615 Episode 12 □□ (6)

Han Sooyoung could not understand the situation unfolding before her eyes.

"What the hell?"

She looked down at Cheon Inho, collapsed on the ground.

Blood poured relentlessly from his chest, where 'Unbreakable Faith' had pierced straight through.

It was an irreversible wound.

There was already too much blood pooling across the floor. Whether it was the 'Ellain Forest Essence' or anything else, nothing she could do now would bring him back.

"You, why the hell?"

The writer of ORV from another wordline, wearing Cheon Inho's face.

Han Sooyoung understood his cause and his desperate desire to save his readers.

"I... I said I would do something, didn't I?"

This world was the <Star Stream>.

Once a scenario began, someone's sacrifice was inevitable.

The outcome of 'Destruction' was predetermined, so Han Sooyoung decided to end it as quickly as possible with minimal sacrifice.

She knew it would be harsh on the characters.

However, leaving things as they were would lead to an even greater tragedy in this round and trying to change the ending could cause a catastrophe across all worldlines

Han Sooyoung took on the role of a villain once again.

She designed an ending with minimal pain.

Her plan was to retrieve the souls of the possessed individuals caught up in the scenarios and return them to their original worldline with minimal loss.

Everything went smoothly until that guy appeared.

The words he’d left behind echoed endlessly through her mind.

Han Sooyoung gasped for breath as she felt the probability.

Why did he say that? Why did he jump in front of her?

She never intended to kill him. If that had been her plan, she would have severed his neck right away.

Nevertheless, as if following the predetermined path of a tragedy, her 'Unbreakable Faith' pierced right through his chest.

She tried to alter the sword’s trajectory mid-strike, again and again, but her muscles wouldn't obey, as if the world itself were demanding his death.

'No way.'

Han Sooyoung recalled the achromatic landscape that had unfolded moments before.

What if that was this guy's 'skill'?

What if he had a skill that created the events he desired, but at the cost of probability? What if, as the price of that probability, he sacrificed himself?

Han Sooyoung staggered in the rising dizziness, slowly bending down toward the fallen Cheon Inho.

She wanted to ask him a question before he died. Why the hell did he do this?

Then Cheon Inho's hand slipped out of his pocket with a thud. In his hand was a lollipop of a somewhat familiar shape.

As if she had stumbled upon an inexplicable sentence written in the most unexpected place, Han Sooyoung stared blankly down at the candy.

Slowly, she reached out her hand.

Sparks flew with the sound of 'Tsutsutsu'. Stories spilled from the lollipop in his hand, like something long sealed finally breaking open.

A story?

It couldn't be. The third main scenario was only just about to end.

Unless he's a special case like her, there's no way an incarnation could have already acquired a 'story'—

Something incomprehensible happened.

Those were definitely her words, her voice.

But why does this guy have a story related to her?

The voices flowing out were familiar. All of them were voices she knew. These were sentences she knew.

Her mind grew increasingly confused.

A memory vividly surfaced in her mind.

She had definitely had that conversation with Kim Dokja before.

An outing to the Han River sometime ago.

Huddled together with her party, she had a conversation with Kim Dokja about TWSA. She asked Kim Dokja something about Ways of Survival.

Kim Dokja couldn't answer.

Slowly, a chill ran through her heart, and she struggled to breathe. From the first moment she saw him, she’d thought something was off.

Who the hell is this Cheon Inho?

She knew that he was an author of ORV from another world line, but there were too many strange things to ignore about him to simply dismiss it like that.

Han Sooyoung reached for the lemon candy with trembling fingertips.

Stories flowed like blood from a burst wound.

It's a story that even Han Sooyoung, who wrote 'Ways of Survival', doesn't know.

It was a story no one had ever read, existing between the lines of the sentences she had written.

Few people remember the moment they were first born.

For me, it was the same.

People called me that, and I introduced myself that way too.

Alone and son.

Bearing the name my father had given me, I lived a life of living up to it.

I have always done everything alone, eating alone, working alone, sleeping alone.

Perhaps that was why...

When I was no longer 'alone' for the first time, I heard strange words.

A colleague I had always trusted, the person I thought maybe who could understand me best in the world.

It wasn’t true.

She easily overpowered me and threw me onto the cold floor.

Then she told the others that I was an ‘avatar’.

I didn't understand.

Surely, just moments ago, we ate together, laughed, and chatted. Why are you suddenly saying such things to me?

The reason was simple.

I couldn't properly remember a certain novel.

Thinking it was a trivial misunderstanding, I smiled as usual and said,

The woman's dagger flew through the air, and blood burst from my shoulder blades.

The companions criticized her.

They defended me, saying I wasn't fake. Avatars don't bleed.

Still, she did not back down.

