Minh closed his eyes, letting the words of Chaos echo through his mind.

  It struck him now. Tài. It had always been Tài.

  He saw it clearly, like a wound reopening.

  Back then, before the birthday, he had shut himself away.

  He avoided everyone, his friends, his classmates, even Tài.

  Every time Tài searched for him, he turned away.

  Every smile, every invitation, every chance to talk… Minh had refused them all.

  And yet, on the night of the birthday,

  Tài still welcomed him.

  Still smiled.

  Still pretended as if nothing was broken.

  But after that night… everything changed.

  Whenever Minh tried to approach him afterward, Tài looked elsewhere.

  His laughter was for Linh and Phúc now, not for Minh.

  His gaze slipped away, as if Minh had become a shadow he no longer wanted to acknowledge.

  Minh’s chest tightened.

  A tremor ran through Minh.

  He clenched his fists, breath shaking but steadying into resolve.

  “”

  In the quiet of his bedroom, Minh sat on the edge of his bed.

  His eyes burned with determination as he whispered into the stillness:

  The words echoed in his chest, not as desperation but as a vow.

  It was Sunday.

  No school, no excuses.

  Today had to be the day Minh acted.

  But even with his resolve, Minh knew the truth, he couldn’t do this alone.

  If he was to save Tài, he would need help.

  Linh and Phúc… they had to stand with him.

  Minh rose to his feet, his fists tightening at his sides.

  After breakfast, Minh called Linh and Phúc, asking if they wanted to hang out.

  They agreed without hesitation.

  The three of them gathered at the small park near Tài’s house.

  Minh’s voice was unsteady as he told them about his past with Tài, and finally asked for their help.

  Linh’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp with displeasure.

  “”

  Phúc folded his arms, nodding.

  “”

  Minh lowered his head, shame burning in his chest.

  “”

  Linh let out a long breath, exasperated but softening.

  “”

  With that, Linh and Phúc headed toward Tài’s house, exchanging light smiles with Minh as if the whole thing were an easy task.

  Their casual confidence made Minh’s chest tighten.

  To them, it was simple.

  To him, it was everything.

  From a distance, Minh watched as Tài opened the door to Linh and Phúc’s calls.

  The three of them spoke easily, laughter spilling between them.

  To Minh, the smoothness of it all cut like a blade.

  Then Phúc pointed toward him.

  Tài’s gaze followed and the moment their eyes met, Minh’s chest twisted with unbearable pain.

  It wasn’t only anger he saw there.

  It was the weight of a bond broken, the sharp rejection of someone who had once been close.

  The connection they had shared now turned into a blade, stabbing deep inside him.

  Tài’s fury burst forth in that single glance, and Minh felt it tear through him, leaving him clutching his heart as if the rejection itself had carved into his body.

  Linh and Phúc rushed to his side in alarm.

  The pain slowly eased, his breathing steadied but when Minh looked up again, he saw the door slam shut with violent force.

  Neither Linh nor Phúc noticed.

  Their attention was only on him.

  Linh called softly toward the house.

  She stopped, turning. The doorstep was empty.

  Minh’s voice came low and bitter.

  Linh and Phúc turned their eyes toward the shut door in disbelief.

  Linh muttered, confusion flickering in her voice.

  Phúc’s expression hardened.

  He spun toward Minh, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him close.

  he demanded, anger burning in his voice.

  Linh cried, forcing herself between them.

  Reluctantly, Phúc let go, but his eyes stayed locked on Minh, waiting for an answer.

  Minh’s breath came shallow, his chest still heavy from the pain.

  He searched for words, but none came, only the hollow truth.

  He whispered.

  The tension between them thickened like a storm.

  Phúc said coldly.

  Minh lowered his head, unable to answer.

  Linh shouted, her voice trembling with anger.

  Phúc’s eyes didn’t soften. His voice was like ice.

  Linh’s mouth opened, but no words came.

  The silence pressed between them, heavier than any argument.

  At last, Phúc placed a hand on Minh’s shoulder.

  His grip was firm, but it carried no warmth.

  With that, he turned, climbed onto his bike, and rode away without looking back.

  Linh didn’t call after him.

  She only turned to Minh, her face pale with helplessness.

  “I… I didn’t think it would turn out like this.

