I lose count of how many times I fall.

And for some reason, I haven't passed out.

I just kept dying.

The air is thick and still. The darkness hums in my ears. My ceiling blurs above me, too familiar to be comforting. I feel the floor under me—cold, real, solid. My heart thuds against my ribs, each beat impossibly loud in the silence.

For one fragile moment, I don’t move.

Because I’m terrified that if I do, I’ll fall again.

I check my phone with shaking hands. 1:03 AM.

Just a few minutes after I’d stepped into that elevator. But it feels like I’ve been gone for days.

I stagger upright like a newborn animal, legs trembling, and make my way to the bathroom.

I lock the door.

The lights flicker on—too bright. I squint and blink.

There’s a stranger in the mirror.

Me.

Clothes wet and clinging. Mud caked into the seams. Dust smudged across my skin. My hair’s a tangled mess of leaves, sweat, and blood. No wounds though. No visible injuries.

But I feel flayed.

Like I was taken apart and put back together wrong. My skin feels too tight, too new.

I peel the clothes off in silence and step into the shower. The moment the water hits me, I start to cry. No sound. Just tears, falling fast and hot.

The water embraces me, as if comforting a young child. But it doesn’t hide the shaking. It doesn’t wash away the burning memories of pain.

Ara just tried to kill me—no.

No, he didn’t try.

He succeeded.

He killed me in a hundred different ways. And then reset the world like it was nothing.

Just a warning, he said.

Consequence for failing this mission is[DEATH]

He kept repeating it.

Over and over again.

I knew he was serious. Or did I?

But I didn’t realise it would hurt like that.

I didn’t know my brain could feel so much pain.

I didn’t know dying could feel so-so eternal.

Consequence for failing this mission is[DEATH]

I press my forehead against the wall of the shower.

“I have to survive,” I whisper. “I have to live.”

But how?

My fingers twitch. Almost without thinking, I tap my wrist.

A soft beep.

A screen flickers into existence in front of me—floating, translucent, digital and otherworldly.

[SYSTEM INTERFACE]

> Tutorial Mode Active.

> Welcome, User: Nari

> Please proceed to complete initial objectives.

I stare at the menu. The light from it reflects faintly off the water. It’s all real.

All of it.

I slam my fist against the wall. The window remains; it doesn't move.

The water turns cold. I don’t notice until my skin starts to sting.

I step out, dripping, barely breathing.

Wrapped in a towel, I stop in front of the mirror.

Still no proof.

No cuts. No burns. No sign of death.

But the pain doesn't come from the invisible scars. The moment I meet my eyes in the mirror, I stumble back.

It hits me—like a bomb going off in my head.

My own thoughts splinter and echo. Every idea—every word and emotion—every memory, clashes and screams at once.

It’s like standing in a stadium of my mind, all shouting in unison.

I collapse to my knees, hands gripping the sink for balance, stomach lurching.

Too loud. Too much.

“Stop,” I breathe. “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

It fades—slowly. But the fear lingers, and I stay on the bathroom floor for a while. 

I crawl back to my bed and bury myself under the blanket. I lie there staring at the ceiling, soaked hair dripping onto the pillow.

Sleep does not come.

When the alarm goes off, I nearly throw my phone across the room. I silence it with a trembling hand.

I move on instinct. Makeup. Clothes. Brush hair. I try to force a smile on my face, but even without a mirror I can tell I look derranged.

I don't dare look in the mirror again, but I take a selfie with my eyes closed.

The skin around my eyes is grey. My lips feel bloodless. I look like death.

I’m halfway to the door when my knees lock up.

I stop.

Then I turn around and sit on the edge of the bed.

I can’t do this.

Not today.

I text Ha-Yoon that I’m sick and crawl back under the covers.

A few minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on the door. My little brother’s voice, muffled:

“Noona, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, and I have to clear my throat. “Just tired.”

He says okay. Ha-Yoon texts me twice. 

Want me to bring you food?
I’ll send you a picture of my notes

I ignore them, and the silence returns to the house.

I tap my wrist again.

The screen reappears, brighter this time. Clearer.

[SYSTEM INTERFACE]

Mode: Tutorial Active

     User: Nari

     Level: 0

     System Access: Limited

> Ongoing Missions [1]

I click on the different tabs.

[Missions]

Main Quest: [Correct the flow of the story: The main character has strayed from the path due to a- system error!]

> Failure Consequence: [DEATH]

Side Quests: [Locked]

[Abilities]

Mind Reading - [Lv.1]

  [Skills: None]

[Shop]

  [Unavailable in Tutorial Mode]

[Map]

   [Initialising… access limited to current city block]

[Character Info]

   [Stats:]

     Strength: [3]

     Intelligence: [5]

     Reflexes: [6]

     Stamina: [5]

     Empathy: [10]

     Combat: [1]

   [Perks:]

[???]

I stare at the screen, trying to make sense of it all. The words blur and re-focus.

One ability. Is it even possible to have more?  How do I even turn it off?

What the hell is this system?

What even is my role?

I close the screen, then summon it again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Like maybe if I open it enough times, it’ll suddenly make sense.

I’m going to figure this out.

I’m going to make a plan.

I’m going to survive.

By 4:12 PM, I’ve combed through every setting, every screen, every pixel of this cursed menu. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t moved from my bed except to grab my diary and write things down. 

There’s no way to leave.
No way to log out. No exit button. No hidden admin console.

I’ve checked everything.

The system ignores anything you say to it. I don't think it can speak, or even understand me speaking. 

Tutorial Mode, it keeps repeating.
That means I'm training right now. A trial.

So I guess I’m not done dying yet.

I tap my pen against the paper.

I've met all the three people the system told me about.
Seong-Ho —insufferable. He's out. I've seen what he thinks, no way someone like that can change.

Do-Yun — we sit next to each other, he’s a walking wall of silence, but he seems nice.

Ju-Won — I don't know enough about him to make any judgments.

So I guess I know my next steps: observe Do-Yun and Ju-Won. And stay away from Seong-Ho like my life depends on it- because it just might.