There's nothing here.
No light. No ground. No sound.
Just dark. And me.
I don't know if I'm standing or floating. I can't feel anything beneath me. Or above me. Or around me.
It's not cold, but it's not warm either. It's like temperature doesn't exist here. Like I've fallen out of the rules that usually apply to the world.
Funny.
I always thought, if I died, there'd be something. A flash of my life. Some image of the people I lost. Even just… a voice. But this is just black. Not scary. Just—empty.
Maybe I'm asleep.
Maybe this is the Simulation again.
But it doesn't feel like it.
The Simulation is slow. Controlled. When I'm inside it, I know I'm inside it. This isn't that.
I don't think I've ever been here before.
If this is death, it's not what people say. But if it's not death, then… what is it?
I don't ask that out loud. I don't feel like speaking. Not here. It'd be like yelling into a cave and getting nothing back.
And honestly, I'm used to silence.
I've always done most of my talking inside my head.
I guess if I'm stuck, I should try to think clearly. That's what I always do. Whenever things get too much—at school, on the street, even at home—I slip into that internal space. The one where time slows down. Where I can breathe.
They laughed at me for it.
Simulation Sovereign. They said it like I was a joke. Like I was playing pretend.
I didn't mind it much, not really. Not because it didn't hurt. It did. It just… wasn't surprising. I didn't belong in their world, and they didn't want me to. Simple as that.
I didn't ask to be born with no real magic. I didn't ask for my parents to die in that dungeon. I didn't ask to be left behind with just my grandmother, who never really stopped grieving, even if she said she had.
But they don't care about that. People never really care about what you don't ask for.
I wonder if she's okay. Grandma. I hope someone told her what happened. That I was hit. I don't even remember the moment clearly. Just the sound—rubber shrieking on wet road—and then…
This.
It could've been quick.
I hope it was quick.
Still no light. Still no sound. No passage of time. No heartbeat. Just my thoughts.
If this is what comes after, it's not so bad.
It's peaceful.
But it's not much of anything, either.
The thing is—I've been in places like this before. Not literal ones. Just mental. When I'd sit in the Simulation and let my thoughts roll over themselves. Practicing how to respond to bullies without freezing up. Practicing how to say "no" without guilt. Practicing how to sound like I mattered, even if I didn't feel like I did.
It never really worked.
Out there, I stumble. I choke. I become smaller.
But in my head, I'm smooth. I say the right thing. I stare back. I move on.
Maybe this place is just that—a thought I haven't woken up from. A quiet space where nothing interrupts.
There's a strange comfort in that. The absence of pressure. No one to pretend for. No one to disappoint.
I could stay here.
But I think—I don't want to.
Not because I'm afraid. Not really. Just… because it's too much like quitting. And I've already done too much of that in life.
I don't have any grand ambition. No big dream. I'm not like the people in those academy brochures with their bright futures and powerful auras. I'm just Akio. Quiet. Forgettable. Background.
But I was alive. I was still trying. Even if I didn't know what for.
And now I'm not.
It doesn't feel fair to vanish like this. To end in a void.
But maybe that's the most honest way to go. Just drift out of frame. Fade in silence. No spotlight. No drama.
Still. I wish someone knew I was here. That I had been there.
I wish someone remembered me as more than a name on a roster.
I wish—
Wait.
Something moved.
Not a sound. Not a flash. But a shift. Like the black blinked. I don't know how else to describe it. Like something opened its eye, then shut it again.
I hold my breath.
And that's when I realize—I can breathe. I wasn't before. But now I am.
It's slight, like waking from a deep sleep into a dream where things almost make sense.
Something's here.
Or maybe it always was. And I just didn't notice it.
The space around me starts to feel different. Not warmer, not brighter. Just… denser. Like the air has texture now. Not air, exactly, but a shape to the nothing.
I focus. I don't know why. I just do.
And beneath me—or maybe around me—something forms.
A circle.
A ring of faint light. So dim it almost isn't there. But it's perfect. Clean. Drawn without hesitation.
I don't reach for it. I don't need to.
It feels familiar.
Like remembering a name you forgot you knew.
It doesn't pulse. It doesn't glow. It just… is.
I stare at it for a long time. I don't speak. I just let it be.
Whatever this place is, whatever this circle means—I think it's mine. I don't know how. I don't know why. But it's quiet here. And that quiet is listening.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know if I'm dead.
But I'm not alone. Not exactly.
And maybe—just maybe—I'm not gone