Finding Paradise

Kale Jin, or as most people knew him, Kale, was an Asian man with sharp yet tired features. His name was actually a shortened version of his Korean name, Jin-Hyuk, chosen because it was easier for others to pronounce. At 29 years old, he was a professional gamer, celebrated in the online world for his skill, strategy, and countless victories. He'd won numerous gaming titles, and his shelves were filled with trophies from global tournaments. Yet, beyond his digital achievements, Kale was painfully awkward and introverted, struggling with basic social interactions.

It was this inability to connect that had played a part in the breakdown of his marriage. His wife, Malia, had left him when their daughter, Stacy, was only five. Despite this, Stacy adored him. She was one of the few people who understood her father's quirks and saw beyond his shortcomings. While others might see him as detached or aloof, Stacy saw someone who was trying—someone who loved her in his own, quiet way.

That morning, Stacy had asked Kale to take her to the park. Her request had caught him off guard. He wasn't the type to plan outings, and social settings made him uncomfortable. But he saw the excitement in her eyes and hesitantly agreed, reasoning that it couldn't be too hard to spend a day outside.

The park was buzzing with life—children laughing, dogs barking, and couples strolling hand in hand. Kale felt like a fish out of water. His hands were stuffed in his hoodie pockets as he trailed behind Stacy, who ran ahead to the swings.

"Push me, Daddy!" she called out, her smile brighter than the sun overhead.

Kale hesitated, glancing at the other parents who seemed to handle such moments with ease. Awkwardly, he approached the swing and gave it a gentle push. Stacy giggled, urging him to push harder. Kale obliged, his movements stiff and mechanical. Still, her laughter was infectious, and for a moment, he allowed himself to smile.

After the park, they got ice cream from a nearby stand. Stacy ordered strawberry while Kale opted for vanilla. As they sat on a bench, Kale realized he didn't know what to say. Small talk was never his strong suit, even with his daughter.

"Do you like it?" he asked, motioning to her ice cream.

Stacy nodded enthusiastically. "It's my favorite!"

He nodded back, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. Stacy, ever perceptive, quickly filled the silence. "You should try something new next time, Daddy. Vanilla is boring."

"I like boring," he replied, his tone deadpan. Stacy burst out laughing, and despite himself, Kale chuckled too.

Their next stop was the cinema. Stacy picked an animated movie, and Kale bought the tickets and snacks, fumbling with the change at the counter. Inside the theater, he felt out of place among the other parents, who seemed so much more at ease. But Stacy's excitement made it worth it. She clutched his arm during the intense scenes and whispered questions about the plot, her energy pulling him out of his usual shell.

By the time they left the theater, the sun was setting. Stacy's steps were slower, her energy waning. They boarded the train to head home, and Stacy quickly dozed off, her head resting on Kale's lap. He looked down at her peaceful face, a rare warmth spreading through him.

As the train hummed along the tracks, Kale's phone buzzed in his pocket. Carefully, so as not to disturb Stacy, he pulled it out. The caller ID read: Unknown Caller.

Frowning, he answered. "Hello?"

"Have you played the game?" a female voice asked, her tone calm yet cryptic.

"What game?" Kale replied, his brows furrowing. "Who is this?"

"Who I am doesn't matter," she said. "What matters is whether you've played Finding Paradise."

Kale's confusion deepened. "Finding Paradise? Yeah, I've played it… I think. I found it in my collection recently. Why?"

"How long did you play?" the voice pressed.

"I don't know. Not long," he said, glancing at Stacy. "I just finished the first mission."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a faint click as the line disconnected. Kale stared at his phone, shaking his head. "Weird," he muttered. Calls like this weren't entirely unusual for him. As a professional gamer, he occasionally got random promotional calls, though this one felt stranger than most.

Just as he was about to pocket his phone, the screen lit up. A message flashed:

Finding Paradise. Game On. System Updating 50%.

"What the…" Kale murmured, his words trailing off as the train's lights flickered.

Suddenly, the train surged forward, the lights shutting off completely. Stacy stirred awake, clutching his arm as the carriage was plunged into darkness.

"Daddy?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"It's okay, I'm here," Kale said, his tone more confident than he felt. His phone buzzed again. System Update 70%.

"Turn on your flashlight," he told Stacy.

She fumbled for her phone, but as soon as she activated it, a spark flew, and the device shorted out. Kale's stomach tightened. The train was moving faster now, unnaturally fast. The wind howled through the cracks, but the passengers—who should have been screaming in panic—were eerily silent.

Kale reached down to grab his phone, which had fallen to the floor, but the growing pressure pinned him in place. His phone buzzed once more: System Update 100%.

A second later, the screen went black, smoke rising from the device as it overheated.

The train screeched to a halt, the sudden deceleration throwing Kale forward. Stacy clung to him as the lights flickered back on. The carriage was empty.

"Stay close," Kale said, his voice tight. He guided Stacy toward the door, but a thought stopped him. Turning, he headed for the front of the train, where the driver's cabin was located.

It was empty. No driver, no controls—just an unmarked console. He grabbed the train's emergency communicator and spoke into it. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Static crackled through the speaker, followed by a distorted voice: "Welcome, Periodic_Chaos673. Welcome to Finding Paradise. Player is now online."

Periodic_Chaos673 was his gamer name Kale froze, his blood running cold as the words echoed in the silent cabin.