𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 ! ✷ ; Reincarnation

A special power unlocked by the Doctor after a certain condition is met. The Doctor can choose one deceased player to return to the game—but at a cost. The resurrected player does not come back as they once were. Instead, they are reincarnated as their alter ego—a reflection of themselves, yet different, as if the game has rewritten a part of their soul.

They retain their memories but not their emotions. They are not who they used to be.

And once reincarnated, they can never return to their former self.

The tension was unbearable.

Everyone was on edge, frantically trying to piece things together, but paranoia clung to them like a second skin. The fear of being wrong—of trusting the wrong person—was suffocating.

So, one by one, they decided to take a break before night fell, before the next inevitable vote.

Eun-chan stormed out first, his emotions too raw to stay in the same room. Mina followed after, mumbling something about needing air. Yoon-seo hesitated but eventually left, deep in thought. The others trickled out, giving themselves space to think, to breathe—to mourn.

Kyung-jun didn't move.

He sat alone, his back against the cold wall, staring at nothing.

His mind was far away.

Minji.

The name echoed in his skull, her voice a ghost of something he would never hear again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the memories, but they clawed their way back, merciless.

—Minji laughing softly, nudging his shoulder when he was being too serious.
—Minji rolling her eyes but smiling when he teased her.
—Minji, standing beside him, alive, warm, real.

His grip tightened.

And then—Minji, her body limp in his arms.

His breath hitched.

The image was seared into his mind. The way her body had grown cold, the way her fingers had slipped from his grasp. The way she had looked at him one last time, trusting him even in her final moments.

He had failed her.

A sharp exhale left his lips, his jaw clenching.

What was the point of any of this?

Minji was gone. Nothing would change that.

But he was still here.

And as long as he was, he would see this game through to the end.

For her.

No matter what it took.

The weight in his chest wouldn't lift. It pressed down on him, suffocating, clawing at his ribs like it wanted to rip him apart from the inside.

Kyung-jun sat there, motionless, head tilted back against the wall, fingers curled into fists against his knees. The world moved around him, but he was stuck. Frozen in the moment Minji's body went cold in his arms.

He forced himself to unlock his phone.

The screen lit up, displaying the only thing they had left—their only connection to the outside world.

And the only app they could still use apart from this cursed game.

His gallery.

His thumb hovered over the screen before he tapped into it.

Photos flooded his vision.

Minji's face. Minji's smile. Minji, laughing at something dumb he had said. Minji, pretending to be annoyed but failing to hide the way her lips twitched up.

His chest tightened painfully.

He scrolled further.

A picture of them sitting side by side on the rooftop, the city lights stretching out behind them.

A video of Minji shoving a snack into his mouth, laughing as he choked and glared at her.

A blurry, candid shot of her looking up at him, eyes soft.

His vision blurred.

She should be here.

She should be sitting beside him, rolling her eyes at how dramatic he was. She should be nudging him, telling him to stop sulking.

But she wasn't.

And she never would be again.

A sharp breath escaped him, but it felt like his lungs weren't working properly. Like there wasn't enough air left in this goddamn place.

His hands trembled as he gripped the phone tighter.

"I should've died instead," he whispered.

The words fell from his lips before he even realized he had spoken them.

If he could trade places with her—if he could go back, make her walk away, take her place—he would. Without hesitation.

But this sick game didn't care about what he wanted.

Minji was dead.

And he was still here.

And the worst part?

He couldn't even afford to grieve.

Not yet.

His grief would come after this game was over—after he made sure every single person responsible for Minji's death was gone.

So he swallowed the grief like poison and let it fester.

Because right now, he had one goal.

Survive.

And make them pay.

he air in the underground facility grew unnaturally still.

Then—

A sound.

Not the hum of artificial lights. Not the unsteady breaths of the players.

But the voice.

Cold. Unfeeling. Absolute.

"The Doctor has unlocked a power."

A sharp gasp rippled through the group. Na-hee stiffened, her heart pounding. She had barely been able to comprehend it herself. The moment her hands had pressed against Minji's cold body, the moment her tears had hit the tiled floor—something shifted.

And now—

"A player has been reincarnated."

Silence.

Then—

A metallic creak echoed through the space.

The door to the cold room, where the bodies of the dead were kept, opened.

Footsteps. Slow. Steady. Unrushed.

Then, from the shadows—she emerged.

Minji.

But not Minji.

Her once warm, expressive eyes were now unreadable—deep pools of something distant, unreachable. Her posture was different, shoulders squared, head high. There was no sign of the girl who once filled the room with light.

She looked at them.

Not with warmth. Not with familiarity.

Just quiet, detached observation.

Na-hee clamped a hand over her mouth, tears welling up again. "Minji—"

Minji tilted her head slightly, as if testing the sound of the name.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"...I don't think that's who I am anymore."

Her voice was calm. Too calm.

Kyung-jun had stopped breathing. His hands, clenched tightly against his knees, refused to move.

No.

This wasn't right.

This wasn't her.

The way she carried herself, the way her gaze swept over them like she was analyzing a puzzle instead of seeing them—this wasn't Minji.

She was standing right there, and yet—

It felt like she was gone all over again.

✷ Oh what a cold entrance miss Minji