Orv: Laughter is chaos

Tom Révain's POV

The screeching stopped.

So did the train.

It didn't feel like a regular stop either. Not the smooth slowing-down before a station. No—this was sudden. Jarring. Like the train had slammed into something invisible and just stuck there.

My body moved on instinct.

I grabbed Kim Dokja's arm and yanked him gently but firmly behind me, stepping forward to block whatever was ahead.

"Stay behind me," I muttered. My voice was calm, but my whole body had gone rigid. Alert.

He didn't argue.

Smart.

I could feel his breath just behind my shoulder. Shaky. He was trying to hide it, but I caught it anyway.

All around us, the car filled with murmurs.

Confused passengers. Nervous laughter. Someone cursed in Korean. A mother hushed her child. Phones flicked on one by one, the pale glow of screens casting strange, flickering light on wide-eyed faces.

I pulled out my own phone.

6:59 PM.

Still one minute.

Just one.

I swept my eyes around the cabin.

People were confused. Tense. But no one was panicking yet. Not yet.

Except me.

Because I knew.

Because I'd read the message.

Because something was wrong.

And not in the normal way.

In the fictional way.

My heart thudded as I scanned the car.

Rows of passengers. Metal poles. Flickering emergency lights outside the windows. Nothing seemed off at first glance—

But that was the problem.

It felt too quiet.

Like the world was holding its breath.

Then—

[Ding.]

The system chime rang again.

A soft, cheerful tone that suddenly felt deeply unnatural.

And on my phone—

[7:00 PM KST]

The moment ticked over.

The screen went black.

And a new message appeared.

One I didn't open.

Not yet.

Not while Kim Dokja was still standing behind me.

"Dokja," I said, voice low. "Whatever happens next... just trust me for now."

Kim Dokja's POV

It all happened so fast, my brain barely had time to catch up.

One moment, the train was filled with nervous energy—the kind that fizzles when the lights flicker and the train stops unexpectedly. The next?

Kiiiiik—!

Metal screamed.

The train jerked.

And before I could react, a hand wrapped around my arm.

Firm. Protective.

Tom.

I didn't even realize I had stumbled until he pulled me back—behind him—like he knew something was coming. Like his body had moved on instinct, before his brain could explain why.

And I didn't argue.

I didn't even think to.

I just let him shield me.

I hated how safe it felt.

Even worse, I hated how unusual that feeling was.

No one had ever pulled me behind them like that. No one had ever stood in front of me. Not my classmates. Not my colleagues. Not my family. For ten years, the only person who protected Kim Dokja was Kim Dokja.

But now...?

He stood like a wall in front of me. Not afraid. Not even flinching.

Why?

Why did someone I'd only just met move so quickly to protect me?

I tried to see his face, but all I caught was the reflection of phone screens lighting up across the train like scattered fireflies.

Everyone was turning theirs on.

So did I.

The time hit me like a blow to the chest:

7:00 PM.

It's time.

And then—

[You have one new message.]

No sender. No subject line.

My fingers trembled.

I swallowed.

This was it.

The point where fiction stopped being fiction.

The point where reality cracked.

The train lights went completely dark.

Gasps echoed in the cabin. Someone screamed.

But all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears... and Tom's voice:

"Dokja. Whatever happens next... just trust me for now."

I stared at him, silhouetted by the glow of my screen, and for the first time in years, I didn't feel completely alone.

Just then, a crackling sound broke through the silence.

The subway's intercom system sputtered to life with static, followed by the voice of the engineer:

"Attention all passengers. Due to a temporary malfunction, the train has stopped. Please remain calm. Power will be restored shortly..."

Tom Révain's POV

Everything stilled.

People shifted, murmured quietly, clutching their phones or bags. Some sat back down, others stood frozen in place, but the tension in the air slowly began to loosen its grip.

Even Kim Dokja, still holding onto my sleeve, let out a soft, shaky sigh of relief.

"It's fine," he whispered under his breath, more to himself than to me. "It isn't a big deal... Now an apology will air, and the lights'll come back on..."

His grip on my arm tightened slightly—like he needed to believe it

But I didn't say anything.

I just stared ahead, frowning. Because I knew.

This wasn't just a blackout.

This was the beginning.

This was Chapter One.

Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse, Omniscient Reader was starting.

Then—

BZZT. —e-everyone... run away... Run...!—

The announcement returned, but this time the voice was frantic—broken.

A scream cut through the speakers.

Something wet and horrific cracked at the end.

And then—

BEEP—

Silence.

The broadcast cut out.

Someone screamed from another car.

The lights stayed out.

And I could feel Kim Dokja's hand twitch against my sleeve.

"Kim Dokja, stay close."

My voice was low, steady. I didn't look back.

Because I felt it. In my bones. In my spine. In the electricity clinging to the air like static.

It was here.

Right on time.

7:00 PM.

A blinding light exploded from the front of the subway train.

BOOM.

A drumming sound like thunder rolled through the tunnel. The train shook violently—windows rattling, lights bursting one by one in sharp pops. People screamed.

And then—finally—they heard it.

Not just me.

Not just Dokja.

Everyone.

Ding—!

The sound wasn't mechanical. It wasn't even natural.

