(On the internet, a post went viral.
It spread too fast.
Too sudden.
Too coordinated.
A so-called "dream disease."
People falling asleep.
Not hours.
Not days.
A week.
No response. No signs of waking.
Alive—but unreachable.
Global.
Silent.
Less than one percent affected… for now.
> "What kind of virus is this? I'm starting to feel afraid of going outside."
> "A virus? Don't joke. This sounds fake."
> "Fake? Then explain the hospitals filling up."
> "The government definitely knows something."
> "Then why aren't they saying anything?!"
The noise grew.
Faster than before.
Louder than before.
That was the first anomaly.
Two days ago… no one cared.
Now?
It was everywhere.
Trending. Exploding. Spreading.
Almost… *pushed*.
And then—
It vanished.
Clean.
Total.
As if it had never existed.
Search results: empty.
Posts: deleted.
Accounts: gone.
Even screenshots began to disappear.
Anyone who tried to repost…
…failed.
Within seconds.
Silenced.
Rewritten.
> "People are waking up now. Stop panicking."
> "Told you. Not a virus."
> "Sleeping for a few days? That's normal. You guys are paranoid."
The tone shifted.
Too fast.
Too smooth.
Like a script.
And the world… accepted it.
---
Inside a small apartment—
A man jolted awake.
His breath was uneven.
His body tense.
Eyes sharp.
Too sharp.
Li Xian didn't move immediately.
He listened.
Silence.
No alarms.
No chaos.
No distant screams.
Wrong.
This silence was wrong.
Slowly, his gaze swept across the room.
The worn desk.
The untouched cup.
The calendar on the wall—
His pupils shrank.
"…This date…"
His throat tightened.
He grabbed his phone.
The screen lit up.
The time.
The year.
Everything aligned.
His fingers trembled.
"So… I've been reborn."
No excitement.
No joy.
Only disbelief.
And something deeper—
Fear.
"And it's before the Stellar Storm…"
His voice dropped.
"…before everything collapsed."
His gaze flickered—
Then froze.
On the screen.
A headline.
A photo.
A woman in a hospital gown.
Eyes closed.
Skin pale.
Unmoving.
Beneath it—
*Sleeping disease takes the world by storm!*
*Internal studies confirm no virus.*
His heartbeat skipped.
Once.
Twice.
Then accelerated.
"This…"
A sharp pain stabbed his mind.
Fragments surfaced.
Broken. Incomplete.
Like something forcing its way through a sealed door.
"This happened…"
He pressed his temples.
"…before the Stellar Storm…"
The memories were there.
But not whole.
Blurry.
Distorted.
"…people said those who fell asleep…"
His voice turned hoarse.
"…gained the most afterward."
Opportunity.
That word echoed.
Again.
And again.
But something felt off.
Wrong.
Incomplete.
"…I never experienced it."
His hands clenched.
Why?
Why didn't he remember clearly?
Why did it feel like—
Something had been *cut out*?
His breathing grew heavier.
"No… I *did* hear about this."
His eyes darkened.
"I remember discussions. Rumors. Warnings."
So why—
Why did he ignore it?
Why did it feel like that memory had been…
*erased?*
A chill ran down his spine.
"Someone… or something…"
"…didn't want me to remember."
Silence.
Thick.
Oppressive.
Li Xian slowly lowered his hand.
His thoughts turned.
Shifted.
Connected.
In his previous life—
Geniuses had risen.
Too many.
Too suddenly.
As if the world itself had chosen them.
The strongest among them—
Cold Empress.
A name that once shook an entire era.
She had joined the Empyrean Cold Palace and ascended beyond reach.
Others followed.
All of them—
Monsters.
And him?
Nothing.
A spectator.
A background existence.
Unseen. Unchosen. Unworthy.
His jaw tightened.
"…Was it really talent?"
Or—
Was it this?
The "dream disease."
A seed of doubt took root.
Then grew.
Rapidly.
"If there's even a chance…"
His eyes sharpened.
"…then this isn't a disease."
"It's a selection."
The word lingered.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
He exhaled slowly.
Calming himself.
