Scene 1
The village was quiet in a way that did not feel peaceful.
A restless wind wandered through the narrow dirt paths like a lost traveler, brushing against crooked wooden fences and the walls of aging houses. The wind was not strong enough to become a storm, yet it refused to settle. It moved in uneven breaths, sometimes calm, sometimes sharp, carrying with it the dry scent of dust and old wood.
Tall trees surrounded the village like silent watchers. Their branches swayed slowly, but the leaves trembled as if something unseen disturbed them. Some leaves tore away from their branches and drifted through the air, spinning helplessly before falling onto the cracked earth below.
Nothing here seemed orderly.
The houses were scattered without pattern—some leaning slightly to one side, others built from mismatched planks and fading paint. No fences lined up properly. No road followed a straight direction. It was a village that had grown without rules, without design, almost as if it had simply appeared over time.
And yet, despite the quiet, something felt wrong.
The silence was heavy. Not peaceful—heavy. Like the air itself was holding its breath.
At the far edge of the village stood a small house. It was old, its wooden walls pale and worn by years of wind and rain. The roof sagged slightly in the middle, and one of the windows rattled softly whenever the wind passed through.
Inside the house, there were no sounds of conversation, no footsteps, no life.
Only silence.
A silence so deep it almost felt like someone—or something—was waiting.
---
Scene 2
Inside the quiet house lived a boy named Kyro Lensen.
He was seventeen years old.
Kyro lay on a narrow bed in a dim room where the curtains barely allowed the outside light to enter. Faded sunlight slipped through a thin crack in the cloth, casting a pale stripe across the floor and reaching the edge of the bed.
But Kyro did not move.
His body rested against the mattress as if he had been there for a long time. The blanket had tangled around his legs, and his black hair fell messily across his forehead. Even in the dim light, faint shadows gathered around his closed eyes—eyes that, when open, revealed a deep dark blue color, cold and distant like the surface of a quiet ocean at night.
His breathing was slow, uneven—sometimes shallow, sometimes heavy.
Anyone who saw him might think he was simply sleeping.
But this was not normal sleep.
His fingers twitched slightly.
A faint tension rested in his face, as if he were trapped inside a dream he could not escape.
His lips parted weakly, and a quiet voice slipped out, fragile and exhausted.
"Why…?"
The word was barely more than a breath.
His eyebrows tightened as if something deep within him was struggling.
"Why…?"
The wind outside pressed gently against the window, making it rattle again.
Kyro's chest rose sharply.
"I can't… escape…"
His voice sounded drained, like someone speaking after fighting a long battle no one else could see.
"…that sickness…"
His hand shifted slightly on the bed sheets, gripping the fabric weakly as though he were trying to hold onto something in the darkness surrounding his mind.
"…Why am I… so deep… in sleep…?"
The room answered with silence.
Outside, another leaf tore away from its branch and drifted slowly to the ground.
Inside the house, the boy remained trapped in a sleep that felt far deeper than rest.
A sleep that did not heal.
A sleep that slowly consumed him.
And somewhere beyond the quiet village… beyond the restless wind… something unseen had already begun to open its gate.
DEEP SLEEP
The Gate of Sickness
---
Scene 3
Darkness.
Endless darkness stretched in every direction.
Kyro stood still, his breathing quick and uneven. The air around him felt strangely cold, and the ground beneath his feet seemed solid yet unfamiliar. There were no houses, no trees, no sky—only shadows fading into deeper shadows.
Kyro slowly turned his head, confusion spreading across his face.
"Wait… where am I?"
His voice echoed faintly, disappearing into the darkness.
"Why does this place look so similar to my dream world…?"
He looked around again. The emptiness felt hauntingly familiar, like a place he had visited many times before but could never fully remember.
"Everything is… dark…"
A sudden sound interrupted his thoughts.
Footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Approaching from somewhere behind him.
Kyro turned sharply.
Out of the darkness, the silhouette of a tall man appeared. His figure slowly became clearer as he walked closer. The man was tall and calm, his presence strangely unsettling.
When he finally stopped in front of Kyro, his face remained partly hidden by the shadows.
"Hey, boy," the man said in a low, steady voice.
"What are you doing here?"
Kyro's eyes widened slightly.
"What do you mean?" Kyro replied nervously.
The tall man looked at him silently for a moment before speaking again.
"This is not the real world where you live."
Kyro's chest tightened.
He clenched his fists and spoke with a desperate voice.
"Please…! Get me out of here!"
His voice trembled as panic rose inside him.
"I want to escape from this sickness!"
The tall man slowly raised his hand and placed it gently on Kyro's shoulder.
