SCENE 1
INT. KATSUMI'S ROOM – NIGHT
The room is dim, lit only by the blue glow of a monitor.
Rain taps lightly against the window.
On screen:
EDENFALL — a vast open-world game. Floating islands. Ruined cities. A sky that looks too clean to be real.
KATSUMI ARASHI (18) sits forward in his chair, headset on.
Mid-height. Calm eyes. Focused. Barely blinks.
His fingers move fast—but controlled.
FUJII SATOSHI (V.O., headset)
You're late. Again.
KATSUMI
(starting a fight calmly)
I was finishing the side quest.
On screen, Katsumi's character dodges a massive enemy strike by inches.
FUJII (V.O.)
You do useless stuff. Just rush the boss.
KATSUMI
Side quests change the map.
A pause.
FUJII (V.O.)
...You always say that.
They fight together in silence for a moment. Perfect coordination. No shouting. No panic.
The boss falls.
A notification flashes:
› AREA UPDATED
Katsumi doesn't smile.
He just exhales.
FUJII (V.O.)
You play like you already know what's coming.
Katsumi shrugs.
KATSUMI
Games repeat patterns.
He removes one side of the headset.
Something about the screen lingers too long.
The in-game sky flickers—just for a frame.
Katsumi doesn't notice.
SCENE 2
INT. KATSUMI'S ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The door opens without knocking.
HAYASHI ARASHI (16), his younger sister, steps in holding a mug.
Bright-eyed. Casual. Real.
HAYASHI
Mom says stop rotting your brain.
She hands him the mug.
KATSUMI
(smiles faintly)
She said that yesterday.
HAYASHI
And the day before.
She looks at the screen.
HAYASHI (CONT'D)
That world looks... lonely.
Katsumi glances back at the game.
KATSUMI
It's peaceful.
HAYASHI
Peaceful things scare me.
She sits on his bed, watching him play for a second.
HAYASHI (softly)
You ever think you'd be better there than here?
Katsumi pauses his game.
Just for a second.
KATSUMI
No.
(then)
But I think I'd survive.
Hayashi studies his face, unsure why that answer bothers her.
HAYASHI
Don't stay up too late.
She leaves.
The door closes.
The room feels quieter than before.
SCENE 3
INT. KATSUMI'S ROOM – LATER
The game session ends.
FUJII (V.O.)
Same time tomorrow?
KATSUMI
Yeah.
A beat.
FUJII (V.O.)
Hey... random question.
KATSUMI
Hmm?
FUJII (V.O.)
If the world reset tomorrow...
Would you notice?
Katsumi thinks.
KATSUMI
Depends what changed.
Silence.
FUJII (V.O.)
You're weird, man.
Katsumi smiles slightly.
They disconnect.
The EDENFALL main menu stays on screen.
The music loops.
The word "CONTINUE" pulses slowly.
Katsumi shuts down the PC.
The room goes dark.
SCENE 4
INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
The living room is dim, warm light from a single lamp.
The TV is on, low volume.
A late-night news segment plays—routine, almost boring.
Katsumi enters quietly.
His father, TAKASHI ARASHI, sits on the couch with a cup of tea, glasses low on his nose. He looks tired in a way sleep doesn't fix.
TAKASHI
Did you win?
KATSUMI
Yeah.
Takashi nods, as if he expected that answer.
Katsumi sits on the opposite end of the couch.
For a moment, neither speaks.
On TV, a reporter talks about network failures, brief power cuts, people reporting lost time.
REPORTER (TV)
—officials say there's no cause for concern—
The screen glitches.
Not static.
A clean, digital stutter.
Katsumi notices immediately.
KATSUMI
Did you see that?
Takashi doesn't look at the screen.
TAKASHI
See what?
The TV stabilizes.
Katsumi frowns.
KATSUMI
Never mind.
Takashi finally turns his head, studying Katsumi carefully—like he's checking something invisible.
TAKASHI
You always notice things early.
KATSUMI
Not really.
TAKASHI
You do.
He reaches for the remote and turns the volume down further.
