In the darkness of her unconscious mind, Bitna found herself standing in sunlight.
Not the pale, sickly light of the current Earth, but real sunlight—warm, golden, soft on her skin. She blinked, dazed, and saw her home. Not the crumbling slum they now lived in, but the small, neat house they used to share, before the world went wrong.
The front yard had a crooked fence. The little pink bicycle lay on its side by the steps. There was laughter—her laughter, younger, lighter. She was five again. She ran barefoot through the grass, dress flapping, hair bouncing. Someone was chasing her.
"Bitna! Get back here!"
Her mother's voice.
She turned around. There they were—Mom and Dad.
Her mother's gentle eyes. Her father's slightly tired grin from working two jobs but still picking her up and spinning her around like she was light as air. She giggled. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, like they used to.
Then came Tae-yang, her oldest brother—tall, a little awkward, always serious. He was trying to peel her off Dad, muttering something about dinner being ready. He looked like he always did before everything fell apart—hair too long, sleeves rolled up, a soft weariness in his eyes that never left after the funeral.
Next was Byeol-ha, her second brother, with that crooked smile and sharp tongue. Even as a teen he was a little too clever, a little too rebellious. He was trying to bribe her with candy while Eora, their only sister, whined in the background that Bitna always took Byeol-ha's side.
It was normal.It was warm.It was safe.
Then it broke.
The sky cracked like glass.
Bitna gasped.
In one blink, her mother's soft eyes turned hollow. Her father's face twisted—no longer smiling, but bloodied and still. Their home caught fire. The little bicycle melted into slag.
Tae-yang was screaming. Holding a kitchen knife, back pressed against the door. Outside, things were crawling—feral, mutated humans and worse. Eora was sobbing behind him, and Bitna clung to Byeol-ha's leg, unable to breathe.
They were starving. Cold. Hunted.
Bitna's memory tore open like an old wound—showing her the reality that followed her parents' death. Tae-yang, only a teenager, became a parent overnight. He burned their records, bartered for fake IDs, walked miles to find work that would take a boy and his siblings. He cried only once, the night he sold their family heirloom just to get medicine for Bitna's cough.
Then Byeol-ha changed. Hardened. His grin became sharper. His kindness became rarer. His eyes were no longer full of mischief—but calculation. Survival.
Eora stopped smiling altogether. She walked with her head down, blindfolded, always listening, never trusting.
Bitna grew up in the ruins. She learned to hide, to beg, to trade favors for safety. She learned to run from armed men and monsters alike. She learned what happened when people found out you were alone.
And now, in this strange vision—half dream, half memory—Bitna stood between two versions of her life. One peaceful. One brutal.
She fell to her knees.
"Why show me this?" she whispered. Her voice echoed strangely.
Then she heard her own voice—not as she sounded now, but as a five-year-old:
"If I'm good, will Mommy come back?""If I don't cry, will Tae-yang get better?""If I don't cause trouble, will Byeol-ha stop fighting?""If I stay quiet, will no one leave me?"
Bitna clutched her head. The sunlight was gone. The dream was collapsing. The warm grass turned to ash beneath her knees.
The monsters came now—not literal ones, but shaped from memory. Men with knives. Fire from bombs. Screams from helpless neighbors. Her own hands covered in blood. Her body trembling from fear and cold.
You are weak, the dream whispered.You've always been weak.You were just protected.
She cried out—but before she shattered, she remembered something.
A smile.
Not her mother's. Not Tae-yang's.
Byeol-ha's.
That stupid, arrogant smirk he gave before pushing her behind him. That smirk that said, "Relax. I've got this."
She remembered how he stood in front of the family again just days ago. How he spoke nonsense about forming a guild in a ruined world, handed her a vial like it was candy, and said nothing about the pain that would come after.
She remembered him trusting her—not protecting, not sheltering, not hiding her away.
He gave her the chance to be strong.
Bitna's trembling stopped.
She opened her eyes in the dream. The ashes around her began to glow faintly—like embers waiting to spark.
And she whispered, "I'm not weak."
The world shook.
The nightmare cracked.
In the real world, her eyelids twitched. Her breath steadied. Her body still hurt, but the numbness was gone.
And deep in her soul, something had changed.
Not awakened like the flashy awakenings you see in system messages or glowing circles.
No.
This was quieter. More grounded. It didn't need a system window.
Bitna had reclaimed herself.
She would never forget Tae-yang.She would never stop loving her siblings.But she would never let the world shatter her again.
-
Eora's world had dissolved into pain.
The moment the dark vial touched her lips, a bitter, metallic taste coated her tongue — like swallowing liquid moonlight laced with rust. Her body seized. Every nerve lit up like it was being rewired. Her muscles clenched, her bones ached as though they were being stretched and melted at the same time. She dropped to her knees with a gasp, her fingers clawing at the dungeon floor.
She couldn't see. Not really.But suddenly — she could feel.
The darkness around her cracked, not with light, but with presence. A vast expanse bloomed in her mind: a plain of endless night, soft and silent. There, she stood — barefoot, fragile, clothed in nothing but memories.
The stars above pulsed like heartbeats.
And standing in front of her…A girl.
No older than ten. Bare feet, dusty face. Eyes sewn shut with shimmering thread. Her voice echoed like a whisper inside a cave:
"Why did you leave me here?"
Eora staggered back. "W-Who…?"
The child didn't move.Just tilted her head.
"You promised. You said we'd see light again. But you stayed in the dark."
The dream twisted.Scenes unfolded like broken film reels:
— The moment Eora lost her sight.— Her screaming.— The days she curled up in corners pretending she didn't exist.— The others talking around her like she was invisible.— The men who offered power… and took it back.— Her own voice, quietly begging to not be a burden.
The child's eyes bled through the thread. "You gave up."
"No…" Eora whispered, shaking. "I didn't give up. I survived."
"But you never fought for yourself."
The child took a step forward. Another. Eora wanted to run, but her feet wouldn't move.
Then the girl lifted her hand and pressed it gently to Eora's chest.
"The light isn't out there," she said."It's in here. It always was."
And then —
A searing heat burst through Eora's ribcage. Not pain. Power.
The stars above blinked.The plain shattered.
And Eora opened her eyes — not just eyes but sight — light and color crashing into her retinas like a wave.
She gasped. Cried out. Her fingers clutched the ground.
But even as tears streamed down her cheeks from the intensity, she was smiling. Wide. Wild. Broken. Joyous.
Kim Byeol-ha, watching from his moss-covered rock, gave her a nod like he'd seen it all before.
"You found your light," he murmured. "Took you long enough."
Eora couldn't speak yet. Her throat was raw, her heart beating out of rhythm.
But her smile —That said everything.