His expression carried a strange sadness.
"Sorry, boy…"
He paused.
"I can't."
Before Kyro could react, another sound suddenly broke through the darkness.
A voice.
Familiar.
Urgent.
"Kyro! Kyro! Wake up!"
The voice echoed again, louder this time.
"Kyro! Wake up!"
The darkness began to blur.
The tall man slowly faded away.
And the world around Kyro shattered like broken glass.
---
Kyro's eyes suddenly opened.
He gasped and quickly sat up in his bed, his heart pounding hard in his chest.
The dim room slowly returned to focus.
Standing beside him was his mother, gently shaking his shoulder.
"Kyro, wake up," she said softly.
Kyro looked around, still breathing heavily.
"Oh… Mom…"
He wiped his face and let out a nervous sigh.
"I was literally scared."
His mother frowned slightly and pointed toward the wall.
"Look at the clock," she said.
Kyro turned his head.
The clock read 4:00 PM.
"You slept at 10:00 PM yesterday," she added. "You've been sleeping almost the entire day."
Kyro stared silently at the clock.
Something about that dream… felt too real.
---
Scene 4
The afternoon sun hung quietly above the village.
Kyro slowly walked along a narrow path that led to a small park near the edge of town. The wind had calmed, but the air still carried a strange heaviness.
The park was nearly empty.
A few dry leaves rested on the ground, and an old bench stood beneath a tall tree whose branches stretched wide across the sky.
Kyro walked toward the bench and sat down slowly.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
His face looked tired.
Not just tired.
Depressed.
His dark blue eyes stared blankly at the ground.
"Huh…"
A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
"Why am I so different from everyone else?"
Children's laughter could be heard somewhere in the distance, but it felt far away from him.
"That sickness…" he whispered.
"It's the main problem in my life."
He rubbed his face slowly.
"Why can't I just live normally?"
The wind moved gently through the tree above him, and a single leaf drifted down beside the bench.
Kyro didn't even notice.
---
Scene 5
Night slowly settled over the town.
The clock now read 8:00 PM.
The streets were much busier than before.
Cars moved along the road with bright headlights cutting through the darkness. Motorbikes rushed past with loud engines, and buses stopped occasionally to pick up passengers waiting along the sidewalk.
Streetlights illuminated the pavement in soft yellow circles.
A businessman walked along the footpath carrying a leather briefcase. His name was Carl, a man in his mid-thirties who had just finished a long day of work.
He adjusted his coat slightly as he passed by the park.
But something caught his attention.
A figure on the bench.
Carl slowed his steps.
There, beneath the tall tree, a boy was lying on the bench… completely still.
Carl walked closer.
The boy was sleeping.
Deeply sleeping.
Carl frowned slightly.
"Hey, boy," he said, nudging the bench lightly.
No response.
Carl leaned closer and gently shook the boy's shoulder.
"Hey, boy! Wake up!"
Suddenly Kyro's eyes opened.
He quickly sat up, confused and disoriented.
"Where am I…?" Kyro muttered.
Then he looked at the man standing in front of him.
"And… who are you?"
The man gave a small smile.
"My name is Carl," he said calmly. "I'm a businessman."
Kyro blinked a few times, trying to wake himself fully.
"Oh…"
Carl looked at him curiously.
"Why did you fall asleep here?"
Kyro sighed tiredly.
"Huh… it's a sickness," he said quietly.
Carl raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Whoa… that sounds like a very rare sickness."
Kyro nodded slowly.
"Yeah…"
Carl remained silent for a moment, thinking. Then his face suddenly brightened.
"But I know a doctor who might be able to help you escape from that sickness."
Kyro looked up immediately, shocked.
"What!? Really?" he said quickly. "But where can I find him?"
Carl reached into his coat pocket and took out a small card.
He handed it to Kyro.
"Here," Carl said. "This is my phone number. If you need any help, call me."
Kyro took the card and looked at it.
"Okay… thanks," he said.
Then he quickly asked again,
"But where can I find the doctor?"
Carl didn't answer.
Instead, he simply turned around and began walking away along the dim park path.
Kyro watched him disappear into the darkness.
The card remained in his hand.
And suddenly, the night felt even more mysterious than before.
Scene 6
Kyro sat on the edge of the park bench, his hand still gripping Carl's card tightly. The leather felt smooth under his fingers, but the weight of it felt heavier than it should—like holding a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. His heart still thumped from the strange encounter, from the dream that had felt more real than reality itself. The streetlights cast long shadows across the ground, and the faint hum of traffic reminded him he was still in the real world, yet a part of him still lingered in the darkness of that endless void.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. The doctor… Carl said the doctor could help. A small spark of hope flickered in his chest, fragile but alive. The thought of finally finding a way to escape the sickness—the endless sleep that had haunted him for years—made his stomach twist nervously. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, the screen lighting up his pale face in the dim night.