  I’ll follow Phúc, try to make him understand, try to bring us back together… not tear us apart like this.”

  Minh was alone in the park again.

  He had no idea how everything had come to this.

  Once, he had chosen to isolate himself.

  Now, his friends had done the same to him.

  The bond he thought he could mend had only frayed further, leaving him more adrift than ever.

  There was nothing left to do.

  He climbed onto his bike and rode away, the silence of the park trailing after him like a shadow.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Home felt unbearable.

  He couldn’t face its stillness, not yet.

  So he wandered instead, letting the streets blur around him as he tried, in vain, to ease the fresh pain burning in his chest.

  Time passed slowly, every moment dragged by the weight of what haunted Minh’s mind.

  The sting of rejection lingered, but he did not forget his duty as a student.

  He went through the motions of the day, and when night finally came, he climbed into bed, letting exhaustion pull him under.

  Yet before sleep claimed him, an idea surfaced like a whisper in the dark.

  He remembered what he had learned of the Chaos realm, that each domain reflected the darkness born from a person’s heart.

  If Tài’s Chaos domain had formed, then it was there Minh would find the truth.

  There he might uncover a way to reach Tài… to save him.

  Resolute, Minh closed his eyes.

  “I’ll enter Tài’s Chaos domain,”

  He whispered to himself.

  “No matter what awaits inside.”

  With Minh’s request, the Chaos realm answered.

  It came to him in his dream.

  This time, he was alone.

  No familiar, mocking voice of Chaos to greet him.

  Only silence, heavy and suffocating.

  Trembling seized his body, and for a moment he wanted to flee at once.

  Danger pressed in from every direction, unseen yet certain.

  But then, the scene of the park near Tài’s house flashed in his mind, the morning’s wound, Tài’s hatred, the slammed door.

  That memory anchored him, forced him to remain.

  He stood still, breathing hard, until his fear began to ease.

  Slowly, he calmed himself.

  The memory of his practice battle returned.

  He replayed it in his mind, every strike and mistake, every surge of strength.

  This time he studied it carefully, not to win, but to prepare.

  Because when he entered Tài’s domain, he would enter it alone.

  He had no idea what awaited him there.

  And so, for now, he delayed that step.

  Before facing Tài’s Chaos, he would train in battle again.

  Minh steadied his breath and began to focus.

  His body responded, shifting into transformation.

  This time, the change came quicker than before but compared to the instant shift he longed for, his speed was still too slow.

  The form held for a moment, then slipped away.

  He returned to normal, his focus breaking like glass.

  Frustration pricked at him.

  He didn’t push for another transformation right away.

  Instead, he chose to wander through the strange emptiness of the realm.

  Teleportation felt too dangerous; he didn’t want to risk appearing before a powerful foe unprepared.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  

  

  That meant something important.

  Here, in the realm without his own domain, the space around him would either remain utterly safe… or be filled only with weak, unchained Chaos.

  It was a fragile balance, but at least it gave him room to practice.

  The friendly chaos had spoken true: the creatures around Minh matched his power and never gathered in overwhelming numbers.

  Minh encountered several of them each provoked the moment he drew near.

  But Minh, clad in his battle suit, was ready.

  He fought, and he won.

  Battle after battle, Minh discovered more moves

  “Multi Thrust,” “Instant Slash,” “Stop,” and “Teleport.”With each clash, he grew more familiar with this strange realm.

  Unlike before, he didn’t waste as much strength.

  His movements became sharper, his decisions steadier.

  Confidence replaced hesitation.

  And as he grew accustomed to the realm’s rhythm, Minh realized something new: he could remain here longer than before.

  As Minh practiced, the strain on his mind and focus deepened.

  His movements slowed, his balance faltered he could no longer fight safely.

  To remain exposed in the open would be reckless.

  He wavered for only a moment before deciding.

  He called out within himself, asking to be pulled back.

  The realm answered, and in a blink, he stood once more at the place he had come to name his Safepoint

  Here, the Chaos Realm softened.

  The air was still, the ground solid beneath his feet.

  No hostile presence lingered only a quiet hum, as if the realm itself acknowledged his need for rest.

  This place carried no threat, no storm, only calm.

  A haven carved out of the madness.

