Chapter 3
After coming back from that strange place, Hanyaseong hadn't breathed a word to anyone. He figured they'd call him a liar or say he was crazy. And who could blame him? What he'd gone through simply couldn't happen in the real world.
So he kept it to himself, not even telling the seniors in the mystery club. Or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to hoard it as his own secret. He didn't want to let anyone else in on the existence of that new world over there.
"Phew... I meant to prepare so much more..."
Hanyaseong let out a sigh. To go back there, he'd need serious prep. Training his stamina for exploration and adventure, brushing up on basic survival knowledge—that kind of stuff would actually help. But he'd always had the intention without the action. If he'd had that drive, he'd be living a standout life by now, not this ordinary one.
Like so many average folks, Hanyaseong was full of thoughts and plans but short on follow-through. He kept putting things off till later. That's why he was always stewing in worries.
But today felt different. Maybe it was the heavy gloom weighing on his heart. He just wanted to wing it, go with the flow. What was the point of this half-assed life anyway? Nothing impressive about it.
"Yeah. Let's do this."
Hanyaseong made up his mind and started packing. First, he yanked open the drawer and stuffed several lighters into his bag. Last time, he couldn't get a fire going and suffered for it. It was raining, freezing cold, and without flames, he'd nearly frozen to death overnight. That's when he learned just how precious fire was. He'd stocked up on lighters from the convenience store for the next trip.
He packed instant rice, ramen, a pot, spare clothes, even a blanket. No tent or sleeping bag at home, which sucked. He'd meant to buy some but kept delaying since there was no rush—or so he thought.
With his haphazard prep done, Hanyaseong opened the attic door. A faint glow leaked from inside. Just seeing it made him swallow hard.
A glowing space shimmered in the attic. He'd discovered it shortly after starting college, while sorting old high school books into boxes for storage up there.
"Huh? What's this?"
There'd been nothing like it before. Not when they moved in and stashed stuff in the attic. It was a brilliant light—but unlike anything in this world. Transparent, almost ethereal. Mystical was the word for it.
Hanyaseong stared blankly, drawn closer without realizing. It was too beautiful, too enchanting. The thought that it might harm him never crossed his mind. He reached out and touched it.
In that instant, his hand got sucked in, then his whole body followed.
"Wha—?!"
He tumbled to the ground, head bowed, and looked up to find himself somewhere utterly alien. Crumbling pillars dotted the landscape, surrounded by dense forest.
Hanyaseong thought it was a dream at first.
"Where the hell is this?"
He glanced around, baffled. He'd been in the attic moments ago. How'd he end up here? What was this place?
Hanyaseong's mind nearly shattered. Nothing like this had ever happened; he was completely lost.
He sat there pondering. Dream? Hallucination? It didn't feel real. No way to teleport from an attic to some random forest. And this forest was weird. Trees everywhere, but none he'd ever seen. Some towered nearly a hundred meters, others shimmered in rainbow hues—like something out of a fairy tale or fantasy.
The broken pillars were no joke either. Most were shattered, roots barely intact. Touching them, they weren't stone or concrete—something strange, like massive animal bones. But no animal had bones that huge. He shook his head.
"But how do I get home?"
That was the real issue. Where he was or why didn't matter—could he get back? No clue how. That attic light had brought him here, so maybe it'd reappear and take him home. But after waiting three or four hours, nothing.
Worse, he had nothing on him. Dressed light, the chill deepened as dusk fell. Then raindrops started pattering from the overcast sky. Night brought plummeting temps.
Shivering, Hanyaseong gathered dry branches to build a fire. Under a massive tree, an exposed root hollow offered shelter. He crammed in branches and rubbed sticks like he'd seen on survival shows.
But after one hour, two—no smoke.
"Ugh, this sucks..."
Starting a fire was brutal. His arms ached, hands blistered red from friction.
Full dark now, rain pounding harder. At least the root hollow kept it out. Still, the cold was unbearable.
"I'm gonna freeze..."
Hanyaseong huddled, teeth chattering. The forest amplified the chill. He tried again, rubbing for two more hours before rage made him quit. Fire-making tested every ounce of patience.
Exhausted, panting, cold, hungry, thirsty. He cupped rainwater in big leaves and sipped. Tasted fine—no pollution. He guzzled, refilled, quenched the thirst.
But water stirred deeper hunger, and the cold hit harder. Wrapping his arms around himself, he shivered violently. Needed cover, or he'd die for real.
He braved the rain, snapping nearby branches to block the entrance. After twenty minutes, a pile sealed it tight. Deeper in the root space now.
Soaked and frozen, his body quaked uncontrollably. Even still, teeth clacked, limbs trembled. Am I dying like this? Regret hit hard. Nothing accomplished, just pointless death. At least die after doing something. Pure futility.
In the pitch-black root hollow, consciousness faded. His head felt iced over; thoughts evaporated. Guess this is it... Bitter resignation was all that remained.
"Nngh..."
But he didn't die. Through a gap in the branch barricade, bright light filtered in. Dawn. The hollow lit up. And he saw why he'd survived.
"Huh?"
Dirt blanketed his body. In his desperation, he'd burrowed like a mole. Thick earth had been his blanket. Branches sealed the warmth in.
"Thank goodness..."
Lying in the soil, Hanyaseong exhaled in relief. Thought he was done for—grateful to be alive.
He sat up, crawled to the entrance. Daybreak outside, rain stopped, sun blazing.
Relief made his stomach growl louder.
Hanyaseong chuckled, shaking his head. Alive, and now starving. Funny.
Brushing off dirt, he thanked the root hollow.
"Thanks. You saved me."
Without that space, that soil, he'd be dead. Deeply grateful.
He cleared branches and stepped out. The forest gleamed fresh and pure.
"Nice."
Hanyaseong inhaled deeply, stretching. Body ached like he'd been beaten from camping rough, but mood was good. Survival mattered most.
He gathered dew from giant leaves and drank deeply. Glancing at the pillars where he'd arrived—no light yet. But it'd return eventually. He wouldn't be stuck forever.
Now, endure till then. And yeah, starving—time to hunt for food.