Or rather, the idea of opening his eyes. The world around him wasn’t light or dark—it was syntax. Lines of broken memory, half-rendered dreamscapes, and systems overlayed atop old, painful recollections. Like waking up inside a scrambled hard drive, your name written in corrupted pixels. "Rei Kazuma... Age 17... Disqualified." He turned—if turning even made sense here—and saw an old classroom, desks floating mid-air like drowning fish, the blackboard scribbled with equations that rearranged themselves faster than he could read. A girl sat by the window. "Rei," she said softly. "You left us. You forgot." The image glitched—shards of static peeled away from her body. Behind her, the sky fractured, revealing not blue, but System Code—lines of commands, failsafe threads, and something labeled: [User Anchor: L-000-JAY] [Override Permission: Denied] Rei stumbled backward, his heartbeat echoing after it should have, trailing like a ghost of time itself. Why did that name sound too familiar? Why did it hurt? Suddenly, his mind jerked. Another memory stabbed through—Jay sleeping under a rooftop fence, blinking lazily at a floating System HUD. Jay ignoring danger, shrugging off death, like it all was a joke—like he was designed to not care. "But that system... wasn’t meant for him alone," Rei whispered. f|re(e)web.n\ovel. (c)o.m There had been another version of it. But something—someone—cut him out. [WARNING: Dream Layer Breach Detected] [Unauthorized Anchor Sync: In Progress] [Subject: Rei Kazuma | Anchor Conflict Level: 94%] "No—stop it—" Rei gritted his teeth, clutching his head. "That’s not your system, Jay... It was—mine—first—" Endless doors, each one labeled with fragmented phrases: Lakeside Memory #00012 Hero Simulation – Abandoned The Girl Who Vanished Twice Each step, the corridor flickered, rebuilding and collapsing at once. His own hands were glitching now—fingers doubling, skin warping between childhood and present. Then—he found a door that resisted. [Lazy Genius Core Archive – Do Not Open] Rei raised a shaking hand to the doorknob. His other hand—no longer his—grasped a sword. A blade made of dreamlight and memory. Where had it come from? A voice echoed behind him. "You’re not supposed to be here, Rei." Eyes half-lidded. Same slouch. But... wrong. Glowing faintly. Cracks forming in his body like he wasn’t fully real anymore. Jay raised a hand toward him. "Don’t dig, Rei. You’re gonna break everything." But Rei smiled, something sad and stubborn. The world exploded into white.