Darkness clung to him like wet cloth, It took several seconds for Rex to realize he wasn't floating in some great cosmic void—just trapped in that strange in-between space he had always seen before the game loaded.
[ Welcome to Awakening Online. ]
"Awakening Online," he murmured. "Let's start with this."
His mind moved sluggishly, still adjusting to the fact that anything could be heard after that last long, suffocating beep in the hospital. He'd heard the game's opening sound more times than the nurses heard his heart monitor. Somehow, it felt more personal.
Awakening Online… the only game where the tutorial kills you faster than the final boss.
He had said that once to a doctor who'd been repositioning a needle. The man didn't laugh. Hardly surprising—comedy didn't get much applause when the audience was watching you with a "don't die on me" face.
"Players called it a survival simulator designed by a psychopath," Rex said quietly. "They weren't wrong." The corner of his mouth twitched, though humor couldn't fully hide the exhaustion beneath. "And me? Guess I'm the idiot choosing to play it in the only few hours I get."
A faint image shimmered at the edge of the darkness—snowfields, cracked buildings, the washed-out blue tint the game always used to make the world look colder. He could almost feel his fingers twitch with phantom muscle memory.
"No respawns," he whispered. "No checkpoints. One wrong step and—dead."
For most players, dying in the game was a punishment. For Rex, it had become… almost a break. A temporary shift from thinking about the dying happening outside the screen.
Ironically, I survived longer in that frozen wasteland than I did in my real life. My life sure is fucked up by the weirdest shits.
Memories surfaced with a clarity he hated—sterile lights, too bright; the cold metal of the IV stands; the slow beep of the heart monitor that had grown fainter each month. His body had decayed at a pace that embarrassed even his doctors.
"I wasn't exactly… thriving," Rex said. "Terminal cancer tends to ruin your social ranking."
My best friends were the hospital bed and a six-hour drip bag.
"Awakening Online was the only place I wasn't a dead man waiting."
His parents—especially his father, the wealthy conglomerate titan—had tried to drown his sickness in money. The newest machines. The best treatments. None of it could replace what he actually wanted. A normal life. A body that didn't feel like it was failing more each morning.
Peak gym performance: walking to the bathroom without fainting.
"That was a good day," he muttered.
Another memory hit—one he tried not to think about. "The nurses sometimes had to hold my dick so I could pee,wish they could-----" he said under his breath, expression tightening. "Haah… what a shame to men."
Next Day :Operation Room
The dark pulsed around him. Then voices broke through, muffled and frantic, as if echoing from far away.
"Oh no… his heartbeat—hey, kid—don't give up—"
His chest tightened at the familiarity of it. Then the world flattened into a single long tone.
Beeeeeeep—
He blinked.
"Well," he said softly, "that sucked."
There was no panic. He'd spent too long expecting this moment for fear to matter.
"Death, here I come… embrace me gracefully."
Not the ending I wanted, but whatever.
The darkness swallowed him whole.
Cold hammered into his lungs.
Not the chill of an air-conditioned hospital room—this was winter's fury, sharp and biting enough to make his bones ache. Rex gasped and sat up abruptly, snow-filtered light stinging his eyes. He blinked several times, disoriented, before the shape of the room sharpened around him.
The apartment looked ruined—walls splintered, furniture overturned, frost crawling across surfaces like a parasite. Snow drifted lazily through a crack in the window, gathering in small heaps on the floor. His breath puffed out as white mist.
"Ugh—wait…" He pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm not… dead?"
He scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping on the frost-covered floor. "Where the fuck is this…?" His gaze roamed over the room, disbelief tightening his throat. "This is not the afterlife I ordered."
Unless heaven is running low on heating.
A shiver cut through him, though not from the cold. Something about standing upright—without assistance, without pain—felt more surreal than anything else. He braced himself against a wall and took tentative steps, testing the strength in his legs.
They held,Perfectly at that,
He swallowed, hands trembling. The room offered no explanation, just broken furniture and faint echoes of wind seeping in from the outside. Then something caught his eye—a shard of mirror lying near a collapsed cabinet. He crouched, lifted it carefully, and froze.
The face staring back was absurdly handsome, like a kpop idol,
Black tousled hair, sharp jawline, cold blue eyes, smooth skin that had never known decay. He tilted the shard, his reflection shifting like that of a movie actor.
"You've gotta be kidding me…"
This looks exactly like the starting safehouse in Awakening Online… no way.
A soft electrical hum sounded behind him, followed by a flicker of blue light.
[ Host synchronization complete. Hello, Rex. ]
Rex nearly dropped the mirror. "Aw hell nah… it's actually real."
If this is a dream, my brain spent way too much money on graphics.
