Prologue:

Picture this – a dream, or perhaps a distant memory, hanging on the edge of reality. It's like that feeling you get when you're trying to remember something from your past, but it's just out of reach. The scene unfolds in shades of twilight, like a painting where the colors blend together in a way that's both beautiful and a bit eerie. Everything is twisted together, playing apart in it's own obscure meaning.

I'm standing there, in the middle of this landscape, where everything seems to be in flux. The air is carrying scents that tug at my heart – the warm smell of a home-cooked meal, the fresh scent of rain on the ground, and the delicate aroma of flowers in a field. I try to conjure up a word, my mind is filled with thoughts, but there's nothing else I remember.

Ordinary amnesia would erase all, wouldn't it? Yet here I stand, fragments of familiarity nestled within my mind - the taste of food, the scent of rain, the notion of amnesia itself. It's as if my memories have been sifted through a fragmented sieve, retaining some while relinquishing others, leaving me with a patchwork of sensations and knowledge.

There's a river meandering through the scene, its waters reflecting the changing colors of the sky above. It's like a mirror, showing the world above and below at the same time. The grass beneath my fingers feels alive, like it's holding memories of days long gone. It seems like a firmament, in between the waters and the sky. It feels different, farmiliar, like I've been here before.

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As I walk, I notice a bridge up ahead. It's this ancient thing, made of stone, and it looks unreal. At the beginning of the bridge is a poster, "Welcome to Mainstet Transmigration Forum, changing the past, is a priority." At the bottom of the poster is the image of a sonic-like woman, smiling as she holds what seems to be a large submarine. "3098" is the year written at the very bottom. With each step, I'm hearing whispers of conversations and snippets of laughter.

"You have to cut the link and kill the chancellor." A voice echoes in my mind, the face obscured as i fall to my knees. There is a sharp pain at the back of my head, making me feel like the ground was shifting.

Shadows creep in, and the colors around me start to fade. There's a sense of darkness encroaching, like something's trying to take over. And then, a voice – a single word – "Byeong-Cheol" – breaks through the quiet, like an echo.

I turn to look back, and that bridge – it crumbles and falls away, leaving me standing on the edge, feeling like I'm about to fall into the unknown. It's like those memories were right there, within my grasp, and then they slip away, like a dream slipping through your fingers when you wake up.