With a trembling thumb, he tapped the number Carl had written on the card. The line rang, each chime stretching out longer than it should, and Kyro's pulse raced in anticipation. Please pick up… please…
"Hello?" A calm, steady voice answered on the other end.
Kyro exhaled sharply. "H-Hi… is this Carl?" His voice was almost a whisper, hoarse from anxiety.
"Yes, this is Carl," the voice replied. There was a pause, then he added, "You sound… uneasy. Is everything alright?"
Kyro swallowed. "I… I met you tonight in the park… the man who gave me the card."
"Oh, yes," Carl said. There was a small chuckle in his voice, reassuring yet distant. "I figured you'd call. You said you wanted to find the doctor, correct?"
Kyro nodded even though Carl couldn't see him. "Y-Yes… I… I need help. Please, I can't… I can't keep sleeping like this. It's… it's like the sickness is swallowing me. I don't want to… disappear inside my dreams again."
Carl's tone softened. "I understand, Kyro. Don't worry. You're not alone. The doctor I know specializes in cases like yours. Rare, yes, but not hopeless. I can guide you there."
Kyro felt a flicker of relief, mixed with fear. "W-Wait… where is it? I mean… can you tell me where the hospital is? The doctor… I don't even know what to expect."
Carl paused again, his voice calm but deliberate. "The hospital is a little outside the main city. It's not a place most people stumble upon. I'll give you the address, but you need to promise me something first."
Kyro frowned, gripping his phone tighter. "What… what is it?"
"Patience," Carl said softly. "And trust. The doctor will help you, but you have to be willing to follow instructions exactly. This sickness… it's not ordinary. If you rush, you might make it worse."
Kyro nodded quickly, even though Carl couldn't see him. "I… I promise. I'll do whatever it takes."
Carl gave a faint laugh, light and reassuring. "Good. That's all I ask. Listen carefully. The hospital is called St. Aelric's Medical Center. It's on the outskirts of the city, past the old bridge that crosses the Silverbrook River. Take the main road north until you see a tall lamppost near the gas station. Turn right there. You'll see a narrow road leading to the hospital. It's a large building with pale gray walls, almost glowing under the streetlights at night. Do not be afraid—go inside, and ask for Dr. Elias Vey. He's expecting you."
Kyro's eyes widened. St. Aelric's… Dr. Elias Vey… The names alone seemed to carry a strange weight. "Okay… I… I got it. Thank you, Carl… really." His voice trembled slightly with a mixture of fear and hope.
Carl's tone softened. "Kyro… one last thing. When you meet the doctor, remember that this sickness isn't just in your body—it's in your mind, in your soul. You must confront it. Don't try to fight it alone. Let him guide you."
Kyro swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. "I… I understand. I'll try."
Carl chuckled lightly, though there was an edge of seriousness in it. "Good. Now, I must go. The night is long, and you have a journey ahead. Take care, Kyro. Call me if you need anything on the way."
Kyro nodded again, though he was alone in the park. "Yes… thank you… I will."
He ended the call and held the phone in both hands for a long moment. Outside, the night air felt colder now, sharper. The park was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves. Kyro's mind raced, the weight of what lay ahead pressing on him. He had a destination now, a guide, and a faint glimmer of hope. But the darkness of his dreams still lingered behind his eyelids, like shadows waiting to reach out.
Kyro stood slowly, folding Carl's card and slipping it into his pocket. He gazed at the dimly lit streets and the distant bridge beyond the city limits. The path was unknown, and he had no idea what awaited him at St. Aelric's Medical Center—but for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a small surge of determination.
The sickness had not beaten him yet.
And Kyro Lensen was ready to take the first step into the night, into the unknown, toward the doctor who might finally pull him back from the edge of his endless, consuming sleep.
He tightened his jacket around his shoulders, took a deep breath, and began walking.
The shadows of the city seemed to shift as he passed, whispering secrets he couldn't yet understand. Somewhere beyond the streets, the Silverbrook River glimmered faintly under the lamplight, guiding him toward what could either be salvation… or something far darker.
But Kyro didn't stop. He had a path now, a mission, and the sickness—though still lurking—was finally something he could face.
The night awaited, silent and patient, as he moved forward into the unknown.
