Ethan woke up to a steady beeping.
It took him a second to realize it wasn't part of a system window.
The sound was too dull. Too real.
His eyes opened slowly, the light above him too bright at first. White ceiling. Clean lines. No flickering shadows, no damp stone walls.
A hospital.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Alive.
For now.
His body felt heavy, like someone had replaced his bones with something denser. When he tried to move his arm, a dull pain spread from his shoulder down to his fingertips.
"Don't," a voice said from somewhere to his right.
Ethan turned his head slightly.
A woman in a dark uniform stood near the wall, tablet in hand. Not a nurse. Security, maybe. Or something close to it. She didn't look surprised to see him awake.
"You lost a lot of blood," she added. "Tore something in your leg too. You should stay still."
Ethan blinked, letting his eyes adjust.
"…How long?"
"About twelve hours."
That didn't feel right.
It should've been longer.
He tried to piece together the last thing he remembered. The dungeon. The creature. The messages.
The screen.
His gaze shifted, almost instinctively, to the corner of his vision.
Nothing.
No blue flicker. No text.
Just the hospital room.
Ethan frowned slightly.
"…Was anyone else watching?" he asked.
The woman looked up from her tablet, brow furrowing just a little. "Watching what?"
"My stream."
There was a pause.
Then, "You weren't streaming."
Ethan didn't answer right away.
That didn't line up.
He remembered it clearly. The message. The viewer count.
One.
"…That's not possible," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
She studied him for a moment, like she was deciding whether to say something else. Then she shook her head lightly.
"You probably hit your head harder than we thought."
Maybe.
It would've been easier if that were true.
Ethan let his head rest back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling again.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
No system. No messages.
For a second, he wondered if he'd imagined it.
People did that, right? When they were close to dying. Hallucinations. Random things the brain threw together to make sense of the moment.
But—
His fingers twitched slightly against the blanket.
He remembered the timing.
The message came before the attack.
Told him to stop.
Saved him.
That wasn't something you just… imagined.
"…Can I get a phone?" he asked.
The woman hesitated. "For what?"
"Just… to check something."
Another pause. Then she reached into her pocket and handed him a device. Not his. Standard issue, probably.
Ethan took it carefully, his grip weaker than he liked.
He opened the streaming platform first.
Search.
His name.
Nothing.
No recent streams. No clips. No records.
It was like it never happened.
His chest tightened slightly.
"…That's weird."
"What is?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he closed the app and leaned back again, staring at the ceiling.
If it wasn't real, then why did it feel so… specific?
Why did he remember the words exactly?
Stop moving.
Now move.
You almost died.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Thanks," he said, handing the phone back.
The woman nodded once and took it, but her gaze lingered on him a second longer than before. Like she was trying to figure something out.
"Get some rest," she said, then turned and left the room.
The door shut quietly behind her.
Silence settled in again.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
His body needed it.
His thoughts were starting to blur at the edges again.
But even as he let himself drift, something felt off.
Not the room.
Not the pain.
Something else.
A faint sensation, like being watched.
He opened his eyes again.
Nothing.
Same ceiling. Same light.
"…Yeah. Definitely just my head," he murmured.
Still—
His gaze shifted slightly, unfocused, like he was trying to catch something just outside his vision.
Nothing appeared.
No screen.
No text.
He let out a quiet breath and closed his eyes again.
Seconds passed.
Maybe a minute.
Then—
A flicker.
So faint he almost missed it.
His eyes snapped open.
There.
For just a second.
A thin blue line, like a glitch, running across the edge of his sight.
Gone as quickly as it appeared.
Ethan didn't move.
Didn't speak.
He just stared ahead, waiting.
Nothing happened.
His heartbeat picked up slightly.
"…Okay," he whispered.
Not imagined.
Or at least… not completely.
He stayed like that for a while, watching, waiting for it to come back.
It didn't.
Eventually, the exhaustion won.
His eyelids grew heavier.
His thoughts slowed.
And just as he started to drift again—
The screen returned.
Clear this time.
[Viewers: 1]
Ethan's breath caught.
It was back.
Exactly the same.
The chat box blinked once.
Then—
You woke up.
His throat felt dry.
"…Yeah," he said quietly.
No hesitation this time.
He wasn't even surprised he answered.
The message stayed for a second.
Then another appeared.
You looked for me.
Ethan's grip tightened slightly on the blanket.
"…I didn't—" he started, then stopped.
That wasn't true.
He had.
He'd checked.
Searched for it.
A pause.
Then—
It's okay.
Something about that line didn't sit right.
Not threatening.
Not aggressive.
Just—
Too… certain.
Ethan shifted slightly, ignoring the pull of pain in his side.
"…What are you?" he asked.
The question hung there.
No immediate response.
For a moment, he thought maybe it wouldn't answer this time.
Then—
I helped you.
That wasn't an answer.
He let out a quiet breath.
"…Yeah. You did."
Another pause.
The room felt smaller somehow.
Quieter.
Then the next message appeared.
You listened.
Ethan frowned slightly.
"…I didn't have much of a choice."
You could have ignored me.
He thought about that.
About the moment in the dungeon.
If he had moved instead—
His jaw tightened.
"…I'd be dead."
The text lingered.
Then—
Yes.
Simple.
Direct.
Ethan looked away from the screen for a second, eyes tracing the edge of the ceiling.
His mind was working faster now.
Trying to make sense of it.
If this thing—whatever it was—could see him…
Then it wasn't tied to the dungeon.
It followed him here.
To the hospital.
To—
Don't think too much.
His eyes snapped back to the screen.
"…You can read my thoughts?"
There was a brief pause.
Then—
Not all of them.
That didn't help.
At all.
Ethan felt something cold settle in his chest.
Not panic.
Not yet.
Just—
Awareness.
"…Then what do you want?" he asked.
This time, the delay was longer.
Long enough that he almost thought it wouldn't answer again.
Then the message appeared.
To watch.
He didn't like that.
"…That's it?"
For now.
Ethan exhaled slowly.
His fingers loosened slightly against the blanket.
This didn't feel like something he could fight.
Not like a dungeon monster.
Not like anything physical.
But—
It had helped him.
That part was real.
And if it could do that once…
"…If I go back in," he said carefully, "you'll help again?"
The screen flickered, almost like it was reacting.
Then—
Of course.
No hesitation.
No condition.
That should've been reassuring.
It wasn't.
Ethan stared at the message for a long second.
Then nodded once, more to himself than anything else.
"…Alright."
Because right now—
He didn't have a better option.
The screen stayed.
Quiet.
Watching.
And for the first time since waking up, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that the room wasn't empty anymore.