The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of runes along the walls casting soft shadows across the meticulously arranged space. Mi-Rae sat at her desk, her posture as precise as the lines of the reports she meticulously reviewed. A stack of papers rested to her left, each bearing the Silver Talon Guild’s insignia. Her sharp, cold eyes flicked over the words, absorbing strategies, operations, and upcoming missions.
She had long abandoned the indulgence of personal moments, burying herself in the work demanded by her rank. But as she leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly, a faint rustle reached her ears. Her head snapped toward the sound, her instincts on high alert.
Her gaze landed on the desk, where a small, unassuming package now lay. Mi-Rae’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t heard anyone enter, and the door had remained firmly closed. Slowly, she reached for the item, her movements cautious. The package felt cool to the touch, the faint shimmer of the silver necklace catching the glow of the runes. Beneath it, a folded piece of paper rested.
She hesitated, her heart beating faster, though she couldn’t say why. Something about the simplicity of the necklace tugged at her memory. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the paper. Words, written in precise, familiar handwriting, stared back at her:
Happy birthday. I’m still here.
Her gaze drifted back to the necklace—its delicate chain glinting faintly under the runic glow. The simple elegance was exactly her style, tugging at memories of her brother’s teasing grin as he promised, 'One day, I’ll get it for you.' She clutched it to her chest, a fragile lifeline to the bond they once shared.
The air in the room seemed to shift, the oppressive weight she had grown accustomed to suddenly heavier. Mi-Rae’s breath caught as she read the words again, her vision blurring with unbidden tears.
“Jae-Hyun,” she whispered, the name cracking as it left her lips.
A flood of memories surged forward—her brother’s warm laughter, the way he used to ruffle her hair despite her protests, the reassuring presence that had always made her feel safe. Her grip tightened on the paper as her shoulders began to shake. Relief coursed through her, but it was tainted by a sharp undercurrent of anger. They had lied to her, twisted her brother's supposed death into a weapon to forge her into this cold, unyielding figure. How dare they? How dare they manipulate her grief like that? The realization stung, but it also reignited a determination she hadn’t felt in years.
They had told her he was dead. Her father, her brother Tae-Jun—both had insisted that Jae-Hyun had fallen to monsters far beyond his ability. They had used his death to drive her, to push her beyond her limits, to mold her into the unyielding leader she had become.
But deep down, she had never fully believed it. The idea that Jae-Hyun—her unshakable, stubborn, invincible brother—could be gone had never sat right with her. And now, this simple message confirmed what her heart had refused to accept.
Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the necklace to her chest, her composed façade crumbling in the privacy of her room. The necklace—the very one she had admired in a shop window long ago—was unmistakable. She vividly recalled the day: they had been walking through the marketplace, her attention caught by its simple elegance. "You like that?" Jae-Hyun had teased, his warm grin teasingly infectious. She’d brushed it off, but he’d promised, "One day, I’ll get it for you." She never imagined that promise would resurface now, in a moment she’d long stopped hoping for. She remembered that day vividly, the way Jae-Hyun had laughed at her fascination with such a simple trinket, promising to get it for her one day.
“You’re alive,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. The words felt surreal, as though saying them aloud might shatter the fragile reality. Her tears continued to fall, a catharsis of joy, relief, and heartbreak.
The pain of betrayal simmered beneath her relief, a bitter reminder of the lies she had been fed. For a brief moment, she wondered why Jae-Hyun hadn’t come to her himself. The answer arrived as quickly as the question: their father and Tae-Jun. Of course. He couldn’t risk exposing himself to their plots, not yet. Her brother was alive, but he was still in danger. That thought only strengthened her resolve—she would find him, but quietly. She would keep up the act, pretending everything was as it had been, all while searching for the brother who had defied death. Her father and Tae-Jun had used her brother’s supposed death to control her, to manipulate her into becoming a tool for the guild. But for now, that anger took a backseat to the overwhelming relief that Jae-Hyun was alive.
She placed the necklace around her neck, the cool metal settling against her skin. The sensation was both grounding and surreal, as though her brother’s presence was physically with her.
As her fingers brushed the delicate chain, a surge of warmth spread through her chest. The cold weight she had carried for so long began to lift, replaced by something she hadn’t felt in years—hope. Her trembling hand clenched into a fist over the necklace. Jae-Hyun had defied death to send her this message, and she wouldn’t let his effort go unanswered. A fire reignited within her, burning away the bitterness that had consumed her. She would find him, no matter the cost. And when she did, she would remind herself—and him—of the bond they could never lose.
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She paused, frowning slightly. How had it even gotten here? She hadn’t sensed anyone, and no alarms had been triggered. “Unease flickered in her thoughts—how had the necklace even arrived without setting off alarms? But she dismissed it quickly. If anyone could pull it off, it was Jae-Hyun. She trusted his resourcefulness.
