My sight is really dim. I can barely see. It feels like the world is slipping through my fingers, and I can’t quite grasp it. I can’t move my head—it feels incredibly heavy, like it’s made of stone. The only way I can observe my surroundings is through my peripheral vision, catching glimpses of the people around me in the faint light.
On my right, I see my parents. My mom looks so fragile, her face streaked with tears. It breaks my heart to see her like this—she’s always been the strong one, the one who took care of everyone without a second thought. My father sits beside her, his expression unreadable, but I know he’s hurting too. Even though I can’t feel my hands anymore, I know they are holding mine. I can feel the warmth of their touch, and it comforts me in a way nothing else could.
I really want to thank them, but I can’t voice the words. They’ve been taking care of me tirelessly, never once complaining, always putting my needs above their own. Every time I see them, they’re smiling, radiating warmth, and always making me smile in return. They know me so well—they always know exactly what I need, even without me saying a word. They’ve been my rock, and seeing them here reminds me just how blessed my life has been. I only wish I could do something to repay them for all the love they’ve given me.
On my left is my favorite gamer—my soon-to-be sister-in-law. She’s so much more than just a gamer. She’s a creative force, a brilliant mind who’s always thinking up new ways to entertain and challenge people through the games she creates. Whenever she finishes a new project, she lets me playtest it before it’s released, and I’m always amazed at her talent. One of her games even got nominated for Game of the Year, a huge achievement that speaks volumes about her dedication and skill.
Not to mention, she’s beautiful, kind, and down-to-earth. She’s got this quiet grace about her that makes her incredibly easy to be around. But don’t let that fool you—when it comes to gaming, she’s a force to be reckoned with. She’s got a ladylike demeanor, but when she’s in a game, she can get a little toxic, especially when she’s on a winning streak. It’s all in good fun, though, and that’s what makes her a true gamer—her passion, her competitive spirit, and her love for the game.
She’s everything you could ask for in a partner—beautiful, kind, skilled at playing games, and even more talented at creating them. I heard from people online that women like her are almost impossible to find. I can’t help but wonder how my big brother managed to meet someone like her. He’s so lucky.
Speaking of my big brother, I wonder what he’s doing right now. Even though I can’t see him, I know he’s by my side.
My brother is an incredible person—smart, caring, and never afraid to speak his mind. He’s the type of person who will tell you exactly what he’s thinking, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear. His honesty can be a little too blunt at times, but it’s part of what makes him who he is. He’s always looking out for me, even if he has a unique way of showing it. If I’m not mistaken, he’s quite a well-known doctor. He’s worked so hard to get where he is. In fact, he even managed to build his own hospital—the very one I’m lying in right now. It’s a testament to his determination, intelligence, and drive to help people.
I’ve always wanted to ask him if I was the reason he became a doctor. I wonder if he chose this path because he wanted to fix what was wrong with me. If that’s true, I feel like I owe him an apology. He’s done so much for me, and I don’t know if I can ever repay him. But then again, I don’t think he would ever want me to apologize. He’s always spoiled me, doted on me, and made sure I had everything I needed. Sometimes, I have to be careful with what I say to him because he tends to take my words too seriously, and before I know it, he’s doing something unnecessarily grand to fix a problem that didn’t even need fixing.
But that’s just him—he always goes above and beyond, always trying to make things better, even when it’s not needed. That’s the kind of person he is: intelligent, capable, and above all, kind. Even though he’s not perfect, he’s always been there for me, and I can never thank him enough.
On the other side of me, there’s my mom. She’s the heart of our family. Not only is she an incredible cook—her meals have always been a source of comfort and joy—but she’s also a deeply compassionate person. She has this incredible ability to make everyone feel welcome, loved, and cared for, no matter what. She’s always thinking of others, always putting their needs first. That’s why it hurts me so much to see her in pain now.
