For a moment, I couldn't move.
Do-hyun stood in the middle of the distorted street like a single sharp line drawn through a blurred painting — the only real person in a world that had forgotten how to exist.
The sky rippled overhead, glitching between shades of pale blue and deep code-black. The buildings flickered, outlines stuttering. People passed us with blank, smooth faces, walking on loops like broken animations.
But Do-hyun… Do-hyun was real.Too real.
His chest rose and fell. His eyes — dark, sharp, full of a hundred questions — locked onto mine as if he needed confirmation that I wasn't just another hallucination.
"Jiho."
He said my name quietly, but the world reacted to it.The air trembled.The sky glitched.Reality rippled outward in a perfect circle, as if his voice carried authority over the simulation.
My feet moved before I could think.One step.Two.Three.
We stopped an arm's length apart.
He breathed in slowly, like he was bracing himself."You crossed layers."
"You called me," I whispered. "I followed."
He let out a shaky exhale — half relief, half disbelief. "I didn't know if it would work. Or if I was losing my mind."
"You're not," I said. "This is real. As real as anything here can be."
Do-hyun's gaze flicked over me, searching — for injuries, for glitches, for anything wrong.His jaw tightened.
"You look…"He stopped himself, shook his head."It doesn't matter. You're here."
But his hand twitched at his side — like he had to stop himself from reaching out and checking if I was solid.
Before I could speak, the world around us jerked.The crowd of faceless people froze in place.Every head turned toward us at once.
Synchronously.Unnaturally.
Do-hyun grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him without hesitation.
"Don't look at them," he muttered.His voice was low, controlled — but I could feel the tension in it."They're not people. Not anymore."
I swallowed. "What are they?"
He exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing as the faceless figures began to step toward us, perfectly in sync.
"The system repopulated them after the last rewrite," he said. "But it's like it forgot how to finish the details. They're… placeholders."
Placeholders.Prototypes.
Not alive.Just narrative scaffolding that the system hadn't bothered to render completely.
A dull clicking sound echoed — dozens of footsteps tapping in unison.
Do-hyun shifted, positioning himself slightly in front of me by instinct.
That small gesture hit harder than it should have.
"Do-hyun," I said. "They're not hostile."
"They are," he said quietly. "Just not in the way you think."
As if on cue, the crowd opened their mouths—
And instead of voices, code spilled out.Fragmented white characters poured from their throats like smoke, forming twisted sentences.
[UNAUTHORIZED UNIT DETECTED.][OVERWRITE REQUIRED.][IDENTITY CONFLICT.][IDENTITY CONFLICT.][IDENTITY CONFLICT.]
Do-hyun flinched.I felt the grip on my wrist tighten.
"That message started appearing the moment you entered my layer," he said. "I wasn't sure what it meant."
"It means the system wants to erase me," I murmured. "Again."
Do-hyun turned sharply toward me, eyes burning."No."
The word cut through the glitching air like a blade.
"You're not disappearing again. Not while I'm here."
Before I could respond, the placeholders lunged.
Do-hyun moved first.
He pulled me behind him and swung his arm in a slicing motion — and a wall of glitching distortion erupted outward like a shockwave.The placeholders shattered into white fragments, dissolving into static before they hit the ground.
I stared. "You can manipulate the system."
His chest heaved once.A grim smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I've been practicing."
Something shifted behind his expression — pride, relief… and something darker. A determination built from countless resets he endured alone.
"Jiho," he said, voice lower. "This world didn't break on its own. It broke because of you. Because you started remembering."
He stepped closer.
"And when you started remembering…I did too."
My breath stopped.
Do-hyun reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notebook — warped, pages glitching like unstable textures.
He held it out to me.
"This appeared on my desk the second you crossed layers," he said. "Every time I hear your voice, a new page writes itself."
He opened to the last page.
And there — in handwriting that wasn't mine — was a single line:
"The story begins when he says my name."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Jiho," Do-hyun said softly. "The system is rewriting everything to keep us apart. So it must mean one thing."
He met my eyes.
"Together, we break it."
The sky flickered.The buildings trembled.The placeholders shrieked into code and dissolved.
The world burned white.
And then—
A new system message appeared in front of both of us.
[SYSTEM ALERT.][LAYER MERGING: IN PROGRESS.][CONVERGENCE POINT IDENTIFIED.]
Do-hyun grabbed my hand.
"Hold on."
The world shattered like glass.