Beneath a sky awash in the shimmering hues of cosmic dusk, the celestial canopy above Wysteria Academy flickered with stardust and slowly drifting constellations. The marble gardens glowed under the gentle radiance of floating lanterns, their soft light swaying like dreams in the breeze. Crystalline trees lined the path, their sapphire leaves twinkling like distant galaxies as music echoed faintly from the grand hall behind.
Amidst this dreamlike serenity, two towering figures stood at the edge of the celebration.
Iseul, Mi-cha's mother—a vision of timeless elegance—stepped forward with an aura that could quiet storms. Her raven-black hair fell like ink over her noble shoulders, and her eyes, shimmering gold like divine halos, scanned the crowd anxiously. Her royal garb of silver-stitched obsidian shimmered subtly with divine energy.
Beside her, Gunhee loomed—a monolithic presence, broad-shouldered and battle-scarred. The faint glow of his deep brown eyes betrayed a sharpness honed by centuries of war. A jagged scar near his left eye etched across his stern face, hinting at brutal campaigns fought in realms beyond mortal comprehension.
"She's never been this quiet for this long," Iseul murmured, her voice a melodic blend of worry and grace.
Gunhee's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the star-kissed horizon. "She's strong, but… she always lets us know. This silence feels… off."
Just then, a school staff member emerged, bowing respectfully. "Pardon me—are you Mi-cha's parents?"
Iseul's gaze sparkled with hope. "Yes. Have you seen her?"
"I saw her earlier," the staff replied with a polite smile. "She was dancing… with a student named Muhan."
Iseul's expression softened into gentle relief. "So she's safe…"
Gunhee grunted, a wry smirk breaking through. "Let's go meet this Muhan boy… the one who's dared to steal our daughter's heart."
They moved with measured grace and imposing presence through the lantern-lit festivities. But as they reached the party's center, neither Mi-cha nor Muhan could be seen.
"Let's look outside," Iseul whispered.
Their path led them through an open gate into the academy's quiet gardens, where they discovered the young couple under the starlight—sitting close, fingers barely touching, yet hearts tethered like twin flames. Mi-cha looked up at Muhan, her gaze filled with unspoken affection, while Muhan, radiant under the moonlight, spoke with the calm confidence of someone lost in love.
Iseul smiled warmly. "Found them."
But Gunhee's approach was measured and commanding. The air seemed to grow heavier with each of his footsteps.
Startled, Mi-cha jumped up. "M-Mom! Dad!" She turned quickly. "This is Muhan… my boyfriend."
Gunhee's brow furrowed. "So… you're the one?"
He stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly with the ancient power of the Divine Sect. "You strong, boy?"
Iseul giggled softly, placing a hand on her husband's massive forearm. "Darling, don't scare him."
Muhan, undeterred, bowed respectfully and lifted Iseul's hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "An honor to meet Mi-cha's esteemed family—and her beautiful mother."
Iseul blushed faintly, laughing. "Oh, you're smooth."
Mi-cha rolled her eyes with a smirk. "You see why I'm hooked?"
Gunhee crossed his arms. "What sect are you from?"
Muhan hesitated. "I'm… Jonjae, sir."
A dangerous glint flickered in Gunhee's eyes.
"You do realize who we are, don't you?" His voice was low, quiet—ominous.
Mi-cha closed her eyes, pleading in her heart. Please, don't let this pull us apart…
"I do, sir," Muhan said solemnly. "But I love her. I'd die to protect her."
Gunhee's expression tightened. "Then prove it."
"What?"
"If you can scratch me—just once—I'll acknowledge your relationship."
Muhan stood straighter. "With all due respect—"
"Come," Gunhee interrupted, already walking toward the sparring arena.
The night wind stirred as the group approached the ancient dueling grounds, illuminated by glowing runes etched into the stone floor. The air shimmered with lingering echoes of centuries-old battles. As Mi-cha trembled, Iseul held her hand gently.
Gunhee cracked his knuckles. "Let's see if you're worthy of my daughter."
"I've heard of you," Muhan said, smirking. "You contended for the title of Demi-god in Aethoria."
Gunhee tilted his head, mildly amused. "So you did your research."
"My father—Han Lockhart—is your rival."
Gunhee laughed. "We fought over rulership of a galaxy in the Glacier Universe. A feud that nearly tore the Lockhart and Lawson families apart."
"And all because the reigning Demi-god was… negligent."
"Lazy bastard," Gunhee muttered.
"I will protect Mi-cha," Muhan said, eyes shining with conviction.
"Then show me."
In an instant, Gunhee blurred and appeared behind Muhan. A single palm strike sent the young warrior crashing into the stone, creating a smoking crater. Blood streamed from Muhan's head as he staggered to his feet.
"You think you're strong," Gunhee said, his voice now steel. "But the multiverse doesn't forgive weakness. A single assassin—stronger than you—could end her life."
Mi-cha screamed, "Stop!" Her eyes brimming with tears. "Please, he's trying!"
Muhan raised his head, eyes glowing dimly. She believes in me.
Gunhee approached. "Sorry, kid. You're not ready."
"I'm not strong enough," Muhan admitted telepathically to Mi-cha.
Her voice echoed back, trembling. Don't say that. I love you, Muhan… please…
Muhan closed his eyes. His Aether awakened.
In that moment, time warped.
Space distorted.
His form flickered—and reappeared before Gunhee in a flash faster than a thought. With a roar, he launched Extreme Punch, his hand cloaked in Aether so potent it bent the surrounding cosmos. Reality fractured.
A glowing Hyperverse bloomed around them, birthing a pocket dimension of spiraling stars and fragmented galaxies. In this realm, where time obeyed no law, Muhan stood illuminated in serene blue light. His aura flared like divine fire. His hair sparked crimson then flickered black. His eyes—twin galaxies of glowing neon-blue—shone with unwavering purpose.
Gunhee's eyes widened, truly seeing the boy's resolve.
As Muhan struck again, Aether screamed through the air. Gunhee barely dodged—grinning.
"Interesting."
Muhan raised his arm, stopping time in the pocket dimension with a thought. The universe hushed. Only he and Gunhee existed, suspended between seconds.
"I will protect her," Muhan said, his voice calm, yet absolute.
Gunhee looked into the boy's glowing eyes—and for the first time in decades, felt challenged.