Chapter 4. Unending void and Snowfield

Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! Now that you've reached here, I will be sharing information about Fleeting fragments of memories bloom towards the end without spoiling too much. Firstly, you've probably guessed it by now— it's a slice of life/ romance novel. However, I might add a tiny bit of fantasy/miracle in the distant future, who knows :P

Secondly, this novel will not entirely be about romance as it will also be focused on philosophical idealism, corruption of one's mind and so many inner conflicts. And lastly, I'm not really sure about how long this novel will be, as I will try my best to serialize at least a hundred chapter. But I am thinking about releasing side stories for it.

These days, writing a single chapter takes a lot of time. 

||||| Dammit, where's that emo dude at.... Lunch break's almost over! |||||

Ethan wandered around the hall in fluster with his hands shoved inside his trouser pockets as his gaze darted around in search of Clayton who had disappeared without a word.

But Ethan didn't panic, as he was used to Clayton vanishing without a word. There are usually two outcomes to such phenomenon. That is, Clayton is ditching class either outside or hiding in one of his usual spots inside the school. He doesn't seem to be inside as I just checked all the spots.

"Guess he's outside this time," Ethan muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. Screw it. I'm going with him. Who even needs English class? We can all speak it already.

Ethan pulled his hands from his pockets and began walking towards the exit casually— since going outside the school wasn't prohibited, as countless students go outside to buy snacks during the break. 

However, just as Ethan was about to sprint a sharp voice called out, freezing him mid-step. "What do you think you're doing?" The unfortunate Ethan had coincidentally encountered the English teacher along his way. Ethan spun around slowly, plastering on an innocent grin. "Uh… just stretching my legs a bit before class."

The teacher plastered a grin— seemingly seeing right through Ethan's act as she crossed arms. "Get in. Class is about to start!" 

Caught in the act, Ethan sighed and dragged his feet toward the classroom. As he shuffled in, he shot a silent glare at the empty seat beside him.

Damn, lucky bastard.

Am I dreaming? Clayton found himself falling endlessly through an unending void. He twisted and turned, searching for anything to anchor his senses, but all around him was an abyss of pitch black. The darkness stretched infinitely, swallowing every inch of his surroundings. Does oxygen even exist in this place? he wondered. Yet his breathing remained steady, unnervingly calm.

But there was something else. An unknown presence— unseen and silent, looming within the void, watching him. The feeling of being observed by something unknown sent shivers down his spine, cold sweat pooling on his temples.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the feeling of being watched faded.

Drifting further into the endless expanse, Clayton noticed fragments suspended in the air around him. They floated aimlessly, like brittle leaves caught in an invisible wind, faintly shimmering against the void.

Maybe those fragments can give me clue about this place.

Driven by curiosity and the desperate need to understand, Clayton reached for one of the fragments. However, no matter how hard he tried Clayton could never grasp them. Frustrated, he tried again, the effort leaving him breathless. Cold sweat clung to his skin, his muscles burning with exhaustion.

Dammit. One more! 

With a final lunge, he caught hold of a fragment. The instant his fingers closed around it, a sharp jolt surged through him. His vision blurred as if a thick fog was covering his eyes, his head swam with dizziness as a wave of fatigue crushed him.

His eyelids fluttered, his strength waning— Clayton lost consciousness.

So cold!

Why is it so cold....

Dammit... In his stupor, Clayton's wits slowly returned as his eyelids began to lift up. But all he could see was the through his sleepy eyes were the blue sky. Clayton attempted to turn around, look up and sit up but he's body was still numb after losing consciousness. 

From the looks of it, I'm still dreaming. Then, what happened? Whilst not having control over his limbs, Clayton tried his best to focus and remember what happened in order to escape the shackles placed upon him by the unending void. 

While still being his reverie— whatever he could recall was like a fleeting fog. He found his thoughts difficult to control and introspect as no matter how hard he tried all he could summon was him losing his consciousness after touching that fragment. 

After realizing he couldn't recall anything, throbbing pain inundated Clayton, slowly allowing him to accumulate strength until he was finally able to move. 

