Seoul hadn't changed.
That was the problem.
Neon signs still flickered above narrow streets. Cars passed, people laughed, lives continued—oblivious to the fact that the rules of existence had shifted for one person alone.
Kang Seung-ho stood in the shadow of a closed convenience store, rain dripping from his hair, unmoving.
Seven.
The word echoed in his mind like a fracture spreading through glass.
Seven authorities.Seven endings.All watching him.
He looked at the people walking past the street corner—students, office workers, couples arguing quietly. None of them could feel it. None of them could sense the pressure pressing against the edge of reality.
They don't know, he thought. They can't know.
A chill crept up his spine.
For the first time since returning, Seung-ho felt something deeper than fear.
Isolation.
The system didn't announce itself immediately.
No glowing screen.No instructions.
Only silence.
He entered an abandoned apartment building several blocks away, climbing the stairs until he reached the top floor. The door to the last unit was already broken—wood splintered, hinges rusted.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old mold.
Seung-ho locked the door anyway.
The small room felt safer with his back against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. His heart refused to slow.
I'm alone.
Not just in the city.
In existence.
A faint pulse flickered at the edge of his vision.
[System Status: Active] User Recognition: Confirmed External Observation: Detected (Passive)
His breath hitched.
"Observation…?"
He scanned the room instinctively, shadows stretching across cracked walls. Nothing moved.
The system didn't clarify.
Seung-ho swallowed hard. "They're watching… but not acting."
Yet.
His gaze fell to his hands.
They were steady.
Too steady.
He flexed his fingers, feeling strength coiled beneath his skin—unnatural, restrained. When he pressed his palm against the concrete wall and applied pressure, the surface cracked with a dull crunch.
Seung-ho froze.
"…That's not normal."
Another window appeared, almost reluctantly.
[Attribute Overview – Limited Access] Strength: E+ Agility: E Endurance: E Mental Resistance: D- Synchronization Rate: 17%
His eyes widened.
"These… are mine?"
No answer.
He stood slowly, testing his weight, his balance. Each movement felt precise, as if his body responded before thought formed.
He took a step.
Then another.
The shadow beneath his feet shifted subtly.
Something tugged at his awareness.
Shadow…
The word surfaced unbidden.
When he focused on it, the system responded.
[Ability Available] Skill: Shadow Step (Locked) Condition: Mental Stabilization Required
Locked.
Seung-ho clenched his fists. "You expect me to be calm after that?"
Silence.
He laughed weakly, dragging a hand through his hair.
"I can't even run."
The weight of it settled slowly.
He couldn't return to school.Couldn't sit in class.Couldn't pretend the world was normal.
Every face felt fragile now. Every life temporary.
The system pulsed faintly.
[Notice] User Isolation Detected. Adaptive Growth Condition Met.
His vision blurred.
"Isolation… makes me stronger?"
That terrified him more than anything Death had said.
He backed away from the window, shadows stretching to meet him.
"If I keep walking this path," he whispered, "there won't be a way back."
No response.
Only a final message appeared.
[Next Objective Pending] Survive.
Seung-ho sank into the darkness of the room, the city's noise fading into something distant and unreal.
Somewhere beyond reality—
Seven authorities continued to watch.
And for the first time, Kang Seung-ho began to understand the true cost of being unique.