The first thing I felt… was warmth.
Sunlight touched my face, soft like something out of a dream. A breeze brushed past, carrying the scent of fresh soil, blooming flowers, and distant bread ovens.
Birds sang. Laughter echoed far off. The sky above was blue—untouched.
I opened my eyes.
And wished I hadn't.
Because this world was still here.
Still spinning. Still peaceful. Still smiling without me in it.
I sat up slowly, dust brushing off my cloak. My body didn't ache, not the way it used to. There was no blood on my hands, no fire in the air. Just green fields swaying under the wind and a long dirt road winding toward the horizon.
Everything looked… clean. Too clean. As if nothing had ever happened.
I clenched my fists, feeling grass between my fingers.
This wasn't right.
This world had burned. I remembered the screams, the collapsing towers, the rain of ash. I remembered the ones who turned their backs. The ones who lied. The ones who said "I'll protect you" and left me behind.
So why?
Why did the sky look like it had never cracked?
Why did the people sound like they'd never lost anything?
I stood up.
The road stretched ahead, curving toward the capital.
And I walked.
Not because I had a destination.
But because the silence was unbearable.
As I moved, nothing stopped me. A farmer guiding a cart passed by without looking twice. Children chased butterflies across the fields. Even the guards at the watchtower didn't spare me a glance.
I was invisible.
Or maybe… the world had just stopped recognizing me.
I walked until the city came into view. Tall gates. Stone walls. Flags fluttering lazily in the wind. The same city where I bled for them.
Unchanged.
I stepped through the gates unnoticed.
Vendors called out prices. Bakers flipped loaves. Street performers spun flame for cheering crowds. It was a festival day, I realized. A celebration of peace.
Peace built on a lie.
I wandered deeper into the city, my steps light, quiet. A whisper among shouts. A shadow between the sunlight.
Then I saw it.
The statue.
Tall. Gleaming. Standing in the plaza like a god.
It was him.
The man they called the Hero. The one who stood tall in the end. The one who smiled and held the sword high.
I knew that sword. I knew the weight of it.
Because it had once been pointed at me.
I stared at the inscription.
"To the Light that Saved the World."
...Funny.
No mention of the ones who fought beside him.
No mention of the ones who were sacrificed for his rise.
No mention of me.
Got you, bro. We're switching gears—Haesoo doesn't confront her yet. He just spots her, watches quietly, and lets the moment simmer. No violence yet. He's patient, calculating. That slow-burn villain energy—he lets her live for now, but only because he chooses to. Let's show his control, his inner darkness, and his chilling calm.
Here's the reworked and expanded Chapter 1 continuation with the right pacing and mood:
---
Chapter 1 – The Peace That Shouldn't Exist
Seo Haesoo's POV
---
...I turned away.
Let them have their parades.
Let them praise their spotless savior.
Because soon enough…
The shadow they erased will step into the light again.
And this time…
I won't be asking for a place in their story.
I'll be writing the ending
---
The scent of cherry blossoms hit me harder than expected.
Sweet. Faintly nostalgic. Like a memory I didn't want.
I drifted through the plaza like a ghost. The crowd parted without knowing why. Maybe something in them still recognized me on instinct—an ancient fear buried under smiles and peace.
That's when I saw her.
Under the blossoms.
She stood at the steps near the university gates, laughing with others. Holding papers. Dressed in soft whites and pastel pinks. Fragile, like a dream painted over a nightmare.
And for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Aira.
That name, like a whisper through frost.
The one who smiled when others hesitated.
The one who said she believed in me.
The one who watched them drag me away—and didn't move.
She hadn't seen me.
Not yet.
She was busy talking to some new faces. Students. Idealists. People who believed in this bright new world built on the bones of forgotten ones.
I stood in the shade, watching.
Not a step closer. Not yet.
She still looked the same. A little older, maybe. But untouched. Untouched by the fires that consumed me.
She had survived. Thrived.
Laughed.
Like nothing happened.
My fingers curled into a fist.
There was a time when I would've rushed toward her—demanding answers, screaming for the truth. But that Haesoo was long dead.
The one standing here now?
He didn't need explanations.
He only needed time.
Time to watch.
To listen.
To wait for the right moment.
Because if there was one thing I had learned, it was this:
Vengeance doesn't need to scream.
It only needs to choose when.
I moved to a bench under the shade, eyes still locked on her.
The people around me were just noise. Blurs. Flashes of color.
But she was clear.
Too clear.
As if the world wanted to remind me of unfinished business.
I watched the way she tilted her head when she laughed. How she kept tucking that one loose strand of hair behind her ear. The small habits that hadn't changed.
The same smile.
The same hands.