It was... a voice. An announcement in their minds.

As if someone had opened a speaker inside their thoughts.

[The free service of Planetary System 8612 has been terminated.]

[The Main Scenario has started.]

Gasps.

Crying.

Confusion spreading like a virus.

I turned just enough to glance back at Kim Dokja—his eyes wide, glowing faintly in the dark from his screen. Not terrified. Not like the others.

No—he looked like someone seeing a ghost they'd read about.

Because he had.

And so had I.

I watched his lips silently mouth the words, eyes fixed on the screen.

"It's real..."

My grip on his wrist tightened without realizing it.

I didn't want to lose him in the chaos.

Because this wasn't just the start of the apocalypse.

This was the moment the story became reality.

And I wasn't supposed to be here.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Focus. It's starting.

The air was heavy. Not just metaphorically—there was a pressure, a weight settling on everything. Fear, confusion, disbelief. The lights were still out, but the glow of smartphones flickered like stars in a dead sky.

I activated my memory recall.

Images flashed behind my eyes.

Chapter 2.

The subway platform. The panicked crowd. The first death.

"...Calm down," I muttered under my breath. "You know what happens. Just breathe."

A soft shiver crawled down my back. I knew what was coming.

In the novel—no, in ORV or TWSA—this is where the "survival probability calculation" begins. Where the dokkaebi shows up. Where the mass panic turns into massacre.

I blinked and deactivated the memory stream. Even with prep, the rush of knowledge was overwhelming.

[THE MAIN SCENARIO HAS BEGUN.]

[MAIN SCENARIO #1 – PROOF OF VALUE]

Goal: Kill one living organism.

Time Limit: 30 minutes.

Reward: 300 coins.

Failure: Death.

There it was.

The countdown had begun.

I sucked in another breath, steadying myself. This was no longer fiction. No longer safe behind a screen.

"Kim Dokja," I said firmly, turning toward him. "Stay close."

I gritted my teeth, heart thundering in my chest as I shoved Kim Dokja backward—hard—toward the far end of the subway car.

"Stay back!" I hissed. "Don't argue—just go."

He stumbled but didn't resist. Smart. He looked stunned, but not stupid.

Good. Because right now, stupidity got you killed.

I turned, scanning the train like my life depended on it.

Because it did.

[Main Scenario #1 – Proof of Value]

Objective: Kill one living organism within 30 minutes.

Kill or be killed. That was the rule. And I knew how it ended. The memory was burnt into me like fire:

Only five survivors.

I gritted my teeth harder. Who were they again?

Kim Dokja, of course. That one was a given.

Then... the woman. Quiet, always seated near him—Yoo Sangah. That was her name. She tried to be calm. She tried not to look.

Then that smug, cowardly prick of a manager—Han Myungoh. He was the kind to sell someone out the second it got hard.

The kid. That tiny boy clutching an insect case—Lee Gilyoung. I remembered now. He didn't make a sound, but the fear in his eyes...

And the soldier. Lee Hyunsung. Built like a tank but soft-spoken. He didn't have a weapon yet—no pepe, not until later—but he had discipline. A good man.

Five people. 

I'm ganna fucking make it Six

I forced myself to breathe, to focus. My memory recall flickered—scenes flashing like stills from a film This time I'm recalling both side of ORV and TWSA:

Blood. Screams. Someone grabbing a phone. Someone else breaking down. A man grabbing the boy.

I snapped out of it and looked around fast.

The train car was dark, lit only by scattered phone screens. People were murmuring. Shifting. The tension was breaking.

And there—there—I saw him.

A boy. Curled up near a pole, clutching a small insect carrier to his chest. Inside, I spotted twitching antennae. A cricket?

That was him. Lee Gilyoung. Still unharmed. For now.

Targeted. Vulnerable.

Just like the first time.

A metallic pop echoed down the length of the train—and then—

"Kim Dokja," I said, my voice sharper now. "Stay close. It's here."

A blinding light flared from the front of the train. It wasn't just me now. Everyone could see it.

And then—

[The free service of Planetary System 8612 has been terminated.]

[The Main Scenario has begun.]

The words burned themselves into the air, into everyone's retinas, into reality.

Screams erupted. Someone dropped their phone. Another tried to open the door.

Too late. The rules had changed.

To be continue

.

.

.

Tom:

For fuck's sake, why do you always do this to me?

[The constellation "Laughter is Chaos" is giggling.]

Tom:

No, seriously. I was having a moment. Like a real human connection kind of moment. You ever heard of boundaries?

['Because, my dear~']

['You're so cute when you're flustered.']

Tom:

I'm not cute, I'm panicking.

[The constellation is now cackling into their cosmic sleeve.]

Tom:

And I swear if you say "you're welcome" again I will personally climb into the narrative thread of the universe and choke you with it.

['You're welcome 💕']

Tom:

I hate you.

["You wound me."]

[The constellation is now pretending to cry into a wine glass filled with exploding stars.]

Tom:

Great. Now I'm emotionally blackmailing a god. My life is a joke.

['And I'm the punchline 😌']

Tom:

...That doesn't even make sense.

['It does if you don't think about it. 😉']

Tom:

Ugh. Just—just stay quiet while I try to not die.

['No promises~']