Nightmare

It wasn't only the swordsmanship gallery that had gone up in flames.

.

.

.

Average viewership: roughly three thousand.

Even in Streamer Ara's gallery — a community of no small size — the rumor mill about Haneul had begun to turn.

The blood-red sky shattered like glass. What lay beyond it wasn't a clear blue expanse, but a pure white void.

My senses, stretched to their absolute limit, caught nothing anymore. Not the soldiers who'd been fighting the boss. Not the ruined city. Not the trash mobs scattered across the field.

Maybe that was why.

"Am I... dead...?"

The thought slipped out before I could stop it.

I could see nothing. Feel nothing. I wrung every drop of power I had into spreading my senses wide, but nothing registered.

"...How did this happen?"

Something was wrong.

I hate saying this about myself, but I'm fairly sharp. I still remember the name of every person who died beside me — from the lowest-ranking soldiers to the officers.

And yet I couldn't remember how I had died.

I'd been fighting the boss until a moment ago. Support had arrived and I'd fallen back. I'd been talking with that rookie I'd been dragging around, and then...

"Ugh...!?"

My head throbbed. I pressed my fingers to the corner of my eye and sank to the ground. The moment I tried to dig up the memory, pain flooded in like an overloaded circuit.

Even so, I didn't stop thinking.

Dead people can't feel pain.

This agony was proof that I was still alive.

My last clear memory was the conversation with the rookie.

I'd told him not to trust people too easily, and then thanked him for coming to help anyway. The feeling of his hand still lingered at my fingertips.

And after that...

.

.

.

Right. A translucent window like this had appeared.

Status windows don't exist in reality. I still remember shouting for a status screen right after I possessed this body and getting treated like a lunatic for it.

Which meant this place wasn't real.

Only then did the status window floating in front of me finally register properly. Everything that had felt so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠real only moments ago — all of it was fake.

The terrifying boss. The searing wounds. And... this white space itself.

The instant that thought fully formed, a dizzying freefall seized me, and my consciousness sank into darkness.

"Ah..."

A familiar voice reached me.

It was the last thing my sister had said to me, three years ago, beneath the chaotic night sky over Vladivostok.

"Has it already been three years?"

"Yeah. Time... really does fly."

So everything that came after this would be pure delusion.

My uselessly good brain, prying open memories of my sister that I'd barely sealed away on the far side of recollection, and spinning them into something both longed for and terrifying.

"So — are you living happily?"

"...Yeah."

I forced myself to nod.

I didn't know if someone who hadn't managed to protect anyone had any right to be happy. But my sister had told me to live happily.

So I had to. I had no choice.

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Siberia War is over. Just like I always wanted — I'm living quietly, in a peaceful place."

"Heh. That's a relief."

The person who taught me the warmth of family. Who taught me love. Who kept me standing on that nightmare of a battlefield.

The radiant one who declared she'd protect everyone. The magnificent one who was always first onto the field and last to leave it. The person I looked up to more than anyone.

I had survived by devouring that person's life.

And with that on my conscience, I couldn't ignore her request.

"I, uh — I started streaming a little while ago?"

"Streaming?"

"Internet streaming. We used to watch that stuff when we had nothing to do, remember? Turns out it's pretty fun once you try it."

"I see. I'm glad you look happy."

"Yeah. So..."

"You abandoned us and ran, and now you're living happily? Captain?"

That was when the second voice arrived. Eerie, clinging, sickening — and yet so familiar I couldn't simply hate it.

"Ugh...!?"

"Because of you, I lost my family."

"The person I loved died to save you."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"If you'd just rested a little less, my son would still be alive."

Next came the voices of the bereaved families, circling my ears. Voices thick with grief that made goosebumps rise along my skin without my permission.

I clapped my hands over my ears on reflex, but covering your ears in a dream never stops the sound. From out of the darkness, pitch-black hands reached toward me.

"D-don't leave me behind!"

"Please help me! My kids are waiting for me at home!"

"I don't want to die! Take me with you!"

And finally — the screams of the wounded soldiers we'd abandoned. The ones we'd had no choice but to leave behind during the retreat, so the monsters wouldn't catch us all.

Slap. Something sticky seized my ankle. I kicked hard on instinct, trying to shake it off, but a grip dense with resentment and malice didn't come free that easily.

There was nothing I could do.

This was the price of how weak I had once been.

"Unnie, please take me with you!"

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

At sixteen, I had no choice but to abandon the little girl who clung desperately to my ankle.

The self-destructing bugs were closing in.

If I didn't run, I would die.

Back then I didn't have the strength to carry her and run, nor the swordsmanship to cut every last bug down.

So I had to shake off that desperate hand.

"You fucking bitch — you're fine as long as you survive alone!?"

"I'll curse you! I'll curse you even after I'm dead!"

I left a child younger than myself behind, gritted my teeth against the curses raining down on me, and turned my back.

In my memory, the girl's screams didn't last long.

BWOOOOOOM—!

Because a bug came shrieking in on those unholy wings, settled onto the fallen girl, and detonated.

The sensation of human remains hitting my back was something I could never forget.

"You survived like that — and now you want to be happy?"

"Ah..."

"I said I'd curse you, didn't I? Even after death. Forever. Kyahahahat!"

A horrifying touch crawled up my back.

"You kicked a little kid aside and ran, and now you want to live happily alone? You think I'll just let that happen?"

As if trying to drag that day's memory to the surface, something soft and wet pressed against my back. Goosebumps exploded across my skin and I thrashed on pure reflex.

"Don't leave me..."

"I want to live..."

"Because of you..."

"Kyaah!?"

That was when the black hands swarmed over my body. The clinging memories clamped down on every thrash of desperation. The ground turned to swamp, and I began to sink.

"N-no!"

Instinctive revulsion surged up.

If I couldn't shake these hands free, I wouldn't wake up. I'd sink into a deep sleep and be trapped in a terrible nightmare — that was what instinct was screaming at me.

So I stretched my hand toward the place my sister's voice had come from.

Because I thought if it was her, she would help someone like me.

"Haneul. Didn't you say you were happy?"

But what came back was a voice gone cold. The hand I'd reached toward my sister was dragged down by sticky grips rising from below.

"All your sister wanted — the thing she gave her life for — was your happiness. And Haneul can't even manage that? What a fool you are."

"Ah... no! I am happy!"

The tone of the voice turned chilling.

Around the time I realized something was going wrong, a wet, overlapping voice rose behind me. A dissonant chorus of many people blended into one.

"You think you deserve that?"

"We'll curse you forever."

"Every time you're happy, we'll appear and tear you apart."

"...Ah."

The hand I'd forced out was shoved back down. Before I knew it, my entire body was buried under black malice.

And still, I couldn't bring myself to resist.

"What do you want me to do..."

To keep my sister's sacrifice from being wasted, I had to be happy.

A fake hero who abandoned people and survived alone had no right to happiness.

Pinned between those two obsessions, I'd lost the path entirely.

"Heh-hahat..."

It was no situation for laughter, and yet a hollow laugh slipped out of me. Because only now did I feel I truly understood the position I was in.

"Yeah. Someone like me... was never going to get to be happy, was I..."

This future had been sealed the moment I abandoned a child younger than myself and ran. Losing the people I loved, living like this — all of it was the price I had to pay.

I emptied my heart around that thought.

Even the sight of myself thrashing uselessly looked ugly, so I couldn't struggle anymore.

And just as my body was about to sink into the deep sea—

"No. Haneul is someone who deserves to be happy."

A voice reached me from far away, and every direction filled with warm light.