A Dark Awakening

Zhao Wei's head throbbed as he stirred awake, his senses dulled by an unsettling haze. He blinked a few times, but the darkness didn't fade. The air was cold, thick, and strangely silent—too silent. No city noise, no distant hum of life, just… void. He groaned, rubbing his temples as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him.

Where the hell am I?

His vision gradually adjusted, and a blurry figure materialized a few feet away. Zhao squinted, trying to make out who—or what—it was. When his eyes finally focused, recognition hit him like a slap. It was the kid. The very same high schooler he had tried to save on the roof.

Rage flared, hot and immediate. Zhao didn't hesitate. He pushed himself to his feet, stormed over, and grabbed the boy by the collar, yanking him up with enough force to lift him off the ground.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Zhao growled, his voice sharp, echoing unnaturally in the emptiness around them. He didn't notice, didn't care. All that mattered was the boy in front of him—the kid who had almost killed them both.

The boy's eyes widened in fear, his lips trembling as he tried to form words. "I-I didn't know anyone was there…" he stammered, voice barely a whisper.

"No shit!" Zhao barked, giving him a rough shake. "You almost got us killed, you idiot!"

The boy flinched, his gaze dropping to the ground as shame and fear washed over him. Zhao's chest heaved, his anger burning hot, but something about the kid's reaction—the trembling, the guilt—gave him pause. With a frustrated huff, he let go, shoving the boy back as he took a step away to gather his thoughts.

It was only then that Zhao noticed something was off.

Very off.

The darkness stretched endlessly in all directions, a void so absolute it made him feel like he was standing on nothing, suspended in space. There was no wind, no smell, no sound except for the lingering echoes of his own voice.

His brows furrowed. "Where the hell are we?" he muttered, more to himself than to the boy.

The kid hesitated, shifting nervously. "W-Well…" he started, voice shaky, "you… you see… you d-died."

Zhao froze. His mind struggled to process what he had just heard. "What?"

The boy recoiled slightly, avoiding Zhao's eyes. "You didn't make it," he mumbled, barely audible. "We fell, and… you didn't survive."

Zhao's heart pounded in his chest, disbelief and confusion swirling in his mind. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to stay calm. "Don't screw with me, kid," he warned, his voice like ice. "What do you mean, I didn't make it?"

"I-I'm sorry!" the boy yelped, taking a step back. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

Zhao ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. None of this made sense. He could still feel the ache in his head, still hear his own breathing. How could he be dead? He wasn't ready to believe it—not yet. He needed answers.

Taking a deep breath, Zhao tried to steady himself. "Alright," he said slowly, his tone laced with irritation. "Explain this to me. If I'm dead, then why am I still standing here, talking to you?"

The boy hesitated again, clearly unsure how to respond. "I… I don't know," he admitted. "I just… I woke up here, and then you showed up. That's all I know, I swear!"

Zhao exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples again. This was too much—too fucking much. He needed a moment to think, to process what was happening. But before he could, the boy's next words made his blood run cold.

"Wait… I said you died, not we…"

Zhao's eyes snapped to the boy, narrowing dangerously. "What do you mean, you didn't die?" he asked, his voice low and deadly.

The boy flinched under Zhao's glare, nodding slowly. "I-I think I survived. You're the only one who…" He trailed off, his voice faltering under the weight of his own words.

For a moment, Zhao just stared at him, his mind racing. He had jumped to save this kid, risked his life—and now he was dead while the boy got to live? Anger and disbelief churned in his gut, but beneath it all, a cold, sinking realization began to settle.

"Unbelievable," Zhao muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I save your life, and I'm the one who ends up dead. Figures."

He barely noticed the boy shifting awkwardly on his feet until the kid finally spoke up. "How about we make a deal?"

Zhao froze, his eyes narrowing as he turned to glare at the boy. "What?" he asked.

The boy gulped but pressed on. "How about I give you my life… but in return, you do me some favor?"

For a moment, Zhao just stared at him, the words hanging in the air like a bad joke waiting for a punchline.

Give me his life?

Do him a favor?

The audacity.

It was like the kid had forgotten that Zhao was dead because of him in the first place.

"You've got to be kidding me," Zhao hissed through gritted teeth, his frustration boiling over. He took a step forward, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The kid backed up instinctively, but Zhao wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. "You think you're in any position to bargain, huh? After getting me killed, you have the nerve to stand there and suggest this crap?"

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but Zhao wasn't in the mood to hear another word. He cut him off sharply. "If another word comes out of that flirty mouth of yours, I'll kill you myself."

The kid yelped, flinching as if Zhao had physically struck him. He quickly looked down, too scared to meet Zhao's eyes again.

There was a tense silence, the kind that could stretch for miles in the void they were standing in. Zhao ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in sheer frustration. His heart pounded in his chest, anger mingling with confusion and exhaustion.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he swore under his breath, each word punctuated by a wave of frustration. He had never been this stressed in his entire life. Not even after two years of constant job rejections or the countless nights spent wondering if he would ever catch a break.

This—this was something else entirely.