In the darkness of the night, standing atop a bridge where countless cars passed beneath glowing streetlights, there was a young man.
The pale lights above pushed back the shadows, but only barely. People crossed the bridge constantly. Some walked in silence with tired expressions while others laughed loudly, speaking about meaningless things that would soon be forgotten.
Below the bridge, the dark river moved slowly.
Its waters reflected fragments of the city lights, twisting them into distorted shapes that vanished with every ripple.
In the middle of all that noise and movement stood a twenty-year-old young man.
He wore a black suit.
Round glasses rested on his face, slightly crooked because of the strong wind that pushed against him. His black hair swayed gently while his empty eyes stared directly toward the river below.
Despite the darkness surrounding everything...
...he could see a light.
Not a literal light.
Something else.
Something that made the hopelessness inside his dead eyes tremble faintly.
For the first time in a very long time, he looked alive.
Slowly, he opened his arms.
The wind intensified, causing his suit to flutter violently behind him.
A smile appeared across his pale face.
"Freedom..." he whispered softly. "A true freedom... not a fake one."
The city behind him continued moving as if he did not exist.
Cars passed.
People walked.
Someone laughed.
Someone complained about work.
Someone checked their phone.
Someone spoke about tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Such a meaningless word.
His smile widened slightly.
"I'm trapped among trash..." he murmured. "And that trash... they all think they're free."
His fingers trembled slightly as he tightened them.
"But they aren't."
His voice became colder.
"They're slaves."
A silence filled his mind.
Then he laughed quietly.
Not because something was funny.
But because he genuinely pitied them.
"Slaves to achievements."
Achievements.
Money.
Recognition.
Dreams.
Relationships.
Titles.
Conquests.
Everything felt hollow.
Empty.
People spent their entire lives chasing things that would disappear someday anyway.
They worked endlessly.
They lied.
They betrayed.
They suffered.
All to feel important for a brief moment before death swallowed them whole.
So what was the point?
Why continue living inside a world like that?
Why continue breathing?
Why continue pretending?
His eyes drifted downward toward the dark river.
The water moved slowly beneath the bridge like an endless abyss waiting patiently for him.
And strangely enough...
...it looked comforting.
His empty eyes brightened slightly.
Why was he still here?
Why keep enduring a life that felt rotten from the inside out?
He had already reached his conclusion long ago.
There was no salvation in life.
No freedom in society.
No peace among humanity.
Only chains.
Invisible chains.
The chains of desire.
The chains of fear.
The chains of expectations.
And he was tired.
So unbelievably tired.
The wind howled loudly around him.
Then slowly...
...he climbed onto the railing.
Several people in the distance glanced toward him briefly but quickly ignored him.
Nobody cared.
Nobody truly noticed anyone else.
That realization almost made him laugh again.
Standing above the void, he closed his eyes for a moment.
The cold air struck his face.
His heart beat calmly.
There was no hesitation.
No fear.
Only relief.
True freedom... exists in death.
That was his final thought before his body tilted forward.
And then...
...he jumped.
The wind roared violently in his ears.
For a brief second he felt weightless.
Free.
Actually free.
A genuine smile appeared on his face.
Then his body collided with the black water below.
The freezing river swallowed him instantly.
The impact shattered his senses.
Cold water invaded his lungs.
Darkness consumed his vision.
The pressure tightened around his body like countless invisible hands dragging him deeper and deeper.
His consciousness faded.
The last thing he felt...
...was peace.
And then everything disappeared.
Ten years later.
He stood there once again.
But now...
...his body was smaller.
Younger.
Surrounded by enormous trees that stretched endlessly toward the sky.
The forest was silent.
Too silent.
His black eyes stared emptily into the distance while the cold wind moved through the leaves above him.
There was no confusion on his face.
Only exhaustion.
An exhaustion far deeper than death itself.
His lips parted slowly.
"Does freedom not exist?" he whispered.
His voice sounded hollow.
"Even after death?"
The forest trembled.
The trees around him slowly began turning red.
At first it looked like paint spreading across the bark.
Then the color darkened.
Blood.
The trunks looked soaked in blood.
The ground beneath him became soft and wet.
A terrible smell filled the air.
Rotten flesh.
Decay.
Death.
His expression remained empty.
Then suddenly...
...hands emerged from the earth.
Pale hands.
Rotting hands made of decomposing flesh grabbed his legs violently.
More hands followed.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
The sound of desperate screams echoed through the forest.
Voices filled with despair mixed together with monstrous roars of hatred.
The air became suffocating.
The ground beneath him pulsed like living flesh.
Yet even while being dragged downward...
...the young boy smiled.
It was not a happy smile.
It was the smile of someone who had finally understood something horrible.
"No..." he muttered softly.
"This isn't a second chance."
The screams intensified around him.
The rotten hands tightened their grip.
The dark water from his memories suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
Before, it had felt comforting.
Now...
...it felt suffocating.
Like invisible chains wrapping around his chest.
The boy slowly lowered his head.
A hollow smile remained on his face.
"Yes..."
His dead eyes reflected the blood-red forest surrounding him.
"This is my purgatory."