Chapter 1

"Partner up for the group project," Mrs. Lawson announces, her voice barely registering through my anxiety. I keep my eyes fixed on my desk, tracing the scratched wooden surface. I can't help but sneak quick glances around the room, hoping someone, anyone, will meet my gaze. 

But no one does.

Everyone else is already pairing off, their excited chatter filling the air. They're all friends, they all belong. And then there's me. The odd one out. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as embarrassment and frustration war from inside me.

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. Turning to the guy sitting next to me, I try to keep my voice steady. "Hey, uh, want to partner up?"

He glances at me, hesitating for a moment. His eyes dart away. "Oh, um... Sorry, Kei. I was actually going to work with Jake." He gestures towards a guy from across the room.

"Oh, okay." I mumble, trying to hide my disappointment. My eyes scan the room desperately, seeing most people already in pairs. There's a girl at the back who doesn't seem to have a partner yet. I stand up, my legs feeling like jelly, as I make my way toward her.

"Hi," My voice comes out quieter than I intended. I clear my throat and try again, mustering a weak smile. "Hi, do you have a partner yet?"

She looks up at me, her expression a mix of surprise and discomfort. 

There's a moment of awkward silence before she responds.

"Oh, um..." she starts, glancing around the room as if looking for an escape. "I... I think I'm going to work alone on this one."

I frown, confused. "But Mrs. Lawson said we need to pair up."

The girl shifts in her seat, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, but... I just prefer working by myself today, you know? I'm sure Mrs. Lawson will understand."

It's clear from her tone and body language that she's just making excuses. The unspoken message is clear: she doesn't want to work with me.

"Right," I mumble, feeling my face grow hot with humiliation. "No problem. I'll just... find someone else."

I turn away, my face burning. It feels like every eye in the room is on me, even though logically I know they're all wrapped up in their own conversations. I scan the room one last time, hoping to spot someone — anyone — who might be willing to work with me.

But everyone appears to already be paired off, laughing and chatting excitedly about the project. The noise in the room feels overwhelming, suffocating. I can't take it anymore. 

With shaking hands, I raise my arm. "Mrs. Lawson?" I call out, hating how my voice cracks. "Can I use the restroom?"

She looks up from her desk, frowning slightly. "We're about to start the project, Kei. Can it wait?"

"Please," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "It's... it's kind of urgent."

She sighs, but nods. "Alright, but make it quick. We're starting the project soon."

I'm out of my seat in an instant, trying not to run as I make my way to the door. As I leave, I hear someone whisper, "What's his deal?" followed by muffled laughter.

I let the door close behind me, finally allowing myself to take a deep, shuddering breath in the quiet hallway.

I trudge down the empty hallway toward the restroom, my footsteps echoing off the scuffed linoleum. Once there, I push open the door and head straight for the sink.

Gripping the sides, I stare at my reflection in the spotted mirror. My hair is a mess from frequently running my hands through it. My eyes glare back at me, filled with frustration. I can't stand this. This is my life every single day.

At home, it's like living under constant surveillance. No TV, no video games, and limited internet access. My parents monitor everything I do, always pushing me to study more. I'm barely allowed to leave the house except for school. It's suffocating.

The only times I've managed to sneak in some video games is when my parents aren't in the same room, or when they're not at home. But whenever I get caught, I face hour-long lectures or worse if my father is in one of his moods. Eventually, my parents smartened up and put a password on my computer, only unlocking it when it's time to do homework.

"You need to focus on your studies, Kei," my mom always says. "It's important for your future."

"But I need a break sometimes," I've tried to argue. "I need to have fun sometimes too."

"Your idea of fun can wait," my dad usually chimes in. "Education comes first."

Despite their constant pressure, or maybe because of it, I've grown to hate studying more and more. I hate it. I hate it so much. I do my best to make half-hearted attempts at it and slack off whenever I can. 

When the boredom gets too intense, I end up doing silly things like cutting up my old school papers into little monster shapes, just to entertain myself. I make them fight against each other, giving them voices, and acting out huge battles. It's childish, I know. But I'm desperate for any type of fun.

The worst part is, this sheltered life has made it incredibly hard for me to interact with other people. I'm clueless about the jokes, the references, the slang - all the stuff you pick up from just being around others. Most of the time, I don't even try joining conversations. I just sit there, silent and confused.

It wasn't always like this though. When I was younger, I was a lot more outgoing. Making friends came naturally back then. The complexities of social interaction weren't as important - we just played and laughed together. But as I've grown older, forming friendships has become much harder. I want to make friends... I really do. But I just don't know how anymore.

Last week, I found myself at lunch with a group of classmates. 

They were all talking animatedly about some TV show, their words flowing rapid-fire.

