"Growing up as an orphan was a painful and lonely journey. I never knew the warmth of a family's embrace or the security of a home. Instead, I was tossed from one cold and terrible institution to another, like a forgotten piece of luggage.

The orphanage became my whole world— a place filled with countless faces of children longing for love, but where love itself seemed scarce. We clung to each other, the only family we knew, as we navigated through the challenges of life without guidance or support.

It was a constant battle to find scraps of affection in a sea of indifference.

I remember the nights spent huddled under thin blankets, the chill of loneliness seeping into my bones. The tears I shed were silent and unseen, for vulnerability was met with scorn and judgment.

Huh? It says here that she's sensitive. What do they mean by that?

I'm sure she's a sweet girl but... she's just not for us.

She's the girl that's been all through kinds of fights, huh?

There's something just off about her.

...I don't think we're ready for a broken girl yet.

The pain of feeling unwanted and forgotten etched itself into my soul, leaving scars that would never fully heal.

They didn't pick me.

Nobody wanted me.

Days turned into years, and the world outside the orphanage felt like a distant dream. I yearned for a sense of belonging, for someone to hold me close and tell me I mattered. However, the days stretched on, filled with monotonous routines and unspoken longing.

Sometimes, kind-hearted volunteers would visit, their eyes filled with pity as they tried to offer temporary solace. They would bring gifts and kind words, but their presence only highlighted the stark contrast between their lives and ours. Their visits were fleeting.

As I grew older, the reality of my circumstances weighed heavily on me. The dreams that once filled my heart were replaced with a sense of resignation. Hope became a distant memory, a flickering flame struggling to stay alight.

Though within the depths of despair, a spark of determination emerged.

I met the best grandmother I could ever have.

She made me realize that I had to be my own savior, my own source of strength. I refused to let the label of an orphan define me. I poured my heart into my studies, clinging to education as my lifeline to a brighter future.

And now, as I sit in this room, recounting the pain and isolation of my past, I also hold onto a glimmer of hope. Though the wounds still ache, I have found strength within myself. I have learned to build my own family, with friends who have become my pillars of support.

And Yu Jimin was one of them... the Jimin in my timeline."

The other me suddenly paused with a sad smile as I, Jimin, and Aeri only stared at her in silence— I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

We have the same exact situation. The orphanage, children, volunteers, and even mentioning grandma. Everything she said happened to me a long time ago. And knowing she's from a very distant future... somehow, I feel a bit scared.

Am I going to become like her one day?

What happened to the show in her timeline? Did she survive the outbreak? What's her purpose for doing all of this? And what happened to her Jimin?

There were so many questions in my mind that I didn't even notice I was clenching Jimin's hand, shuddering. I was thankful enough that she didn't mind and only gave my hand a comforting kiss.

Promptly, the other me took a deep breath.

"In my world, everyone was already aware of the system and it wrecked humanity. But to me, it was a blessing. Because after becoming a player, I climbed up the ranks and found a way to hack into the system and go back to this past."

Skeptically, Aeri narrowed her eyes. "Hack? No way, that's not possible. You don't even know how it was created-"

"Oh, I know." The other me chuckled and looked at me, "And I'm sure this Minjeong will know too... because her end is ne