Scene 7
The streetlights faded behind Kyro as he followed the narrow road Carl had described. The city seemed to stretch endlessly into darkness, the distant hum of traffic fading into a faint, almost otherworldly silence. Ahead, through the thin mist rising from the Silverbrook River, the pale gray walls of St. Aelric's Medical Center appeared. They glowed softly under the dim moonlight, giving the hospital an almost spectral appearance.
Kyro's hands shook slightly as he pushed open the heavy front door. The faint smell of antiseptic hit him, mixed with a strange metallic tang that made his stomach twist. Inside, the hospital was quiet, eerily quiet, except for the low, rhythmic hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
He walked cautiously toward the reception desk. A tired-looking nurse glanced at him, but when she saw the card from Carl, her expression softened.
"Ah… Dr. Shah is expecting you," she said quietly. "Follow the corridor to the left, third door on your right."
Kyro nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. His heart raced with a mix of hope and fear. Each step echoed in the empty hallway, bouncing off the white walls like ghostly whispers.
Finally, he reached the door. A small brass nameplate read: Dr. Shah – Specialist in Rare Sleep Disorders. He hesitated, hand trembling over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the air thick with the faint scent of herbs and medicine. Books and jars lined the walls, some labeled in languages Kyro didn't recognize. Behind a large desk sat a man with sharp, calculating eyes and a faint smile. His hair was streaked with gray, his posture relaxed but commanding.
"Ah, you must be Kyro Lensen," the man said, his voice smooth but carrying a strange edge. "Carl mentioned you. Please, sit."
Kyro swallowed hard and took a seat opposite the doctor, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the shelves, the jars, the faint shadows dancing across the walls.
"I… I don't know how to explain it properly," Kyro began, his voice quivering. "I… I fall into these… these sleeps. They aren't normal. I… I feel trapped, like I'm stuck inside a world I can't escape from. And… and I can't wake up… even when I try. Sometimes it feels… endless."
Dr. Shah leaned back, steepling his fingers and studying Kyro carefully. The faint smile on his lips remained, but his eyes seemed colder now, calculating.
"I see," he said softly. "You've described what we in the medical world would call a… very rare sleep disorder. But your case is… unusual, to say the least."
Kyro's throat went dry. "Unusual? I… I just want it to stop. Please… I don't want to be trapped in sleep anymore."
Dr. Shah chuckled softly, a sound that echoed faintly in the quiet room. "Umm…" He paused, tilting his head slightly, "It's a very rare and dangerous sickness. And… honestly, I don't think you can escape from it."
Kyro blinked, confused and frightened. "What… what do you mean?"
The doctor's chuckle deepened, almost unsettling now. "Ha ha… maybe… if you sleep… about ten to twelve years… then, perhaps, you might escape from it. Ha ha ha."
Kyro's stomach twisted. Ten… twelve years? His mind raced, trying to process what the doctor had just said. A sickness that could imprison him for over a decade? The thought was almost too much to bear.
He leaned forward, voice trembling. "But… there has to be a way! There has to be something I can do! I… I can't just sleep away my life!"
Dr. Shah's eyes glimmered with a strange, almost cruel amusement. "Ah, young Kyro… you must understand. This sickness is not like the others I've treated. It is… different. It is not merely in your body or your mind. It is something… deeper. Something that will challenge you beyond anything you've ever known. That is why… I must warn you. Escape… is not simple."
Kyro's chest tightened. The weight of the sickness pressed down on him more heavily than ever, and he felt a cold, shivering dread creep up his spine. But somewhere under the fear, a spark of determination began to burn.
"I… I'll try," he whispered, almost to himself. "Even if it takes… years… I'll fight it."
Dr. Shah leaned back in his chair, watching Kyro silently. His face betrayed nothing, yet there was something almost… approving in his gaze.
"Very well, Kyro," he said softly, finally breaking the silence. "You have come here seeking a path. That path will be difficult, but it begins tonight. The sickness… the Gate of Sickness.
Scene 8
The night outside the hospital felt strangely ordinary.
After speaking with Dr. Shah, Kyro stepped out into the cool evening air. The streets were quiet, lit by long rows of yellow streetlights. A faint breeze moved along the sidewalk, carrying the distant sound of traffic and rustling leaves.
Kyro walked slowly along the pavement, his mind full of questions.
Ten to twelve years…?
Dr. Shah's words echoed again and again inside his head.
"How can someone just… sleep for that long?" Kyro muttered quietly to himself.
He rubbed the back of his neck and kept walking, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The road ahead curved slightly toward a small alley between two buildings. As Kyro approached it, he suddenly heard shouting.
Angry voices.
Then the sound of something crashing.
Kyro froze.
"What…?" he whispered.
He carefully stepped closer and looked down the alley.
