It was dark and cold.

Quiet and dreadful.

In a feeling that seemed to gather all the sinister things in the world, Yuder faintly felt the chilly fingertips touching his cheek.

It was not bare skin, but the touch of a glove made of lifeless, stitched leather. The all too familiar, and therefore dreadful sensation, awakened a negative emotion in Yuder’s faint unconsciousness.

As if recognizing this, someone chuckled, a change perceived not by sound but by the shift in the air that brushed his skin. That strange yet oddly familiar sensation puzzled Yuder.

'And where am I?' he wondered.

Yuder opened his eyes. Beyond the hazy view, only the formless, swaying darkness was visible. Whether lying down or standing up was indistinguishable, only the chilly sensation touching his face was clear. Slowly rolling his eyes, Yuder realized that what was caressing his cheek was a hand wrapped in a white leather glove.

Yes, it was a hand.

There was no body where it should have been attached. The hand, which was alone in the darkness as if someone had cut it off, was much larger than an ordinary person’s and was strangely beautiful.

And Yuder had seen that glove before.

He could only recall that fact, not where he had seen it. As he stared blankly, the fingers moved again, brushing his cheek. The touch, cold and corpse-like, sent shivers down his spine, triggering a flood of memories.

It was an object Yuder had touched and felt countless times, even familiar with the minute feel of its stitched leather. Yet, it shouldn't have been here.

Because...

'Kishiar.'

The name echoed faintly in his mind and then faded away.

Yes, those white gloves always adorned the hands of a man who concealed his bare skin until his last breath. The hands that had gripped and clawed at Yuder but never parted from him, their smell, their texture...

As soon as he remembered that, Yuder smelled a rancid blood scent, stale dust, and rotten stench at the same time. The moment he swallowed his breath as if he was about to vomit, the hand that had touched his cheek fell away. Then, as if it were a lie, all the smells disappeared and the sensation that was about to boil up subsided again.

But now his mind was clearer than before. Yuder was certain that the glove and hand before him were known to him.

It was undoubtedly Kishiar's hand. But the current Kishiar La Orr didn't wear such gloves. Even at parties, he preferred bare hands, adorned with rings and bracelets. Touching his hand, one would feel warm blood flowing through smooth, firm skin, not the cold leather.

Those were the hands of a swordsman, seemingly unscarred yet betraying countless battles upon touch.

Now, they were just a memory, belonging to a man long dead, who never removed those gloves.

Yuder's breath quickened. Silently gazing at the still-fluttering glove, he slowly opened his mouth.

Kishiar.

His silent call flowed out, and in response, the white glove moved subtly. When it touched Yuder's cheek again, he bit his lip at the faintly wafting scent but did not turn away. R̃�

As if sensing his resolve to remain still, the hand within the white glove slowly descended. It gently traced over Yuder's bitten lips, down his jawline, and finally came to rest upon his neck.

Yuder felt a momentary fear that the hand might strangle him, but no such thing happened. The gloved hand merely rested on his skin, as if to feel the pulsing of his heartbeat.

‘…’

A sudden thought struck him – this had happened before. Yes, definitely. Those cold hands occasionally touched him like this, seemingly feeling his breath or, perhaps, contemplating his death.

Cold and chilling, devoid of warmth, the hand would linger for a while before disappearing, leaving his side.

It was the hand of the man he had killed, departing without a word.

It's you.

This realization hit him suddenly.

Immediately after, the air around him seemed to stir and change, reminiscent of the laughter he had felt with his eyes closed, yet slightly different.

The fingers in the glove slowly curled, except for the forefinger, which gently scraped across his skin. Yuder, who had been feeling this without even breathing, realized a bit late that the movement had a certain pattern.

It was... letters.

The finger moved so distinctly that he couldn't help but realize it was tracing letters, and finally completed the stroke of the last letter. Now Yuder understood its meaning.

The finger-written message read:

‘Correct.’

The moment he realized it was a response to his thoughts, the hand gripped his neck and pushed him, sending his body plummeting into pitch-black darkness.

Yuder closed his eyes in the fall, only to open them again amid unrealistically bright sunlight.

‘...A dream?’

He couldn't move for a long time, even as he looked into those warm, red eyes. It took too long to regain a sense of reality.

His heart pounded as if gripped by fear. Noticing something odd about Yuder's reaction, Kishiar, who had been lying facing him, furrowed his brows and gently caressed Yuder's cheek.

“Yuder?”

As soon as Kishiar’s hand touched him, Yuder stiffened his shoulders and sat up abruptly. The breath he had been holding finally burst out, and cold sweat began to pour out.