All around him, an endless field of snow stretched beyond the horizon. He turned his head, his movements sluggish, and surveyed the barren landscape. The golden rays of sunlight glinted off the frosted expanse, yet the warmth felt distant and unreachable.

No wonder it's so cold... But why does this place feel familiar?

A faint sense of déjà vu tugged at him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. He stumbled to his feet, only for his legs to buckle under another wave of pain. The throbbing in his skull grew sharper, disorienting him.

Once steady, he began to walk, dragging his feet through the thick snow.

Puff, puff, puff.

The sound of his heavy steps echoed in the silence. The cold breeze bit at his exposed face, forcing him to hunch his shoulders and cross his arms for warmth.

Dammit, there's no end to this place.

Clayton muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling in his chest as his eyes inspected the environment desperately for something—anything—that might break the monotony of white.

Then, in the distance, a faint glow caught his eye. A fragment lay half-buried in the snow, its faint light pulsating gently. His heart quickened as he approached it, bending down to scoop it up.

The instant his fingers brushed against the fragment, a blinding light engulfed him.

Clayton found himself watching... himself.

From a third-person perspective, he saw his own figure lying lifelessly on a bed, the room shrouded in darkness save for the glow of a smartphone screen. His other self scrolled through a novel on the device, eyes glued to the LCD screen.

Then, as the scrolling intensified—his lips curved up into a bitter smile— his eyes widened— and tears slid down his cheeks. Clayton recognized that expression instantly— he knew what his other self was reading.

"Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint" Clayton thought. His chest tightened with emotion as the memories surged back—his first love, his first true connection with a story. The bittersweet ache of finishing something so monumental struck him like a wave.

||||| Is this the end? |||||

He watched as his other self, muttered the words aloud, turning off the screen to stare blankly at the ceiling.

Memories of those time when he read that story— the sentences, phrases that belonged deep within Clayton's soul began to tell their stories once again.

Clayton had lived 1866 lives alongside Yoo Jonghyuk.

|||| Tell me you fool. If I continue to regress, will I ever get to meet you again? |||||

|||| That guy is my companion. |||||

|||| Haven't you ever thought how strange it was? Why didn't that fool ever dream of his own happiness? ||||

Clayton had written 3149 chapters for thirteen years just for that one reader alongside Han Sooyoung.

|||| There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. I've forgotten a few by now. However, one thing's for certain. And that is, you who are currently reading these worlds will surely survive. ||||

|||| If this story can really save you, if you regained just a little of your memories and remember us just one more time. Then, I'll keep writing the epilogue for you. Until the end of time, for eternity. ||||

|||| This story is just for that one reader. ||||

Clayton had died over and over again for Kim Dokja's company alongside Kim Dokja.

|||| If I was really a god, then I would be the most incompetent god in the world. The most helpless god in the world who knows everything but couldn't explain anything ||||

|||| Kim Dokja's salvation was cruel. Like rescuing a drowning person with a blade. Those saved by him were inflicted with an unhealable wound. ||||

|||| 2% that number was the proof— and the life— that I remembered my companions far better than my Avatar. ||||

Clayton was a veteran at reading web novels just like Kim Dokja. However, he never read one story for 13 years like him— he read multiple stories— some were great and some were mid. However, one thing's for certain. Clayton had loved ORV far better than the rest. Those times were surely Clayton's happiest times.

As Clayton saw himself crying while reading ORV, he couldn't help but cry as well as the world slowly began to distort, unraveling into the past— just a memory.

"What were you planning on doing with Clayton?!" Ethan's voice rang sharply in Clayton's ears, yanking him back to reality.

The next period is about to start! I was just going to wake him up gently and bring him to class!" the class president, Hermonie, retorted indignantly.

"Will you two shut up!" Clayton's voice cut through their squabble as he stood up, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

Hermonie smirked. "Well, looks like you're finally awake, mister."

Clayton sighed, crossing his arms. "And it looks like you're still the class president. How disappointing."

Announcement: I am very busy with school from now on. That's why, I won't be able to serealize frequently. However, I will try my best!