My father, though he can seem tough on the outside, is just as loving as my mom. He’s calm, calculating, and incredibly sharp, especially when it comes to board games, which he’s a master of. He’s the kind of person who never loses his cool, no matter the situation. I’ve always admired his ability to stay so calm, so collected, especially when things get tough. But beneath that tough exterior is someone who loves deeply, someone who’s always there when you need him, even if he doesn’t always show it.
Even though my mom and dad have always had their differences and love to bicker, it’s never been anything serious. They’ve always had this playful dynamic, a kind of back-and-forth that’s more about teasing than anything else. It’s part of their charm, really. They’ve never meant any harm by it, and it always ends with laughter, the sound of which fills with warmth. I’ve always admired how they’ve managed to keep their relationship so full of life and humor, even after all these years. No matter how much they argue, I know they’ll always have each other’s backs—and that’s something I’ve always been grateful for.
My eyes starting to feel heavy. I’m so tired, as if my body itself is begging me to let go. Yet my heart clings to this moment, unwilling to leave. There are so many things I want to say to them, so many things I still want to do with them. Memories of laughter and love flash before me, and I find myself wishing—just one last wish. But I know... that’s too big of a dream to fulfill.
At the very least, for one final time, I wish I could tell them how much I love them. I want to feel their warmth, to hold them close, to let them know how much they mean to me. If I could, I’d hug them tightly and tell them that they don’t need to worry about me anymore, because...
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Just being able to spend my time with them has been more than enough. It’s a gift so precious that it makes me forget all the pain I’ve endured. Their smiles, their voices, their presence—it’s all I’ve ever needed.
I wonder...
Have I been a burden to them? This thought never truly leaves me. It lingers in the quiet moments, creeping in like a shadow. The fear of being hated by the people I love—it’s suffocating. I know they’ve always been kind, always patient, but I can’t help but wonder if, deep down, they’ve grown tired of me.
This feeling comes to me every day, especially when I’m alone after spending time with them. There’s always this gnawing doubt: What if they hate me because of something I said? What if they’re exhausted by my presence? The fear of being left behind, of being forgotten, of no longer being cared for... it’s overwhelming.
And yet, they’ve never shown anything but love. My parents, my brother, and even my soon-to-be sister-in-law—they’ve all been my anchors, my light in the darkness. Still, that fear persists, no matter how much I try to push it away.
I wonder...
When this moment ends, will I ever see them again? Will I get the chance to laugh with them, to cry with them, to share another memory? The thought of letting go terrifies me—not because of the pain, but because I don’t want to leave them. I don’t want them to feel the void I’m about to create.
If I could, I’d tell them how grateful I am. Grateful for the love they’ve given me, for the sacrifices they’ve made. I’d tell them how much their kindness has shaped me, how their unwavering support has been my strength. I want to remind them that their love has given my life meaning.
Maybe... just maybe, if they knew how much they mean to me, they wouldn’t grieve as much. Maybe they’d find comfort in knowing that their love has been my greatest treasure.
I wonder...
Will I fade away completely, or will some part of me stay with them? Will they remember me—not as someone who was weak, but as someone who cherished them with every ounce of my being?
And as the darkness creeps closer, I make one final wish. If there’s a next life, I hope I’ll find them again. I hope I can make up for the times I worried them and the times I doubted their love. I hope I can give back even a fraction of the happiness they’ve given me.
I wonder...
Will that wish ever come true?
Even though the answer is really obvious.
Somehow, I feels like....
*
I wonder where I am right now. Even though there's only darkness, it’s oddly comfortable, almost like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Is this how it feels when you die? If it is, it’s actually not that bad. There’s no pain, no fear—just a sense of peace and stillness.
But then again, it’s a little worrying. Will I be stuck like this forever? Or maybe I’m just waiting for my turn to move on, like how people seem to die every single day without fail. Perhaps there’s some sort of unseen process, something I don’t understand yet, and I’m just a part of that.
Suddenly, a voice pierces the silence.
