The first thing he felt was cold.
Not the kind that came from winter air—but a deep, bone-biting chill, as if something unseen was watching him from the dark.
He opened his eyes.
A cracked ceiling stared back at him, carved with strange symbols—circles within triangles, eyes without pupils, lines that looked more like warnings than decorations. A single oil lamp flickered weakly on the wall, its flame trembling as if afraid.
"This… isn't my room."
His name was Aarav.
Or at least, he remembered that name.
The last thing he recalled was falling asleep while reading a web novel—something about pathways, madness, and gods. Then darkness. And now this.
Aarav sat up slowly.
His body felt wrong.
Too light.
Too obedient.
He raised his hand—and froze.
Veins faintly glowed beneath his skin, forming a complex pattern that looked disturbingly similar to the symbols on the ceiling.
"…What the hell?"
Before he could process that thought, a voice echoed inside his mind.
Not loud.
Not gentle.
Cold. Ancient. Absolute.
> [Synchronization Complete]
[Authority Fragment: Seer — Unsealed]
[Sequence Identified: 9]
Aarav gasped and clutched his head.
Images flooded his mind.
—A towering gray fog stretching endlessly
—A massive throne hidden behind mist
—Countless broken stars screaming silently
—A book that wrote itself with blood-red ink
He fell to his knees.
"What… is this…?"
The voice returned.
> [This world follows the Law of Sequences.]
[Power is borrowed. Knowledge is poison.]
[Madness is the price of ascension.]
Aarav's breathing steadied.
Strangely… he wasn't panicking.
Instead, his thoughts were clearer than ever.
"That's not normal," he muttered. "I should be freaking out."
And then he understood.
This wasn't calm.
This was detachment.
As if something inside him was already observing reality from a distance.
The door creaked open.
A man entered—thin, pale, wearing a long black coat and a silver monocle over one eye. His footsteps were silent, unnatural.
"You woke up earlier than expected," the man said softly. "Interesting."
Aarav looked at him—and instantly knew.
Danger.
Not because the man looked threatening.
But because every instinct screamed that this person was not human anymore.
"Who are you?" Aarav asked.
The man smiled.
"Call me Mr. Hollow. I am your… sponsor."
"Sponsor for what?"
Mr. Hollow walked closer, his monocle gleaming.
"For survival."
He snapped his fingers.
The symbols on the wall lit up.
Mr. Hollow spoke calmly, as if explaining the weather.
"This world is divided into Pathways. Each Pathway leads to a god—or something pretending to be one."
Aarav's heart skipped.
LOTM.
This really was LOTM-like.
"Each Pathway has Sequences. Nine… eight… seven…" Mr. Hollow's smile widened. "The lower the number, the closer you are to madness—or divinity."
"And me?" Aarav asked.
Mr. Hollow looked genuinely puzzled.
"That's the strange part."
He leaned down, whispering:
"You are a Sequence 9 Seer."
Aarav exhaled.
That sounded… weak.
But Mr. Hollow continued.
"Yet your mental stability matches someone who has already digested multiple sequences."
Silence filled the room.
"That's impossible," Mr. Hollow murmured. "Unless—"
Unless what?
Before Aarav could ask, the world shifted.
For a fraction of a second, everything slowed.
He saw it.
A thin, invisible thread connecting Mr. Hollow's heart… to something far away.
A weak point.
A future.
A possible death.
Aarav blinked.
The vision vanished.
His heart pounded.
"I just…" He swallowed. "I just saw something."
Mr. Hollow's expression changed instantly.
Not fear.
Reverence.
"You didn't just awaken early," he said slowly.
"You awakened with clarity."
The oil lamp flickered violently.
Somewhere far away, something ancient stirred.
Mr. Hollow straightened and bowed slightly.
"Welcome to the Pathways, Aarav," he said.
"Try not to become a monster… or a god… too quickly."
Aarav clenched his fists.
Inside his mind, the gray fog rolled endlessly.
And on a distant throne, something unseen opened its eyes.