He finished the last quest just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
The screen dimmed, victory music fading out, and he let the phone fall onto the mattress beside him. Reaching for it again out of habit, he checked the time.
8:03 p.m.
"…Guess I should eat."
Cooking was out of the question. It always was. He slipped on his sandals, left the hostel room, and returned a short while later with his usual—cheap, filling, and familiar. After eating, he lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Should he keep playing?
Or maybe read?
His eyes drifted toward the stack of books beside his pillow. After a moment, he reached for one, propped it open, and began to read.
He didn't remember falling asleep.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer on his bed.
He was standing.
The floor beneath him was smooth and white. Not polished, not reflective—just… there. The same white stretched endlessly in every direction, with no visible walls or ceiling.
And he wasn't alone.
People stood scattered around the space, frozen in confusion. A quick glance told him there were many of them—forty, maybe. Most looked young. Teenagers in school uniforms. College students still wearing backpacks. Others were older—adults with worn expressions, a man who looked like a doctor, and a few who carried themselves like teachers.
Twenty-seven of them, at least, looked between sixteen and twenty. The rest were clearly adults.
"…Yeah," he muttered quietly. "Either I'm dreaming… or this is one of those situations."
An empty white room.
Random strangers.
As an avid reader, he already knew the usual next step.
A goddess will appear.
She'll shine.
She'll ask us to save her world.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
No light.
No voice.
No presence pressing down on the air.
The space remained silent except for the growing murmur of voices as others began to panic, whisper, or argue.
He waited a little longer.
Ten seconds.
Maybe twenty.
When nothing changed, he sighed.
"…Figures."
If this were really something important, something would've happened already. That was how these things usually went.
Losing interest, he walked away from the cluster of people, stopping near what felt like the edge of the space—even though there was no wall. He sat down, leaned back against nothing, and closed his eyes.
Not to think.
Not to prepare.
Just to wait.
If this was a dream, he'd wake up eventually.
If it wasn't, then whatever brought him here would make itself known sooner or later.
Around him, fear continued to spread. Someone raised their voice. Someone else started crying.
He ignored all of it.
With his eyes closed and his breathing steady, he waited.
Whatever this was…
It wasn't his problem yet.
As he sat there with his eyes closed, something surfaced.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Just… a missing piece clicking into place.
"…Ah."
The sound slipped out before he could stop it. Not loud—more like the sound someone made when they finally remembered why they'd walked into a room.
His eyes snapped open.
"Oh."
Images came back in fragments.
The whirring sound above his bed.
The faint creak he'd ignored for weeks.
The way the ceiling fan had shaken that afternoon.
I told them to fix it.
He remembered sending the message. Remembered speaking to the hostel manager. Remembered being told it would be "handled soon."
Soon never came.
"…That damn fan."
He let out a short, incredulous laugh, then rubbed his face with both hands.
So that was it.
No truck.
No heart attack.
No dramatic final words.
Just bad maintenance and worse luck.
The realization settled over him strangely—not heavy, not light. Just… there.
"So I died," he muttered.
That explained the white space. The strangers. The silence waiting to be broken.
He leaned his head back again, staring at nothing.
"…Figures."
If this was the afterlife, it was disappointingly minimal.
And if something was about to appear—a goddess, a system, or whatever came next—then at least now he knew why he was here.
Dead because a ceiling fan fell on him.
He closed his eyes again.
Just accepting it.
"So I died."
The words came out quietly, almost flat.
With that realization settled, he turned his head and looked at the people around him again.
Forty of them.
All alive. All breathing. All confused.
Did everyone here die too?
The thought didn't feel strange. If he was here because he died, then this place probably wasn't exclusive to him. But looking at them, none of them seemed to realize it. No one was mourning. No one looked like they had just lost their life.
Most of them were still waiting for something to happen.
Then another thought followed.
They probably haven't remembered yet.
He hadn't remembered immediately either. It only came back after he stopped thinking, after he sat down, after everything quieted.
Maybe death didn't come with an announcement.
Maybe it came when your mind finally slowed down enough to accept it.
He was about to think further—
When the air shifted.
Not violently. Not suddenly.
Just… heavier.
Light began to gather above them, spreading across the white space like mist being pulled into a single point. Conversations stopped. Panic died mid-sentence. Even breathing seemed louder.
Then she descended.
A woman with long, flowing blonde hair stepped down from the light itself, dressed in a white, godly garment that didn't look sewn, but formed. Like it existed because it was allowed to.
Her chest was full—two huge assets clearly outlined beneath the divine cloth—yet the holiness radiating from her was so overwhelming that staring at the twin peaks between her chest felt wrong. Not embarrassing.
Wrong.
As though the thought itself would be burned away before it could settle.
She hovered above them, light spilling around her feet, and calmly scanned the hall.
Every person.
One by one.
Some people dropped to their knees immediately. Others froze. A few stared openly, overwhelmed by her presence.
He stayed seated.
Watching.
So this was it.
The shining goddess. The explanation. The reason.
When she finally spoke, her voice echoed gently through the space, neither loud nor soft, but impossible to ignore.
"Welcome, children of another world," she said, "you have been summoned."
And just like that—
The silence broke.