The same voice that once whispered "I'm sorry."
But she didn't see me.
She didn't feel me watching.
That's how peaceful this world had become.
Even monsters could walk in daylight.
Unnoticed.
Unfeared.
I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
A couple passed by with flowers. A boy bought a sweet bun from a stall nearby. Normal moments in a normal world.
But peace is a fragile thing.
And fragile things break.
---
After a while, she started walking. Alone. Back toward the university gardens.
I didn't follow.
Not yet.
Let her feel safe.
Let her believe the past truly stayed buried.
Because when the time comes...
When she sees me again...
It won't be in a plaza full of strangers.
It'll be in the dark.
Where apologies mean nothing.
And forgiveness never existed.
I left the plaza without a sound.
The sun dipped lower, washing the rooftops in gold. I walked beneath banners that fluttered like they meant something—symbols of peace, prosperity, and fabricated harmony.
Eliath.
The name alone felt wrong in my mouth.
This city wasn't born.
It was rebuilt.
Over ashes.
Over corpses.
Over me.
---
The air grew thicker in the Silverbell District. It was quieter here. Wealth clung to every step like perfume—clean roads, polished fountains, cafés with glass walls and velvet seats. Laughter spilled out of one as a group of nobles toasted some pointless anniversary.
One of them had my last name.
Didn't recognize him.
Didn't need to.
I kept walking.
---
My feet took me toward The Cathedral Garden.
It was a place for reflection. Prayer. Forgiveness.
I paused at the gates.
Even now, people knelt before the statues, candles lit and faces turned skyward. Asking for peace. For love. For a future.
They never asked for truth.
Because truth is ugly.
And ugly things don't belong in places like this.
---
In a quiet corner, a little girl was feeding crows.
Black feathers glinted in the setting sun. One of them hopped closer to her hand.
Unafraid.
The girl giggled. "He's not scary," she told her worried mother. "He's just hungry."
I kept my eyes on the bird.
A predator.
Misunderstood by the innocent.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe I wasn't scary.
Just hungry.
---
I didn't stay long.
There was more of the city to walk.
More lies to revisit.
More memories to unearth.
And somewhere out there, the pieces were already moving. People I hadn't seen in years. Names that still burned. Secrets they thought were buried.
But I remember everything.
---
The moon rose over Eliath.
The city lit up like a jewel. Music echoed from every corner—street violins, tavern songs, orchestra practice at the university. Lovers strolled beneath lanterns. Lanterns I once hung with trembling hands during the festival of beginnings.
They still did it every year.
Even after everything.
Even without me.
---
I stopped at a tall bridge overlooking the river. The water shimmered with reflections of the stars.
Someone stood nearby, painting the scene.
He looked up and smiled. "Peaceful, isn't it?"
I looked at the water. Then at the brush in his hand.
"Not really."
He tilted his head. "You from around here?"
"No."
"Visiting?"
"...Something like that."
He nodded, then returned to his canvas. "Hope you find what you're looking for."
I already had.
I just wasn't done watching yet.
[Mission Update: Progressing...]
Time left until retribution:
Unknown.
But it's coming.
And the city?
It'll never see it coming.
---
I stood just beyond the city walls, where the lanternlight of Eliath faded into the dark.
My boots pressed into cracked stone, dry grass whispering in the wind. The air was cool out here—too clean. Too calm.
But my chest was burning.
I saw her.
I saw her face.
The same girl who looked me in the eye and said, "I'm sorry," before letting me fall.
Now she walked those polished streets like nothing ever happened. Laughed with people. Wore silk. Played saint.
The bile rose again.
My stomach twisted like it wanted to crawl out of me. I pressed my hand to the nearest wall to steady myself, breathing slow.
She was inside that city.
Living.
Worshiped.
Forgiven.
While I… was supposed to be dust beneath their feet.
I looked to the sky.
They erased me. Painted over the blood. Wrote their version of peace.
But if she's breathing in that city…
Then they haven't finished the story.
I raised my arm.
The shadow wrapped around it instantly—like it had been waiting. Hungry. A black flame sparked in my palm, quiet and perfect. No heat. No smoke.
Just wrath given shape.
I didn't scream. Didn't roar.
I just swung.
A single slash.
The flame extended like a blade, cleaving the night in two. A black crescent burned across the air above Eliath—wide, slow, deliberate.
It didn't hit the city.
But it wanted to.
And it left a mark.
A scar in the sky.
A message.
I see you.
And I haven't forgotten.
Then I turned.
Cloak snapping behind me. No applause. No alarms. Just wind and silence.
Let her sleep easy tonight.
Let her believe the past died with me.
But that mark above her city?
That was the last night she'll ever feel safe again.