Three men were surrounding another person, pushing him roughly against the wall. The man looked terrified, trying to protect himself as the others shouted and shoved him.
"Please! Stop!" the innocent man cried.
Kyro's heart began beating faster. He felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. This isn't my problem… part of him thought.
But then the frightened man looked straight at Kyro.
"Help me!" he shouted desperately.
Kyro hesitated.
His mind was confused, his body tense. He had never been someone who got involved in fights. Yet something inside him told him he couldn't just walk away.
Taking a deep breath, Kyro stepped forward into the alley.
"Hey!" he called out.
The three men turned toward him.
Kyro tried to keep his voice steady.
"Why are you guys fighting?"
One of the men, tall with a shaved head, stared at him with irritation.
"Ey!" the man snapped. "Who are you?"
Another man stepped forward with a smirk.
"Do you want to fight with us too?"
Kyro quickly shook his head.
"No. I'm not here to fight," he said firmly. "I'm here to stop the fight."
For a moment there was silence.
Then the group burst into loud laughter.
"Did you hear that?" one of them mocked. "The kid wants to stop us!"
Kyro clenched his fists slightly but kept his voice calm.
"Just stop this before I call 911."
The men didn't look scared at all.
Instead, one of them walked straight toward Kyro.
"You think we're afraid of the police?" the man sneered.
Before Kyro could react—
BAM!
The man punched him hard in the shoulder.
Kyro staggered back from the force, pain shooting through his arm.
The group laughed again.
"You should've stayed out of this, kid," one of them said.
Kyro rubbed his shoulder, wincing slightly. The punch hurt… a lot. But he didn't raise his fists. He didn't attack back.
Instead, he straightened himself and looked directly at them.
"You don't know something about me," Kyro said calmly.
The men rolled their eyes.
"Oh yeah?" one of them said sarcastically.
Kyro crossed his arms slightly.
"I have 35 types of guns," he said slowly.
The men paused.
"And right now…" Kyro continued confidently, "…I'm going to shoot you with my shotgun."
The group stared at him for a moment.
Then they burst into even louder laughter.
"Listen to this guy!" one of them said.
"A shotgun?" another mocked.
Kyro didn't laugh.
Instead, he slowly reached behind his back.
The laughter suddenly began to fade.
Then—
Kyro pulled out a shotgun.
The long barrel gleamed faintly under the streetlight.
The three men instantly froze.
Their expressions changed from mocking to shocked.
"W–wait…" one of them stuttered.
"Is that… real?"
Kyro held it firmly, pointing it slightly toward the ground but clearly visible.
"I told you," he said calmly. "Stop the fight."
The men looked at each other nervously.
One of them stepped backward.
"Let's go," he muttered quickly.
Within seconds, the three men turned and ran down the alley as fast as they could.
Their footsteps faded into the night.
Silence returned.
The frightened man leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
"Thank you," he said to Kyro.
Kyro lowered the shotgun.
Then he looked at it.
And quietly sighed.
"…Good thing they didn't check closely," he murmured.
Because the shotgun…
Was just a toy.
Kyro shook his head slightly and placed the toy back behind his jacket.
The innocent man stared at him, confused.
"That… was fake?"
Kyro gave a tired half-smile.
"Yeah," he admitted.
"But sometimes… a little trick is enough to stop a fight."
The man nodded gratefully.
"Still… you saved me."
Kyro looked up at the dark sky for a moment.
His shoulder still hurt from the punch.
But deep down, something inside him felt slightly stronger than before.
Maybe the sickness controlled his sleep.
Maybe the world inside his dreams was dangerous.
But one thing was certain.
Kyro Lensen wasn't the kind of person who would just walk away when someone needed help.
And somewhere, far beyond the quiet streetlights…
The mysterious Gate of Sickness was still watching.
Scene 9
The night had grown deeper.
The streets were quieter now, and the glow of the streetlights stretched long across the empty sidewalks. Kyro walked slowly along the road, his hands in his pockets and his head slightly lowered.
His shoulder still hurt from the punch earlier, but that wasn't what troubled him the most.
It was the sickness.
The words of Dr. Shah echoed in his mind again and again.
"A very rare and dangerous sickness…"
"Maybe if you sleep ten to twelve years…"
Kyro sighed heavily.
"Huh… why me?" he muttered to himself.
He stopped walking and leaned against a cold metal railing near the street. Cars passed occasionally, their lights flashing briefly across his tired face.
His dark blue eyes looked empty.
"Why am I so different from everyone else?" he whispered.
For a moment, he felt completely alone.
Then suddenly—
"Rough night, isn't it?"
Kyro quickly looked up.
A man stood a few steps away from him.