"Welcome to Ingensica, Wanderer."
"Huh?"
The voice is soft and soothing, as if it’s coming from some far-off dream. It feels like it’s not just heard, but felt, like it resonates deep within me. Ethereal and calming, like the sound of wind brushing against the leaves of a forest or the gentle hum of distant stars.
Before I can process what’s happening, my body is pulled by an unseen force, like I’m being guided somewhere or moved by a current I can’t see. The sensation is so sudden and overwhelming that I gasp, my body tensing.
When I finally open my eyes, I’m greeted by an incredible sight.
Blue orbs of light float around me, their movements slow and deliberate, like they are part of a grand cosmic dance. In the distance, I can see blue waves gently swaying in an endless ocean of light, painting the horizon with hues I’ve never seen before. The sky above is a dark canvas, but the blue light transforms it into something mesmerizing, almost magical. The colors seem to swirl and shimmer in the air, casting a soft glow on everything. I can’t help but be awestruck.
After a few moments of taking in the views, I look down, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
"Woah!"
The ground beneath me feels strange—almost like I’m standing on something that’s both solid and intangible at the same time. I instinctively crouch down, my hands pressing against the invisible surface, trying to steady myself. The urge to balance is overwhelming, like the ground could disappear at any moment. Far below me, I can see the endless ocean of blue light, undulating and shimmering like waves in an endless sea. It’s both beautiful and unsettling.
"I might be a little vague, but the only way to describe this place is... beautifully scary."
I don’t even know who I’m talking to. I’m not sure if I’m speaking to someone at all, but the words just escape me, an honest thought slipping from my mind.
"Huh?"
And then, it hits me. I look at my hands—I'm wearing a fingerless gloves. Wait, that's not the only thing. I look at the rest of my body, and it hits me with full force—I’m dressed in the kind of clothes I’ve seen in fantasy stories, the ones worn by the main protagonist in anime, who somehow always manages to wear something outrageously fancy while living in an isolated village with nothing but bread and fruit to eat.
I look down at the outfit, the intricate details and elegant fabric, and I can’t help but wonder how ridiculous it would look in the modern world. People would probably call it cosplay, a costume straight out of a fantastical world. But right now, it feels oddly fitting, like the universe decided to dress me in this strange attire, and I have no choice but to accept it.
Now that I think about it, this place reminds me of the loading screen from that assassin game I used to play. The vast emptiness, the eerie tranquility—it’s almost identical. The only thing missing is the soft, ominous music that usually played in the background. As I reach down and touch the ground, I’m surprised to see ripples spreading out from my fingers, like I’ve disturbed the surface of still water. The waves flow outward, delicate yet mesmerizing, as if the very fabric of this place reacts to my presence.
"What is this place?"
The question escapes my lips, even though I know there’s probably no one here to answer it. Still, I hope. I hope that someone—anyone—will respond and tell me what’s going on. Because, honestly, I have no clue why I’m here.
Where’s the god who’s supposed to descend in a burst of divine light and grant me cheat-like powers? Isn’t that how these things usually go? Or the evil goddess who’s supposed to appear, smirking arrogantly, ready to ruin my life for her selfish reasons?
Instead, there’s nothing. No booming voice from the heavens, no smug goddess, no explanation. Just this endless, surreal landscape and the sound of my own breathing.
In the end, I give up trying to make sense of it. I lower myself onto the strange, invisible ground and sit down, my legs crossed. I let out a sigh and tilt my head back, gazing at the mesmerizing sky. It’s so vast and dark, yet the glow of the blue lights gives it a surreal beauty. It feels infinite, like staring into the universe itself.
"…"
The silence is deafening. Not even the faintest sound of wind or distant waves—just an oppressive, eerie stillness.
Am I… really dead?
The thought lingers in my mind, refusing to leave. It’s a strange realization. I mean, it would explain everything—the darkness, the strange world, the complete lack of anyone else around. But if this is death, why does it feel so… calm?