(pov Kim Young)
The cold seeps in everywhere.
Even breathing has become difficult.
I remain seated against the metal railing, my knees drawn up to my chest, unable to take my eyes off the tower. My hands are trembling so much that I have to tuck them under my arms to stop the shaking.
Up.
Very high.
Kang isn't moving anymore, even I had given up.
It clung to the metal spikes embedded in the wall.
I feel my throat tighten and my vision waver.
Fantasy Game wasn't supposed to look like this.
At first…
It was almost beautiful.
I could see again the beautiful lights, those large rooms filled with air balloons.
The applause and the families who disembarked to reach their holiday destination.
Genuine smiles.
The players were losing.
The players were winning.
Then they went home.
It was nothing more than a reality TV show.
The buyers watched without a murmur, like watching an evening show.
But the "owners" developed bad habits over time; they sometimes went down to sneak among the humans.
I already hated them.
They thought they were gods.
They went so far.
They would choose a human at random, play at falling in love, live there for a few years before leaving as if nothing had happened.
Like children abandoning a toy.
It all started the day I saw that woman.
A homeowner.
Huge white dress.
She was laughing in our living room while my father served her tea.
I was hiding behind the door.
She had said:
– Humans cry over so little things… it's cute.
My father didn't even reply.
He had simply smiled politely.
As always.
My parents forbid me to interfere in their affairs.
Always.
"Don't ask questions."
"Go back to your room."
"This world is not for you."
Lies.
Everything concerned me.
Fantasy Game was everywhere in our house.
What did they want me to do?
Close your eyes?
To pretend to be deaf?
The further they got, the more I wanted to know; I had become so obsessed.
The screens.
The contracts.
The meetings.
The buyers.
The owners.
Drones.
The prototypes.
I grew up in the middle of this machine.
And I adored it.
Then there was the incident.
My stomach immediately tightened.
Even now, nobody talks about it openly.
My parents have closed everything down.
The media knocked on our door every morning.
The humans were horrified.
But them…
I slowly raise my eyes to the drones above the tower.
They float in the sky like silent vultures.
The owners had tasted something that day.
A new sensation.
And when they came back to see my parents…
They only asked for one thing.
Plus.
They were even more persistent than those media outlets that gave up after a month.
I can still see my father standing in his office.
His face was closed off.
I had rarely seen him so serious.
– No.
Simple.
Calm.
But firm.
My mother had immediately approved.
– Fantasy Game was never designed for this, everything that happened was an accident.
The silence that followed still sends chills down my spine.
The owners had smiled.
Beautiful smiles.
A bit like my Elisabeth.
Then one of them whispered:
– What a shame.
After that…
Everything started to change and the images began to blur.
I suddenly open my eyes.
CRACK ! .
Another body falls.
I turn around immediately.
My hands over my ears.
Same noise.
Always the same.
It is trembling.
– Haaaaa Stop…
My voice breaks immediately.
I withdrew into myself.
The hidden screen is blinking faintly under my sleeve.
I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds.
I'm so tired
I was fifteen years old.
It was just a concept.
An absurd idea.
It was "interesting".
An impossible climb.
But in my version…
The players were just losing points.
Not their bones.
My eyes feel like they're burning.
That's not "it" our agreement
I was nothing more than that arrogant girl who ran through the vast hallways of our house.
They flattered me well
"Kim Young is brilliant."
"Kim Young will surely inherit the project."
Idiot.
I'll catch you… very, very soon