The man's appearance was strange. He wore a dark coat and a wide hat that partly hid his face. His voice was calm, but something about him felt… unsettling.
Kyro frowned slightly.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The man smiled faintly.
"You may call me… Mr. Unknown."
Kyro raised an eyebrow.
"That's… not really a normal name."
Mr. Unknown chuckled softly.
"Perhaps. But tonight, names are not important."
He stepped closer, holding a small covered plate in his hand.
"You look exhausted, young man," he said gently. "Come with me. My house is nearby. You should eat something."
Kyro hesitated.
His instincts told him something was strange about this man.
But his stomach growled slightly. He hadn't eaten anything since afternoon.
"…Fine," Kyro said carefully.
Mr. Unknown led him down a quiet street and toward a small house hidden between tall buildings. The inside was dimly lit, with a single lamp casting shadows across the room.
Mr. Unknown placed the plate on the table.
"Here," he said. "Just some rice. Eat. You look like you need it."
Kyro sat down slowly.
He looked at the plate.
Plain white rice.
But something about it felt wrong.
Kyro leaned slightly closer.
There was a faint, unusual smell coming from it.
Not strong.
But strange.
Kyro's eyes narrowed.
Poison.
He didn't show any reaction.
Instead, he quietly pushed the chair back and stood up.
"Actually… I'm not hungry anymore," Kyro said calmly.
Mr. Unknown's smile slowly faded.
"Oh?" he said quietly.
Kyro didn't answer. He simply turned and walked toward the door.
But just as he reached it—
PSSSSHHH!
A sudden spray burst from behind him.
Kyro reacted instantly.
He quickly closed his nose and mouth with his hand, stepping aside.
A cloud of strange mist filled the air.
"Trying to poison me now?" Kyro said coldly.
Mr. Unknown's friendly expression was gone.
Now his eyes looked sharp and dangerous.
"You're smarter than I expected," he said.
Kyro didn't waste another second.
He stepped forward and threw a strong punch toward Mr. Unknown's face.
But—
Mr. Unknown quickly blocked it.
He smirked.
"Too slow."
Then—
THUD!
Mr. Unknown kicked Kyro hard in the stomach.
Kyro staggered backward, pain rushing through his body.
For a moment, his legs nearly collapsed.
But he forced himself to stand.
He wiped his mouth and looked directly at the strange man.
"Still standing?" Mr. Unknown said mockingly.
Kyro didn't answer.
Instead, he suddenly removed one of his shoes and threw it directly at the man's face.
SMACK!
The shoe hit perfectly.
"Ouch!" Mr. Unknown shouted, grabbing his face.
His balance broke for a moment.
"I will end you!" he growled angrily.
But before he could attack—
Kyro rushed forward.
And with all his strength—
BAM!
He delivered a powerful kick straight to Mr. Unknown's face.
The man's eyes widened.
Then his body collapsed to the floor.
Unconscious.
The room fell silent.
Kyro stood there, breathing heavily.
He looked down at the fallen man.
Then he quietly said,
"You're too late in this."
Kyro picked up his shoe, quickly put it back on, and walked out of the strange house.
The cold night air hit his face again as he stepped back onto the empty street.
His body hurt.
His mind felt exhausted.
But he kept walking until he finally reached his own house.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Kyro slowly walked to his room and dropped onto his bed.
The ceiling above him looked blurry.
His eyes felt heavy.
Too heavy.
"…Not again…" he whispered weakly.
Within seconds—
Kyro fell into another deep sleep.
And somewhere beyond the quiet world of reality…
The Gate of Sickness slowly opened once more.
Scene 10
Kyro's eyes slowly opened.
For a moment, everything felt blurry and distant. The ceiling above him looked pale and quiet, and the faint afternoon light slipped through the curtains beside his bed.
He blinked a few times and turned his head toward the clock on the wall.
4:40 PM.
Kyro sighed.
"Again…" he murmured.
Sleeping for hours without realizing it had become normal for him now. His body still felt heavy, as if the strange sickness had drained his energy during the night.
He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Then suddenly he remembered everything.
The hospital.
Dr. Shah's words.
The fight in the alley.
And most importantly—
Mr. Unknown.
Kyro quickly stood up and walked out of his room. The quiet sound of cooking came from the kitchen, along with the gentle smell of warm rice and vegetables.
His mother was there, preparing dinner.
"Mom," Kyro said as he stepped into the kitchen.
She looked up and smiled softly.
"Oh, you're awake. You slept again for a long time."
Kyro didn't smile back.
"Mom… I need to tell you something."
His serious tone made her stop what she was doing.
"What happened?" she asked.
Kyro took a deep breath.
