Adil opened his eyes, breathing heavily. Most importantly, he was alive. "Where am I?" he muttered, scanning the distorted room swallowed in shadow. The ceiling light flickered weakly, casting uneven bars of light across the walls. Ahead, a gate loomed like a prison door, its iron bars rusted and stained.
The floor was wet and sticky, black liquid pooling like sewage and soaking into his uniform. The walls were bare concrete, cracked and damp, with faint streaks running down as if water had seeped for years. A single chain hung loosely from the ceiling, swaying with each flicker of the light.
He tried to stand, but his foot slipped on the slick floor, sending him crashing hard onto his back. The cold surface pressed against him, and for a moment, it felt as though the room itself was holding him down.
The door burst open, and a massive figure stepped through, cloaked in black. The hood hung low, hiding most of his face except for two faintly glowing purple eyes that pierced the gloom. His presence filled the room like a shadow given form. Rusted chains dangled from his left arm, clinking softly with each movement, and the air around him seemed to grow heavier.
On his chest, Adil noticed an embroidered symbol — a single golden eye stitched into the fabric, its slit pupil surrounded by jagged rays. It didn't glow or move, yet something about it unsettled him. It was just a design, but it felt wrong, as if it carried a weight he couldn't explain.
"Get out, Number 999," the figure commanded, his voice deep and resonant, echoing off the concrete walls.
Adil rose cautiously, fists clenched, keeping his distance. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest.
'What is this place? Did I transmigrate like in those novels? No… that's absurd. But it feels too real to be a dream.'
The figure raised its hand, purple energy radiating from it. Chains materialized around Adil's wrists, dragging him to the ground under their crushing weight.
TACK!
Adil's face slammed against the floor, blood dripping from his nose. The figure raised its hand again, purple light glowing brighter, and the weight of the chains eased. Adil staggered to his feet, though his hands remained bound.
"Follow me," the cloaked man said, turning away.
'This isn't a dream. I'll have to play along.' Adil finally understood — it was a twisted reality. He hadn't transmigrated into another body like the clichés; he was still himself, it's more like he was summon. That alone was unusual. And this world… apocalyptic? Something else entirely? The information was insufficient. But the main question was why he was here and what would come next.
Adil trailed behind the cloaked man, his footsteps echoing in the narrow corridor. The walls pressed close, scarred with deep gouges as if claws had raked them long ago. Rusted pipes lined the ceiling, dripping foul water that splattered onto the slick floor, each drop ringing like a clock counting down. The stench of mold and iron clung to the air, burning his throat with every breath.
Chains dangled from hooks embedded in the walls, swaying gently though no wind stirred. Their metallic clinks blended with the steady drag of the figure's own chains, creating a rhythm that gnawed at Adil's nerves. The flickering bulb overhead threw jagged shadows across the concrete, and in those shifting shapes he thought he saw movement — figures watching, waiting —, but when he turned, there was only emptiness.
The silence pressed down on him like a weight. "Uh… big guy, do you know where I am?" Adil asked, shrugging his shoulders, trying to pry out some information. "Hey, I'm talking to you."
The figure gave no reply. Adil wondered if he was some puppet, only obeying his master's commands.
At the corridor's dead end, the figure turned to face him. A hand mark appeared on the wall, glowing faintly. "Place your hand on it," the figure ordered.
Adil hesitated, then pressed his palm against it. His vision was filled with corrupted symbols:
[System]
[∑∑∑∑∑∑∑∑∑∑]
(shfw jdsdjidwj jdij dnwowidowqfq) ###@@@!!!???///\\\∂∂∂∂∂∂ (0000—9999—ERROR—999—0000) ⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗ «¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬» [corrupt…corrupt…corrupt…]
Adil blinked, unsettled. "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"
The cloaked figure's reaction was unpleasant — his head tilted unnaturally, eyes narrowing with a twisted glare, as if savoring Adil's confusion. He didn't answer. Instead, he gestured toward a hole in the wall, its edges jagged and dripping with damp shadow. "Enter," he said in the same heavy tone. The chains binding Adil's hands vanished.
"Really? Why would I?" Adil muttered, trying to mask his unease. The figure's silent stare made his chest tighten. "Okay, chill… I'm going," he grumbled, stepping toward the hole.
Suddenly—SMACK! The figure kicked him hard from behind, sending him tumbling into the darkness. "Damn you—ahhh!" Adil screamed as he fell deeper, swallowed by the cave's shadows.
Slowly, light erupted from the endless tunnel. He fell out and hit the ground, dust rising around him. Lying on the floor, he wondered what was happening. 'How many times have I fallen today?'
He found himself in his classroom, but something was wrong. The walls, desks, and the entire room had dissolved into shadows, dark particles drifting like smoke through the air.
Through the cracked window, the outside world was unrecognizable. The city had been swallowed by thick mist, its buildings reduced to ghostly silhouettes. Pale spirits wandered in the fog, their translucent forms flickering like dying embers. No sound reached from beyond — only silence and the slow churn of shadow. On the blackboard, text glowed in an unknown language.
What is that… Is it some ancient language? He thought. Driven by curiosity, he reached out, and the moment his finger touched the board, a sharp current jolted through his body. He stumbled back quickly.
"Ughh…" He staggered, clutching his head as voices, symbols, and fragments of knowledge forced themselves into his mind. The storm of information threatened to tear him apart — then, just as suddenly, it went silent. His heart raced, his breath shallow, but he managed to stand. When he looked at the board again, the language that had once felt alien was now readable; he could understand it.