He sits in his dark room, the only light coming from the glow of the screen displaying an intimate scene on an adult website. The air is thick with the faint scent of sweat, and the moans from the speakers fill the empty silence of the dull night.
His fingers move instinctively, his eyes locked onto the screen with unwavering focus, his mind completely immersed in the scene before him. His breathing grows heavier as the events escalate, until he reaches the inevitable conclusion. A short sigh, a sense of relief, then emptiness… the deep emptiness that follows every time.
Almost unconsciously, he reaches for the tissues beside him, quickly wiping away the mess he left behind, as if trying to erase the traces of a moment of weakness. He tosses the tissues into the trash, then looks at the screen, where the frozen image of a scene that no longer holds any meaning for him remains. With a single click, everything disappears.
He rushes to close the tabs, making sure nothing is left open, then leans back in his chair for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if trying to reset himself. After a few seconds, he pushes the chair back and stands up, his body exhausted, but he knows what he must do. He heads toward the bathroom, passing by a mirror that reflects his tired features.
He turns on the faucet, letting the cold water run between his hands before splashing some onto his face. Then, he steps into the shower. As the first touch of hot water hits his skin, his body relaxes, but he can't escape his thoughts.
Why does it always feel so empty afterward? Is this just a habit? Or something else?
As he closes his eyes under the steady stream of water, he doesn't realize that something else is watching him, waiting for the right moment to appear…
He stepped out of the shower, droplets of water still trickling down his body, breathing deeply as he reached for the towel hanging on the wall. He wiped his face first, then ran the warm fabric through his damp hair. Everything seemed normal… for now.
He lifted his right foot to step out of the shower, but in a fraction of a second, everything changed.
His foot didn't find balance; instead, it slipped on the wet tiles with terrifying speed. He felt gravity pulling him down forcefully, and before he could even react, his head collided with the hard floor.
A muffled thud, then absolute silence.
His eyes, which had been wide open for a moment, began to slowly close. A sharp ringing filled his ears, his heartbeat pounding wildly, but his body was starting to lose sensation. He tried to move his fingers, but there was no response…
His vision blurred, the dim bathroom lights turning into black spots dancing before him. But there was one thing he could still see clearly… something that hadn't been there moments ago.
His blood.
A crimson liquid spreading slowly around his head, seeping into the cracks of the cold tiles, as darkness consumed his consciousness completely.
Then… nothing.
His awareness returned slowly, but he was no longer in his bathroom, nor in any place he recognized. The air around him was heavy, fog filled the space so thickly that he could barely see his hands in front of him.
He was completely naked, yet the air wasn't cold or warm—just empty, as if the place itself did not follow the laws of nature.
He tried to stand, but the ground beneath his feet was neither solid nor soft, as if made of a material that didn't exist in his previous world. He tried to focus, but everything felt hazy, as if a part of his mind hadn't fully awakened yet.
Then…
Footsteps.
Their sound was not normal; it didn't resemble anything he had ever heard before. It wasn't like hooves, nor human feet, nor crawling limbs. The rhythm was irregular, as if the being approaching him did not belong to any familiar logic.
He tried to peer through the fog, and for a moment, his vision cleared—only for the horror to intensify.
Something… was moving.
It wasn't human. It wasn't an animal. And it wasn't even a monster like those from fantasy tales. It was more like something… incomplete.
The closer it got, the more distorted its shape became, as if his eyes couldn't fully comprehend it. It moved slowly, but a strange sensation swept over his body—a mix of dread and disbelief.
This thing… wasn't from this world. And it wasn't from the other world either. It was something… entirely different.
The voice was unlike anything he had ever heard before. It wasn't human. It wasn't even a sound heard by the ears—it resonated directly within his skull, as if his very thoughts were speaking to him.
"Zack Murky… it seems your life has been filled with boredom and exhaustion… meaningless, isn't that right?"
A chill ran through his body—not from the cold, but from the way that thing pronounced his name. There was no mistake, no hesitation, as if it had known him since the beginning of time.
"No job… no lover… no life… nothing… you were nothing but a burden to your family."
The words felt like an attack on his mind, stripping his soul of any defenses, digging into his deepest, most humiliating fears. He tried to speak, to scream, but his mouth wouldn't move. He didn't need to—the thing was speaking directly into his head, and he could hear it perfectly.
"But…"
The voice paused for a moment, as if savoring his torment through the sudden silence, before continuing slowly:
"Why don't I give you a second chance?"
Those last words weren't just a suggestion. They weren't a passing thought.
