Episode 1
by 제이여라 · 2026-10-28
01.
Chris was an artificial person. Even in the nameless village that became his abode, his presence stood out like a black dot on white paper. Despite his black hair and youthful appearance, his presence transformed the village with his outstanding skills and talents. The villagers, who were illiterate, learned to read because of him and even named their village. One day, when the village chief asked him about his identity, Chris said:
"I don't really know who I am. All I remember is my name."
He looked like a black kitten with sharp eyes, which made him the biggest mystery in the village. Some said he was a traveler who had an accident while living in the capital and came to the village, while others claimed he was an assassin sent by the new government. Or perhaps a cat that transformed into a human... In any case, whenever Chris passed by, people would gather and whisper among themselves.
"Who cares who he is? I like him. If we're happy, isn't anything okay?"
Rebecca slapped Chris hard on the shoulder. She was the one who willingly took in Chris when he had nowhere to go. She was a former orphanage teacher who used to take in and raise children who had lost their way. Chris was one such child and became her adopted son. Rebecca had one more adopted daughter named Sarah, a child characterized by long, flowing black hair. Chris and Sarah were like awkward siblings. When the two ate at the dinner table, not a single word would be exchanged. However, Rebecca raised them with pride.
Twice the leaves changed color, and then flowers burst forth on the branches. On the round hill, Chris reached out his hand towards the falling petals. Beside him, Sera was knitting. Her hands crossed over the needles. There were no words between the two of them. A silence, too familiar to be awkward, settled over them.
“...You’re doing that again.”
Unexpectedly, it was Sera who broke the silence. Sera looked at Chris, her eyes narrowed. Chris turned his head towards Sera with a blank expression.
“That’s surprising. I didn’t think you’d speak first.”
“You’re the one who followed me first. I’d feel better if I at least spoke. So, what are you doing?”
“When I’m showered with flower petals, it always feels like spring has truly arrived. I like that feeling.”
“Always? Even though you don’t remember?”
Sera let out a deep sigh. The tangled threads on her white fingertips gradually took on a shape. Chris slowly raised his head and looked at the tangled yarn.
“What kind of pattern is that? Aren’t you knitting that for the first time?”
Sera glanced at him and replied.
“That’s right. It just came to mind. By the way, you could be a poet.”
“That’s just because your world is still small. There are people who are much better than me, aren’t there? You’re good too. Especially at getting angry.”
“Alright, alright, you won’t lose a single word.”
Sera picked up her knitting and stood up. In the distance, Rebecca was waving her hand.
“Today I made potato soup. You know my cooking, right? You can really look forward to it!”
The two people, sitting side by side at the table, each received a bowl of soup. The soup sloshed over the rim of the bowls. Chris, who had picked up a spoon and was slowly eating, unconsciously put the spoon down. Something churned in his chest.
“Chris, what’s wrong? Does it taste bad?”
Rebecca approached Chris and placed a hand on his forehead.
“You don’t have a fever, so are you just not hungry?”
“Just.”
“Just?”
“I mean...”
Sarah frowned and slowly put a spoonful of soup into her mouth.
"Hmm."
Sarah’s pupils slowly widened.
"It tastes bad. It's a familiar taste from yesterday."
"What?"
Rebecca slowly picked up the soup bowl in front of him. Chris’s gaze followed the soup.
“It’s okay, I can just make it again.”
Chris went into his room without a word. Rebecca watched Chris’s retreating back, then slowly picked up Sarah’s bowl as well. Sarah said,
“I’ll go to my room too. I still have some knitting left to do.”
“Alright. This time, you’ll finish knitting Mom’s scarf, right?”
“Of course, who do you think I am?”
Sarah smiled. And then added,
"Speaking of that dream."
Rebecca, who had been smiling and watching the scene, suddenly had a cold expression on her face. Sarah said,
"I had it again yesterday. Chris said he had it too. Shouldn't we call a dream interpreter?"
With a pale face, Rebecca looked at her, then quietly smiled.
"Don't worry. Mom can do anything."
After sending Sarah off, Rebecca slowly entered the storage room attached to the kitchen. Picking up a mirror placed in the corner of the storage room, Rebecca tapped the mirror. The mirror's surface shimmered. Rebecca tilted the mirror slightly with a very small sound.
“Change is happening.”
A tiny whisper rolled across the floor.
*
Lying in bed, the ceiling felt as high as the night sky. Chris patted his chest, trying to calm his churning stomach. Something felt stuck and wouldn't go down, while at the same time, his stomach kept rumbling.
“I’ve just been lying down all day today.”
Had he been exposed to pollen? Or was there a problem with his stomach? Or was it a different kind of problem altogether? He slowly closed his eyes to try and feel its form. Something in his stomach seemed to be trying to come up. He went to the bathroom and tried to vomit, but there was nothing to bring up from his empty stomach.
He lay back down in bed. A quiet stillness enveloped Chris. He felt sleepy. Chris pulled the blanket over himself and slowly closed his eyes. He felt as if something was slowly being drawn in. It was a strange feeling he always experienced before falling asleep. Through it, something slowly entered. He heard a soft sobbing sound.