“...”

“Yuder. What's wrong?”

“Commander.”

His voice came out hoarse and heavy.

“Yes, it's me.”

Kishiar, who had moved to embrace him, hesitated and then stood still, observing Yuder's reaction. He slowly reached out and took Yuder's hand. The warmth of the skin contact gradually brought heat back to Yuder's cold flesh.

Reality. It was only then that the touch felt real, his breathing normalized, and his heartbeat returned to its usual pace.

Only then did Yuder put some strength into his hand and held Kishiar’s hand. As he exhaled deeply, Kishiar finally came a little closer and hugged his shoulder.

The unique, cool scent of Kishiar wafted over him, a fragrance only Awakener with a second gender like him could perceive. Familiar and intricately mixed, the recognition of his unique scent eased Yuder's mind.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

"Did you feel anything while I was asleep?"

Yuder asked, wondering if Kishiar had sensed anything through the thread of emotion and connection between them. However, Kishiar silently shook his head.

"Not at all."

"And you didn't have any strange dreams either."

"I had no dreams at all. I just lay there with my eyes closed until you woke up. I thought you were sleeping peacefully, but then you suddenly opened your eyes and stopped breathing. You can't imagine how startled I was."

"…I see."

So, the dream he had was solely his own experience.

It was indeed a strange dream. A dream featuring only the gloved hand of Kishiar from his previous life. Could it really have been just a nightmare?

"Can you tell me what dream you had?"

"…"

Despite Kishiar's question, Yuder found it difficult to speak. The subject of the dream made him hesitant.

He was still in a state of confusion, unsure if it was wise to speak about something he didn't fully understand himself. He lacked confidence in providing a clear, objective explanation. Moreover, he didn't even know where to begin, which was a significant problem.

Explaining in such a state would be fruitless for both of them. Kishiar would try to comfort Yuder in any situation, but Yuder didn't want him to be overly concerned about his confusion.

Ultimately, the best course seemed to be for Yuder to sort out his thoughts and feelings first.

He raised his hand to his face, as if washing away the dryness, then spoke.

“Can I tell you after I… sort it out a bit? I think I need some time to think.”

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[BL] Cloudless Sky

Jin Soram, the top-ranked hunter representing South Korea's Rift Phenomenon Management Headquarters, is stronger than anyone else and lazier than anyone else. As soon as he arrives at the office, he buries himself under a blanket and falls asleep. When he goes out on a mission, he causes accidents and returns to the office, often shirking his duties.

"Do you know how it feels to play a game that's already messed up? ...Anyway, the next round will come, so this time, I'm just going to play it recklessly."

In fact, his true identity is someone who has regressed through three lives, trying to save the world from the Great Rift but failing each time. After repeating a life where he couldn't sleep peacefully even for a day, he became completely exhausted before this life even began.

"I know. You worked hard, Jin Soram."

And then there's Han Tae-un, the man who saved Soram and died in all three previous lives. As he did in every life, he comes to Soram's side once again. The Great Rift is approaching soon. It's impossible to resolve it in this life without any preparation. Soram vows to save Tae-un in this life and die himself. At least, he won't let Tae-un save a failure like himself again.

"For now, until then, let's sleep..."

As Soram sluggishly lives his life waiting for that moment, a gradual change occurs in his heart.

'I thought this was a messed-up round... but I want to live a little longer here.'

[BL] Bermuda

Leonardo Blaine, the true war hero of the Raina Logia Empire and the commander of the Armsilver 11th Squad, is dishonorably discharged for disobeying orders during the final battle that could have led the Empire to victory in the territorial war. People criticize and point fingers at him, and after being released on parole from prison, he disappears without a trace.

Three years later, his name has been forgotten by the world. The Council has been persistently pursuing him, but he has proven difficult to capture. Frustrated by this, Hugo Agrizendro, the commander of the Council's army, decides to personally apprehend him.

"Since when have you been watching me?"

Leonardo was calculative and astute, so it wouldn't be surprising if he had been observing Hugo for some time now. However, Leonardo's answer was something that even Hugo had not anticipated.

"From the very beginning."

[BL] The Mist (Same author as Turning)

In the autumn of his 18th year, after winning the high school kendo championship finals, an unexpected accident occurred.

Due to that incident, Kang Mu-heon lost one of his legs, his closest friend, and his promising future. He closed off his heart and shut himself away alone.

A few years later, the world's first real virtual reality game <THE MIST> was announced, where even those with physical disabilities could play in healthy bodies.

