Somewhere far away…
A quiet village hidden between golden fields.
Laughter echoed through the air. Farmers pulled carts. Elders played board games under old trees.
Children ran barefoot through the grass, chasing dragonflies.
In the distance, a 12-year-old boy sat on the tallest tree, the wind brushing gently across his face.
Seo Gyeol.
Eyes calm. Hands on his knees.
As if waiting for something… or someone.
Below him stood a small girl with braided hair and a gap-toothed smile.
"Big brother! Let's go back home already," she called out.
Seo Nari. Age 8.
His younger sister.
He blinked down at her. Then slowly smiled.
"Yeah… Nari. Let's go."
He hopped down from the tree and paused, squinting at her.
"Huh."
"What is it, big brother?"
"It's weird," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I feel like… I'm forgetting something. Something important."
Nari tilted her head.
"Maybe it's your imagination. Come on!"
She giggled as he crouched down and picked her up onto his back.
"Yay! Piggyback ride! I missed this!"
"Missed it?" he laughed. "But I carry you like this all the time."
He laughed again.
But something in his laugh felt… wrong.
They walked through the street, passing familiar faces, warm lanterns, the smell of dinner.
Everything looked exactly as he remembered.
And yet—It felt like a memory being stitched together, thread by thread, from something broken.
When he reached the door of their home, he paused again.
"It's so familiar," he whispered. "But why does it feel like I'm seeing it for the first time in years?"
"Mother! We're home!" he called, stepping inside.
A woman emerged from the kitchen. Her hair was tied in a low bun, and flour dusted her apron.
"Gyeol! Look at you! You're filthy—and Nari too!"
She wagged a finger but smiled. "How many times have I told you not to roll around in the dirt like wild dogs?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but his throat caught.
She looked… just like he remembered.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she laughed. "You act like you haven't seen me in forever."
Gyeol swallowed hard.
"It's nothing," he said quietly. "I think I'm just hungry."
He stepped into the house, deeper.
And there—sitting cross-legged on the floor, wiping sweat from his brow—was his father.
A lean man with weathered skin, a long beard streaked with gray, and eyes sharp like a hawk.
"Tch. Brat. What are you doing here?"
"I—uh… I live here?" Gyeol blinked. "I'm hungry."
His father scoffed, then chuckled.
"Of course you are."He gestured for him to sit.
Gyeol hesitated, then sat down slowly across from him.The old man looked at him, thoughtful, stroking his beard.
"So… how are you doing, Gyeol?"
"What kind of question is that?" Gyeol frowned."You see me every day."
But then—he paused.Why did it sound like a stranger asking?He looked down at the floor.And saw the tears dripping from his face.
Drip.
One after another.
I'm crying?He hadn't even realized.His hands trembled.
"Seriously, son…"His father chuckled softly, voice thick with warmth and a touch of regret."You're still such a crybaby. Always have been."
Gyeol blinked. Tears still streamed down his face.
"You never change. Even now."
His father leaned back, glancing toward the door as if someone were waiting outside.
"Your friend… he came by. Said I should tell you something."
He paused, then met Gyeol's eyes—firm, unwavering.
"No. I'll tell you this in my own words: It's not your time yet. Go back.Go back to where you came from.That hell you're in now—you're going to have to face it. You're not done fighting.But listen well… a light is coming to destroy that darkness."
"A light?" Gyeol frowned, confused. "What are you talking about, Father?"
"Tch. Still as thick-headed as ever."His father sighed, then shouted—
"GO BACK, SON!"
And everything shattered.
••••
Gyeol gasped awake, chest heaving, lungs burning as if he'd surfaced from underwater.
He blinked.
Soldiers… sunlight… burned ruins… faces…
Smiles.
He was alive.
"Damn…" he muttered. "I'm alive."
"HAHAAH THANK BUDDHA!"Dok Yun's voice broke into a sob-laugh as he collapsed beside Gyeol
"You're back! You crazy bastard! I told them I could do it!"
Tears were streaming down his face, but he wiped them quickly and growled at a soldier staring too long.
"What're you lookin' at, huh?! These aren't tears! It's sweat, you idiot! SWEAT!"
One of the soldiers whispered,
"Didn't know our pervy doctor could cry…"
"SHUT UP!"
Laughter broke out across the camp.
From a distance, Beak stood silently, arms crossed, his Asura mask tucked under one arm.
He watched the commotion, expression unreadable.
Second Squad Leader Nam Hye-Rang leaned lazily on a ruined wall, eyeing him.
"So," she teased, "you're not gonna say it? He lived. You're happy, right?"
Beak scoffed, turning his head.
"Hmph."
But he didn't deny it.
At the heart of the carnage, standing among corpses, collapsed halls, and the smoldering ruins of the once-feared Thousand Venom Sect, stood Hyeolgeom Gunju.
He stretched his arms and looked around the destruction like a man finishing a satisfying chapter in a bloody novel.
"Phew…Now that was one hell of a story arc."
He grinned wide.
"Let's see what the next one brings."