"Can you believe that plot twist?"

"I know! And when the dragon — "

"Shh! Don't spoil it for Jake, he hasn't seen it yet!"

"Dude, how have you not watched it? It's literally all anyone's talking about!"

I sat there, my sandwich untouched, feeling completely lost. I had no idea what show they were talking about, let alone any of the characters or plot points. Every name they mentioned, every event they recounted, it all sounded like straight gibberish to me. 

I wanted to say something, anything, to be part of the conversation. But what could I say? I didn't even know enough to ask a question that wouldn't make me sound like a complete idiot. So I just sat there, frozen, staring at my lunch tray, and tried to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

I grip the sides of the sink, my knuckles turning white as I stare at my reflection. Cold water drips down my face, but it does nothing to cool the burning shame coursing through me. I can't go back to that classroom, back to all the stares and whispers and the constant reminder that I just don't belong.

Desperate for a distraction, I wander into one of the restroom stalls and lock the door behind me. My eyes land on the toilet paper roll, and I start fiddling with it, unspooling it, tearing off squares, and rolling it back up. It's stupid, I know. But maybe if I waste enough time here, I can avoid going back to class altogether.

As I lose myself in the mindless task, I gradually become aware of a small change in the air. It starts as a slight coolness, raising goosebumps on my arms. I shrug it off at first, thinking it's just the air conditioning. But as the minutes tick by, the temperature continues to drop.

Soon, I'm shivering, my teeth chattering. I can see my breath fogging in the air, which is definitely not normal. The cold seeps into my bones. It feels like I'm standing in a freezer instead of a restroom.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to conserve warmth, but it's like the cold is leeching the heat right out of my body. My fingers are going numb, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should get a teacher. This can't be right.

Just as I'm about to unlock the stall door, the lights start to flicker. It's subtle at first, just a brief stutter, but then it becomes more pronounced. The lights start to move in a dizzying pattern, casting strange shadows on the walls.

And then, with a final, sputtering flicker... the lights blink out completely. I'm plunged into total darkness, the cold now bone-deep, aching. I can't even see my hand in front of my face.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice shaking. "Is anyone there? What's going on?"

Suddenly, a burst of glowing blue text appears in the air before me, casting an eerie, pulsing light in the pitch-black restroom. The words hang there, flickering slightly:

INTEGRATION OF PLANET NUMBER 5,435 DESIGNATED EARTH HAS STARTED.

THE ESTIMATED TIME FOR INTEGRATION IS 30 SECONDS.

CREATING SPAWN LOCATIONS...10 SECONDS UNTIL COMPLETION.

I blink rapidly, trying to clear the unsettling vision. But the words remain, floating in the darkness. "What the hell?" I mutter, my heart racing. "Is this some kind of prank?"

CREATION OF SPAWN LOCATIONS COMPLETED.

CREATING SHOP LOCATIONS...10 SECONDS TO COMPLETION.

Shop locations? Spawn points? The terms are foreign, meaningless. 

CREATION OF SHOP LOCATIONS COMPLETED.

CREATING SANCTUARY LOCATIONS...10 SECONDS TO COMPLETION.

"Sanctuary? From what?" I ask aloud, my voice echoing in the empty restroom. 

CREATION OF SANCTUARY LOCATIONS COMPLETED.

PLANET NUMBER 5,435 DESIGNATED EARTH HAS BEEN INTEGRATED.

And with that, the glowing words flicker out, leaving me in darkness once more. But before I can process what I've just witnessed, a blue translucent screen materializes inches from my face.

You're currently within a sanctuary location. 

Sanctuary locations are for resting and recovery. 

Monsters aren't allowed inside sanctuary locations. 

Health, stamina, and mana regen are boosted by 1000% within sanctuary locations. 

Players have to be level 10 or higher to enter.

Only 10 players are allowed per location. 

I squint at the screen, trying to make sense of the flood of information. "Players? Monsters?" I mutter, bewildered. "What is this, some kind of video game?"

Suddenly, the screen flashes a violent red, shaking manically.

ERROR. Sanctuary locations require a level of 10 or higher to enter.

CALCULATING... You're currently level 1.

ERROR. Your level is too low to exist in the sanctuary.

My heart seizes in my chest. "Too low of a level to exist?" I whisper, fear gripping me. "What does that even mean?"

The screen flashes again, the words searing into my eyes.

CALCULATING... SOLUTION FOUND.

Erasing the current player from existence to fix this error.

"No, wait!" I cry out, panic overwhelming me. "I don't understand! What's going on?"

As the world around me begins to blur and fade, I can't help but think that maybe, in some twisted way, I'm finally about to belong somewhere – even if it's in nonexistence.