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Chapter 1: The Glitch

Mori Kiyoshi sat in the back of the lecture hall, his head resting heavily on his hand, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The professor's voice droned on, a monotonous wave crashing over him, pulling him deeper into a haze of disinterest and self-doubt. The topic was something about existentialism—he was supposed to care, but the words seemed to blur together, transforming into an indistinguishable hum.

He glanced around the classroom, the flickering fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the sea of faces, each one seemingly engaged while he felt like a ghost in the room. His classmates, full of confidence and energy, laughed and exchanged notes as if they weren't weighed down by the unrelenting pressure of their futures. Mori tightened his grip on the edge of his desk, feeling the sharpness of the wood dig into his palms. Why can't I be like them? he thought bitterly.

A sudden chill crept through him, an unsettling sensation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He blinked, trying to shake off the growing unease, but the chill deepened, seeping into his bones. The professor's voice faded into a distant echo, and the air around him thickened, like he was submerged underwater.

Mori's breath quickened, and he could feel the frantic beating of his heart in his ears. This is just anxiety, he told himself. It's nothing. Just focus. But his thoughts spiraled further, tightening like a noose around his mind. What if I can't escape this feeling? What if—?

The world around him began to shift, colors blending into one another like watercolors on a canvas. The rows of desks distorted, bending and twisting, creating a spiraling vortex that sucked him in. He gripped the desk tighter, his knuckles white, a surge of panic coursing through him. What's happening?

Suddenly, everything was gone.

Mori found himself suspended in an endless void, a stark contrast to the classroom that had just enveloped him. He floated, weightless and disoriented, surrounded by a swirling mist of colors—hues he had never seen before, as if the very fabric of reality had unraveled. He reached out, fingers brushing against the intangible air, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to anchor him. The sensation of falling overwhelmed him, and he gasped, choking on the emptiness.

"Help!" he screamed, but the sound echoed back at him, warped and distorted. It was as if the universe itself had swallowed his voice. Am I dreaming? The thought flitted through his mind, but it felt too vivid, too real.

Just when the fear threatened to consume him whole, a flash of light erupted in front of him. It was blinding, searing through the confusion and panic, illuminating a path that felt familiar yet distant. He hesitated, torn between the desire to escape this madness and the instinct to flee from the light.

With a desperate push, he lunged forward, and the world collapsed around him.

Mori stumbled back into reality, gasping for breath as he found himself back in the lecture hall, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a frantic drum. The professor continued speaking, oblivious to the turmoil that had just unfolded. He blinked, disoriented, as he glanced around. His classmates were still engaged, flipping pages and taking notes, their laughter ringing in his ears like an echo from another time.

What just happened? Panic washed over him. He turned to the girl sitting next to him, her head bent low over her notes. "Did...did you see that?" he stammered.

She looked up, a frown creasing her brow. "See what?"

Mori's stomach dropped. They didn't see. They couldn't have. "Never mind," he mumbled, averting his gaze. The laughter of his classmates felt distant now, like a mocking chorus celebrating his isolation.