"Last night… after I left the hospital… I met someone."
His mother listened quietly.
Kyro continued.
"He called himself Mr. Unknown."
The moment those words left his mouth—
His mother froze.
The spoon in her hand dropped slightly against the pot with a small metallic sound.
"…What did you say?" she whispered.
Kyro frowned.
"He said his name was Mr. Unknown. He invited me to his house and tried to poison me. Then he tried to spray something at me. We fought and I knocked him out, but he escaped."
His mother's face had turned pale.
Her eyes looked frightened.
"Kyro…" she said slowly.
"Do you know who Mr. Unknown really is?"
Kyro shook his head.
"No. Who is he?"
His mother swallowed nervously.
"That man… is the killer of your father."
Kyro felt as if the air had suddenly disappeared from the room.
"…What?"
His voice came out almost as a whisper.
His mother lowered her head.
"Years ago… the man called Mr. Unknown killed your father… Fiji Lensen."
Kyro stood completely still.
His mind refused to accept what he had just heard.
"My… father…?"
He had always known his father died when he was young. But no one had ever told him how.
And now the truth hit him like a storm.
His fists slowly clenched.
"So… that man…" Kyro muttered.
"That man killed my father?"
His mother nodded sadly.
"Yes."
Silence filled the kitchen.
Kyro's chest tightened with anger and grief.
He looked away so his mother wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes.
"I need some air," he said quietly.
Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the house.
---
The evening air felt cool as Kyro walked toward the park again.
His mind was spinning.
Mr. Unknown killed my father…
The thought burned inside him.
When he reached the park, the place felt peaceful. The sun was slowly lowering, painting the sky in soft orange colors.
Then Kyro noticed someone.
A girl was standing near a group of flowers.
Butterflies fluttered around her as she gently moved her hands, almost as if she were playing with them.
Kyro slowly walked closer.
"Hey… excuse me," he said.
The girl turned around.
Her appearance was striking.
Her black hair moved softly with the breeze. Her golden-yellow eyes shined brightly under the sunlight, and her pale white skin gave her a calm, delicate look.
She tilted her head slightly.
"Yes?"
Kyro hesitated for a moment.
"Do you know where Mr. Unknown is hiding?"
The girl blinked.
Then she softly laughed.
"Hehe… who is Mr. Unknown?" she said. "That name sounds funny."
She smiled playfully.
"And who are you?"
Kyro scratched the back of his head.
"I'm Kyro. I just thought maybe you knew him."
The girl smiled warmly.
"Oh! Nice to meet you, Kyro!"
She placed her hand lightly on her chest.
"My name is Rina."
Kyro nodded politely.
"Nice to meet you too."
Then he asked,
"By the way… where do you live?"
Rina pointed toward the houses on the right side of the park.
"I live in the right-side society near this park. What about you?"
"I live near Dante's Market," Kyro answered.
He gave a small wave.
"Alright… see you later. Bye."
Rina smiled softly.
"Okay. See you later, bye!"
Kyro left the park and continued walking.
---
For the next few hours, Kyro searched everywhere.
The village streets.
The marketplace.
Even the darker alleys of the city.
But Mr. Unknown was nowhere to be found.
Kyro returned home exhausted.
Then his mother suddenly remembered something.
"Kyro!" she called.
"I just remembered… the group your father investigated before he died… they were from Lendoska City."
Kyro's eyes widened.
"Lendoska?"
His mother nodded.
"That city is extremely polluted and dangerous. Many criminal groups hide there."
Kyro didn't hesitate.
At 7:30 PM, he grabbed his jacket and stepped into his old, rusty car parked outside.
The engine started with a rough sound.
Kyro gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"If Mr. Unknown is there…" he muttered.
"…then that's where I'm going."
The road toward Lendoska City was long and dark.
Factories filled the horizon, their chimneys pouring thick black smoke into the sky.
By the time Kyro reached the city…
The clock read 8:00 PM.
The polluted air made the streetlights look dim and foggy.
Kyro slowly drove deeper into the city.
Then suddenly—
He saw it.
A building with broken windows and dim lights inside.
Men were standing near the entrance.
Kyro narrowed his eyes.
"This must be their place…"
At last.
After hours of searching—
Kyro had finally found their location.
Scene 11
The polluted air of Lendoska City burned slightly in Kyro's throat as he stepped out of his old car.
Factories surrounded the streets, their tall chimneys releasing thick black smoke that covered the sky like a dark blanket. Dim orange lights flickered across broken buildings and dirty roads.
Kyro closed the car door quietly and walked toward the abandoned building he had seen earlier.
A group of men stood near the entrance.
