This day couldn’t possibly get any worse—or so you thought.

Damn that show. The one you absolutely had to finish, no matter how late it got. The one that had you ignoring the judgmental glare of your digital clock, its glowing numbers scolding you every time you dared to glance at them. You could swear you heard its disapproval with each passing minute.

1:32. "You should really think about work tomorrow."

2:27. "You’re going to regret this. The show isn’t going anywhere—just close the damn laptop."

3:17. "You’re supposed to be a responsible adult at your big age."

4:42. "What a disappointment."

Of course, you overslept.

This part of Seoul was always the same at 8 a.m.—hectic, noisy, rushing. Shoved out of the subway car along with the morning crowd, you picked up your pace, weaving toward the exit. Here you were, seated at your desk, skimming through emails and sipping on much-needed coffee. The April sun warmed your back through the window. The image in your head was shattered the moment someone bumped into you, sending your phone slipping from your grasp and knocking the breath from your lungs.

You weren’t the only one in a hurry today.

Cursing under your breath, you hurriedly checked the device for cracks, nudging the heavy door open with your shoulder. A new phone wasn’t in the budget. Not yet. As a light breeze brushed against your skin, you lifted your gaze to the street, and…

Nothing?

With a strange sinking feeling in your stomach, you pulled out your earbuds, the upbeat K-pop melody abruptly cutting off. A deafening silence crawled over your skin, sending a rush of goosebumps up your arms. You blinked, turned on your heels, scanning the world around you.

Nothing. No people, no animals. No movement at all.