Prologue: Countdown

[00:00:57]

I’m lying on the floor, staring at the message window in front of my eyes.

Just a moment ago, it was at 60.

Three seconds passed, and now it’s 57.

Ah, now it’s 56.

I first realized this was counting down time when I was around 10 years old.

Because that’s when I learned how to tell time.

There were kids my age who figured it out before me, but whatever.

I learned around that time.

[131,306:32:04]

That’s the number I saw back then.

131,306 hours.

Only when I learned to tell time at age 10 did I realize these numbers represented time and that it was counting down.

A psychiatrist once asked me when I first started seeing this. Around 7 or 8 years old, I think.

When I said I’d probably seen it since birth, they gave me medication.

Pills that made me fucking drowsy.

I hated taking them, so I lied that I didn’t see it anymore. My parents were happy, my grandparents were happy, and the psychiatrist looked pleased.

Since then, I’ve never told anyone that I can see the message window.

If this was purely bad just because I had to visit psychiatrists since childhood for seeing the message window-

Well, it wasn’t entirely so.

Because it didn’t just count down time.

Occasionally at school, when some mischievous kid tried to push me from behind or trip me, a new message would appear before my eyes.

[Someone is trying to push you from behind.]

Seeing that, I’d just dodge it.

That’s why my nickname was Ninja.

Thanks to the message window, I’ve never lost a fight against kids who wanted to pick on me at school, but fighting really isn’t my thing.

I only won because the message warned me-it’s not like I’m good at fighting. Winning or losing, it just feels dirty either way. Fighting really isn’t my style.

I’d much rather just enjoy playing games, reading comics, or novels.

Hmm…

Was it in middle school? Or sixth grade?

I once tried calculating when this countdown started and when it would end.

Since it’s been floating before my eyes since early childhood, I just assumed it was there from birth.

219,000 hours from the moment I was born.

It was set to reach exactly zero the year I turned 25.

After graduating high school, retaking college entrance exams, entering university, and completing military service, my 25th birthday gradually approached.

As time dwindled, it weighed on me more and more.

So last month, I quit the part-time job I’d been doing while waiting to return to school.

What happens when it hits zero?

Could it be… my lifespan?

Am I… going to die?

How could I keep working part-time with thoughts like that?

For that reason, I’m now lying on the bed in my goshiwon near campus, staring at the message.

[00:00:06]

Six seconds left.

What will happen at zero?

Will I die?

[00:00:03]

Three seconds left.

If I die…

I hope it’s painless.

Two.

One.

[00:00:00]

The countdown has ended.

The timer disappeared.

Then, a new message appeared.

[The Chosen One’s protection has ended.]

…?

Chosen One?

Huh. The message vanished.

A new message appeared.

[The apocalypse has begun.]

……What?

……Apocalypse?!