The moment the figure's voice echoed again, I felt an odd pull deep within me, like a thread being tugged at the core of my being. Minseok tightened his grip on my arm, his sharp gaze scanning the vast expanse of blackened earth around us. “Seojin, whatever it’s saying, don’t listen,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” I nodded, though the pull was almost irresistible. The figure remained still, its featureless head tilted slightly, as if it was waiting for something. The oppressive sky above seemed to churn with energy, and for a brief moment, I wondered if this was the end. But then, a thought struck me—if this was the end, why did it feel so... familiar? Minseok's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Do you recognize this place? It feels... off.” Before I could respond, the ground beneath us shifted. Minseok and I instinctively braced ourselves, but instead of another collapse, the blackened earth morphed, twisting and transformin
“Seojin, whatever it’s saying, don’t listen,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” I nodded, though the pull was almost irresistible. The figure remained still, its featureless head tilted slightly, as if it was waiting for something. The oppressive sky above seemed to churn with energy, and for a brief moment, I wondered if this was the end. But then, a thought struck me—if this was the end, why did it feel so... familiar? Minseok's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Do you recognize this place? It feels... off.” Before I could respond, the ground beneath us shifted. Minseok and I instinctively braced ourselves, but instead of another collapse, the blackened earth morphed, twisting and transforming. Within seconds, the barren expanse had become something entirely different—a picturesque village surrounded by lush green fields and rolling hills. The oppressive atmosphere dissolved, replaced by the soothing warmth of sunlight and the g
The weight of Jihoon’s small frame pressed against my side as we guided him away from the ruins of the guardian’s domain. The moonlight bathed the forest in silver hues, and the faint rustle of leaves underfoot was the only sound breaking the stillness. I glanced at Minseok, whose jaw was tight, his focus unwavering as he kept watch for any threats. Jihoon clung to my arm, his trembling evident even through the tattered fabric of his clothes. His earlier aura of menace had completely evaporated, leaving behind a boy who seemed lost and fragile. “Are you sure about this?” Minseok asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “No,” I admitted, keeping my voice low as well. “But we can’t just leave him.” Minseok sighed but didn’t argue. His silence was enough to convey that he trusted my decision, even if he didn’t fully agree with it. As we walked, the oppressive energy of the corrupted zone slowly lifted. The trees, once gnarled and blackened, began to regain their natural
The airship hummed softly as it ascended, the interior bathed in a faint blue glow from the console lights. Jihoon sat beside me on the cushioned bench, his legs swinging nervously as he stared at the floor. Minseok stood by the window, his arms crossed and gaze fixed on the receding jungle below. The tension in the cabin was thick. I could feel Minseok’s unease radiating off him, though he kept his expression neutral. Jihoon’s small, fragile presence felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. But he was here now, and we had to figure out what to do next. “You should get some rest,” Minseok said, breaking the silence. He turned to look at me, his face softening slightly. “You’ve been pushing yourself nonstop.” I shook my head. “I’m fine. There’s too much to think about.” Minseok sighed but didn’t push further. Instead, he turned his attention to Jihoon. “What about you? Are you hungry?” Jihoon glanced up hesitantly. “A little…” Minseok nodded and stepped out of the ca
The airship’s smooth descent into the guild’s private hangar felt like a relief after the tension-filled journey. The hum of its engines quieted as the vessel came to a halt, and the ramp lowered with a hiss of pressurized air. Jihoon clung to my hand, his wide eyes darting around the sleek, metallic hangar. It was clear he had never seen anything like this before. Minseok stepped off the ramp first, his gaze scanning the surroundings as if expecting trouble to materialize. I followed with Jihoon in tow, his small steps hesitant as he glanced nervously at the guild members bustling around. The noise of machinery and voices filled the hangar, but the moment we appeared, a hush fell over the space. “Is that a kid?” someone muttered. “Where did they pick him up?” I ignored the murmurs and focused on Director Yoona, who was waiting for us at the far end of the hangar. Her sharp, no-nonsense demeanor was as intimidating as ever, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Jihoon’s p
The guild was bustling the next morning, the remnants of last night’s chaos cleaned up, but an uneasy tension lingered. The team worked diligently to analyze the data from Jihoon’s sudden surge, but something still felt... off. Minseok noticed it too. He leaned closer to me as we walked down the hall. "Do you feel it?" he asked, his voice low. I nodded. "Like the calm before a storm." Our steps quickened as we approached the main strategy room. Director Yoona was already there, standing before the holographic map. Unlike usual, her expression wasn’t sharp but deeply concerned. “New intel just came in,” she began, motioning for us to take our seats. "There’s been an unexpected flare of corruption near one of our lesser-known safe zones. An isolated outpost in the northern mountains." I frowned. "That’s far from any active zones. Why would the corruption target it?" She adjusted the map, zooming in on the mountainous region. "That’s exactly what we’re trying to figure out. T
