empty. He was in a basement. Or something like it. Too quiet. Too cold.
And then—
CRASH.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE MY SON UP!!"
A voice. Sharp. Angry. Female.
Kai opened one eye.
"…Lady, you better shut up before I use your roof as a landing mat."
He tried to move but couldn't. Everything hurt.
Footsteps.
Somewhere above, someone was talking.
Upstairs.
"Your Highness," a voice murmured, distant. "Last place to check is here."
"Then let's be quick," another voice replied calmer. Royal.
They moved to another front door and knocked.
"Good evening, miss," said the princess, politely. "Monthly house checks. It's the Emperor's order."
"Oh—of course! Please be quiet. My son is asleep."
"Of course, excuse us." he brought his voice to a whisper
"Yes, your highness!"
"…"
The other women's voice came next. "Koi, use your skill. The basement's locked."
"…There's a kid. Chained."
A pause.
The princess's tone darkened. "Get him out."
Back in the basement.
"Hey."
A voice again.
Soft. Gentle.
Kai tried to lift his head, but everything ached.
"Hurts…"
"Yeah. Don't talk. Just rest."
The voice was warm. Steady. A hand cradled his back as the world blurred around him.
"...Goodnight."
Back upstairs.
Your Highness, we got him."
"Good. But what took you so long, Koi?"
Koi looked like he was about to file a lawsuit against gravity itself.
"Those damn stairs," he growled, wiping dust off his sleeve. "Those freaking stairs don't just have small little holes in them they also had FREAKING GAPS; it's like the WANT to break someone's ankles."
Just a few minutes earlier… (from Koi's point of view)
'Ugh. Why is it always the basement?'
He stepped carefully, not because he was scared, but because it was dark. Really dark. Like "can't see your own fingers" dark. His boots tapped against the stone steps, every third one feeling slightly more cursed than the last.
Then—slip!
"OH—!"
He caught himself just in time, arms windmilling like a chaotic ballet.
'Seriously? Who the hell leaves this big of a hole in a staircase?'
He let out a long-suffering sigh.
'I should've brought a lantern. Or a torch. Or burned the whole house down instead.'
Muttering under his breath, he continued his awkward descent. One careful step at a time. One terrible decision away from needing knee surgery.
'Just grab the kid and go. In and out. Easy.'
Back upstairs, again.
"Mhm, that's nice and all," the woman drawled, arms crossed as she inspected him with one eyebrow raised, "but the boy is literally slipping out of your arms."
Koi glanced down. "Oh—dammit."
He adjusted his hold with the grace of a man juggling eggs.
"I'll work it out somehow. Good luck with handling that fat wh0re though!"
She smiled sweetly. "With pleasure. See you at the castle!"
And off he went—like all of this was just part of a regular Monday routine.
He awoke to warmth.
Sunlight slanting through high windows. The sheets were soft—too soft. The scent of herbal soap clung faintly to the air.
Knock.
"I'm coming in."
A boy entered. His outfit was crisp, formal—but his eyes were wary. He set down a tray and bowed slightly.
"You're awake. Welcome, Your Highness."
"…What."
"You've been adopted by the Emperor."
…WHAT.
"His sons refused the throne. You're the new heir."
Kai stared, wide-eyed.
"…I was unconscious! That's not how legal adoption works!"
The boy ignored him. "My name is Ali. Temporary butler. You'll be under Cyrus's care later."
"…How long was I out?"
"A month."
A pause.
A month?!
"You were missing both legs and an eye. But people came forward to donate. You've been healing."
"…I didn't agree to that either—?!"
"Oh right, sorry. We forgot to ask for consent."
"???"
"…Also. You don't have a name. Do you?"
"…Call me Kai."
"Kai it is!" Ali smiled brightly. "See you later, Your Highness!"
Ali quickly ran to the door and SLAM!
Kai sat in silence.
Then glanced at the silver tray.
His reflection stared back—soft, fluffy brown hair, darkening at the tips. A light gray left eye. A deep, reddish right. A mismatch, like two puzzles forced to fit. His clothes were frilled and ridiculous, all purple velvet, lace, and high collars.
"…This looks expensive," he muttered. "I look like a Victorian teacup…"
He lay back against the pillows with a sigh.
"…Why did I play such a game?"