Slid—an unseen force, swift and violent, surged through the rusty shutter with a metallic groan that echoed like the roar of an ancient beast awakening from eons of slumber. In a single, terrifying heartbeat, the buzzing swarm of insects just outside vanished—disintegrated, erased from existence as if they had never been born. What followed wasn't silence in the usual sense, but a monstrous absence—an oppressive void so sharp, so absolute, it rang inside Han's skull like a buried scream clawing its way up from the earth's molten core, searching for a mouth to escape from.
He gasped, eyes wide and wild. Pupils blown with primal terror. His body froze, instincts tangled in a net of dread and confusion. The air had thickened—like a soaked cloth laid over his face, suffocating and damp, just before the coming storm.
"What...?" he whispered, though no sound escaped the trembling line of his lips. His hand rose hesitantly, reaching into the nothingness before him—and then, in a flash, everything shattered, folding in on itself like a crumbling dream falling into pieces too small to gather.
It had been a hallucination. A cruel mirage crafted by solitude, by time, by a mind slowly fracturing under the unrelenting pressure of its own thoughts. Chest heaving, eyes darting, Han sat in the choking quiet of his cell, the silence around him now heavy with judgment.
"Sigh... sigh..." he muttered to himself, trying to ground his spinning thoughts. "Yeah... not real. None of it's real. Just a dream..."
His voice sounded like it came from someone long dead, resurrected only to remind him of pain.
Reality returned like a prison guard's fist—hard, mechanical, unfeeling. A steel tray clanged through the cell door slot, crashing to the ground with a dull thud. Mealtime. Han recognized it only because hunger gnawed at his insides like starving rats chewing through live wire.
But food didn't matter. Not anymore. Something older, something deeper, stirred in his soul. Something ancient, angry, and awake.
Driven by a desperation he couldn't name or tame, Han crawled toward the shutter, each inch forward pulled from some stubborn, defiant part of himself.
"Help!" he cried, his voice cracked and raw. "Please, someone—anyone!"
Crack! A rod struck his face. Sudden. Brutal. The world tilted off its axis. Pain exploded across his cheek like a wildfire, and blood flooded his mouth with a bitter warmth.
Then came a voice—calm, cold, and disturbingly young.
"Will you obey?"
The words echoed like a curse cast from a throne of bone.
Han blinked. "Yes..." he thought numbly. "If I obey, maybe it'll stop... maybe this ends... maybe this nightmare finally ends."
Shaking, trembling, crawling forward again like a broken insect beneath the gaze of gods.
"I will... I will o—"
Bam!! A savage kick to the gut. His breath ripped from his lungs. Fire licked up his spine. He screamed, and the sound felt like it was being torn from his soul.
The beatings didn't stop. Each strike blurred the world further. Shapes melted. Colors bled. Time twisted.
Then—
His head spun. Market stalls. Dust hanging thick in the air. The scent of spices and smoke.
"Oh right...I...I was stealing food... and then got caught..."
A figure burst onto the scene. She screamed. Threw stones. Fought like a wild flame.
"Stop it! He's just a child! Please!"
"Mother!?"
"No! Don't beg!" Han choked out. "Mom, don't!" He screamed.
Tears streamed down his face. Blood ran from his lips. He reached toward her, voice trembling.
But she stood tall and defiant, eyes blazing.
"You think I'd beg a fruit seller?" she spat.
Wham! A sharp uppercut cracked into the man's jaw. He dropped, stunned.
"Take your rotting fruits and crawl home!" she screamed, pelting him with bruised apples and spoiled oranges. The man groaned, curling up on the ground.
Then she kicked him—right in the groin.
"Aghhh!!" he wailed, folding like paper grabbing the jewels he couldn't protect.
She stood tall. Her eyes burned with fire. Her fists rained fury.
"Smiling, she turned to Han and grabbed his hand." And ran through the alleys. Through sun and smoke. Laughter in her voice, like music he thought he'd forgotten, Han could barely breathe, his body aching—but a smile crept across his battered face.
Near an old tea stall patched with tin sheets, they stopped. She knelt and pulled a small bundle from her shawl..
"Got your favorites," she said with a wink..
Inside were perfectly steamed dumplings, fragrant with spice, their dough warm and tender. Sticky rice balls and a sweet slice of yam completed the meal.
Han's eyes widened.
"Where did you get these?"
"Don't ask. Just eat."
He did. He devoured them like sacred offerings. Like prayers.
"This... this is heaven!." he murmured, his voice full of childlike awe.
His mother laughed, brushing a leaf from his hair. "You always say that."
They sat on an overturned crate. The sun turned golden and soft, casting long, stretching shadows. He shared the rice balls with her, though she insisted he eat more.
"You need it more," she said gently.
"I need you more," he replied.
She smiled. "Then stay. Stay here."
"What?" he asked, blinking.
She leaned in, tying his hair back, her voice suddenly calm and still. "You can stay forever, my dear son."
Han blinked. The market faded. The people disappeared. A thick silence crept in.
He stood in an empty street.
No vendors. No noise. Just silence.
He turned to her.
"Is something wrong, my dear son?" she asked, too calm.
"No, Mother," he replied, smiling as a boy he's age should.
"Let's walk, Mother," he said.
"Alright. Shall we?" she said, offering her hand.
"You were really cool today," he said as they walked toward a growing sunset"
"Really? I—"
"I remember this day," he interrupted,"it's the last memory i have of you" voice trembling. "But it didn't happen like this. You were sick. I wanted to get you some fruits so I decided to steal. But got caught. And you came while I was being beaten... and you bowed for me."
"I always obeyed."
"I know."
"I always bowed down for you."
"Became a slave for me." he whispered.
"Yes," she nodded. "So you wouldn't become one. And you still don't have to" she said looking at Han.
"Stay here... forever in this dream," she said. "Here, we live the lives we deserved."
"I can't," Han said with a blank expression.
"Why?" she asked as the sun expanded, devouring the street.
"I can't obey."
"Why?" she repeated.
"Because I can't."
"Why!!!" she screamed, her voice echoing, her face blank looking down at han.
"Because... if I obey... i will be like you, and Everything you did will be meaningless. I don't want to lose you again... Mother, i... don't want to lose myself."
She stepped closer. Her body began to disintegrate from the hand up, flickering like glowing ash in the wind.
"Come with me, son. This is better than that suffering," she said gently.
Han was silent, torn from inside.
"Do you want to suffer?" she asked again.
"No," he replied softly.
"Then are you just going to go and obey them?" she asked with the same blank expression. "Is being a slave better than a happy dream?"
"I can't choose this either," Han said, eyes steady now. "That would mean giving in to my own helplessness." He took a step back. "It's far worse to be a slave to a situation—because that would mean giving up on life itself."
I want to eat delicious food, travel, have lots and lots of fun and eventually fall in love and have a happy family...I...I..want to live! not just exist!! I want to...DREAM!!!
She smiled holding han's hand firmly, then let go my dear son, she said, Han complied with sadness in his eyes.
"I will always love you, my dear son." Her final whisper, echoed like heavenly chimes as the world dissolved into the blazing sun's radiance.
DARKNESS.
Han awoke once again in darkness with a voice echoing in his ear like thunder from beyond, a young voice:
"Will you obey?"
Han rose, bloodied but steady. Fire in his eyes.
"I will... not," he growled.
"I will not obey!! No matter what!!!" Struggling han screamed these words with resilience right before losing consciousness.