Chapter 6 - Echoes of Fate
The forest around Jae-Hyun and Ahri was still, an oppressive silence that settled between the gnarled branches and frostbitten roots. The pale morning light filtered through a canopy of skeletal trees, casting an ethereal glow over the path ahead. Jae-Hyun’s pace was measured, his expression a mask of focus as he adjusted the strap of his pack. Though the Frost Revenant Prime’s crown was safely tucked away in his pack, Jae-Hyun’s mind was preoccupied with the trials he had faced and the questions they had left unanswered.
Ahri followed a short distance behind, her eyes scanning the surrounding woods with a mix of caution and curiosity. The tension between them lingered, but she didn’t press it. The rift had left its mark on Jae-Hyun, and though she was concerned, she trusted he would speak when ready.
“You’ve been quiet since we left,” Ahri said casually, breaking the silence. Her tone was lighter, not prying but gently probing.
Jae-Hyun glanced back briefly. “A lot to think about.”
She nodded, walking alongside him now. “Whatever you faced in there… it’s not something I’ll pretend to understand. But I’m here, if you want to talk.”
“Thanks,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ahri didn’t press further. Instead, she watched him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders and the way his gaze seemed distant, as if replaying something over and over in his mind. He’s carrying something heavier than I can understand, she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. But whatever it is, he won’t let anyone else see the weight. They continued in quiet understanding, their steps crunching softly on the frost-covered ground. The faint smell of damp earth mixed with the sharp tang of frost, while a distant caw of a raven added a haunting undertone to the forest’s stillness.
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As they walked, the air seemed to shift, a faint hum vibrating through the space around them. Jae-Hyun’s system interface flickered into view without warning, a new notification hovering in his vision:
System Notification: Rift Memory Detected. Access Memory? Y/N
His stride faltered for a moment, his gaze narrowing on the message. Ahri noticed the change and slowed, glancing at him curiously.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice steady.
Jae-Hyun didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the notification as if it might vanish if he looked away. His mind churned with questions. What could it show me? A chill crept up his spine, but it wasn’t just from the frosty air—it was the weight of something unknown. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone clipped. “Just… hold on a moment.”
Ahri didn’t argue, though her eyes lingered on him with quiet suspicion. She leaned against a nearby tree, crossing her arms as if shielding herself from the creeping unease in the air. Jae-Hyun’s finger hovered over the interface, his breath shallow, before he pressed “Yes.”
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The world around him blurred, the forest fading into a swirling vortex of shadow and light. The scene solidified, and he found himself standing in a desolate landscape. The sky was a sickly gray, the ground cracked and lifeless. In the distance, a figure knelt by a modest grave, their shoulders shaking with sobs.
Jae-Hyun approached cautiously, his chest tightening as the scene unfolded. His sister was there, older and wearier, clutching a small bouquet of flowers. Her voice trembled as she placed the bouquet at the base of the grave, where his name was carved into the cold stone.
“Why did you leave me?” she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking with grief. “Why?”
The sight was a dagger to Jae-Hyun’s heart, each sob from his sister resonating like an accusation. He took a step closer, the icy ground beneath him cracking ominously, but he couldn’t reach her.
Then, from the shadows, came his father’s voice, sharp and cold. “It’s been a year. I suppose we should make an appearance, if only for appearances’ sake.”
Tae-Jun followed, his voice dripping with mockery. “The boy finally managed something useful. Took himself out of the way.” He chuckled darkly, brushing snow from his sleeves as though the scene before him was an inconvenience.
Jae-Hyun’s sister didn’t turn to face them, her sobs unrelenting, as though the weight of their cruelty couldn’t pierce the grief that consumed her. Jae-Hyun’s hands trembled, fists curling as he felt himself pulled deeper into the despair of the moment. I did this to her… I left her alone in their hands.
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The pale ether gave way to shadows, its cold grip lingering in Jae-Hyun’s chest. He staggered slightly, his breath hitching as he tried to process what he had just seen. But the system didn’t let him rest. A pulse of light surged through the void, and the next vision took hold like a vice.
