Work Text:
You open your eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. The room is bathed in an eerie green glow, reminiscent of a certain hidden hour in a game you just played, right before diving face first onto your fluffy pillow and falling asleep.
You blink.
This is not your room. Your room, with the PC setup you painstakingly built, the walls neatly decorated with shelves holding your precious figures and favorite manga collections does not exist right now.
Panicked, you place your palms on the bed (which was definitely not as soft as your own’s) and push yourself up, letting your eyes dart around, scanning your surroundings.
The more you stare at everything in the room, the more you feel a sense of impending déjà vu. You’ve seen all these items before. You’ve seen this entire room before. However, this is not your room.
You are familiar with everything, but you know this room is just mere pixels on a screen. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be.
A chill runs down your spine.
Why are you suddenly in a place that looks like the exact replica of the one from the game you had just played? Was this just a scarily accurate creation of your own mind, drowning your consciousness into a dream so elaborate it feels like reality?
You fling the blue blanket off and, in a few long strides, you clamber your way to the mirror. Your palms are starting to sweat. Your breaths quicken. You swallow and place your hands on the cold edges of the sink, fingers clinging on in a tight grip.
Finally, you raise your head.
And you don’t see yourself.
Gray eyes with pupils blown in surprise and dread stare back at you. Blue hair effortlessly falls across the right side of your face and cover part of your right eye. Your jaw drops slightly, the action perfectly reflecting on the person in the mirror.
“Makoto…?” You mouth, and a voice you only ever heard through your headphones tumble from your lips.
Very obviously not your own.
You bring your hand up and place it on your cheek, hypnotized by seeing how your actions are replicated exactly in the mirror.
This is not you. You are not a character in a video game. You are the one controlling Makoto Yuki.
You are just the player.
“Hi there.”
The voice of a young boy startles you. With your senses still heightened, you snap your head back. A young boy with short black hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in striped pajamas stare back at you. You slowly turn your whole body to face him.
You know this character. You’ve seen him in your playthrough. You’ve “spoken” with him before.
Pharos.
Seeing him from the other side of the screen, you always thought that he was a mysterious little boy, most likely important to the story’s narrative, but not someone who could be truly dangerous. You had even jokingly dubbed him your main character’s “sleep paralysis demon”. At the current point in your playthrough, this boy has not expressed any malevolence towards you(r main character). He’s always pleasant with Makoto Yuki, always eager to talk with him, to share information with him, and to be friends with him.
Unfortunately, you can’t say the same for your current situation.
The boy’s eyes twitch, his initial, slightly happier demeanor with a sprinkle of enthusiasm shifting in the blink of an eye to one more distant, and much more hostile.
“You’re not…”
Before you could even think of a reply, a condescending scoff fell from the boy’s lips.
“How dare you.”
You subconsciously take a step back. Pharos’s tone is enough to chill you to the bone. You can feel the air around you shift, building up into an uncomfortable tension, much like a rubber band getting stretched beyond its limit.
His pale blue eyes, as cold and piercing as a blizzard, gets brighter. For someone so small, you wonder how his mere presence can unsettle you so much. Pharos’s expression betrays no emotions. His lips are neither turned down nor up, and his hands are neatly clasped behind his back. If you don’t know better, you would think he just wants to have a casual conversation.
Fortunately, you do know better.
“How dare you steal his body.”
You want to tell him it wasn’t your choice. You just woke up here! You have no intentions of taking over anyone’s body. You’re plenty content with your own life.
However, your (Makoto’s) voice gets stuck in your throat. The more you stare at Pharos the more adrenaline rushes through your veins and gear you up into flight mode. He merely stands there, unmoving, hands still clasped behind his back.
There’s no questioning the suffocating pressure of the Dark Hour bending to Pharos’s will. Beyond his stare, his anger slowly simmers and builds, threatening to boil over at any second.
“Get out.”
Panicked, you raise your arms to shield your face and squeeze your eyes shut. Is this how things end? Are your final moments going to be in an unfamiliar world, trapped in an unfamiliar body, with the last thing you see being a young boy full of resentment aiming all his hostility towards you?
You black out.
Slowly, you open your eyes. A breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding is released in one long, relieved huff.
You see a familiar ceiling. You push yourself up and take in everything around you. Your beloved PC setup, your figure and manga collections, the empty instant ramen cup you didn’t bother to clean up before going to sleep last night are all accounted for.
You breathe in deeply and breathe out. You’re home, and you’re safe.
Recalling what you just experienced, you feel shivers run down your whole body. Never would you have thought that this one character could act so cold, especially since he’s never hostile towards Makoto Yuki.
Was everything you just experienced really just a dream? You can still vividly recall the cool surface of Makoto’s sink, the softness of Makoto’s cheek and, you recall with a slight shiver, Pharos’s frigid glare.
You lightly slap your own cheeks with both of your palms and shake your head.
Of course, there’s no such thing as transmigrating into a video game character. This is real life. It must have just been a very realistic dream. The mind is a powerful instrument after all.
You’re still going to continue the game, obviously. This just makes you more curious about the mysterious boy. The next time you boot up the game, you’ll be paying a lot more attention to that specific character, and to his Death Social Link.
You’re relieved it was just a dream after all.