The sun had begun to set by the time we returned to the outskirts of the Guild HQ. The horizon was bathed in a golden glow, a stark contrast to the unease settling over me. Minseok walked ahead, his usual composure unwavering, while Jihoon clung close to my side. His small hand occasionally brushed against mine, a silent plea for reassurance. The gates loomed ahead, and as they opened to admit us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The Guild courtyard, typically bustling with activity, was eerily quiet. “Where is everyone?” Minseok murmured, his hand instinctively hovering near the weapon at his side. Jihoon hesitated, his eyes darting around. “It’s too quiet.” We stepped further in, and the sound of boots clicking against stone echoed unnaturally in the stillness. I glanced at Minseok, who nodded in silent agreement. Something wasn’t right. “Director Yoona should’ve sent someone to debrief us,” I whispered. Minseok’s voice was tense. “Stay alert.” The
The room fell into a stunned silence, Jiho’s words slicing through the tension like a blade. Everyone froze, their eyes snapping to him. He didn’t look frightened, but there was an eerie calm in his expression, a stillness that sent shivers down my spine. “What do you mean, Jiho?” Minseok asked, his voice steady but strained. Jiho raised his gaze to meet ours, his dark eyes holding an unshakable certainty. “It’s here. The corruption—it’s close.” For a moment, nobody moved. Then Minseok sprang into action, issuing commands with the efficiency of a seasoned leader. “Na Ri, secure the perimeter. Hye Jin, monitor any energy spikes. Soo Min, take Jiho somewhere safe. We can’t risk—” “No.” Jiho’s voice was firm, louder than I’d ever heard it. Everyone turned to him in surprise. “You can’t hide me. If you do, it’ll find another way in. It always does.” “What are you talking about?” I asked, stepping closer. “How do you know this?” Jiho hesitated, as if searching for the right wor
The air was thick with tension, each breath I took feeling heavy as the creature staggered, its form flickering like a dying flame. My mind buzzed, trying to piece together what we had just faced—what we were up against. The Veil was not a simple opponent, not some fleeting threat we could easily brush aside. It was relentless, and it seemed to find new ways to push us to our limits. The creature’s howls echoed in the stillness, but as I looked at it, I realized something even more unnerving. Its body wasn’t just crumbling. It was unraveling. There was something inside it, something far more dangerous than any physical form."Minseok," I whispered, my voice trembling despite myself. "It’s not just a monster, is it? It’s... something more."Minseok’s eyes never left the creature. He was steady, even in the face of the chaos around us. I could see his mind working, always thinking ahead. He was calculating, strategizing, even now, as the creature’s remnants crumbled into the dust of th
The figure before us—this shadowy creature—loomed like a specter in the midst of the darkened forest. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a reminder that this wasn’t just some mind game. The air crackled with a palpable tension as if the very atmosphere had turned against us.I could feel the heat of Minseok's presence at my side, his hand gripping mine like an anchor in the storm. But it wasn't enough. The pressure was suffocating, and this time, I couldn’t wait for him to act.I could feel it—the surge of energy that always came when I was backed into a corner. The sensation was familiar now, this hum that resonated deep within me. My mind raced, calculating the best course of action, even as fear clawed at the back of my throat. Minseok’s voice broke through the rush of thoughts. "Seojin, stay calm. We’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, don’t lose focus."I swallowed hard, nodding without taking my eyes off the creature in front of us. The figure’s dark, featureless fac
The man’s departure left an odd silence in the air, one that hummed with the tension of uncertainty. We stood at the edge of the safe house, the stone walls half-covered in ivy, the structure itself appearing to blend in with the forest as though it had been abandoned for years. The faint hum of the wind rustling through the trees seemed louder now, as though the world itself was holding its breath.Minseok’s hand tightened around mine again, his grip steady, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore. "We need to go inside," he said, his voice low, but his usual calm demeanor was tinged with unease. "If he’s right about the Veil knowing we’re here, we might not have much time."I nodded, though the feeling in my chest didn’t subside. Every instinct screamed that something wasn’t right, that the man who’d led us here was hiding something. But I didn’t have time to question it, not now.Together, we stepped toward the small wooden door of the safe house. I
