The first thing that came back into my vision was a wide-open field, too long and flat to look natural.
The golden light that lit the place didn't seem to come from a sun but from the air itself, like the atmosphere was glowing on its own.
In the center stood a small wooden stage, perfectly set up, and on it a man in an immaculate three-piece suit. He wore a tall top hat that added a few inches of authority and a monocle over his left eye that caught the light, flashing between gold and silver depending on the angle.
He was an elegant figure, almost cartoonish, but with a presence you couldn't ignore. He didn't move much, just enough that every tiny gesture felt overly significant.
I glanced sideways at Kim Jiwon, who was shaking. His eyes weren't on the man so much as on the monocle, like that little piece of glass was more threatening than everything else.
Then I realized we weren't alone. At first I thought the light was playing tricks, but no — other people started appearing across the field.
Blurred at first, then sharpening into outlines, like they were being pulled through from behind an invisible curtain.
Some looked as lost as we did, looking around cluelessly. Others, though, seemed… strangely calm.
In that suspended moment, Kim Jiwon started talking. His voice wavered between explanation and confession, not exactly aimed at me, but at Dong Minseok and Yi Yerin and I couldn't help but listen.
"This place…" He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "It's the Another World. A world parallel to ours, ruled by the Seven Gods."
"Seven Gods?" Yi Yerin repeated, one eyebrow raised, her tone heavy with skepticism. "You do realize how that sounds, right? This isn't a fairy tale, Kim Jiwon."
"I know it sounds insane…but it's not. My sister… they said she's here. She didn't die in that car accident like everyone thinks."
Dong Minseok blinked, frowning in confusion.
"But there was a body, Jiwon. The police saw it, we saw it, everyone confirmed it."
"A body, yes," Kim Jiwon swallowed. "But it wasn't really her. It was just… a façade. They told me her soul never returned to our world. She got stuck here."
Yi Yerin crossed her arms, shrugging off the absurdity. Her usually rational face shifted between irritation and disbelief.
"You're saying that all this time… your sister was alive? Trapped in this place?"
"More than that," Kim Jiwon answered without hesitation, eyes locked on the stage and the man. "She knew this world. Even before everything happened, she used to come here. She was one of the 'Outsiders', people who cross between these worlds. I never knew… not until I lost her."
Dong Minseok looked at each of us, taking it all in. Jaw tense, voice steady.
"And you really think we can save her?"
"There's a chance," Kim Jiwon said, his gaze burning with a faith I couldn't match. "This is where she disappeared for real, and this is where I can bring her back."
Yi Yerin shook her head, eyes narrowed in frustration.
"You're gambling our whole lives on this. You understand that, right? We don't know anything about these 'Gods,' or who they even are!"
Kim Jiwon looked away for a moment, his voice dropping.
"It doesn't matter who they are. What matters is that this world is the only key I have to bring my sister back. And I can't do it alone."
I stood a few steps back, listening in silence. The field wind was cold, but not as cold as his words.
If it was true, then everything we thought of as real — physical law, the line between life and death — was just a show.
If it was a lie… then we were watching Kim Jiwon collapse in front of us, a slow, painful fall dressed up as faith.
The man on the stage, who'd been still until then, finally spoke. Upright posture, the practiced gesture of tipping his top hat for a moment and bowing slightly; every move looked carefully rehearsed to convey courtesy, like a host greeting guests in his home.
His presence was unsettling, and yet his voice sounded light, almost cordial, as if what was happening were routine.
"Welcome, Outsiders," a thin smile accompanied his words. His voice carried clearly across the field without effort. "I will be your evaluator today."
He paused, scanning every face with that glittering monocle.
"You've crossed over, which already puts you ahead of most. But don't confuse the first step with achievement. That was only the entrance. Now… the part we call the Tutorial begins."
An immediate murmur spread among the newcomers. Some exchanged looks full of disbelief, others pure nervousness.
I saw fists clench, breaths quicken, eyes darting around looking for an exit that didn't exist.
The man went on, the monocle catching the same golden light that seemed to come from the air itself.
"The objective is simple. You must find the tokens. These small fragments will be your tickets to the next stage, guaranteeing passage to the true Another World. Without them, there will be no continuation, only an empty return… or something worse."
