I used to be healthy.
A normal teen living a normal life.
I liked sports, joined tournaments, and my grades never faltered since I was academically gifted too.
Maybe because I was too successful, fate decided to play a prank on me.
One day, I developed a terminal illness.
There was no cure — they said I was the only one who had it.
They even let me name it.
What did I call it again?
Ah… ligma.
After that, my life revolved around the beeping of machines and the smell of disinfectant.
The hospital became my entire world — white walls, white sheets, white skies outside the window.
When it rained, I'd count the droplets sliding down the glass, pretending they were racing each other. That was the closest thing I had to excitement.
Visitors came less and less. Classmates stopped first. Then friends. Then even my parents, who always looked so tired.
Only my older brother kept visiting — quiet, awkward, but always there.
"You look bored," he'd say, handing me something random — a comic, a snack, sometimes just silence.
One day, he brought a game.
"You can't move around out there," he said, "so move around in here instead."
That's how I first touched it.
They called it E.F.O — Eternal Fate Online.
A full-dive VRMMO that blurred the line between fiction and reality.
Combat was fluid, the world immense, but what made it special was its soul.
Every choice mattered.
Even buying the last loaf of bread could make someone starve that day.
The world remembered you — every lie, betrayal, or act of kindness left a scar that changed the story.
It had 245 endings, all of them tragic.
A game with no happy endings — and yet over 345 million people still played it.
At first, I was one of them — just playing to pass time, to escape my dying body.
Until I met them — the Hopeless Characters.
NPCs destined to suffer no matter what you did.
I don't know why, but I wanted to save them. Maybe I saw myself in their struggle.
And among them… there was Clare, the Icebound Witch.
Half-human, half-elemental. Beautiful, brilliant — and doomed to die.
I spent years trying to save her. Every route, every theory, every hidden flag — I knew them all.
But every time, I failed.
Still, I couldn't stop.
Because while my real body weakened, she gave me a reason to keep fighting.
Her will to live, her refusal to bend to death — it was intoxicating.
Somewhere along the way, I fell for her.
Even as frost slowly consumed her heart, I never stopped trying.
They said I had four years left to live — but those years, spent fighting for her, were the best of my life.
We were both dancing on the thin line between life and death — and in that fragile balance, we felt invincible.
She became my first love.
Then came the final night.
[New Game — Playthrough #573]
Clare lay in the snow, frost creeping up her body.
Her trembling hand reached toward me.
"Nam… don't blame yourself."
"I'm fine."
Her voice was faint, like wind on glass.
"If only I trusted you sooner…"
Her arm turned to ice, fracturing like glass.
"Stop talking," I whispered. "Please…"
"I'm sorry," she smiled weakly, "but I'm grateful. You stayed with me until the end."
Then she was gone.
The screen dimmed.
[GAME OVER]
I slammed the desk.
"F*ck!"
The cup beside me fell, spilling coffee across my notes.
"I did everything right! Why does it always end like this?!"
I stared at the frozen image of Clare — her last smile burned into my memory.
"If only I had more time… I could definitely save her…"
Even knowing it was pointless, I recorded everything I knew into a secret archive.
My body was failing, but I didn't care.
---
As years passed, I somewhat lost hope.
I barely even remembered the game.
The only remnant I had left was an old, worn-out notebook — the one containing all my years of research.
Just when I thought I'd found my last hope, I ran out of time.
My illness had grown beyond cure.
My lifespan had long reached its end.
If I had a regret… it was her.
Even as my life faded away, even when her name escaped my memory, I still wanted to cling to that single thread of hope — that one day, I could log in again.
Ting.
A notification appeared on my screen.
I blinked.
The sender's name made my heart stop.
[T.O.W.K]
Wait— wasn't that the developer's tag?
He never replied to anyone, no matter how many messages he got.
I clicked the message.
> "I've been watching your playthroughs for years.
You never gave up, even when everyone else did.
I want to give you one final chance — one last playthrough.
This time, I'll be watching too."
[Would you like to retry?]
I chuckled weakly.
"That's dumb," I murmured.
"Of course I would."
A download link appeared.
Without hesitation, I clicked it.
The game reinstalled faster than it should have.
I logged into my old account.
The familiar melody of the title screen filled the room.
My trembling hand reached for the controller.
"Welcome back," the game whispered.
The time on the corner of the screen read November 10 — 12:03 AM.
That was the moment Nam Gi Won died.
-----
✦ End of Chapter..