"Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light." — Brené Brown
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A pale young man in a deep slumber suddenly moved, burrowing his head into the fluffy pillows. His long white lashes quivered as a crystal-blue eye slowly emerged.
'Not again'
His brows frowned in irritation as the light shining directly on him momentarily blinded his vision.
Gradually adjusting his vision, a clear image of an old white ceiling appeared.
Instead of mirth, a faint sigh escaped from his pouty lips. Resignation was written on his once serene face.
"A dream. A room at that——."
He took a second look at the surroundings, but attentively this time. The bed creaked when he weakly propped himself on the bed, making the whole thing seemingly realistic.
His mind was playing tricks on him again, offering a bitter false hope.
He was on a warm bed with a wooden bedside cabinet and a towering dim lamp beside it. On his left, there was a small white sofa in front of a wall window covered with a black-out curtain.
'Very detailed this time, huh.'
The white-haired youth slowly sank back into the bed, drowning in misery.
Just as he was about to close his eyes for good, he noticed that the room was unlike his usual vivid daydreams.
He cautiously stood from the bed, but he slid down the floor, fortunately, with the soft pillows and thick blanket cushioning his body.
"Ah—" His voice stifled. The pain did not rouse him to reality.
'This is not true.'
His weary heart frantically pounded from the anticipation. The man anxiously looked around. He looked for anything that could validate his hopeful plea, until he saw it.
The somber eyes slowly filled with sparkle. Ignoring the commotion he caused, he moved towards the light from the curtain gaps.
Usually, the man saw nothing but darkness outside the window. Painfully reminding him that nothing but him was true.
'It is different this time.'
The man suddenly gasped in pain as blood streamed from his left hand. The dextrose drip attached to him had been removed abruptly, but he heeds no mind.
The entranced man revealed a tearful smile, "The S-sun."
He progressively went deadly pale and grew drowsy from the immense blood loss. His reddened eyes added more vulnerability to his frail figure.
After being trapped in darkness for so long to track the time, the view of the day which he had almost forgotten elicited the bottled-up sorrow.
He indulged himself to the delicate smell of trees, the rough surface of the window tickled his fingers, and the warmth of the bright sunlight.
"Th-this is real, right?" He was unable to shake the fear of illusion. "Or did I die?"
He was called Suran who suddenly transmigrated. The body he transferred into was also drowning in a cold liquid inside a cylinder tank. Likewise, he became trapped inside this peculiar body for a long time.
For years, he endured. And endured. And endured.
'Now, I am free.'
The sun began to hide behind the clouds. The sky was filled with the pink hue of the golden hour when a sense of disorientation suddenly crept into him.
His surroundings turned wavy and dark.
Before he knew it, he was already lying on the ground, desperately gasping for air. He must have fell so loudly that someone anxiously ran inside the room and rushed to help him get on the bed.
He heard, "--von!"
The blurry figure started reprimanding him while in tears. It was a bizarre sight, but the youth could not hear him.
'I'm sorry'
Yet again, he was in the dark.