He spread his arms in a theatrical gesture, like a conductor directing an invisible orchestra.
"In total, there are thirty people gathered here, not counting me, but only ten tokens have been scattered across this place. Which means inevitably twenty of you will not advance. That is the purpose of the Tutorial: a selection. To separate the worthy from those who must remain behind."
The words fell like blades. There was no metaphor, no room for gentle interpretations. It was simple and cruel.
"Remember," he continued, the courteous smile remaining as a mask, "getting here was just the beginning. The Another World doesn't open its doors to everyone, only to the deserving. Be clever, be strong, be ruthless if you must. The introduction time is over. Now, it's your turn."
He replaced his top hat, adjusted it with a light touch, and bowed in an impeccable, almost ironic reverence.
"We will meet again in twenty-four hours. Until then… make your choices."
And with no further explanation, his figure simply dissolved into the air. It wasn't a sudden disappearance but a slow fading, like gold paint running down.
A strange emptiness settled over the stage, leaving only heavy silence as witness.
Thirty people, ten tokens. A simple arithmetic, but cruel, already reflecting in the looks exchanged among the newcomers, including us.
Some stared at each other with suspicion, others looked on the verge of panic, and some were already moving in pairs or trios, forming instinctive alliances.
These were, like us, people who'd appeared in groups, all at once.
It was in those seconds of hesitation that Kim Jiwon took the lead.
"Let's go together. Standing still will only slow us down. If we work as a group, we have a better chance of finding a token for each of us."
It was a pious lie, but Dong Minseok nodded almost immediately, like there was no time to waste. Yi Yerin agreed too, without showing doubt.
They still believed him; they still saw some kind of hope in his words.
I, on the other hand, had too many questions.
Who was that man? What would happen to those who failed? How exactly did the tokens work?
Cascade after cascade of questions throbbed in my mind. But I didn't ask any of them.
For the moment, the only thing that really mattered was securing one of the tokens.
That's why I just followed them.
As we began walking across the field, I could hear scattered murmurs from other groups: heated discussions, promises of cooperation, veiled threats.
Everyone knew that, in the end, twenty would be left behind. But no one wanted to be the first to admit what would happen to the stragglers.
I didn't either.
Not because I was eager to find out, but precisely the opposite. The fate of those who failed didn't interest me, no matter what it was.
The only certainty was that it wouldn't be pleasant. Regardless of which world you're in, failure carries the same meaning.
And even though joining this wasn't my choice, I had no intention of being among the eliminated.
...
The field stretched as far as the eye could see, but as we moved forward it gradually gave way to a forest.
The change was almost abrupt, the wide-open space closing into narrow corridors of thick trunks and uneven shadows.
The trees were tall, like the columns of a natural temple. Wet leaves dripped at irregular intervals, the leftover of a rain that had probably fallen before we were brought here.
The ground, packed dark earth, gave slightly under each step, letting off the smell of damp clay mixed with soaked wood.
The most unsettling thing, though, wasn't the landscape, it was the silence. No birds sang, no insects buzzed, no animals rustled in the branches.
It was an absolute, sonic void, broken only by the wind whistling through the canopy and the muffled sound of our own movement.
Kim Jiwon walked ahead, taking steps that were too big for someone who was clearly shaking inside. He tried to hide his nerves with enthusiasm, talking fast, like his voice alone could push the fear away.
"In every game or novel I've read, the first tutorial always hides something simple but treacherous. They won't leave the tokens out in the open. They'll be in strategic spots, or guarded by traps."
His words sounded like an improvised survival guide, borrowed from fiction that, in these circumstances, turned out to be more useful than any academic book.
Dong Minseok, by contrast, kept a practical stance. He stayed up front, pushing branches aside with his arms, clearing a path for us like someone used to protecting others.
At one point he reached out and shoved Yi Yerin back before she took the next step, after I'd pointed her attention to that spot.
The ground there was covered with leaves, but something about the terrain had caught my eye. He tested it with a dry branch and, when he pushed, the surface gave way. A deep hole opened, revealing sharp wooden stakes driven into the bottom.
"Careful. They weren't kidding about the danger," he said, voice steady.
Yi Yerin sighed, took a deep breath before answering. Her tone stayed rational, almost academic.
