Dojun Beck / stuck in a fantasy world

Christmas lights blurred past the windshield.

Dojun drove alone.

The city was crowded in a way that irritated him more than traffic ever could. Families crossing streets with shopping bags in their hands. Couples laughing, leaning into each other despite the cold. Friends piling into cafés, red cups in hand, looking like they belonged somewhere.

He gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the road.

His phone vibrated.

Mother.

He exhaled sharply before answering.

“—Yes.”

Her voice was calm and measured, as always. She talked about schedules, about a dinner he had skipped, about how the board expected him to be more visible during the holidays.

Then, without pause, she shifted topics.

“The granddaughter of Chairman Jang,” she said. “You spoke with her earlier today. She seems polite. Well-educated.”

Dojun glanced at the dashboard clock. Earlier today. A call he barely remembered.

“She talked,” he said flatly. “That’s about it.”

There was a brief silence. Not awkward. Calculated.

“This is a good opportunity,” Minha continued. “Their group is stable. Long-term cooperation—”

It’s a good opportunity. It’s good for the group. Everything is always about the group, Dojun.

Something in his body twitched. Irritation bubbled up, familiar and unwelcome, as her usual speech echoed in his head.

“Is it good for me, though?”

The words came out sharper than he intended. His jaw tightened.

“What’s good for the group is good for you, Dojun,” his mother replied calmly, ignoring his irritation. That only made it worse.

“I’m arranging this for you,” she continued, the cool control in her voice making his stomach twist unpleasantly. “You understand why this matters.”

No. Maybe he did. But he didn’t want to.

He laughed under his breath. Dry. Bitter.

“No. You’re arranging this for the company. Like everything else.”

“Watch your tone.”

“For what?” he snapped. “Do you even have an opinion that isn’t about Hajin? Or is this just another board decision with my name slapped on it?”

Aren’t you my mother? Aren’t I your son? Why won’t you ever really look at me?

Silence again. Colder this time.

“You’re being emotional,” Minha said finally. “That won’t help you.”

Dojun’s knuckles whitened on the wheel.

“Right,” he said, the word tasting bitter. “Because you’ve never been wrong.”

He ended the call before she could respond.

The screen went dark.

His foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

Snow began to fall faster. Light at first. Then thicker.

He didn’t slow down.

He wanted to run. From all of it. His mother. His position. The goddamn company—

A green light flashed ahead.

Then a horn. Too loud. Too close.

A truck barreled through the intersection.

Impact.

Metal screamed.

The world fractured into white and black and soundless force.

Everything slowed—too slow, as if someone had dragged time itself down. A sharp ringing filled his ears, and an unnatural calm settled over him. He felt the car flip, the crushing impact as it hit the ground upside down, dull pain shooting through his body—but it all felt distant, like it was happening to someone else.

He closed his eyes.

If this was death, then at least he was finally free.

Darkness swallowed him, and he didn’t resist it.

—

Cold.

That was the first thing he noticed.

Dojun gasped and shot upright.

Snow clung to his coat. His breath fogged in the air. Tall trees surrounded him, branches heavy with white. No road. No car. No city lights.

“What...?”

He patted himself down instinctively. No blood. No pain. His body felt intact. Too intact.

Footsteps crunched through the snow.

He looked up.

Figures emerged from between the trees. Soldiers. Uniformed. Their armor unfamiliar, helmets fully enclosing their heads. No faces visible. No skin. Just steel, leather, and weapons held with practiced ease.

“Hey,” Dojun said sharply. “You—who the hell are you people?”

One of them stepped forward.

“Halt.”

“Where am I?” Dojun demanded. “This some kind of sick joke?”

Another soldier moved behind him, circling.

“You were found trespassing on Celestian land.”

“Celesti—what?” He scoffed. “Listen, I was just in a car accident. I don’t know who dragged me out here, but this is illegal.”

No reaction.

Metal shifted. A blade half-drawn.

“On your knees.”

Dojun stared at them, disbelief hardening into anger.

“I don’t kneel for anyone.”

Hands grabbed him without warning, forcing him down. Snow bit into his knees as he struggled.

“Get your hands off me!”

The forest fell unnaturally silent.

Then—

Hooves.

The soldiers parted instantly, forming a line.

A figure approached on horseback.

Cloaked. Still. Elevated above them all without saying a word.

Dojun looked up, breathing hard, heart pounding.

Only now did it fully register how wrong everything was.

The uniforms. The weapons. The absolute obedience.

His voice dropped, rough with disbelief and fury.

“...Where the fuck am I?”

His eyes locked forward.

“And who the fuck are you?”