  Yes, Minh knew he could leave the Chaos Realm entirely if he wished.

  But he refused.

  He wanted to stay, he had to stay.

  Tài’s domain was still out there, and Minh would not walk away until he saw it with his own eyes.

  Settling into meditation, Minh steadied his breathing.

  Slowly, strength returned to him.

  Then the thread of his connection stirred, whispering of a new possibility: an Explored Domain

  The thought consumed him:

  And with that single resolve, Minh’s body dissolved into light and he was pulled toward the domain.

  When Minh’s senses cleared, he realized something was different.

  The air was still, no Chaos lurking, no whispers.

  Before him stretched a massive complex

  The fog lingered, heavy and grey, but his sight pierced through it now.

  Shapes emerged, guardians at the gate.

  They pulsed faintly, and when Minh approached, they stirred.

  He braced himself and charged.

  The fight was sharp but even, their power matched his own.

  Yet as Minh forced his way deeper inside, their forms twisted.

  From vague Chaos they hardened into robotsEach wave came stronger than the last.

  Minh’s breath quickened, his muscles screaming.

  His focus slipped.

  The weight of the realm pressed on him until he staggered, sweat dripping inside his visor.

  He could go no further.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow,”

  He muttered, pulling at the connection to leave. But this time, silence.

  The realm gave him no answer.

  Then the ground quaked.

  A surge of stronger Chaos rushed from behind, metallic beasts in pursuit.

  Minh’s chest clenched with panic, and he ran, every step echoing in the hollow halls.

  Ahead, the fog thinned, no enemy blocked his path.

  Only the chaos behind him roared, closing in.

  He burst through the threshold, heart pounding, and looked back.

  The pursuers did not follow.

  They lingered at the edge of the domain, pacing, as if bound to it.

  Breathing ragged, Minh tried again.

  This time, the Chaos Realm answered.

  Light washed over him, pulling him free.

  But his body told another story.

  His limbs were heavy, his breath uneven.

  The nights before, when the friendly Chaos guided him, he had not been driven to his limits.

  But this time, he had pushed too far, fighting deeper, longer, against stronger foes.

  And now the toll weighed on him like lead in his veins.

  Minh gripped the sink and stared into the mirror.

  His own reflection looked pale, eyes hollowed by exhaustion.

  For a moment, fear flickered inside him.

  He shook his head sharply.

  “.”

  His voice was low, firm, as though speaking to himself was the only way to silence the doubt.

  He splashed cold water over his face again, let it drip from his chin, and whispered,

  “I will endure it. For Tài.”

  Minh dragged himself through the heavy weight of Monday morning, blaming it on the usual “Monday effect.”His steps were slow, his eyes shadowed, yet he forced himself onward.

  A few classmates noticed his gloom and tried to follow his lead, slouching, yawning, pretending to share his weariness.

  But none could slip past the teacher’s sharp judgment.

  Though Minh looked exhausted, his homework was neat and complete.

  When the teacher called on him, he answered each question with ease, his grasp of the previous lesson clear.

  After a moment’s pause, the teacher simply nodded and remarked that Minh must have been sick.

  The other students groaned in frustration, their imitation exposed.

  Minh only lowered his gaze, silently relieved.

  His true exhaustion had nothing to do with illness but no one here would ever know.

  Although he carried a gloomy air that morning, the familiar rhythm of school slowly lifted Minh’s spirits.

  The chatter of classmates, the buzz of lessons, even the occasional jokes passed around the room, he found himself laughing along, if only for a moment.

  The school’s warmth helped him temporarily forget the Chaos Realm, forget the pain of his friends.

  During the breaks, Minh searched the halls for Linh, Phúc, and even Tài.

  But each time, it felt as if they had slipped away before he arrived.

  Whether by chance or intention, they avoided him.

  Sadness weighed on his chest, but Minh forced a small smile when he returned to his class.

  His classmates welcomed him easily, pulling him into their light-hearted talks.

  Their simple kindness dulled the ache, and for a while, the sadness blurred, just enough for him to breathe.

  When the school day ended, Minh rode home with leaden steps.

  The moment he crossed the door, he collapsed into the chair, too drained to hide it.

  His mother hurried over, frowning as she pressed her hand to his forehead.

  she said with certainty, before slipping away to fetch medicine. Minh didn’t argue.

