Part 1

Jin awoke in a haze. His body felt as though it had been through a storm—aching, heavy, and disoriented. The ground beneath him was cold, and the echoing thrum of his pulse was all he could hear. His breath came out in shallow gasps as he sat up, forcing his blurry vision to focus.

His legs trembled, but his body—his mind—were still in survival mode. His heart raced as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, the realization hitting him like a wave: He had escaped the altar, but now, what was this new world?

He turned around. The stairs he had fled down were a distant memory, and behind him, the thick wooden door he'd kicked open stood ajar. He had been running, reacting—surviving. Now, he had no idea where to go.

The sound of bustling streets filled his ears as he finally stepped out, blinking at the scene before him.

The streets were a chaotic blend of life, much like the cobbled roads he had seen in the distant past of his memories—19th-century architecture adorned the buildings, yet there was something distinctly different about the place.

People walked by in fashionable clothing, some wearing fine fabrics that gleamed in the light, while others wore tattered garments that spoke of poverty. It was a place of stark contrast—opulence and squalor, side by side. The scent of coal smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of street food and horses.

Jin's eyes darted from one face to the next, overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of it all. This wasn't the world he had known. This wasn't Seoul. He had crossed some invisible line.

But it was the movement of the crowd that really caught his attention. A sea of people who were rushing—no, running. Panic was written across their faces as they spilled down the street, heading in the opposite direction of him.

Then he heard it.

The loud pounding of boots on cobblestone, shouting voices from behind.

Jin spun around, trying to make sense of the situation. A large group of uniformed officers stormed towards him—dozens, maybe more. Their presence was overpowering, their voices rising in a frantic crescendo.

"Step back!" one of them shouted, his words muffled, unclear, as though lost in a whirlwind. "Move, now!"

Jin's pulse quickened. He couldn't understand them, but the panic in their voices was undeniable. Fear was in the air, and it was contagious.

His mind raced to catch up. Why are they after me? What did I do?

But no answers came. His thoughts were muddled, scattered. The oppressive feeling of uncertainty suffocated him.

I have to get away, he thought.

His body moved on its own—he stumbled, confused and disoriented, trying to make sense of the overwhelming noise and movement around him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat heavy with dread. He had to escape. This was not his fight, not his world.

But then, like a punch to the gut, the overwhelming sense of being watched grew. He felt... trapped. As if all of his movements were being calculated.

Suddenly, the weight of a heavy hand came down on the back of his neck.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch—everything faded. His body went slack, the chaos around him dimming into the distance. His mind struggled to stay afloat, but the overwhelming exhaustion crushed him. The blackness claimed him, his limbs going weak.

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The sound of people's footsteps drew closer, but it was distant—faint, as if he were sinking deeper into a dream. The last thing he heard before the darkness fully claimed him were muffled voices, their words incoherent, like a chorus of whispers.

Then, nothing.

Part 2: The Trial Of Corruption

Purple mist swirled in the dim, hazy air, curling like smoke at the edges of Jin's consciousness. He was lying on something soft, his body weightless, but his mind remained clouded. A light, almost imperceptible touch brushed his forehead—a sensation like a kiss—but there was no warmth. The mist felt cold now, as if it had seeped into his very bones. His eyes snapped open.

"I'm alive?" Jin whispered hoarsely, his breath catching. "Was it all a dream?"

For a brief, disorienting moment, it seemed possible. Maybe everything—the altar, the corpses, the deadly rituals—had been a hallucination, a nightmare. But then, a wave of realization washed over him, and with it came the crushing certainty that it was not. The air shimmered with the presence of something vast and ancient. He could almost feel the weight of existence pressing down on him.

Above him, the sky stretched on forever, a velvet dark canvas punctuated by a million glittering stars. The stars did not twinkle; they pulsed with strange, cold energy. Beneath his feet, the ground was covered in a thick, roiling mist that clung to his skin, cold and oppressive.

Jin stood, unsteady, his eyes searching the strange landscape. Then he saw them—eight figures, their faces obscured by shadow, moving rapidly toward him. Their armor clanged with a sound like distant thunder, a rhythm he felt rather than heard. The language they spoke was foreign, incomprehensible, but its cadence stirred something in him, a deep, ancestral memory.

Their movements were swift, fluid, and haunting. They passed right by him without seeming to notice him. Their presence—intangible, yet imposing—made him feel insignificant, as if he was no more than a shadow in their world.

The figures halted suddenly, and in that moment, the stillness was profound. A single man stepped forward from the group—his armor gleaming in the eerie starlight. He was an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered, with the presence of a ruler. He raised a hand, and as if responding to an ancient command, words materialized in the air before Jin. They hovered, glowing with a golden intensity, like stars written in the fabric of the universe itself.

"Are you a Hero or a Fool?"

Jin's heart raced as the words hovered before him. He knew those words. He had heard them before, somewhere deep inside his own mind. A familiar whisper, a riddle that spoke of destiny, of a choice that must be made. His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself instinctively reaching toward the words, as if they were the key to understanding everything.

Before he could move, the vision shifted again. The faceless figures dissolved into the mist, and in their place appeared more words, written in a script that was both ancient and powerful. These words glowed with an eerie intensity, growing brighter as they filled the air.

"The End is Nigh. The Cycle Shall Repeat. The Empires Will Burn, and the Gods of Old Shall Return. And You... will Choose."

The words hung in the air, suffocating the space around him. The weight of the prophecy felt oppressive, like it was pressing down on his chest. Jin's mind reeled, the words vibrating with a terrifying finality. He had always known there was more to his fate than just survival. But now, it was clear: the world was on the cusp of destruction, and whatever part he was meant to play, it would not be easy.

He felt a strange compulsion to speak the words aloud, as if his voice was required to set the prophecy in motion.

"The End... the Cycle..." Jin muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "The Empires... the Gods... and I... will choose?"

As he spoke, the words began to fade, melting into the air like mist at dawn. And then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The ground trembled beneath his feet as a golden door—massive, ancient, and imposing—materialized before him. It was the same door, the one he had seen in his dreams, the one that had haunted his nightmares. The door was adorned with a strange symbol—a massive, watchful eye, carved into the moon's crescent shape. Its gaze was cold, unblinking, and somehow... knowing.

The door stood there, an undeniable presence in the darkness, as if it had been waiting for him. Its surface gleamed with an otherworldly light, casting long shadows in the mist.

Jin froze. His heart raced, a sense of urgency rising in his chest. He could feel it now, deep in his bones—the trial was beginning.

Without thinking, he reached out. The door responded to his touch, the surface of the golden metal shuddering as if it recognized him. And then, in an instant, it opened, revealing a blinding light.

The last thing Jin heard was the words echoing through his mind, reverberating in his very soul.

"Trial of Corruption begins."

And then, the world shifted again.