Chapter Text
The smell of a warm, buttery stew wafted about the kitchen. Klein’s hand clutched the wooden ladle’s handle with a sturdy grasp, as he stirred and slowly breathed in the scents of rosemary, butternut squash, and dashes of pepper and salt. Beside the stew pot, meat was slowly simmering in a pan, having been squashed and cut to a paste. Klein smiled, satisfied.
When it was time to eat, he sat down at the table alone, spooning himself a healthy portion of the stew with a sidle ladle of the minced meat. He slowly ate, savoring the taste of the slightly salted beef against the smooth but thick texture of the soup. A little less salt next time, he judged.
He then stood from the table, and cleaned up the rest of the mess of the kitchen, tidying everything away. He hummed.
Then paused.
Outside the small kitchen window, he saw the city of Seoul caught on fire. A heinous smoke was billowing from its every pore, and the city had quickly become desolately empty—no cars honking, no calls of food stands or shouting advertisements, no life—only desperate people, turning to horrid actions to survive.
This is my luck… Klein lampooned in his mind, shaking his head. Even in a dream, everything will slowly turn into an apocalypse, time and time again…
He resumed cleaning up his small but precious kitchen.
He then reclined on his couch, watching the ceiling lights slowly spin. There was no TV anymore, even in this dream, but he found this oddly relaxing. His body felt heavy, settling into the soft touches of the couch cushions. All the small aches and pains of a human body vanished away.
Then—
“Klein! Klein!”
A heavy knock and shout came from the door.
Klein slowly blinked, not wanting to stand. Who is it? A neighbor? No, Mrs. Stelyn Sammer had a rather poor ending, each time this nightmare began. She and her husband should no longer be alive, as with everybody else in this building… There is only the cat remaining…
Yet, the knock came again.
When he didn’t answer, a curse bit through the door. Then, Klein watched in astonishment when a bright white light suddenly pierced his door, then swung through it, the white sword cleanly cutting the door in half.
“Klein?” said a soft-faced man in a white coat, brushing his black hair back with his free hand. He observed Klein lying there on the couch, observed the tidy state of the room and the spinning lights, and then said, surprised, “Next time, answer the door.”
Klein slowly blinked at this strange man, standing from the couch.
… Who is this? he wondered. A salesman? A harbinger of the apocalypse?
This was a new development of the dream, which had repeated and suddenly restarted so often. How many times had it been? Over a thousand, Klein had thought, though his awareness had drifted in and out so often, so it didn't feel as long as it should have, in the way of a dream.
“Yes? Who is this?” Klein responded in Korean. After over a thousand restarts, and haphazardly participating in his surroundings, he had already gotten a good grasp of the language.
“Don't you remember?” the young man said. “I'm Kim Dokja, your cousin. Klein, what are you still doing here? How did you survive the first scenario?”
Klein smiled politely. Did I always have a cousin in this dream? Sometimes, details were odd. Such as Mr. Huang To being his boss, Amon driving him in a sleek sports car, Klein accidentally drinking an Assassin potion from a vending machine… The dream had been very different, long ago. Klein did have a brother named Benson, and a sister named Melissa, but they weren’t present anymore in this version of the dream.
“I managed somehow,” Klein finally said, opting to be vague when the situation was still unclear.
Kim Dokja’s grip on his sword tightened.
Ah, my ‘cousin’ seems to believe I am a murderer… That's right, the first scenario’s requirement in this dream is to kill a living creature.
“My sugar jar had been left open the night before, and there were a line of ants leading to it,” Klein then elaborated. “I squashed a few of the ants, and so survived.”
“Ah,” Kim Dokja smiled disconcertingly. “That's good. I also killed some cockroaches.”
The two remained staring at each other from across the room. His ‘cousin’ stared at Klein, perplexed and still holding his sword, while Klein stared at Kim Dokja, also quite perplexed by his presence here.
Klein finally cleared his throat.
“Cousin, are you hungry?”
And thus Klein arranged for a quite awkward dinner, in which Kim Dokja finally explained the situation over a new batch of butternut squash soup and side of meat.
.