"If this really is a selection test, then the tokens won't be in obvious places. We need to think in terms of reference points: bigger trees, clearings, maybe even hidden structures. Walking in circles won't help."
Her mind worked like she was facing a logic problem in class. And, in a way, that's exactly what it was.
The difference here being that a wrong answer didn't mean losing points on a test, it could mean getting impaled in a trap.
I followed along, but without enthusiasm. Every now and then I threw out a guess, more to seem useful than because I actually thought I was helping.
Dong Minseok nodded politely, giving me credit, but it was clear my suggestions weren't exactly groundbreaking.
We walked for exactly fifty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds. We passed empty clearings, trees so symmetrical they looked planted on purpose — like artificial columns in a maze — and more than one disguised trap along the way.
But no token.
Silence grew between us again, and that's when, without thinking much, I broke it with an offhand question, just to satisfy a little curiosity that had been nagging me since the start.
"Did the people who told you about this place… not say anything else?"
Kim Jiwon paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and answered without looking back.
"They couldn't say much. They just handed me the ticket and told me the rest I'd have to figure out on my own."
Yi Yerin scoffed and crossed her arms.
"Of course, the same old story. They give you a riddle, but never explain anything properly."
But Kim Jiwon kept talking, as if he hadn't heard her.
"My sister… she always told me stories when we met. I thought they were just stories. About people with cool abilities, living exciting adventures. Fights with monsters, different kingdoms, gods watching from above…" he smiled softly, nostalgic. "Now I think maybe she was teaching me about this world without me realizing it."
Dong Minseok raised an eyebrow, thinking over Kim Jiwon's words.
"That sounds like a fantasy kingdom."
Yi Yerin shook her head in disbelief.
"Childhood stories becoming survival guides… that's ridiculous."
"Maybe," Kim Jiwon replied, steady. "But ridiculous or not, we're here now. And if she managed to cross over and live this, then I can too. And this time… I won't leave her alone."
It was a nice thing to say, but I wondered if he didn't notice the contradictions in what he was saying.
The conversation continued in short echoes, words lost among the trees as we pushed through the forest that seemed to go on forever.
Time stretched like elastic; each heavy step against the damp ground sounded louder than it should. Even our breathing felt like part of an annoying soundtrack — inhale, exhale, repeat.
It was in that almost hypnotic rhythm that I noticed something: small details on the soaked ground shallow, fresh impressions.
Footprints that hadn't faded completely, and since I was mentally mapping every place we'd passed, I knew we hadn't been there before.
Someone else had been ahead of us. Another group, maybe with the same urgency to find a token before time ran out.
The problem was simple: none of the others noticed again.
Dong Minseok was fully focused on clearing the way with his body, pushing branches and roots aside to make the path safer. Yi Yerin, always analytical, scanned trunks and clearings for any logical pattern that might point to where the tokens were.
And Kim Jiwon… he was too lost in his own mix of hope and anxiety, repeating to himself that he was getting closer to his sister.
Attention to detail didn't seem to be anyone's strong suit at that moment.
And ironically, I wasn't exactly known as the group's lookout either. If I pointed out the footprints directly, I'd raise more questions than answers.
So I chose a discreet move. I crouched, picked up another fallen branch, and tossed it into a nearby bush in the direction the tracks led.
Very discreet.
The dry snap of wood breaking through leaves echoed through the silent forest, and everyone turned.
"There," Dong Minseok said immediately, already walking toward the noise. His stance changed at once: shoulders up, eyes sharp, every muscle ready.
It was the typical reflex of someone used to fighting, expecting an enemy behind every tree.
He was the first to notice the marks on the ground. He knelt, ran his fingers through the pressed mud, and looked around carefully.
"They're footprints. Someone else went through here."
The confirmation shifted the group's pace.
Yi Yerin came closer, examining them too.
"Looks like they went in a straight line."
Kim Jiwon swallowed hard.
"That means they might've found something."
"Or they're as lost as we are," I shot back, no weight behind it.
In the end, the decision was unanimous. We'd follow the tracks. If we were lucky, they'd at least found a token.
In that case, I just needed to come up with a good reason for Dong Minseok, the nice muscular guy, to accept that violence was the best way to reach an agreement with them for that token.