Someone was crying continuously. He couldn't see their form, but it felt familiar. They were hunched over, their shoulders shaking. Chris always looked down at that sight.
“Is it a ghost? Sera said she’d been having them recently too.”
Should he ask for a reason? The moment he crouched in front of it for that reason, he felt a soft sensation again. The blanket and pillow. And his damp eyes. And a single murmured word.
“Forget.”
Like that soup, something seemed to be firmly tangled, and indigestible things kept rolling around. An empty room. Chris slowly twisted his hair.
“Did you sleep well? Did both of you have good dreams?”
Rebecca, who was doing the dishes, winked. Sera and Chris slowly looked at each other. Both of their hair was incredibly disheveled, as if they had been tossing and turning all night. Sera looked in the mirror, screamed, and muttered.
“I need to find the cause.”
“The cause?”
Sera wrapped her hair around her finger.
“The dream. It’s that dream again. I can’t stand it anymore. I need to investigate. Or you can help me.”
Chris lifted his head.
“Can you find the cause in a dream? It’s just a dream, isn’t it? It would look different if you gave it meaning.”
“There’s a limit to only having such strange dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to do something? Isn’t that why the Dream Weaver exists? It’s like a device that connects dreams and reality.”
“That’s surprising. You seemed not to believe in the Dream Weaver. Didn’t you say it was a complete disaster when you went there once before?”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
“Alright, well. Since there’s nothing else to do, let’s investigate together.”
A book was thrown in front of Chris. “Read this first,” Sera signaled with her eyes. Chris read the book title aloud.
“Dreams and Strange Phenomena...”
“My puppies, eat quickly. It’ll get cold.”
“I’ll pass on Mom’s tasteless soup. She puts too much salt in it. More than that, I want to find the cause. But to work hard, it’s right to eat.”
Sera and Chris sat back at the table. A bowl of soup was placed in front of them. Undercooked potatoes. Excessively salty soup. Rebecca had a particularly hard time making this soup. Chris picked up his spoon again.
“This time, I heard a voice for the first time.”
“What?”
“...A voice telling me to forget.”
Sera slowly blinked her eyes.
"That's strange. I only ever see a silhouette. You can even hear their voice?"
"Yes. It's peculiar."
At that moment, Rebecca looked up and stared at Chris. Sarah exclaimed,
"Mom, your hand!"
"My hand?"
"You cut it."
"Oh."
Sarah quickly brought a bandage. Chris asked in a low voice,
"Where?"
"Where else but in a dream. A very deep, dark place..."
"It's a bit different from mine."
Sarah, who was bandaging the wound, continued,
"I only ever see their back. I don't even know if it's a man or a woman."
Chris was reflected in Rebecca's trembling eyes.
"Should I really go find the Dream Weaver?"
"Does it bother you that much?"
"Yes. They cry so much. Truly sorrowfully..."
"Does the dream bother you so much?"
Briefly refusing Sarah's gesture, Rebecca smiled faintly. Chris and Sarah's gazes were fixed on Rebecca.
"Mom?"
"Follow me."
Rebecca slowly walked into the study, gesturing. As if drawn, Chris and Sarah followed Rebecca's shadow.
"Come to think of it, this is the first time I'm showing you the study."
A hazy memory surfaced. When Chris first caught Rebecca's eye, they were drawn to the study. For some reason, it felt like everyone would be at ease in there. As if entering a mother's embrace. They could believe that everything would get better. It was just a feeling.
"No."
At that time, Rebecca stopped Chris.
"I'll show you much later."
After those words, the memory...
"Huh?"
Their hand touched the cold doorknob. A familiar weight was felt. Sarah looked at Chris.
"What's wrong?"
Rebecca nodded.
"Yes, just open it and go in. Sarah, you look too. Both of you, look together."
Passing Rebecca and entering the study, countless books were stacked on the shelves. Stories related to magic. Old newspapers were roughly tucked in. Chris and Sarah unconsciously read the book titles.
“Sign of Destiny.”
“Tales of Magic Afterimages and Spells.”
“Dreamers, Who Are They?”
“This is the investiture ceremony from 653... I've seen this before too. It's already been 14 years.”
Chris's gaze fell to the bottom of the bookshelf. A book, protruding with a mirror, was visible.
“Siho and Unho?”
Chris slowly lifted the book. It was as thick as Chris's thumb. Sarah slowly turned the pages.
“It's pictures of people.”
“But there's nothing written besides their names.”
The pages turned. Pictures of people, names, and strange numbers were listed.
“But what are Siho and Unho?”
“I don't know either. It's just...”
The turning pages stopped. The very last page. A person's photo was visible. Suddenly, there was a tearing sensation. A headache surged. Something kept replaying in his mind. Someone's hand shape, someone's sparkling accessory, someone's blue eyes. Him.
“Chris. Are you okay?”
And with the headache, something warm flowed from his eyes. Wiping it with his palm, it was water. Rebecca staggered, biting her lip tightly. The moment she was about to place her hand on Chris's shoulder.
Someone outside screamed at the top of their lungs.
“Intruder!”
Breaking the strange peace, a loud noise was heard. The surroundings became a chaotic mess.