The hologram expanded, displaying neon-blue text that hovered in the air with digital precision.
[ Regression Module: Active ]
[ Steal Protocol: Active ]
He stared at the floating lines.
"What… seriously?"
[ Upon death, the Host will return to the anchor point. ]
[ Killing entities or being killed grants potential abilities. ]
He ran a hand down his face, exasperation mixing with disbelief. "So dying makes me stronger." A humorless laugh slipped out. "Aren't I the cheat code of this fucked-up world?"
Peak life hack right??well ...it ain't
He moved toward the hallway, each step crunching softly against debris. The corridor beyond was a narrow tunnel of frost-marked walls and collapsing plaster. The air felt unnatural—too still, too sharp.
"Ugh… shit—it's so cold," he muttered. "Isn't being creepy already enough?"
He walked slowly, allowing his senses time to adjust. The lack of weakness in his limbs felt wrong. Too sudden. Too convenient.
God… walking without tubes is weird. My legs actually work?
He jogged several steps, almost tripping over his own surprise.
"Woah—Holy crap. I can run."
Down the stairwell, the building's main entrance hung half-broken. Rex peered out cautiously. The world beyond was a frozen graveyard—cars locked in ice, buildings crippled under layers of snow, the sky an endless, oppressive white.
It was beautiful in a haunting way.
This is… actually beautiful. Horrifying, but beautiful.
Movement caught his eye—a figure stumbling across the street. At first, Rex thought it was a survivor. Then the details sharpened.
Pale, frostbitten skin. Clothes torn at odd angles. Limbs stiff and jerky. The emptiness in its eyes was unmistakable.
"…Nope."
No thank you. Refund. I'm leaving.
He stepped back instinctively, but his heel struck an empty can.
Clink—
The creature's head snapped toward him with unnatural speed.
"Oh my god—fuck—"
"Double nope!"
Rex spun and ran, feet skidding across the icy floor. He made it two steps before twisting his ankle on a chunk of cement. He crashed onto the stairs with a yelp, breath knocking out of him.
Shadows surged at the base of the stairwell. More figures. More pale faces. More dead eyes. A cold hand closed around his ankle, yanking him downward. Another grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his skin with inhuman strength. Teeth clamped onto his shoulder—
And everything vanished.
[ Host death confirmed. Regression initializing. ]
Rex woke with a violent jerk, chest heaving as if he'd just surfaced from drowning. The apartment's cracked ceiling greeted him again. The same frost. The same stillness.
His breath came in short, jagged bursts.
He pressed a trembling hand to his chest, feeling phantom pain bloom across his collarbone. The memory of teeth lingered like an echo, sharp enough to make him flinch. His throat tightened, and panic coiled beneath his ribs.
"…Okay…" His voice wavered. "That… was trauma."
Sweat trickled down his forehead despite the freezing air. He curled his arms around himself, backing into a corner as the room tilted uneasily.
"Should I even go down again…?"
At least dying doesn't hurt forever.
The air felt too thin, too sharp. Every sound magnified—the creak of the wind, the faint drip of melting frost, the rasp of his breaths. His heartbeat galloped unevenly, threatening to spiral into chaos.
He buried his face in his knees, forcing himself to breathe.
"…hah… hah… just… calm down…" His voice cracked. "Breathe… just breathe…"
The walls seemed to press closer, squeezing the air out of him. His fingers dug into the fabric of his pants ,then zippers, knuckles white. His mind replayed the moment teeth tore into him, over and over, as if the world demanded he relive his death in excruciating detail.
Everything's too real. Too loud. Too close.
alright...."uhh....haah...hah.."
soft moans filled the room,
"hah...ahh"
slick hand movements, not for pleasure but to distract himself, even for a fucking second,
"ahnnn ....ugh"
Minutes passed before the storm inside him eased. His breathing steadied, though his eyes still burned with the remnants of panic. Eventually, he reached for a rag buried beneath debris and wiped his hands, jaw tight, expression rigid.
"…Pathetic," he muttered. "Imagine doing that while the world's frozen and full of monsters."
But…I can say it is .... effective, well atleast somewhat..
The trembling in his muscles subsided to a dull tremor. His thoughts cleared. The cold stopped biting as fiercely.
He pushed himself to his feet.
"…Alright," he murmured. "Yup… okay."
He dusted his clothes even though they were beyond saving. Then he looked toward the door—the same door leading to the same death he'd already met twice.
"Round two."
A faint, grim smile tugged at his lips.
"If the world wants me dead…" he said softly, "it's gonna have to try harder."
Not too much harder—he had already died twice today.
He stepped forward, heart steadying as he crossed the threshold.
The frozen city waited.