The scene shifted abruptly, the gray landscape giving way to a world drenched in darkness. Jae-Hyun stood amidst ruins steeped in blood and ash, the cries of the dying reduced to echoes. His blade, coated in gore, hung limply at his side, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. Corpses littered the ground—faces frozen in terror, faces he recognized.
Ahri’s lifeless form was the first to catch his eye. She lay crumpled beneath a shattered pillar, her empty gaze locked on him. His sister’s voice rang out next, sharp and trembling, her figure shrinking as she backed away.
“It’s not you… It can’t be you!” she cried, her voice raw with disbelief. Her tears fell, mingling with the blood-soaked earth.
Jae-Hyun tried to speak, but his voice failed him. The darkness inside him surged, like a clawed hand gripping his throat. He took a step forward, but with each step, the shadows that clung to him lashed out, leaving destruction in their wake. He had become a force of ruin, a curse upon everything he held dear.
The memory lingered, each lifeless face etching itself into his soul, until he couldn’t bear to look anymore. His chest heaved with labored breaths, the weight of his actions suffocating him. The darkness that had once been his ally now clung to him like a curse, and he was utterly alone, having destroyed the very world he sought to protect. He tried to scream, to fight back against the vision, but it held him, forcing him to see every agonizing detail.
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Jae-Hyun’s knees buckled, his breath ragged as the vision faded into another shift. This time, the scene was brighter, almost idyllic. He sat at a wooden table, sharing a meal with Ahri and his sister. Their laughter filled the air, a warmth he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe it was real. The food was warm, the chatter light, and the world beyond the windows seemed untouched by pain.
The warmth of the scene was intoxicating—the sound of his sister’s laughter mingling with Ahri’s wry quips over the meal. For a fleeting moment, Jae-Hyun allowed himself to believe in the illusion. The food was fragrant, the light soft, and the air free of tension. But then, like a jarring note in a serene melody, a crimson flash tore through the sky outside the window.
Jae-Hyun’s laughter caught in his throat, his instincts screaming. The glow painted the room in sharp, jagged hues of red, casting ominous shadows that stretched unnaturally. His sister looked up, her cheerful expression faltering as unease crept into her eyes.
“What… is that?” Ahri’s voice was barely a whisper.
Jae-Hyun didn’t answer, his focus locked on the flash as it flared once more before fading. The moment passed, and yet it didn’t. The unease lingered like a phantom, a reminder that peace was fragile, fleeting, and never without cost.
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The visions dissolved, and Jae-Hyun was thrust into a void. A voice, deep and resonant, echoed around him.
“Come to me, and I’ll answer all questions.”
The words were a lure, dripping with power and mystery. Before Jae-Hyun could react, the void shifted, and he was pulled into another vision.
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He stood in a grand chamber, its walls carved from obsidian and lined with ancient runes that pulsed faintly. The air was heavy, thick with an overwhelming sense of dread. At the center of the room, a figure sat upon a throne of jagged stone, their features obscured by shadow. The presence emanating from the figure was suffocating, a power so vast it made Jae-Hyun’s skin crawl.
The chamber was eerily quiet as the figure began to speak, their voice low but carrying an undeniable weight. “You wish for answers. Then see the truth for yourself.”
The words pulled at Jae-Hyun, their weight irresistible. He opened his mouth to speak, but before the question could form, a flood of memories surged into his mind. The force of them was overwhelming, and he stumbled, clutching his head. His knees hit the cold obsidian floor, and the room seemed to spin as the memories consumed him.
Memories surged into Jae-Hyun’s mind, vivid and consuming. He was no longer a spectator but a silent observer, placed into a series of moments that unraveled the story of the figure before him. The memories were not his own—they belonged to the entity on the throne.
The Demon King had once been a ruler not of destruction, but of balance. The realms of mortals and demons had been separate, but harmonious in their uneasy coexistence. The Demon King’s rule was absolute, yet he maintained order, ensuring the power of his domain did not spill over into the mortal world. He had grown wise, deliberate, and, in the eyes of some, too "soft."
It was his closest allies—generals and confidants who had fought beside him for centuries—who turned against him. They had long believed that the Demon King’s restraint was a betrayal of their nature. To them, demons were meant to conquer, to revel in chaos and destruction, not to maintain balance. They whispered among themselves, their dissatisfaction growing into rebellion.
