The sky was crying that day. I remember the rain the most, cold drops sliding down my neck, soaking into the cuffs of my sleeves. Everyone stood around the coffin with their umbrellas like a forest of black shadows, whispering to one another as if I couldn't hear them.
Her portrait sat at the center of the ceremonial table, framed in black and white, eyes kind but impossibly still. White chrysanthemums and flickering candles surrounded it, their faint scent heavy and sharp in the room. My grandmother's favorite tea had been poured into a small cup in front of the photo, a simple offering.
The room was crowded with relatives I barely knew, faces tight with respect or judgment. They whispered as I passed, words like knives slicing just close enough to sting
I kept my head down, but the words reached me anyway.
"Ever since that boy was born, nothing good has ever happened."
"Tragic… but predictable."
"It's best to stay away. Misfortune clings to him."
They said it softly, but each word landed like a stone in my chest. My fingers wouldn't stop trembling. My grandmother's funeral was being held, yet all they could talk about was me.
I can still hear it, the sound of the accident.
The blinding flash of headlights.
The screech of tires on wet pavement.
Her hand, shoving me out of the way.
The sound I'll never forget: that dull, heavy thud.
She had saved me. Me.
A hand pressed down on my shoulder, grounding me. I looked up, hoping for comfort, but when I met my mother's eyes, all I found was anger. Her face was pale, her lips trembling, but her words struck harder than the rain.
"Why…" Her voice was loud, shaking, but sharp. "Why hadn't it been you that died instead!!?"
I couldn't answer. I couldn't even breathe. My mouth opened, but no sound came. So I just stood there, still and useless, while her words carved themselves into me
That night, my room felt unbearably quiet. I lay curled up under my blanket, my pillow already damp with the tears I had hidden all day. The images replayed in my head again and again, refusing to fade.
"If I wasn't so unlucky… If I hadn't been born like this… Grandma would still be here."
The thought tore me apart, because I believed it. Because maybe everyone was right about me.
I pressed my hands together, as if I could pray the heaviness away. My voice came out in a broken whisper.
"I just… I just don't want to be unlucky anymore."
Hot tears slipped down my cheeks. My chest ached. Slowly, exhaustion dragged me under.
And in that fragile space between sleep and wakefulness, I thought I felt something, like the air shifted around me, curling faintly, brushing my skin. A presence, invisible but undeniable.
I thought it was just a dream.
But it was the first time my wish had ever been heard.
I woke up somewhere that wasn't my room.
The floor beneath me was smooth, impossibly clean. The walls glowed faintly, white but soft, like sunlight filtered through silk. I blinked once, twice, trying to make sense of it.
"Where the hell—" I muttered, but the words didn't finish. My voice sounded small here, swallowed by… nothing.
And then it appeared.
A floating panel, hovering in the air in front of me. Square, glowing faintly, with lines of text scrolling in a language I didn't know I could understand.
[SYSTEM ONLINE]
I took a step back instinctively, I didn't like surprises.
[Welcome, User: Feng Lianyu]
I narrowed my eyes. "What the—Who's there?!"
[Your wish has been received. Your parameters are… evolving.]
I crossed my arms, jaw tight. My luck? My life? This had to be a joke. Some cruel prank. Maybe a virus or some online scam thing projecting into my brain. I'd get real mad if someone told me they were doing this for fun.
"Parameters evolving? What does that even mean?!" I yelled, my voice echoing off walls that weren't walls. I wanted to punch the floating panel just for being there.
[You have been given the ability to perceive… and to respond.]
I threw my hands in the air. "Yeah, right. And I'm supposed to… what? Clap my hands and it all gets better?"
The text shimmered, like it was laughing at me.
[Luck is all around you. Observe. Interact carefully.]
I clenched my fists. "Luck? That's rich. Luck has never done me a damn thing!" My teeth gritted as frustration bubbled up. Always unlucky, always something bad happening. And now some floating system thing tells me to… pay attention to it?
I stormed forward, ready to kick the panel. But instead of hitting anything, the words shifted again, arranging themselves into a new line:
[Your awareness is expanding. Some connections are stronger. Some weaker. Proceed.]
face down, muttering curses under my breath. "God, this is insane… What the hell even is this?"
A part of me, annoyed, skeptical, unwilling to accept anything new, wanted to scream and wake up. But another part, the part that had been shoved into corners my whole life by bad luck, couldn't help staring. There was something there. Something powerful.
"… whatever this is, I don't need it. I'm not some pawn in your weird game!"
The text flickered softly, almost soothingly.
[Your wish has been heard. Now… observe.]
I ground my teeth. "Heard it, huh? Heard it? You mean… my life-long curse?"
Silence. Only the faint glow of the panel
chest heaving, hot-headed as always. "Fine. I'll look. But don't think this means I trust you, alright?!"
And just like that, the dream or whatever this place was started to bend, stretch, and pulse around me. I didn't know it yet, but something had changed. And that change… was going to make sure I'd never see the world the same way again.
I stared at the floating panel, hands still curled into fists at my sides. The air around it shimmered faintly, like heat waves rising off concrete, but cleaner, quieter, almost… purposeful.
Then new lines appeared:
[User: Feng Lianyu]
[Attribute: Luck — Abnormally Low]
[Observation Mode: Active]
I blinked. Abnormally low? That sounded like a joke. Was this thing serious?
I raised a hand instinctively, pointing at a spot across the empty room. A soft ripple ran across the air, and suddenly, tiny dots of light appeared around the space. Some glowed a warm, golden hue, some pale and gray, and one just one flickered like a dying ember.
[Luck Auras: Visible]
I stepped closer, squinting. The golden ones pulsed softly, like they had a heartbeat of their own. The gray ones wavered uncertainly, dragging little shadows behind them. And the ember… it seemed to suck everything near it into its tiny orbit.
A note scrolled down:
[Interactions matter. Proximity to high-luck targets will… influence your own.]
I snorted. Influence my own? Like a magnet or something? I bent down and waved a hand through the ember, just to see. The panel lit up immediately.
[Luck Drain Detected — Danger Level: Moderate]
I jerked my hand back. "Danger? What the hell does that even mean?"
Another line appeared almost instantly:
[Observing is safe. Acting recklessly is not.]
I frowned, lips pressed tight. Fine. Observing. I could do that.
The panel flickered again, faster this time, like it was adjusting itself. Then a tiny indicator appeared next to each floating dot, a number, a symbol, a brightness level I didn't understand yet.
[High-Luck Target: Golden Aura — Priority: Get Close]
Golden aura… priority. I let my eyes sweep across the room. There was one bright enough to make the other lights pale in comparison. A quiet pull tugged at me, subtle but undeniable. I could feel it in my chest, in the tension coiling along my spine.
[You may approach. Effects will scale with distance.]
I took a step back. Approach? What was this supposed to accomplish? Still, I found myself tilting my head, examining the golden dot with more curiosity than fear.
Then the panel shifted again, showing an outline of a figure in the distance, the dot's source. Taller than the others. Poised. Calm. Golden aura rippling softly around them, like sunlight on water.
And something about it made me… tighten my jaw. Curious, cautious, and maybe, just a little reckless all at once.
The room around me began to dissolve, fading back into darkness, the panel hovering faintly before my eyes.
[Session Ending — You Will Wake Soon]
I stumbled backward, trying to process it, and then
I woke up in my own bed. The rain had stopped. The morning sun slipped through the curtains, weak but warm. Everything looked normal, but I could still feel it: the pull. That invisible current tugging at me, like a secret humming just beneath the surface of the world.
And I had a feeling my life was about to get very, very complicated.