By chance, Kang Mu-heon encountered it and began a new life as the mage Kapros, facing unexpected meetings, reunions, and days of change....

***

"Why was someone like you born into this world to make me so miserable? Do you understand when I say it like this?! You were born with talent for the sword, a bright personality, everything - you must have been laughing at me always lagging behind! Did you even know how pathetic I felt because of your stupid hypocrisy? A genius? What does any of that matter!"

Seung-jo's cries stabbed at his heart, wailing as if he were crying even though he wasn't, but there was no time to think further. He quickly clutched my stomach, got up, and ran towards him.

He looked surprised for a moment, but he was desperate.

Just as the car was about to reach us, he shoved Seung-jo hard. Right after Seung-jo fell and rolled away with wide, startled eyes—

Screech!

Bang! With an impact that felt like his whole body was being shattered, he flew through the air.

And in that brief yet long moment of floating in space, he remembered his reflection in Seung-jo's eyes for the last time.......

***

[ Then in THE MIST, may you become the master of infinite possibilities. ]

Whoosh!

When his vision returned after everything went white, he was standing in the middle of a bustling town. Amidst the clamor, countless people were busily going about their business here and there.

He looked down at himself, standing dazed and wearing clothes of unknown origin. When he touched the sleeve, he felt the texture of fabric as real as reality. His hair felt the same, and even when he touched the wall of a nearby house, he could clearly feel the solid, cold surface.

Is this... VT?

It seemed like a joke. It truly felt as if he had come to another world and was touching everything.

As he stood there unable to think due to the shock, he suddenly remembered the biggest reason he had decided to play this game, and snapped back to attention. His two legs were still as they had been when he first stood.

'Can I really walk?'

He first stepped out with his left foot, then very slowly put strength into his heavy right foot. It felt like cold sweat was running down his spine.

And then,

He lifted it,

Moved it,

And took another step to touch the ground again.

So easily. As if there had never been any problem with this leg from the beginning.

"Ah..."

At that moment, something that was neither joy nor emotion shot up his spine. Suddenly feeling a lump in his throat, he lowered his head and leaned against the wall. His right foot, bearing his weight, was doing its job perfectly.

"..."

Holding back the tightness in his throat, he took another step.

It didn't hurt. It wasn't heavy. His leg was no longer a useless piece of wood that ached.

Damn it, to be able to walk so easily like this.

To be able to run so easily like this.

He had wished even in his dreams for the day to come when he could walk and run like this again.

And so he walked again, kept walking, slowly getting faster, until finally he started running like a madman through the entire town.

***

"Kap. ...There seems to be a misunderstanding. That's not what I meant."

Just as he was thinking he should throw a punch, Yu-wan sighed with a troubled look and said.

A misunderstanding? How could it be a misunderstanding when he said with his own mouth that he didn't think of me as a friend?

"I didn't expect to receive such a question suddenly, so my explanation was probably too brief. Let me rephrase."

Yu-wan reached out his hand, his face completely changed from before - intense yet resolute - as he stared at him. As he didn't reject the hand suddenly approaching his face and kept his gaze fixed, his cool large hand touched his cheek completely.

A shiver ran down his spine at that moment.

"I'm sorry to say this to you, but I don't see you only as a friend. ...This is the complete answer."

Check out the new project 2:

[BL] Cloudless Sky

Jin Soram, the top-ranked hunter representing South Korea's Rift Phenomenon Management Headquarters, is stronger than anyone else and lazier than anyone else. As soon as he arrives at the office, he buries himself under a blanket and falls asleep. When he goes out on a mission, he causes accidents and returns to the office, often shirking his duties.

"Do you know how it feels to play a game that's already messed up? ...Anyway, the next round will come, so this time, I'm just going to play it recklessly."

In fact, his true identity is someone who has regressed through three lives, trying to save the world from the Great Rift but failing each time. After repeating a life where he couldn't sleep peacefully even for a day, he became completely exhausted before this life even began.

"I know. You worked hard, Jin Soram."

And then there's Han Tae-un, the man who saved Soram and died in all three previous lives. As he did in every life, he comes to Soram's side once again. The Great Rift is approaching soon. It's impossible to resolve it in this life without any preparation. Soram vows to save Tae-un in this life and die himself. At least, he won't let Tae-un save a failure like himself again.

"For now, until then, let's sleep..."

As Soram sluggishly lives his life waiting for that moment, a gradual change occurs in his heart.

'I thought this was a messed-up round... but I want to live a little longer here.'