A high-stakes confrontation awaited us. Minseok’s words echoed in my mind as we made our way toward the mountains, the early morning mist swirling around us like an omen. Despite the calm exterior we presented, both of us knew the gravity of what we were about to face. The Veil was more than a looming threat—it was a relentless force that would stop at nothing to devour everything we held dear.The forest ahead was dense, its towering trees casting long shadows across the path. The air was thick with moisture, the earthy smell of wet leaves filling my lungs with each breath. I could hear the distant call of a bird, the only sign of life in the otherwise silent wilderness. It felt like the calm before a storm, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what was coming.Minseok’s hand was still in mine, his grip steady and strong, a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone in this. His presence was a comforting anchor, grounding me in the chaos of our mission. But as we walked, I couldn’t shake t
It was an odd sensation, walking alongside Minseok in the dim light of the underground space, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the growing distance between us. The air felt colder, as if the basement’s chill wasn’t enough to explain the icy tension that hung between us. Every step I took felt heavy with the unspoken words we hadn’t shared. We had come here for answers, but instead, all I felt was a growing sense of dread. The path we were on, no matter how necessary, was unraveling everything we thought we knew."Seojin," Minseok murmured, breaking the silence that had settled around us. His voice was quieter than usual, almost thoughtful. "Are you sure you’re ready for this?"I paused, glancing up at him, surprised by the concern in his eyes. "I don't know," I admitted, my throat tight. "But what else can we do? We’ve already crossed the line." He didn’t respond immediately, as if weighing my words. His eyes were distant, like he was searching for something in the flick
The morning stretched out before me like a long road I wasn’t sure I was ready to walk. Minseok’s presence beside me felt distant, as if a rift had silently formed overnight, pulling us apart. I had no idea how to bridge the silence, especially when I was unsure of how I felt myself. The tension was thick enough to choke on. I had spent so many nights trying to convince myself this wasn’t real—that what Minji had said, what we were facing, couldn’t be the truth. But reality had a way of catching up, no matter how fast you ran.As we walked through the familiar streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t the same anymore. The world, the city, even the air felt different. It was as if everything was holding its breath, waiting for something inevitable to happen. And I couldn’t decide if I was prepared for it or terrified. The silence between Minseok and me felt suffocating, but I didn’t know how to break it. What was I supposed to say? That I was worried? That I didn’t kn
The next morning, the city felt unnaturally quiet, as if it had held its breath overnight, waiting for something to shift. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the streets, and I could almost hear the echo of our footsteps from the night before. But today, I wasn’t sure if we were walking toward an answer or deeper into the darkness.Minseok and I had barely exchanged a word since Eunji’s visit. He was quiet, too quiet. His usual confidence was overshadowed by the weight of the previous night's events. As we moved through the bustling streets, the usual vibrancy of the city seemed muted, like the sound had been turned down. People hurried on, heads down, trying to avoid the tension that hung in the air.We reached the outskirts of the district, where the more rundown buildings stood, their walls cracked and weathered. The contrast between the gleaming upper levels of the city and the poverty-stricken lower districts was always jarring, but today it felt like a stark re
The air in the council chambers felt thick, like the weight of unseen expectations pressing against my lungs. Golden light filtered through the high-arched windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors. The room, usually a place of cold, calculating decisions, now carried an edge of something else. **Uncertainty.** I sat beside Minseok, my posture deceptively relaxed, though my fingers remained curled against my lap. Across the table, Grand Esper Hwang’s sharp gaze raked over me before settling on Minseok. His disapproval was practically tangible. “The situation is escalating,” he said, his voice measured. “We’ve received word that a faction of Guides is rallying under an unknown leader. They demand reformation—an equal footing with Espers.” I scoffed, leaning back. “Reformation? More like a coup.” Minseok’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, his face unreadable. “How credible is this threat?” Hwang’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Credible enough t
I could barely hear myself breathe over the chaos. The clash of weapons, the crackle of energy, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground—it all blurred together in a cacophony of battle. Every strike I blocked sent vibrations up my arms. Every counter I made was met with resistance. Minseok was right. If we tried to run now, we’d be slaughtered. But if we stayed— I dodged a spear aimed for my gut, twisting to the side before driving my own blade into the enemy’s exposed flank. They barely reacted, as if pain was irrelevant to them. As if they were something beyond human. Which meant they were exactly what I feared. Corrupted. Not just the mindless ones, either. These were the intelligent kind, the ones who still held onto fragments of their former selves. The ones who could strategize. Who could anticipate. Who could corner us if we weren’t careful. I gritted my teeth. We needed to break through. “Soo Min!” I shouted over the chaos. “Do you have enough energy l