Forcing clarity.
"I need to act before it starts."
No hesitation.
No second chances.
This time—
He would not be late.
---
"I remember…"
His voice softened.
"…after the Stellar Storm…"
The world changed.
Violently.
Mutations.
Awakenings.
Opportunities.
Power.
And chaos.
His fists tightened.
"…and I was buried under it all."
Again.
That feeling.
Powerlessness.
Uselessness.
A life that stretched for thousands of years—
Yet meant nothing.
His eyes dimmed.
"…I watched them rise."
Step by step.
While he remained stuck.
The Cold Empress.
Countless others.
Each one leaving him behind.
Further.
Further.
Until he couldn't even see their backs.
"I wasn't just weak…"
His voice dropped.
"…I was irrelevant."
That truth—
Still hurt.
Even now.
And the worst part?
He knew why.
His heart.
His mind.
Broken long before his body failed.
Resentment.
Regret.
Loss.
They consumed him.
Slowly.
Completely.
He didn't lack opportunity.
He lacked clarity.
And he paid for it.
With everything.
---
His gaze shifted.
Landing on a photo.
At the edge of the table.
He froze.
His family.
Smiling.
Alive.
Unaware.
His breathing faltered.
"Mom… Dad…"
A pause.
"My sisters…"
His fingers trembled as he reached out—
But stopped halfway.
Fear.
A different kind.
What if—
This wasn't real?
What if this was just another illusion?
Another cruel trick?
He had lived too long.
Seen too much.
Hope… was dangerous.
"…What if I lose them again?"
The thought struck hard.
His chest tightened.
For a moment—
He hesitated.
Call?
Or not?
If he confirmed they were alive—
He would have something to lose again.
And losing them twice…
Would destroy him completely.
His grip tightened around the phone.
"…Pathetic."
A bitter smile appeared.
"I lived for thousands of years…"
"And I'm still afraid of a phone call?"
His eyes steadied.
"No."
"This time…"
"I don't run."
He dialed.
---
The ringing sound—
Felt louder than thunder.
Each second stretched.
Endless.
Then—
Click.
"Hello? Son? Did the sun rise from the south today? You actually remembered to call me!"
The voice hit him like a wave.
Warm.
Familiar.
Alive.
Li Xian's vision blurred instantly.
"Mom…"
His voice cracked—
Just slightly.
Enough.
"It's my fault… I haven't been busy lately."
A lie.
But he needed time.
"I'm planning to come home."
A pause.
Then joy.
Pure.
Unfiltered.
"That's wonderful! Your father and your sisters will be so happy! You're not lying, right?"
His lips trembled—
Then curved upward.
A real smile.
For the first time.
"Of course not."
"I'll come back."
No matter what.
Even if the world burned again—
He would go back.
After a few more words—
He ended the call.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if afraid it would disappear.
Silence returned.
But this time—
It wasn't empty.
"They're alive…"
He exhaled.
A long breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"They're really alive…"
Warmth spread through his chest.
Then—
A drop.
On his cheek.
He froze.
Touched it.
Wet.
Tears.
"…I still can cry."
He laughed softly.
But his eyes—
Remained sharp.
Because beneath that warmth—
Something else lingered.
A question.
Unanswered.
"If this is a 'selection'…"
"…then what decides who is chosen?"
And more importantly—
"What happens to those who aren't?"
---
Suddenly—
A wave hit him.
No warning.
No buildup.
Just—
Impact.
His body stiffened.
His vision shook.
Blurred.
Spinning.
His heart skipped violently.
Then slowed.
Too slow.
"…No…"
His knees buckled slightly.
Cold spread through his limbs.
Fast.
Relentless.
His thoughts fragmented.
"Not now—"
A realization struck.
Too late.
His gaze snapped to the phone.
To the article.
To the woman—
Sleeping.
Unmoving.
His pupils shrank.
"…So it begins."
Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision.
Swallowing everything.
His last thought—
Clear.
Sharp.
Terrifying.
"If this is a selection…"
"…then I'm already inside it."
—and he had no idea—
Whether he would wake up.
---
*To be continued…*)