Karis was 25 years old this year. He worked at a large corporation, not because of passion or ambition, but simply to support himself and maintain a calm, stable life. He had always lived a predictable, uneventful life—a rhythm he had come to accept. His days blended together seamlessly, never shifting, never changing.

His mother, Naish, was a hardworking woman who had given her all to raise him after his father passed away when Karis was just a child. Karis had no clear memory of his father—only a vague image, a fleeting voice in his mind. The one thing he could recall, or at least imagined, was the phrase: “I love you, Karis, deep in my bones.” It was a memory so faint, he wasn’t sure it was real. But he clung to it, feeling a deep, almost aching longing for a father’s love, a connection he had never truly experienced.

Although Karis’ life appeared peaceful to others, he often felt something was missing. People saw him as a calm, funny guy—easy-going and relaxed. But deep inside, he didn’t feel the same way. He wasn’t as calm as he appeared. His mind was constantly at odds with his emotions. He often found himself asking, Why am I living like this? Why do I feel empty inside? Why can't I say I'm truly happy? These thoughts lingered in his mind every day, but he kept them buried deep, afraid to confront them.

When he was younger, Karis had struggled to make friends. He wasn’t good at socializing, and despite trying every year to fit in, he always felt like an outsider. He never quite succeeded in forming close bonds with anyone—except for one person, his best and only friend, Golip. Golip was everything Karis wasn’t: outgoing, confident, and full of energy. Yet, despite their differences, Karis and Golip shared an understanding that went beyond words. They could joke, laugh, and connect in a way that felt effortless, even though they came from different worlds.

Now, as an adult, Karis’ life was still a series of repetitive routines. Every day followed the same pattern: wake up, shower, go to work, have lunch, come home, eat dinner, watch TV shows, and go to sleep. His weekends weren’t much different. He spent his free time watching movies or bingeing shows—his only source of happiness, however brief.

But even in the midst of this routine, Karis could never shake the feeling that there was something more he wanted from life. He dreamed of a world where he wasn’t alone. Every night before sleep, he imagined a life where he had a family—his mother, a father he could remember, and siblings who loved him. It was a small wish, a simple wish, yet one that felt impossible to fulfill in his current life.

As Karis lay in bed each night, staring up at the ceiling, he clung to that dream, even as it seemed out of reach. He imagined a world where he wasn’t just surviving, but truly living—surrounded by love, laughter, and the warmth of a family. But for now, it was only a dream, one that kept him going, even if only in his mind.

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One evening, as Karis was heading home from work, he passed by a dark alley. The streets were quiet, the air cool and still. Suddenly, he saw an elderly woman stumble and fall in the alley. There was no one around to help. Without hesitation, Karis rushed over to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling beside her.

The old woman looked up at him with a faint smile. “Oh, thank you for helping me, young man,” she said. To Karis’s relief, she wasn’t seriously hurt—no blood, no visible injuries, just a little shaken from the fall.

She slowly got up with Karis's assistance, and then, in a surprising gesture, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a dark silver coin. The coin was intricately carved with a single word: Wish.

“I don’t have much to offer,” she said, pressing the coin into his palm. “But take this. It may bring you what you seek.”

Karis stood there for a moment, staring at the coin, confused. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he didn’t refuse. It felt cool against his skin, its weight unusual, as if it held some kind of significance.

Later that evening, Karis took a long, relaxing shower, the events of the day slipping away into the routine of his life. As he lay in bed, however, something was different. He reached out and held the coin tightly in his hand, the cold metal pressing against his palm. He closed his eyes and, as was often the case, began to imagine the life he longed for—his perfect family, living together in happiness, surrounded by love. It was a world he could only dream of, but one he couldn’t let go of.

As he drifted into sleep, his mind continued to wander, imagining the impossible, wishing for a life that felt so far out of reach. But then, without warning, a sharp, desperate voice pierced the silence of his room.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

His eyes flew open, heart pounding. The room was dark, the air thick with an eerie stillness. For a moment, he was disoriented, not knowing if he was still dreaming. Then, without warning, a splash of cold water hit his face, snapping him fully awake.

He sat up, gasping for breath, and found himself face-to-face with an angry woman, her eyes burning with urgency.

“Wake up, Karis!” she yelled, her voice shaking him to his core. “It’s time! You’ve been asleep for too long!”

Before he could respond, something in the corner of his vision caught his eye. He turned slowly, his mind still foggy from sleep.

In the mirror, he saw a reflection that took his breath away: a child. A small, five-year-old version of himself, standing there, staring back at him with wide, confused eyes.

Karis’ heart skipped a beat. This couldn’t be real—he had never seen himself like that before. But there was no mistaking it. That face, those eyes—they were undeniably his.

His breath caught in his throat as his gaze flicked back to the woman standing beside him. She was still shouting, but the words no longer made sense. Panic rose in his chest.

“What’s happening?” Karis managed to stammer, but before she could answer, everything went black.

The last thing he saw was the coin, still clutched tightly in his hand, now glowing faintly in the dark.