The faintest trace of something lingered in the air, an unnatural stillness that vanished as quickly as it came. It felt like a piece of him, a tangible connection to the brother she had thought she’d lost forever. Her hand rested over it, her resolve solidifying. She wouldn’t let them control her anymore, not completely. For now, she would play her part, feigning loyalty to the guild while keeping her intentions hidden. But in her heart, she knew the truth: she would find Jae-Hyun, no matter what it took. And once she did, she wouldn’t let him out of her sight again.
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Jae-Hyun leaned against the cold stone wall of a quiet alley, scanning the messages Ahri had sent. She had been quick to gather information about the Tower, but none of it was particularly new to him. Still, her thoroughness was commendable, and her findings carried a professional edge that made him appreciate her involvement.
Ahri: The Tower’s floor 49 was cleared by a high-ranked guild three weeks ago. Floor 50 is still untouched. Aegis Legion and Crimson Blades are rumored to be challenging it soon. Nothing groundbreaking, but their success could change things.
Another message followed shortly:
Ahri: Also found info on gate ownerships. Silver Talon controls at least three Class-B gates within the capital’s outskirts. Couldn’t confirm more without drawing suspicion. I’ll keep digging.
Jae-Hyun tucked his phone into his pocket, his mind heavy with the implications. Silver Talon’s grip extended further than he’d realized, and their gate holdings likely played a significant role in maintaining their power. Still, it wasn’t enough to act on just yet. He needed to grow stronger, to secure more leverage before he could make his move.
He pushed off the wall, deciding to wander the bustling city streets for a while. The vibrant energy of Seoul felt surreal after the oppressive silence of the Twilight Vale. Merchants hawked their goods, adventurers in various states of readiness exchanged boasts, and civilians navigated the chaos with practiced ease. Jae-Hyun kept his hood low, avoiding unnecessary attention as he moved through the throngs of people.
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He turned a corner into a quieter district, the din of the main streets fading behind him. As he walked, a voice cut through the relative calm, one that sent a chill down his spine.
“You’re certain the preparations are in place?”
Jae-Hyun froze, his body tensing instinctively as his breath caught in his throat. Tae-Jun’s voice was sharp and commanding, carrying a weight that sent a chill through him. Every syllable seemed to echo, amplifying the tension. Jae-Hyun pressed himself tighter against the wall, the rough stone digging into his back. For a moment, Tae-Jun’s sharp gaze swept dangerously close to his hiding spot, forcing Jae-Hyun to hold his breath. The sound of his brother’s boots against the cobblestones was a steady reminder of just how close he was to being discovered. He ducked behind a low wall, his shadows coiling protectively around him as he peered out cautiously. There, a short distance away, stood Tae-Jun.
Tae-Jun’s sharp features were unmistakable, his posture exuding authority as he spoke to another man dressed in the Silver Talon Guild’s uniform. His brother’s voice was calm yet carried an edge of command that made Jae-Hyun’s stomach churn.
“Double-check the guard rotations. I don’t want any oversights,” Tae-Jun continued, his tone clipped. “We can’t afford distractions while we focus on the upcoming operations.”
The other man nodded, offering a quick salute before hurrying away. Tae-Jun lingered, scanning the surroundings briefly before turning to leave. His movements were precise and calculated, each step exuding purpose. Jae-Hyun’s gaze narrowed as he observed his brother. This wasn’t just a figurehead of the guild; Tae-Jun’s commanding presence hinted at a deeper role in their plans, a key player pulling strings from behind the scenes. The thought sent a shiver through Jae-Hyun, solidifying the gulf between them and the magnitude of what he faced.
For a brief moment, Jae-Hyun felt an overwhelming urge to step out of hiding, to confront Tae-Jun directly. His hands twitched, and his jaw tightened. But logic prevailed, and he forced himself to stay put, the shadows around him tightening in silent restraint. Acting now would be reckless, a suicide mission fueled by emotion rather than strategy.
He opened his status interface, almost hesitating before focusing on his brother. The system displayed the familiar window, but one detail stood out like a glaring beacon:
Tae-Jun
Rank: A
Status: Red
The sight made Jae-Hyun’s chest tighten. Rank A. Memories of their shared past flooded his mind unbidden—sparring matches in the training grounds, late-night talks about their ambitions, and Tae-Jun’s quiet encouragement when Jae-Hyun doubted himself. He could almost hear Tae-Jun’s voice from years ago, laughing as he adjusted Jae-Hyun’s stance during training. Those moments felt like a cruel mockery now, overshadowed by the betrayal that had shattered their bond. Anger and pain simmered beneath his calm exterior, igniting a determination to one day face his brother as an equal, not a victim.
He had suspected it, but seeing the confirmation ignited a mix of frustration and grim resolve. The red status was a warning, a reminder of the gulf that still separated them. Tae-Jun wasn’t just strong—he was leagues above Jae-Hyun’s current capabilities.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He wasn’t ready—not yet. But the system’s display was a stark reminder of the work that lay ahead. His brother’s confidence, his commanding presence, only reinforced the urgency of Jae-Hyun’s need to grow stronger.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. Acting impulsively now would accomplish nothing. Instead, he withdrew into the shadows, letting them swallow him as he moved away from the scene unnoticed.