Lost in a haze, I drifted into sleep.
My body felt weightless, floating in endless darkness—not just this world, but only darkness, even in dreams, there was nothing but black.
Though this feeling was strangely comforting, I still wished that my dreams would show me a glimmer of light. I’d thought this countless times—everything here was just too stifling.
I curled up quietly, and this sensation had begun to disgust me. Especially after what happened with Lee Gee yesterday, my heart felt unbearably heavy.
“Will we die here in the darkness, just like Lee Gee?”
My only hope in this place is Rachel Lan. Without her, I can’t imagine how I’d survive the days ahead.
“Ethan.”
A voice echoed through the darkness—mature and calm. I must be dreaming. I searched everywhere, but found nothing.
“Still can’t remember?”
The voice spoke again.
"What do you remember?"
Suddenly, fragmented images flashed through my mind, like a film rapidly rewinding.
I jolted awake, my hand raised, panting as I stared at my surroundings—there was nothing. It really was just a dream.
"What's wrong with me?"
I muttered, and as I turned my head, my eyes widened. Rachel Lan was surrounded by a black aura. I could see her pale face, teeth clenched in pain, then she suddenly started coughing violently.
I gently patted Rachel’s back, and after a while, she fell back asleep, still looking unwell. It reminded me of Lee Gee. I swallowed and wiped the sweat from my brow.
In the shop, I watched Rachel absentmindedly. She was busy, cleaning the tables since there weren’t many customers. I sat quietly by the sink, staring at the dark water.
Everything here seemed normal, but it felt unbearably difficult. Everything was familiar yet strange—this wasn’t the life I wanted.
Suddenly, that thought popped into my head. I swallowed, clutching my forehead as dizziness swept over me. I widened my eyes, realizing I’d collapsed onto the cold ground. Rachel was crying out.
"It's okay, Rachel, it's okay."
A deep, booming voice echoed through the darkness. Alarmed, I turned to look—a burly figure was drifting slowly toward me. I pinched my own cheek hard, but felt nothing. It was as if I were trapped in a dream.
"This is not a dream."
The figure spoke, then suddenly grabbed my arm. Before I could react, he pulled me along, floating through the pitch-black space.
"What are you doing?"
After a while, the figure finally stopped.
"This is the Edge of the Unreal."
"What does that mean?"
"Still can't remember?"
I stared at the figure in confusion. He chuckled softly.
"If you still can't remember, you'll disappear—everything that makes you Ethan Zhang."