  He swallowed the pill obediently, then leaned back.

  Within minutes, the heaviness in his body eased, a warmth spreading through him.

  His breathing steadied.

  The medicine worked.

  Everyone else saw an ordinary illness. But Minh knew the truth, he wasn’t sick.

  This weakness came from the Chaos Realm.

  Still, somehow, the flu medicine dulled the weight pressing on him.

  He stared at the empty glass in his hand, a fleeting wish crossing his mind.

  If only I could carry this medicine into my dreams… if it helps me here, would it protect me there too?

  The thought lingered, impossible yet tempting, as he drifted into uneasy rest.

  Minh quickly abandoned the thought of carrying medicine into the Chaos Realm.

  He had too much to occupy him, studying, keeping an eye on Tài from a distance, hoping for any clue that might explain the hatred between them.

  But as night fell, no answer came.

  Frustration heavy in his chest, Minh prepared for bed, bracing himself to enter Tài’s domain once more.

  Before he could lie down, his mother appeared at the doorway, holding out the flu medicine again.

  “Take it before you sleep,”

  She said firmly.

  He nodded, took the pill, and swallowed in haste.

  The water he drank failed to carry it down.

  The tablet clung bitterly to his tongue, flooding his mouth with a sharp, chemical taste.

  Grimacing, he gulped more water until the lump finally slid down his throat.

  The bitterness lingered, stubborn, coating his tongue.

  With a shudder, Minh pushed it from his mind.

  He hurried to his bed, eager to forget the taste, and let the darkness of sleep close in.

  Minh entered the Chaos Realm as he wished.

  The bitter taste still lingered on his tongue, not unpleasant only a sharp reminder of his earlier wish. His thoughts flickered back to the flu medicine.

  And then, before his hand, two small pills appeared, identical to the ones his mother had given him.

  His eyes widened.

  He whispered. Carefully, he rolled the tablets in his palm, their weight solid, real.

  Excitement surged.

  Minh clenched his fist and focused hard, trying to will more into being.

  He strained, sweat beading at his brow.

  But no matter how hard he pushed, nothing else formed.

  Only the two remained.

  Panting, he let out a half-relieved laugh.

  He murmured.

  The pills gleamed faintly in his palm, fragile proof that the barrier between his world and this one was not as firm as he once believed.

  Minh slipped the two pills into his pocket and, with a steady breath, willed himself to Tài’s domain.

  This time he carried the memory of last night’s ordeal and forced himself to move carefully.

  At the gate, the lesser Chaos crumbled beneath his blade with ease.

  But as he pressed deeper, the air grew heavy, thick like smoke pressing into his lungs.

  Every step was slower, more deliberate.

  The silence of the domain itself seemed to watch him.

  Then, he felt it.

  A strong Chaos, its presence swelling like a storm. Instinct urged him to run.

  He turned, only to find the path behind him gone, swallowed by the shifting domain.

  The only way out was forward.

  Heart pounding, Minh transformed in an instant, blade raised.

  But the Chaos did not strike.

  Instead, it lowered itself onto a throne-like chair that seemed to rise from the fog itself a luxury seat that belonged more to a king’s hall than this twisted place.

  And then its form shifted.

  Minh froze.

  The Chaos wore his face. His body. His stance.

  It lounged on the chair like a monarch, eyes glinting with a cold, merciless light, gazing down on him as though he were nothing more than a trespasser.

  Was this how Tài saw him arrogant, detestable?

  Or was this the truth he had tried so long to bury, a crueller self mocking him from the throne?

  A voice came from everywhere:

  The laughter stopped.

  Minh recognized it as Tài’s laugh, but he had no time to wonder.

  The Chaos struck at him. Minh dodged, but too slowly, its blow landed, forcing him to drop his spear.

  Minh shouted, and with a burst of speed he evaded the next attack.

  Using that moment, he reclaimed his spear.

  Suddenly, the Chaos raised its hand.

  Thunder crashed down.

  Minh dodged some, but one bolt struck him hard.

  Pain ripped through his body, freezing his limbs.

  His head throbbed as if it would split apart.

  The Chaos lunged again. Minh shouted,

  His spear pierced its form, but the monster barely flinched and slammed him to the ground.