“Yes, after I broke the throne and became King of a Kingless World,” Kim Dokja looked momentarily embarrassed, but continued on, “the Dokkeabi transported us around Seoul. According to that novel, we all should have ended up in the most familiar place to us. I arrived in front of your door, Klein. I was surprised that you were still living in the same place as after you moved to Korea.”
The throne… was that Scenario 5? Usually, the scenarios would end roughly at about 50, or 20, so Klein had some time before the dream restarted again. That was good.
“Did we really spend so much time together?” Klein then chuckled, knowing nothing.
Kim Dokja’s eyes then briefly flickered in the air, as if reading something. He had done this repeatedly, but each time Klein saw nothing. He assumed this was a sign that his ‘cousin’ was very popular with the ‘constellations’ that survivors of the apocalypse always mentioned.
The dinner had been quite a strange, surreal, and awkward affair.
Kim Dokja leaned forward on the table, fingers under his chin, frowning.
“Klein. I don't understand. Did you use the information in the novel to somehow survive? How are you living like this?” A pause. “There's even electricity and food.”
Klein smiled uncomfortably. This is by the grace of the Fool… he thought without shame.
“Yes, it's because of the novel.” He put all the blame on something else.
“I see. My mother was also… Klein, will you stay here? Eventually, this place too will no longer be safe.”
“I will stay here. Don't worry.”
“I suppose you already roughly know what will happen.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Are you sure you will stay?”
This reminded Klein of Melissa, who had reminded him many times of something when she was unsure if Klein was really listening. Klein smiled subconsciously, his heart warming.
“Yes, yes, don't worry.”
“Then…” his ‘cousin’ said reluctantly, “I need to go. Thank you for the meal. Stay safe, Klein. You were the only one who…” He trailed off.
My adult ‘cousin’ can also have a rather cute expression. Klein fought the urge to ruffle his hair. This would be rather improper. Hmm, in his memories, it seems like I was a rather good cousin. It would be good to not ruin this impression.
“You must stay safe as well,” Klein then told him earnestly. “If you need help, then just come back here.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Kim Dokja smiled, and this time the smile was no longer awkward, or strange—it was small and thin, but very real.
Kim Dokja then stood and headed to the broken door.
Kim Dokja, glancing back at his cousin with a somewhat bewildered expression one last time, finally gathered himself together, nodded, and then left.
Klein stared after the mirage, wondering what exactly had happened.
When Kim Dokja had been gone for quite a while, Klein then, flicking his fingers, Grafted the concept of a door back onto the unbroken projection of itself, and then the door was back in place, like it had never been touched.
Then everything was back to normal, the smell of sweet food rising in the air, just rightly salted, and the peaceful living room lights overhead spinning on and on. After a pause, Klein then sat back on the couch, reclining back and picking apart the entire experience.
I am more coherent than before. The dream is also becoming more linear, and I can differentiate between my real experiences and the false replacements of the dream. A few days ago, I even heard a prayer from a female member of the Tarot Club, and responded directly, without the automatic prayer response functionality. I seem to be close to waking up from this dream. However, I still do not recall a Kim Dokja in any iteration of the dream, nor in real life. This does not seem to be an intervention of Celestial Worthy, as there is no advantage for Him to take such an odd action, and besides, I am close to having successfully digested His characteristics. He should no longer have the ability to act freely.
That leaves the odd nature of this dream itself. Sometimes, I had wondered if this version of the dream was meant to represent the future apocalypse of the Great Old Ones, but this dream seems to take place in South Korea, in the modern era before the First Epoch. However, given the Fool’s domain over the past, it could be that this dream is in fact connected to the real past, and rather than an apocalyptic future, this signifies how the modern world truly ended, and became the First Epoch…
But then why does the dream restart and restart?
And why did my ‘cousin’ Kim Dokja appear directly to me this time?
He then thought,
Perhaps, is there something different about this restart?
Then, in that moment.
A series of bright blue screens suddenly flashed in front of his eyes.
[Welcome to the Star Stream!]
[The channel #BI-7623 is open.]
[The service of planetary system 8612 insists that you do not freeload!]
[The incarnation Klein Moretti is now connected to the main scenario.]
Klein stared in stupefaction. This was the first time he had seen these rumored screens even after thousands of resets.
Yes, something seems a little different... he lampooned.