CHAPTER 1 : The Great Silence Shattered

The Great Silence Shattered

​The village of Gahoe slept beneath its cloak of pristine snow. The thatched roofs wore white caps, and the paths traced dark lines through the frozen landscape. For twelve-year-old Minjun, it was a living fairy tale.

​“Catch, Father!” he called out, launching a tightly packed snowball.

​His father, a robust man with broad shoulders, dodged with a laugh. “You're getting faster, son! But not fast enough yet...” He prepared his own snowy ammunition.

​“Enough playing, you two!” his mother called from the porch of their humble home, a smile warming her face. “Minjun, come inside, it’s really starting to get cold.”

​He caught a snowflake in mid-air, marveling at it. For a moment, the world was nothing but peace and innocence.

​Old Kim, the vegetable seller, was passing on the path. “Beautiful evening, isn't it? You could almost believe the old stories, the spirits watching over us.”

​Minjun’s mother smiled. “They’re only tales, Master Kim.”

​Then, the sky was torn open.

​Two forces collided in the center of the village in a blinding flash. The initial shockwave pulverized the market square, sending stalls and debris flying in a cloud of snow and dust. The villagers screamed, stunned.

​“WHAT IS THAT?” a woman shrieked.

​The fighters were nightmare visions. Their movements were so fast they were just streaks of light and shadow. Every parry, every dodge released uncontrolled waves of energy that flattened the surrounding houses.

​The warrior with luminous patterns on his skin blocked a terrible blow. The dissipated energy sliced through the village homes, which collapsed with a wooden groan.

​“Get back!” he shouted to the terrified villagers.

​His opponent, a silhouette warped by a violet haze, sneered. “You think you can protect them?”

​An attack from the luminous warrior was dodged—the energy missed its target and pulverized a section of the surrounding area.

​Old Kim fell to his knees. “My vegetables... my whole life...”

​The fight was so intense, so evenly matched, that neither controlled the consequences of their movements. They were the eye of a storm that was devouring the village piece by piece.

​“MINJUN!”

​His father's voice was a knife in the din. A wave of residual energy, the result of a clash between the two powers, cleaved the air straight towards where Minjun stood paralyzed.

​Time seemed to freeze. Minjun saw his parents throw themselves over him. Their embrace was the last warm thing he knew before the world exploded.

​The impact was dull, brutal. Their bodies shielded him from the worst, but the shock violently hurled them against the wall of their house. The sound of breaking bones was muffled by the cracking of the structure, which gave way under the impact, partially collapsing onto them.

​“Mom... Father...?” Minjun whispered, breathless, unable to comprehend the sudden stillness of their bodies.

​Then the pain arrived—a tearing in his soul. He collapsed, blood running from his nose. As his consciousness fled, a savage heat exploded in his chest. A scarlet glow melted the snow around him. A power that was not his own answered the call of despair.

​On the other side of the devastated village, near the ruins of the well, Heukryong was frozen stiff. His hands trembled, his legs refused to move. A primal fear pinned him to the spot, a terror that twisted his gut. He wanted to scream, to run, but his body no longer obeyed.

​Yet, amidst this paralysis...

​Something else was being born within him.

​As he watched the houses being pulverized by the shockwaves, as he heard the screams fade in the rubble, a contradictory emotion surged from deep inside him. A macabre fascination. An almost shameful excitement.

​This is... terrifying... but...

​His eyes widened, no longer in fear, but in awe of this display of absolute power. The rumble of the colliding energies, the cracking of the yielding structures—all of it created a strange euphoria within him.

​Destruction was everywhere, but all he saw was power at work. A power that reduced everything in its path to dust. A power that only obeyed itself. Even as he was seized by fear.

​As he gazed at the chaos with growing fascination, a shard of stone thrown by a nearby explosion violently struck his temple. The impact was dull, knocking him out.

​His inert body slumped into the snow, blood trickling from his temple. But in his unconsciousness, something persisted. A vibration. Like an echo of the chaos that had imprinted itself upon him.

​Peace was dead, sacrificed on the altar of a fight that surpassed them all.