  Crushed and breathless, Minh lay helpless.

  In Tài’s domain, there was no escape.

  The finishing blow loomed, until something pressed against his side.

  His pocket. The pill.

  He swallowed it.

  Bitter fire spread across his tongue, then warmth steadied his trembling body.

  The pain didn’t vanish, but he could endure.

  When the Chaos’s strike landed, he held on, refusing to break.

  The Chaos lunged again.

  Minh, still under the

  spell, slipped past the strike with perfect speed.

  “”

  He shouted.

  His spear blazed with pale light as he drove it forward.

  The Chaos hardly cared for the blow until the spell locked it in place.

  Frozen. Five seconds.

  Minh’s own light was fading, strength draining fast.

  But that pause was all he needed.

  He yanked the last pill from his pocket, swallowed it through the bitterness, and felt spirit power flood back into him.

  Though his spirit power surged back, the Chaos was still far stronger.

  Minh didn’t dare act recklessly.

  Instead, he moved with precision, launching into a desperate combo meant for one goal: to tear the Chaos from its throne.

  Bolts of thunder rained down again, but this time Minh knew their pattern.

  He slipped under the towering chair itself, the only place the lightning could not reach.

  With a sharp breath, he drove his spear upward, piercing through the seat with all his might.

  The Chaos laughed coldly and rose, lifting from the chair as if gravity itself bent to his will.

  Minh had only one chance left just enough focus for a single combo.

  He had studied the Chaos’s rhythm, its arrogant reliance on that throne.

  Now it was time to act.

  The Chaos lunged. Minh planted his feet, bracing.

  He cast Slow, the spear gleaming as the enemy staggered.

  He gritted his teeth and countered with a desperate

  Multi ThrustThe slowed enemy now too heavy-footed to escape.

  The Chaos’s movements dragged as if caught in mud.

  Minh staggered upright, pain tearing through him, and roared:

  “Multi Thrust!

  His spear blurred in a flurry of strikes.

  Not at the Chaos, no, Minh drove each thrust into the throne beneath it.

  With every impact the seat groaned, cracks splintering across its surface.

  This was no random monster.

  This Chaos was Tài’s vision of him, useless, powerless, a hollow shell mocked by the throne it clung to.

  Minh’s chest tightened.

  Every strike was not just against a foe, but against the resentment Tài had nursed in silence.

  The throne wasn’t merely a seat of power it was the grudge itself, the weight that made this false Minh loom higher than him.

  Without it, the figure was nothing.

  Was that how Tài saw him that his worth had crumbled, and only bitterness propped him up?

  The thought seared Minh’s spirit, yet it gave his hands purpose.

  To free Tài, he would have to shatter the throne that chained them both.

  At last, the throne buckled.

  The Chaos, who had mocked Minh from above like a king, lost its balance and tumbled down.

  Just as Minh had guessed, the power wasn’t in the Chaos at all.

  It had been the throne.

  And without it, the creature was nothing but a shadow stripped of its stage.

  With the throne shattered, the Chaos flailed helplessly.

  Minh did not waste the chance.

  He tightened his grip, steadied his breath, and struck clean.

  The creature dissolved into smoke and ash, leaving nothing behind.

  The domain shuddered, its walls rippling like water.

  Behind Minh, the fog peeled away to reveal the entrance door.

  His chest heaved, every limb trembling.

  The victory was his, but his strength was spent.

  The domain shuddered, its walls rippling like water.

  Behind Minh, the fog peeled back to reveal a crimson-dark hall stretching deeper into the domain, pulsing with danger.

  His chest heaved, every limb trembling.

  The victory was his but his strength was spent.

  The oppressive air pressed harder, warning of what awaited ahead.

  Minh clenched his spear, then slowly let it fall to his side. Not yet.

  There was still time.

  Tài had not been pulled fully into this realm.

  Better to withdraw now than fall here, broken and alone.

  Minh stepped through the entrance.

  Glancing back, his eyes searched for the familiar modern complex but it was gone. In its place, Tài’s domain had reshaped itself into something far darker: a twisted labyrinth of crimson flames, unformed and writhing, like the dungeon itself had turned into a living nightmare.

  What do you think the throne represented? And what do you think Minh will face inside the labyrinth?