The reporter keeps talking, but the words blur into noise.
TAKASHI (CONT'D)
When you were younger, you used to ask strange questions.
Katsumi looks at him.
KATSUMI
Like what?
TAKASHI
Why people forget dreams so easily.
Why memories feel real even when they aren't.
Why some people react faster than others.
Katsumi shifts uncomfortably.
KATSUMI
Kids ask weird things.
TAKASHI
He laughed and said you were funny.
A pause.
Takashi takes a slow sip of tea.
TAKASHI (CONT'D)
Do you feel different from other people?
Katsumi thinks longer than he should.
KATSUMI
I feel... out of place sometimes.
Takashi nods, like that answer hurts but doesn't surprise him.
TAKASHI
That's because you are.
Katsumi looks up sharply.
KATSUMI
What does that mean?
Takashi meets his eyes—
TAKASHI
It means you're special, you are good and better than others.
The word lands heavy.
KATSUMI
You said that before.
TAKASHI
Because it's true.
Katsumi exhales.
KATSUMI
Special doesn't mean anything if you don't explain it.
Takashi hesitates.
The TV glitches again—longer this time.
The reporter freezes mid-sentence.
Reporter : Th-- i- -n E-e-g-n--y . The voice cracks badly.
Takashi turns the TV off immediately.
Silence rushes in.
TAKASHI (quietly)
Some people are meant to observe.
Some are meant to act.
(beat)
And some are meant to remember.
Katsumi's throat tightens.
KATSUMI
Remember what?
Takashi stands.
TAKASHI
Go to sleep, Katsumi.
He places a hand on his son's shoulder.
Firm. Grounding.
TAKASHI (soft, almost apologetic)
Tomorrow... things should go well .
Katsumi looks up.
KATSUMI
Yeah , your research is going to longest timeway.
Takashi doesn't answer.
He walks away, leaving the room darker than before.
Katsumi stays seated, staring at the black TV screen—
Where, for half a second, his reflection feels delayed.
SCENE 5
INT. KATSUMI'S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Night settled slowly over the Arashi house.
The hallway lights were off now. Only Katsumi's room glowed faintly, the blue light of his PC screen still alive even after the game had closed.
EDENFALL — CONNECTION LOST.
Katsumi stared at the screen longer than necessary.
His father's words echoed again, uninvited.
You are special.
He hated how heavy those words felt. Like a responsibility he never asked for.
Katsumi shut the PC down. The sudden silence felt wrong—too clean. The hum of the fan died, and with it, the room felt... hollow. He lay back on his bed, hands folded on his chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
From the living room, the TV was still on.
A late-night news channel murmured softly, voices overlapping, distorted by distance. Katsumi wasn't listening—until one sentence cut through.
"—temporary communication blackout reported across multiple districts—"
The screen flickered.
Katsumi frowned and leaned toward the door. The TV volume dropped suddenly, as if someone had turned it down. Then it rose again—louder this time. Static crackled underneath the anchor's voice.
"Authorities advise citizens to remain indoors if—"
The screen glitched.
For a split second, the broadcast froze. The anchor's face twisted unnaturally, stretched by digital noise. The image collapsed into blue static.
Then—silence.
Katsumi's heartbeat picked up.
He waited.
The TV turned itself off.
No click. No sound. Just darkness.
A cold feeling crawled up his spine. He stood, walked to the doorway, and looked down the hall. Everything was normal. Too normal. The house felt empty in a way it never had before.
He returned to his room and shut the door.
As he lay down again, his phone buzzed once on the bedside table.
A notification.
No sender name. No app icon.
Just text.
LEVEL: Unknown
Status: Beginning
Katsumi's breath caught.
Before he could react, the screen went black.
Outside, far beyond the quiet house, the city lights flickered—just once.
And somewhere, unseen, something counted.
Katsumi closed his eyes.
Sleep took him faster than it should have
A faint digital sound.
Like a system booting.
Then—
CUT TO WHITE.
Something changed...
He sees a text floating
◖WELCOME TO THE GAME◗