Yun didn't move. The spoon in his hand froze halfway to his mouth, and the sweetness of the ice cream faded into nothing.
"Prepare…"
The voice came again. Clear, closer, and unmistakably not from outside, but from inside his head.
Yun's fingers tightened slightly. Creighton frowned and leaned closer. "You okay?"
Yun blinked, and for a brief moment, everything returned to normal. The quiet chatter of people, the soft clink of spoons against glass, the low hum of the shop. Everything felt ordinary. Too ordinary.
"…Yeah," Yun said quietly, though his voice lacked its usual steadiness.
They left the shop a few minutes later. Evening had settled, and the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting long shadows across the pavement. Yun walked beside Creighton in silence, but his thoughts were far away.
"Prepare."
The word returned, heavier this time.
"What am I supposed to prepare for…?" Yun muttered under his breath.
Creighton glanced at him. "Did you say something?"
"…No."
Then Yun stopped mid-step. Something shifted, not in the street, but inside him. The air felt heavier, and the sounds around him dulled, as if the world itself had slowed. His hand moved instinctively to his chest.
A pulse. Slow. Then stronger.
"…Not now…"
And suddenly, everything cracked, not in reality, but in his perception. The street in front of him fractured, the ground splitting apart, shadows stretching unnaturally as the light dimmed.
In reality, nothing had changed. Creighton stood right in front of him, calling his name with growing concern.
"Yun?!"
But Yun wasn't seeing him. Not anymore.
At the end of the street, a figure stood. A shadow, still and silent, watching him.
"…You see it too…?"
The voice returned, deeper and colder. Yun's eyes widened. "Who are you…?"
No answer came. The shadow didn't move, but the pressure grew, inside his chest, inside his head, everywhere at once.
Then it took a step forward. Just one step.
And everything inside Yun exploded.
Not in reality, but within him. He saw himself falling, the ground shattering beneath him, light erupting violently from his chest as everything spiraled out of control.
But in truth, he hadn't moved. He was still standing, breathing heavily, his body trembling.
"Yun!"
Creighton grabbed his arm tightly. "Look at me!"
The world snapped back instantly. Everything returned to normal. The street, the lights, the people, nothing had changed.
Except him.
The pulse remained, stronger now, more dangerous.
The shadow was gone, as if it had never existed. But its voice lingered.
"…Not ready yet."
Yun's body trembled, not only from fear, but from realization. This wasn't just imagination. Or maybe that was what made it worse.
"…It's coming," he said quietly.
Creighton stared at him. "What is?"
Yun didn't answer.
That night, he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again, the shadow, the presence, the voice.
"Prepare."
He sat up suddenly, his hand gripping his chest. The pulse was still there, steady, alive, watching.
"…This isn't normal."
By morning, he had already made his decision. He wasn't going to school, and he wasn't going home.
He needed answers.
Yun changed direction, leaving the city behind as he headed toward the forest, toward the only person who might understand.
His grandfather.
The hidden shelter revealed itself as Yun approached, as if it recognized him. He stepped inside, and the air immediately felt different, calmer, yet heavier.
His grandfather was already waiting. Of course he was.
"You came earlier than expected," the old man said without turning.
Yun didn't hesitate. "Something is wrong."
The old man remained silent. Yun stepped closer. "I'm hearing things. I'm seeing things. This isn't just power anymore…" His voice lowered. "…It's inside my head."
Silence filled the room. Then the old man turned slowly, his eyes calm, observant, measuring.
"Tell me everything."
Yun did. He described the voice, the shadow, the way reality seemed to fracture in his perception, and the pulse inside his chest.
When he finished, the old man nodded slightly. "As I expected."
Yun frowned. "…You knew?"
"Not exactly this," the old man replied. "But the signs were clear." He stepped closer. "What you're experiencing is not loss of control. It's lack of understanding."
"That doesn't explain anything."
"It explains everything," the old man said calmly, tapping Yun's chest. "Power is not something you use. It is something you become."
Yun stayed silent.
"You're trying to control it like a tool," the old man continued. "That's why it resists you."
"…Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Understand it."
Yun exhaled sharply. "That's not an answer."
"It is. You just don't like it."
Silence stretched between them.
"Your power hasn't fully awakened yet," the old man continued. "And your mind is trying to catch up."
"The voice?"
"A fragment."
"The shadow?"
"Possibly real."
Yun froze. "…What?"
"You're not imagining everything," the old man said. "But you're not seeing everything correctly either."
Yun's chest tightened. "So what do I do?"
The old man closed his eyes briefly, then spoke slowly. "Stop resisting. Observe it. Feel it. Let it move."
"That's dangerous."
"Yes."
The answer came instantly.
"If you try to force control," the old man continued, his voice lowering, "…it will break you."
Yun clenched his fists.
"Your task is simple. Understand one part of it."
"One part?"
The old man pointed to his chest. "The pulse. Start there."
Yun took a slow breath.
"Sit."
He hesitated, then obeyed.
"Close your eyes."
Yun did.
"Don't control it. Don't fight it. Just feel it."
Silence filled the space.
At first, nothing.
Then… a pulse.
Slow. Steady.
Yun focused without forcing it. Gradually, it became clearer, deeper, closer.
For the first time, it didn't feel violent.
It felt… alive.
His breathing slowed.
"Good," the old man said quietly.
Yun didn't respond. He couldn't.
Because for the first time… he wasn't afraid.
But deep inside, something remained.
Watching.
Waiting.
And this time, Yun was beginning to feel it… watching back.