Chapter 3: The Illusion Called "System"

  Consciousness returned, and I found myself back in that molten hellscape.

  I shuddered in terror.

  What the actual hell was that?!

  For hours, I lost myself in thought, trying to make sense of my situation. Clearly, entering that mystical space was triggered by me uttering the word "situation" or "status". Like some kind of video game interface—but far more terrifying and real. Yet, it proved one thing: that strange dimension existed within my mind. Could it be dangerous?

  I sighed silently and reassessed my circumstances.

  Alright. Let’s recap. I drowned, got dumped into hell, and was reborn as some quasi-human entity with a bizarre system. What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of twisted reincarnation?

  Bullshit. Nothing good comes from rebirth or being transported to a fantasy world. Real life isn’t a game. And this? This isn’t the afterlife. This is just… loneliness and oblivion.

  Though I lack a mouth, I’ve realized that by focusing on a sentence and willing it to be spoken, I can produce sound. Thankfully, the same applies to my other senses. I could choose to feel the heat if I wanted—though I’d rather not test that. The consequences are unpredictable.

  This world is strange. Beautiful, yet horrifying. For a former human like me, that contradiction is terrifying.

  Why do I exist here? I don’t know. And that ignorance terrifies me.

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  Fear of the unknown is humanity’s oldest terror. It’s universal. Humans dread the vastness of space because they don’t understand it—just as children fear the dark, imagining monsters lurking where they can’t see. We inflate those shadows in our minds, making them larger, more grotesque. It’s in our nature to fear what we don’t comprehend.

  And yet, when those children grow up, they laugh at their old fears. Because the truth is revealed. Because they realize the monsters were never real.

  But I’m still afraid. I know nothing. There’s no guide. No living thing in this hell.

  As I drowned in my thoughts, I turned my gaze to the gargantuan sun dominating half the sky. Enormous doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s beyond enormous. Hotter than anything I’ve ever known.

  Why would a planet orbit this close to its star?

  This world lies far outside the habitable zone. No wonder nothing lives here.

  I’m powerless.

  The colossal sun slowly shrank. Three hours later, it set completely—though I’d bet my nonexistent life it’ll be back in another three.

  Time itself has warped here. By my estimates, a full "day" lasts only about nine hours.

  Then, something unexpected happened.

  The temperature plummeted. The rivers of lava cooled and hardened in minutes. The air hit -30°C—yet I still felt nothing. I was only aware of the cold.

  Darkness. Silence. Cold.

  The only beauty left was the star-studded sky, streaked with glowing nebulae. Crimson and emerald clouds swirled among constellations more vibrant than any painting.

  Breathtaking. Any human would be awestruck. Words can’t do it justice.

  Wait!

  Something’s wrong...

  There’s no moon!

  Not that I could summon one. But its absence feels like a flaw in this masterpiece—at least to my former human sensibilities.

  Hours passed. I kept talking to myself.

  What else do you do when there’s no one else?

  Most people would call it madness. But in truth, it’s survival. A way to preserve sanity when isolation threatens to crush you.

  What is loneliness, really? The absence of others? Being forgotten? Or something worse—losing your place in existence itself?

  What am I even saying? Have I gone insane? Or was I always insane?

  Right on schedule, three hours after sunset, the sun rose again.

  And so began another day on this forsaken planet.