But they were not alone in their scheming. A higher force—a being shrouded in light, its intentions cloaked in divine authority—approached the dissenting generals. It promised them freedom, power, and the right to reshape Earth and the mortal realms as they saw fit. All they needed to do was ensure the Demon King was out of the way. The promise was irresistible. The entity guaranteed that with the Demon King imprisoned, the barrier separating the mortal world from their dominion would weaken, and they could rule unchecked. War could flourish, destruction could reign, and the mortals would be theirs to torment.
The betrayal was swift and brutal. The generals turned on the Demon King during a council meant to strategize for peace, sealing him within a prison of their combined power. The light-bound entity, watching from the shadows, ensured the bonds were unbreakable, locking the Demon King away in a void where time and space ceased to matter.
As the memories unfolded, Jae-Hyun saw the Demon King’s anguish. Not rage—though that was present, simmering beneath the surface—but profound betrayal. He had trusted his allies, only to have them strip away everything he had built. Worse still, the entity that orchestrated it all had used his imprisonment to turn the mortal world into a playground for chaos. The Earth had become a battleground, its people pawns in a game they didn’t understand.
The memory shifted, and Jae-Hyun found himself standing amidst the aftermath. The mortal world was in flames, torn apart by the demons unleashed in the wake of the Demon King’s fall. His once-loyal allies reveled in the destruction, their laughter echoing in Jae-Hyun’s ears. Above it all, the faint, ethereal glow of the light-bound entity loomed, observing from afar.
“This is what they wanted,” the voice of the Demon King resonated, filled with equal parts sorrow and fury. “War without end. Chaos unbridled. And they used me as the key to unlock it.”
The memory dissolved, and Jae-Hyun was back in the void, standing before the throne. The figure leaned forward slightly, the shadows parting just enough to reveal piercing, ember-like eyes. For the first time, Jae-Hyun felt as though he was being truly seen, his very soul laid bare before this being.
“They thought i was weak,” the Demon King continued. “And so they struck, believing I would not retaliate. But I see now. I was not weak—I was foolish. Foolish to trust, foolish to believe that order could coexist with ambition.”
Jae-Hyun’s fists clenched as the weight of the story settled over him. The betrayal, the manipulation—it all resonated far too deeply. He thought of his father and brother, their cold betrayal and mockery of his efforts. The parallels were undeniable.
“Why show me this?” Jae-Hyun asked, his voice low but steady. “What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?”
The Demon King’s eyes glowed brighter, his voice a rumble that shook the void itself. “Because you stand at a crossroads, mortal. The forces that move against you are the same that betrayed me. Their reach is long, their influence insidious. But they are not omnipotent. I tell you this because you will face them, and you will have a choice: to submit, as my generals did, or to resist.”
Jae-Hyun’s fists clenched, his mind racing as the weight of the Demon King’s words settled over him. He felt the fire of defiance stir within, but alongside it, a seed of doubt took root. Could he truly stand against something so vast, so insidious?
“And if I resist?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm, though his thoughts swirled with uncertainty. What would resistance mean—what sacrifices would it demand? He pictured the faces of those who had betrayed him, his sister’s fragile hope, and the shadows of enemies he had yet to even comprehend. A flicker of doubt gnawed at his resolve, but he buried it beneath a hardened glare, waiting for the Demon King’s answer. “What then?”
The Demon King’s ember-like eyes locked onto Jae-Hyun’s, and for a moment, the overwhelming presence seemed to soften, carrying a strange mixture of pity and respect. “Then you will walk a path fraught with peril and loss. But it will be yours to walk. Strength will not come easily, nor without sacrifice. But understand this: the true battle is not fought with brute force, but with will. Do not allow them to twist you, as they twisted my generals.”
Before Jae-Hyun could respond, the figure began to dissolve, its form fading into the shadows. The void around him collapsed, and with a sharp gasp, Jae-Hyun was thrust back into reality. The forest was unchanged, the pale light filtering through the trees, but the weight on him was unbearable.