The moment my eyes met hers, I felt a chill run down my spine.

And I thought.

My memory of that day isn't clear.

Only that the wound hurt quite a bit.

That even though it was a shallow wound, the blood wouldn't stop flowing..

That I collapsed right there.

Only those facts remain vaguely in my mind.

Even after that day, the group continued to call me 'Kim Dokja'.

But every time I heard that name, I felt myself drifting further away from my own identity.

Even as I was being comforted, I felt confused.

I couldn't tell.

People who forget their memories don't remember what they've forgotten.

But from the moment I realized I 'forgot something', I felt strange.

My complexion grew worse by the day, and my vivid memories were fading away.

I became increasingly afraid.

My companion held my hand with a warm smile, But for some reason, that smile felt unfamiliar to me.

The companion's smile was not directed at me, but rather seemed to be accidentally placed on the empty seat where the 'real Kim Dokja' was.

The time I slept became longer, and I often listened to my companions in my hazy dreams.

The party members did not interrogate or accuse me.

Rather, they were discussing a possibility.

The companion who first suspected me also visited my hospital room. Most of her visits were late at night.

In my languid consciousness, I often felt a hand pulling up the blanket.

She stared at me for a long time in the dark, then quietly disappeared from my hospital room by the time dawn came.

Sometimes, when I woke up, there was someone who brought me food.

I thought as I hurriedly finished my meal in extreme hunger.

I must have eaten this kind of dish a few times while going through the scenarios.

Why do I have no memory?

The man glared at me with his sullen face and said.

After saying that, the man stared at the clock hanging in the hospital room for a long time.

I watched the clock with him. I watched the second hand move, then the minute hand follow.

I don't know if the words affected me or not. However, when I woke up the next day, I said something strange to the group.

Of course, I didn't come to believe that there was a 'real' one.

I just wanted to know.

If the 'real Kim Dok-ja' does not exist, the fact that I am real will naturally be proven.

This story that I'm only an [Avatar]... that the real Kim Dokja is still trapped in the subway of the final scenario, dreaming... all those ridiculous hopes will eventually vanish from the party members' thoughts.

<Kim Dokja’s Company>'s journey to recover the lost 'Kim Dokja'.

And so, I crossed over with the party members into wordline of the 1,865th round.

I didn't do a great job, but I watched my companions throughout the scenario.

Seeing my companions carry out hellish scenarios from scratch, I often felt an incomprehensible feeling.

My companions silently performed the scenario.

As the scenario progressed, they each found the 'Kim Dokja' they were looking for.

In every moment of theirs, there was a ‘Kim Dokja’ I couldn't remember.

While watching their story, I naturally realized a certain fact.

It wasn't up to me to decide whether I was real or fake.

They were sympathetic.

I was taken care of.

Even that, perhaps, was not what I deserved.

After so many years, the party finally faced the end of the world.

Something in me knew. And for the first time, I put that feeling into words.

It was my last struggle and plea.

Please don't open it.

Please don’t open that door, the last car of the subway.

Then the woman answered.

In that moment, I sensed my role in the story.

Finally, the last subway car door opened, and I finally faced the sight I feared.

Kim Dokja who had become like a child.

Kim Dokja, losing his memory just like me. But the moment I saw Kim Dokja, I realized.

Like a satellite drawn by a star’s gravitational pull, my body moved towards Kim Dokja.

The memories I held shattered into pieces, and were sucked into the Kim Dokja in front of me.

As I felt my body vanish, I thought

Then who was I?

I was Kim Dokja.

But not the Kim Dokja this world wanted.

In the final moment before my consciousness faded, I thought:

A delusion, or so everyone believed. An impossible wish that only the real Kim Dokja could dream of.

I imagined a distant universe, utterly unreachable in this world, and an unnamed being born within it.

A creature that no one in <Kim Dokja’s Company> recognizes and has nothing to do with Kim Dokja.

There was a sound like something exploding, and in the next instant, his consciousness shattered into fragments and scattered across the universe.

However, the largest fragment of consciousness that formed my core did not completely dissipate in the end and became a meteor.

The meteor set out on a very long voyage. Crossing the edge of the world line again and again, it drifted into the unknown depths of the universe.

How much longer did I sail like that?

The meteor stopped its journey.

The meteor fell toward the planet, shattering into even smaller fragments of soul.

Then it entered the body of a newborn baby at the planet's edge.

A voice came, muffled and distant. I squeezed out my last strength and burst into a weary cry.

Then someone hugged me tightly.

I was quietly wrapped in a blanket and placed on the bed.

Maybe it's because I lost all my memories.

Or was it because the long journey was exhausting? I immediately fell into a deep sleep.

And when I awoke again, people called me by a name I had never heard before.

Finally, my wish came true.