They were talking loudly, some holding bats, others smoking cigarettes. The moment Kyro stepped closer, their attention turned toward him.
Kyro's fists slowly tightened.
His heart was pounding.
But he didn't stop walking.
Finally, he stood only a few meters away from them.
Kyro glared at the group and shouted,
"Where is Mr. Unknown!? Huh!?"
The men looked at each other, surprised.
One of them stepped forward, a tall man with a scar across his cheek.
"Hey boy," the man said with a mocking grin.
"Why are you searching for our boss?"
Kyro's voice grew colder.
"He killed my father."
The group went silent for a moment.
Kyro's eyes burned with anger.
"I want revenge."
The scarred man suddenly laughed.
Then his face twisted into anger.
"You little brat—"
Without warning—
BAM!
He threw a powerful punch toward Kyro's face.
But Kyro reacted instantly.
He dodged it.
The punch sliced through the air beside him.
Kyro stepped slightly to the side and looked calmly at the man.
"Next time…" he said quietly.
Before the man could react—
THUD!
Kyro's fist struck the man's jaw with a fast, sharp punch.
The man collapsed onto the ground.
The rest of the group froze for a second.
Then chaos erupted.
"Get him!"
Several members grabbed baseball bats and rushed toward Kyro.
Kyro quickly reached behind his jacket.
And pulled out his shotgun.
The same shotgun he had used before.
But inside the barrel—
He had secretly loaded small stones.
The men slowed down slightly.
"Shoot him!" one of them shouted.
Kyro aimed.
BANG!
A blast of stones shot out of the barrel.
"AAH!"
One of the men fell backward, grabbing his shoulder.
Kyro quickly reloaded more stones.
BANG!
Another man screamed and dropped his bat.
Kyro kept moving, firing again and again.
The small stones struck the attackers, forcing them to retreat.
Within seconds, the group was scattered across the ground, groaning in pain.
But suddenly—
A shadow moved above.
Before Kyro could react—
Someone jumped down from the roof.
The figure landed smoothly on the ground.
Kyro's eyes widened.
It was him.
Mr. Unknown.
The strange man slowly straightened his coat and smiled.
"Hello, boy."
Kyro clenched his fists.
"So you want to take revenge," Mr. Unknown said calmly.
He tilted his head slightly.
"But I'm sorry…"
He reached inside his coat.
"…you can't."
A pistol appeared in his hand.
Before Kyro could react—
BANG!
The gun fired.
Pain exploded through Kyro's leg.
"AAH!"
He collapsed onto one knee, grabbing his injured leg.
Blood slowly spread across his pants.
Mr. Unknown walked closer, smiling.
"I warned you," he said softly.
"You are just a child playing a dangerous game."
Kyro's breathing grew heavier.
But slowly—
He pushed himself back onto his feet.
His injured leg trembled.
Yet he still stood.
He stared directly at Mr. Unknown.
"You can hurt me…"
Kyro said through clenched teeth.
"…but you can't kill me."
Mr. Unknown raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Kyro suddenly smiled slightly.
Not with anger.
But with calculation.
His mind was working quickly.
He had been observing everything since arriving.
The broken lights.
The loose metal pipe near the wall.
The oil leaking across the ground.
Kyro quickly stepped backward, pretending to lose balance.
Mr. Unknown followed him confidently.
"Running already?" he mocked.
Then—
Kyro kicked the metal pipe toward the leaking oil.
The pipe slid across the ground—
And struck the broken electrical wire nearby.
SPARK!
Electricity flashed.
The oil instantly caught fire.
Mr. Unknown jumped back in surprise.
Kyro used the moment.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, he rushed forward.
And struck Mr. Unknown with a powerful punch.
CRASH!
Mr. Unknown fell backward onto the ground.
The firelight reflected in his shocked eyes.
He tried to stand—
But the smoke and sudden chaos overwhelmed him.
His body finally collapsed.
Unconscious.
Kyro stood there, breathing heavily.
Then suddenly—
The world around him began to blur.
His vision faded.
His body felt heavier… and heavier…
Kyro slowly collapsed to the ground.
The last thing he saw was the burning light flickering across the polluted sky.
Then—
Darkness.
---
Days passed.
Then months.
Then years.
Kyro never woke up.
Doctors examined him again and again.
But they could not explain his condition.
It was as if his body had fallen into a deep sleep beyond normal human understanding.
And so…
Kyro Lensen slept.
For twelve years.
---
Some last words…
Can Kyro wake up again after twelve years?
Maybe someone…
Or somebody…
Will wake him.
Or maybe…
He will remain forever trapped behind the mysterious Gate of Sickness.