Narrator –
The universe, the stars, galaxies, solar systems, the sun, the moon — none of it exists.
In the midst of the void, only one thing remains...
The World of Nightmares.
But what does this world look like? No one knows. Its history, its origin — unknown... its future — nonexistent. Yet how do you know — that in this void, only this world exists?
You will find the answer to that too.
Main Story –
We see a man —standing in the middle of this World of Nightmares — amidst absolute silence.
His beauty is difficult to express in words.
His hair is deliberately a bit messy —the front strands slightly cover his eyes, the back shaped like a wolf's tail — sharp, blade-like, curving backwards as if he's ready to tear apart his own destiny.
The entire cut speaks —"Controlled, but only barely. Nothing more."
Such a combination — mystery, ferocity, and an irresistible allure. Simply put — wolf cut withlong hair.
His fairy-tale-like silvery hair dances in the wind, silver eyebrows, and his eyes...
A predator's eyes.
Straight, sharp, deep...A gaze that declares — he was born to dominate this world.
The color of his eyes — a strange dark pink, as if a burnt-out universe lies smoldering underneath.
His name — Zinn.
Wearing a modern outfit of black-gray tones, gray-white Reid Sneakers style shoes, black slim-fit pants, and a dark gray or black high-collar t-shirt — fitting perfectly.
A thin locket hangs around his neck, and draped over him is a long black coat —even without wind, it seems as if he creates a breeze by his mere presence.
In front of him stretches an endless barren plain —gray sky, cracked earth, no wind, only silence.
Two warriors stand at a distance — A and B.
Their eyes carry a kind of confusion —as if they can no longer trust in their own existence.
Narrator –
To make it easier for you, I will name them — A and B.
In this World of Nightmares, inside every living being resides a virus — called Psycho.
From this virus is born a terrifying force — Psycho Fate.
It is a power that cannot be felt — it shatters layers of thought itself. Those who can control this force are known as Cursed Psycho.
A and B — both are victims of this.
Main Story Continued –
A's Psycho Fate was dense, suffocating —once released, it would pull the opponent's attention into an unbearable mental torment.
On the other hand, B's Psycho Fate was swift, mocking —it would invade the enemy's consciousness at lightning speed, magnifying their weaknesses many fold.
Both knew —no one would survive this battle. This was the final fight.
A attacked first. His Psycho Fate — a chaotic liquid darkness, surged toward B, as if poisonous to its very core.
But B countered at the right moment —his mocking Psycho Fate spun so fast it shredded that darkness apart.
Yet A did not stop.
His power infiltrated B's consciousness, for a moment, destroying all memories. B was disoriented.
But B was not someone to give up.
He pulled himself up, his Psycho Fate viciously spreading through the darkness.
Their inner worlds screamed.
A and B began tearing into each other's minds —horrible memories surfaced, confidence shattered, the scale of psychic pain climbed higher and higher.
Still, neither stopped.
In the final moment, A condensed all his Psycho Fate into one strike —trying to create a nightmare prison for B.
B escaped just in time, but his mocking power had become so overwhelming, A himself could no longer withstand the pressure.
In a monstrous explosion...
A was shattered to pieces.
B too was not fully intact.
Their Psycho Fates devoured each other —consuming their souls, their very existence.
In the end, two empty bodies remained, their eyes lifeless, their forms merging into the ground, saying —no one won this battle.
Only something precious was lost, something that would never return again.
Zinn stood before their corpses.
Zinn spoke —"This is how it goes. Inside this world, there is a virus called Psycho. It is born with you; no one knows how it spreads. From this virus comes Psycho Fate. Those who can control it — are Cursed Psycho. These two were also like that.
But...I don't have this virus inside me.
Meaning, I am powerless. You might wonder how I know this? There is a mark on their foreheads — and I know because there is no such mark on mine.
Who am I, I don't know.
Just a day ago, I was unconscious. I named myself 'Zinn.'
I have just started to learn about this world...
And I have realized only one thing —in this world, death is the only permanent reality.In this world, death... is a very ordinary thing.
And if I want to survive, I must uncover the other side of this world."
Narrator (in a deep, cold voice):
"You think power can be gained from Psycho—then why is it called a virus?
Why is it called a curse instead of a blessing?
The answer lies hidden in the shadows of those who have lost themselves in the allure of this power.
Yes... I told you—Those who can control Psycho Fate are called Cursed Psycho. Because they are powerful, but that power burns away their humanity. They are chained gods, warriors trapped in a spiritual fire.
But...Have you thought about those who cannot control Psycho Fate? What are they called? What happens to them?
You will soon find out."
Main Story Continued –
Zinn stops. He takes a long breath. All around him is emptiness, but he knows—this emptiness is not safe. A sharp alertness flickers in his eyes. He thinks—"I have to learn about this world... but where should I start?"
His thoughts deepen. "If I approach someone strong and they turn out to be an enemy... I will surely die. "This is the Nightmare World—death is a common occurrence here." Then I must find someone—who is weak but still alive. Maybe they know how to survive."
Zinn opens his eyes and looks... far, far away, through the mist...A small village. He takes a step forward—each step a risk towards death.
At the village boundary, he stops. He doesn't enter... just stands there.
In his eyes, a fierce loneliness burns...A cold, dark emptiness. He can almost feel the horror within the village, even from afar.
And then...
A brutal scene unfolds before his eyes.
An old woman—gouging out her own eyes. But not while crying—while laughing.
In her hands are her own eyes, and she stuffs them into her mouth, with a kind of bliss, as if she is devouring the last pieces of her humanity.
In another place—a mother holding her child gently pushes her hand into the child's mouth. Her eyes filled with a predator's hunger. The child's cries seem to vanish into the air, turning into a language without words—only dissolving into the void.
In another corner, several people tear each other apart physically. One plunges their hand into another's eye socket, with the same deranged, mindless smile. Their bodies crumble into grotesque masses of flesh, yet they continue searching—for the elusive thing called "soul," perhaps already long lost.
Zinn freezes. Tears stream down his face—but these tears are not warm, they are cold as ice.
His mind cannot comprehend—what is all this?His soul trembles from within. This village...it hasn't merely rotted—it corrupts the soul, then dances over its twisted remains.
Zinn wants to turn and run, but then he sees—a young man digging into his own body, pulling out his bones. There is no pain in his eyes, no expression, only a hollow darkness. He pulls out his own bones as if it were a mundane, habitual act.
Another woman...holding her child, slowly pressing into the child's face—with sick cruelty, in a calm, murderous trance. The child cannot speak—only silent terror. The mother's face is disturbingly peaceful.
Zinn doesn't collapse. He stands still—he knows if he runs now, he will never understand this world. But inside, he is no longer the same.
Then he sees—a deformed villager approaching him. The man's cheek torn, flesh dangling, eyes bulging out, holding a half-rotted human heart.
His smile is grotesque. His breath reeks of coagulated blood. As he nearly reaches Zinn—
Another twisted figure jumps on him. The second one thrusts a hand into the first one's eye socket—and yanks out the brain! A grotesque scream—blood splatters onto the ground.
The second man stuffs the brain into his mouth—sucking, chewing, swallowing, as if searching for some lost purity amid the corruption.
Zinn does not faint. He starts running.
It feels as if hundreds of twisted bodies, thousands of eyes and maniacal laughter are chasing him from behind.
He thinks—"Was I insane? Why was I standing there for so long?"
He realizes, this horror isn't merely physical—it's mental, spiritual, existential.
Narrator (in a shattered, weary voice that cuts through the silence):
"The Psycho Entity....
The last word-
"power is brutality....."