Flynn could sense the comforting touch of warm sunlight kissing his frail body in the realm beyond closed eyelids. He gathered the strength to slowly open his eyes and instantly greeted a strange and bewildering environment. Tubes and strings were carefully attached to his body, weaving a web of mysterious contraptions he had never experienced before, not even in his lengthy trips across faraway kingdoms. The sophistication and purpose of these machines left him both interested and wary, wondering who would go to such great efforts to conceal him in this unfamiliar land. Though the traitor, Erun, appeared a likely candidate, Flynn couldn't totally trust that he was the one directing this sophisticated ruse. Doubts lingered in his thoughts, magnified by his vulnerability in this crippled state.

 

A rush of questions bombarded Flynn's head, each more pressing than the last. What had transpired? How had he managed to survive? His last vivid recollection was the heated combat with the Goldenleaf soldiers, their swords clashing and chaos reigning supreme. But then Erun's deceptive plans overpowered him. He had witnessed his own defeat and felt his life force ebbing away. Yet, nevertheless, he had defied the odds and returned to consciousness.

 

Flynn's gaze went from the sterile confines of the room to a neighboring window, drawn to the sight of a peaceful blue sky and the soft sway of branches in the wind. The lovely chorus of chirping birds afforded a temporary respite, grounding him in the warm embrace of nature amid the uncertainty of his surroundings.

 

As his focus returned to the room, Flynn couldn't ignore the diverse collection of weird artifacts that scattered the surfaces. They were like artifacts from a realm beyond his comprehension, their purpose and origins buried in mystery. Some bore a similarity to familiar objects, although minor subtleties hinted at their otherworldly nature, catching Flynn's curiosity and leaving him craving answers.

 

In the corner of the room, an ordinary mirror stood against the wall, its simplicity in stark contrast to the cryptic nature of the surroundings. Flynn fixed his gaze on the mirror, fascinated by the reflection it held. To his shock, the image staring back at him was that of a young man with black hair and a frail visage. It sharply contrasted Flynn's appearance—a man with a more muscular build and distinctive features. The image left Flynn with a sense of confusion, raising concerns about his own identity in this strange environment.

 

A surge of memories rushed into Flynn's consciousness, mixing with his own thoughts and causing him tremendous pain. The memories were not his own, yet they felt eerily familiar, as if they were engraved on his very essence. They flooded through his brain, prompting tremendous emotions and compelling him to wrestle with their significance.

 

"What is happening? Who are you?" Flynn asked himself, his voice tinted with astonishment. But his inquiries were met with silence, compounding the puzzle of his presence. How could he be conscious after death? Why was he now inhabiting a body that bore no similarity to his own? Blending another person's memories with his own left him with a tremendous sense of separation and doubt.

 

The weight of these unanswerable questions took its toll on Flynn's weak physique. A pounding headache gradually worsened, driving him to the brink of endurance. As his surroundings blurred and faded into obscurity, he succumbed to overwhelming fatigue, once again sliding into a state of slumber.

-

Without warning, pitch-black darkness enveloped Flynn's surroundings, rendering him unable to make out anything, including his own body. Yet, oddly, he found comfort in this nothingness, as if the burden of his pounding headache and debilitated physique were simply distant memories.

 

The encompassing darkness overwhelmed Flynn's senses, leaving him disoriented and disconnected from his own body. However, a faint glow captured his gaze amidst the black void, luring him closer. He couldn't fathom its nature, but an unyielding intuition drove him to follow, guiding him through this region of nothingness.

 

With hesitant steps, Flynn ventured forth, his initial hesitance gradually morphing into steely determination. The instinct he had developed as an assassin propelled him forward, his actions unhindered by obstacles. Each passing moment brought the once-distant light closer, illuminating his path.

 

"Finally," he muttered, his anticipation reaching its climax. Deep within, Flynn understood that the answers he sought lay ahead. A blend of hope and anxiety spurred him onward. He immersed himself in the blinding glow with a deliberate stride, allowing it to wrap him fully.

 

The transformation was abrupt yet magnificent. A scene unfurled before Flynn's eyes, painted with exquisite snowflakes that danced through the air. His eyes traveled across the landscape, where massive structures pierced the sky, their intimidating rectangular forms dominating the horizon. Standing atop one of these gigantic structures, Flynn marveled at the magnitude of this weird new realm.

 

Bewilderment tinted his every thought as he absorbed the complexity of his surroundings. The towering monuments exuded an otherworldly air; their ethereal presence was a tribute to their majesty. Nature itself crafted a breathtaking ambiance as the snowflakes gently descended, enveloping the surroundings in an ethereal tapestry. It was a scenario that provoked curiosity, awe, and an undeniable feeling of being out of place, all combined into a singular experience.

