Aethercross-Real Game，The Borderland of Reality and Fantasy

Chapter 2: Countdown

Gabriel violently jerks awake amidst a cry of alarm, gasping for breath. It takes him a moment to collect himself, muttering, "It was just a dream, only a dream..." Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he chuckles bitterly: "I knew something was off. Dad might be unreliable, but he wouldn't do something like that. Time for a shower to wash away this cold sweat."

Water cascades down from the showerhead onto Gabriel's face, eliciting a contented hum. Steam rises in the bathroom, enveloping him in a misty cocoon. His mind wanders to the wedding invitation, debating whether to attend his mother's wedding. He sighs softly to himself, "I should be happy for Mom. She's finally found stable support. Damn Dad, never reliable..." He gets lost in his thoughts, drifting into memories.

 "Why is Mom so busy, Dad? It's been five weekends in a row she's not home to play with me," a young Gabriel whines, ice cream cone in one hand, holding his father's hand with the other.

 "Hmm..." His father smiles at him, "She's in the prime of her career. But explaining this to a little kid like you wouldn't make sense."

 "I'm not a little kid anymore! In a month, I'll be in school. Mom says being in school means you're not a kid, but a man," the boy contends, then mutters, "Mom says men can't cling to their parents every day..." He looks up anxiously, "Dad, do men really have to be away from their parents?"

 "Not... exactly," his father teases, prolonging the suspense. Seeing his son's face fall, he laughs heartily, "Don't worry, I'll always be with you," striking a heroic pose, "I'll guard your life!" 

The boy beams, focusing back on his ice cream. After a while, he asks, "Dad, are we running out of money?" 

His father chuckles, "What makes you think that? Your dad's a great musician. My songwriting alone provides for you and Mom." 

"But Mom says you're a third-rate composer, just living off the old house and money we inherited. That's why she has to work hard," the boy bluntly exposes his father's facade.

 "I..." His father falls silent, eventually managing a wry smile, "Your mom is just too determined. Alright, let's go, it's starting to rain. Run!" Father and son dash off, blending into the gradually falling rain.

Gabriel steps out from the shower, shutting off the water. He moves through the steam, grabbing a towel and draping it over his head as he approaches the foggy mirror. Wiping a clear patch, his handsome face and naturally wavy dark brown hair, carelessly covering his icy blue eyes, are revealed. 

"Got to admit, I do look good," he starts to boast, then pauses, noticing something strange in the mirror. Faint and blurry, but clearly showing a countdown: 17:32:16. He blinks hard, and the countdown persists: 17:32:14, 13, 12... a real countdown. 

"This mirror has some high-tech feature? How come I never noticed?" Gabriel scrubs at the mirror, then realizes something terrifying. The countdown seems fixed in his field of vision, moving as he moves his head. A chill runs down his spine, "What in the world is this?"

On the other side of the dorm, Samuel rubs his eyes, yawning and stretching, his gaze landing on Gabriel, who's staring blankly at his laptop screen. "Morning, Gabriel," Samuel greets, reaching for his clothes.

 Gabriel turns, asking his roommate, "Ever heard of someone seeing a countdown like it's etched on their retina?" 

Samuel blinks, "Isn't that from a sci-fi movie plot a few years back? Haven't you seen it? Search online; there's plenty."