They felt like a decree… like a promise… or perhaps like a curse.
Zack didn't know how, but he felt that his life was about to change forever.
"Alright, I will send you to the DC Universe."
The voice echoed in Zack's mind like an endless reverberation in the void. A shiver ran through his naked body, and it wasn't because of the atmosphere—it was because of the words themselves…
"There, you will be my hand. You will carry out my commands exactly as I say, without question."
Zack wasn't sure what he was hearing, but something deep inside him told him this wasn't a choice.
"And if you disobey me… there will be consequences."
With those words, an unbearable pressure crushed his skull, as if his head was about to shatter from the inside. He collapsed onto his knees, clutching his head, but the pain was internal—untouchable, unstoppable.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
"And if you defy my orders too often… I will kill you. Without a doubt."
The final sentence was cold, devoid of any false threats. This wasn't a being negotiating. It wasn't trying to convince him.
It was dictating an inescapable reality.
Zack, who had barely processed the fact that he had died in his world, now found himself in a situation beyond belief… yet undeniably real.
"So…"
The words stopped, but the presence of that thing did not.
"Let's begin our little game, Zack Murky."
And suddenly, everything collapsed around him—the fog, the ground, existence itself—as if it had all been just a dream. Or rather, the beginning of a nightmare he had no choice but to enter.
Zack gasped sharply, as if surfacing from the depths of water after nearly drowning.
He was lying on a cold, partially damp surface, reeking of mold and garbage. His eyes fluttered open, vision blurry for a moment before clearing—only to find himself in a dark alley, surrounded by crumbling buildings and graffiti-covered walls.
The night was pitch black, and the place felt strangely familiar… but he couldn't focus on the details, because something else immediately grabbed his attention.
A blue screen appeared in front of his eyes, hovering in midair.
[Welcome, Zack Murky.]
The letters glowed unnaturally bright, but they weren't just visible words—they echoed directly into his mind, as if something else was speaking to him.
Then, without warning, a new voice appeared in his head—completely different from the entity that had spoken to him in that foggy void.
It carried a hint of sarcasm, but with a mechanical tone, as if this was nothing new to it.
"Ah, so here we are… You're finally awake, you lazy bum."
Zack flinched, his whole body tensing. He tried to get up quickly, but a sudden dizziness made him stagger.
"Don't rush. Your body is still adjusting to the change. Oh… by the way, welcome to Gotham City. Yes, Gotham. The city crawling with lunatics, murderers, and deranged clowns. Doesn't that sound exciting?"
Zack swallowed hard, glancing around again, but nothing felt normal.
This wasn't a dream. It wasn't a hallucination.
This was… real.
Then, another screen appeared before him, filled with information.
["Zack Murky's Advanced System" Activated]
[Analyzing Status…]
[Adapting to the New World: 72%...]
Zack didn't need to read any further to realize one thing:
This wasn't just a second chance… This was the beginning of a journey he could never return from.
He was still trying to process everything when the system interrupted him with a sarcastic, energetic voice:
"Ooooh, are you shivering from the cold, hero? You look like a lost child in the middle of Gotham… and that's because you literally are! But don't worry, your generous god has sent you a starter gift! What a kind being, isn't he?"
A new blue screen appeared in front of him, displaying:
[Starter Gift]
Track Pants (Rarity: Common)
Sports Jacket (Rarity: Common)
Beretta 92FS Handgun (Rarity: Common)
Combat Knife (Rarity: Common)
Running Shoes (Rarity: Common)
Baseball Cap (Rarity: Common)
"Yaaay, everyone loves gacha, right? But sorry, no laser guns or super armor… just the essentials for a newbie in this hellhole called Gotham!"
Suddenly, blue lights flickered in front of him, materializing into the listed items, now lying on the ground beside him.
Zack stared at the gun, then the knife, then the clothes. For a moment, it all felt like some weird dream… but the cold air against his bare skin reminded him that he needed to get dressed now.
"No need to thank me, just put on the clothes before someone sees you and thinks you're a fresh new hobo in need of a survival lesson!"
Zack didn't argue. He quickly put on the track pants, then the jacket, before slipping the cap onto his head. He grabbed the knife and tucked it into his jacket pocket, then picked up the handgun, feeling its weight in his hand… It was very real.
Taking a deep breath, he looked around at the filthy alleys before whispering to himself:
"This is insane… but I'm here now. And I have no choice but to survive."
The system chuckled in his mind:
"Aaaah, I love that enthusiasm! Alright then, let's go, unknown hero! Gotham is waiting for you!"