 

Amidst this spectacular display, movement on an adjacent tower caught Flynn's eye. Against the backdrop of the snowy environment, a solitary individual stood erect, his attention fixed attentively on him. An unsettling familiarity came from the man, as if Flynn had glimpsed his face in a long-forgotten memory.

 

Flynn's intense curiosity propelled him towards the tower's edge, bridging the distance that separated him from the captivating figure. Gusts of wind rushed through the open expanse, swirling the snowflakes around the man in a mesmerizing dance. He yelled out, his voice ringing with anxiety and anticipation and reverberating through the freezing air.

 

"Who are you?" Flynn's words hung in the wintry stillness, reflecting his fascination and intensity. The man on the opposing tower remained silent for a fleeting moment, assessing him with an earnest gaze. Then, as if submitting to the irresistible force of fate, the man lifted his arm and gestured for Flynn to join him.

 

Caution and curiosity seeped into Flynn's mind, spreading seeds of doubt. Yet, deep within, he understood that denying this risky invitation would invite catastrophic consequences that he couldn't afford to ponder.

 

A heavy sigh passed Flynn's lips as he steeled himself, going on the hazardous path that linked the two towers. Unease and fear intertwined, forcing his heart to pound with trepidation. What lies on the other side? Could he trust this mysterious guy with the trajectory of his own fate?

 

Finally reaching the opposing tower, Flynn found himself face-to-face with the guy who held the key to his current existence. The untidy appearance mirrored the conflict roiling within Flynn's own being. They stood in silence, tangible anxiety putting a veil over the environment.

 

A voice, tinged with a hint of desperation, broke the silence. "You possess my body." The man's comments held anguish and determination. "I've been waiting for you."

 

Flynn's searching gaze met the man's, his eyes a chaotic swirl of conflicting emotions. Trust had always been a scarce commodity in his life, especially in such uncertain situations. He couldn't help but ask whether this encounter was another sophisticated trap, another twist in the tortuous game that had taken him to this incomprehensible planet. Yet, when he met eyes with the man, exhaustion carved into every line of his face, and a glimmer of understanding went between them.

 

As he spoke, recognition sparked in Flynn's eyes, his voice a delicate echo in the wintry air. "You are... Cheol, from the memory earlier."

 

"Yes, I am Cheol, and now so are you," the man softly replied, his words laced with a hint of melancholy. His gaze moved from Flynn to the gloomy skies above, his outstretched palms seeking to catch snowflakes that danced just beyond his reach, the fierce winds denying his grasp.

 

"Why am I here? Why do you say that I am you?" Flynn's voice conveyed determination and curiosity, longing to understand the enigma surrounding him.

 

"I cannot provide answers to those questions. However, I can share one truth with you: that body now belongs to you. You are free to chart your own path. So, go forth and pursue what brings you joy," Cheol said, leaving a hint of doubt in Flynn's mind.

 

"Why don't you want this body? It is yours. Just because my body perished doesn't mean I should possess another." Flynn voiced his skepticism.

 

"If you question the gift of a new life, unburdened by cost, then perhaps, as an exchange, you could grant my wish."

 

"What is your wish?" Flynn said, his interest piqued.

 

"Become the greatest esports player. Show those who wronged me that you possess a strength far beyond their reach. Revenge is not my goal; rather, I want them to witness their own powerlessness."

"Why should I? And why can't you fulfill this wish?" Flynn questioned, a touch of doubt tinting his words.

 

"It is entirely up to you whether you grant this wish. After all, I said you are now free to pursue your desires," Cheol said, leaving Flynn to contemplate the weight of the choices before him.

"But I..." Flynn's words trailed off, drowned out by the rapid action of Cheol. Without hesitation, Cheol stepped forward, giving in to the laws of gravity as he dropped into the abyss below. Flynn's heart skipped a beat, and he automatically reached out, anxiously trying to grab Cheol's falling figure. But his outstretched hand grasped only air, leaving him with a sense of helplessness and a whirlwind of unanswered questions.

 

Cheol's serene smile as he descended, as if his greatest aspirations had been accomplished, only intensified the shock coursing through Flynn's veins. The world seemed to stand still for a moment, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would happen next.

 

Cheol's departure put Flynn in a state of bewilderment. The hand that had reached out in vain now trembled with frustration and confusion. Instead of finding a resolution, Flynn was burdened with a fresh wave of uncertainty, adding to the weight already hanging on his shoulders.

 

As the image of Cheol vanished from view, the parting words echoed in Flynn's head like an enigmatic whisper. It remained in the wintry air, vibrating with a cryptic promise.

 

"If you do as I told you, you may perhaps grasp what you're yearning for."

 

Flynn was left standing on the tower, his thoughts racing with emotions. The weight of Cheol's words sank upon him, sparking a renewed passion within his core. Though the path ahead seemed hazardous and the stakes unclear, he knew deep down that he had to seize this opportunity and fulfill Cheol's wishes. Only then could he hope to obtain the answers he sought.