...…..☆....
The safe house was a tomb of artificial silence, broken only by the hum of the air filtration system. Shi-Yoon didn't return to his sanctuary. The "weirdness" was no longer a fever; it was a permanent state of being. He told himself it was tactical,a necessary observation of a Grade S threat ,but as he sat in the darkened living room, his back against the wall, his eyes never left the bedroom door where Seo-Jun slept.
Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford, yet his body demanded it. To stay awake, he did what he did best: he analyzed.
He moved silently into the bedroom. The moonlight filtered through the reinforced glass, casting a pale, silver glow over the bed. Seo-Jun was asleep, his breathing shallow and rhythmic. Shi-Yoon stood over him, the Aether Watch on his wrist set to a low intensity medical scan.
He began to observe every inch of the boy. He looked at the curve of Seo-Jun's jaw, the vulnerability of his exposed throat, the way his pale skin seemed almost translucent under the moon. He was looking for a weakness a physical pressure point, a flaw in the dermal density, anything that would allow him to end the "variable" if the Chronos Needle failed.
His eyes traced the line of the boy's collarbone down to the center of his chest, where the invisible Reaper's Mark lay dormant. To any other observer, this was just a handsome young man. To Shi-Yoon, this was an intricate map of a potential apocalypse. He noted the slight tremor in the boy's hand, the way his eyelashes cast long, delicate shadows. It was an intimate, invasive inspection, driven by a cold, desperate need for control.
If I have to kill you, Shi-Yoon thought, his gaze lingering on the pulse point in Seo-Jun's neck, I need to know exactly how deep the blade must go.
The exhaustion eventually won. Shi-Yoon slumped into a chair at the foot of the bed, his head dropping back. He intended to take a twenty-minute tactical nap.
He was back in the ruins of the red glass.
The sky wasn't purple anymore; it was a bruised, pulsating crimson. The child in the black silk hanbok was sitting on a shattered pillar, swinging his bare feet. The tattered teddy bear was tucked under one arm.
"You look tired, Lighthouse Keeper," the child said. His voice was no longer a whisper; it was clear, melodic, and terrifyingly ancient. "Is the weight of the lighthouse too much for your mortal shoulders?"
Shi-Yoon stood his ground, his hand instinctively reaching for the Reaper's Blade. It was there, heavy and cold. "What are you? You aren't Seo-Jun."
The child laughed, a sound like silver bells breaking on stone. "I am the part of him you created. I am the silence you carved into his fate. You gave him a gift, Shi-Yoon. You gave him the freedom of the Void."
The child hopped down from the pillar, the red glass crunching under his feet. As he walked, the tentacles emerged,not from his back, but from the shadows themselves, coiling around his small form like a living throne.
"He's so fragile, isn't he?" the child mused, his vertical red pupils fixed on Shi-Yoon. "You spent all that time tonight looking for a way to break him. But you can't break what doesn't belong to the system. You're looking for a heart to pierce, but his heart is a black hole."
"Enough," Shi Yoon growled. He lunged.
He didn't hesitate. He swung the Reaper's Blade with every ounce of his Soul Energy, aiming to cleave the child in half. He wanted to end the dream, to end the confusion, to end the "variable" once and for all.
But the blade never hit.
The tentacles erupted from the ground with the speed of a lightning strike. Before Shi-Yoon could react, one wrapped around his right ankle, another around his left knee, and three more coiled violently around his waist.
The strength was impossible. It wasn't physical force; it was the weight of an entire dimension pressing inward. Shi Yoon was lifted off the ground, the scythe falling from his grip and shattering into red dust.
The tentacles tightened. He felt his ribs groan under the pressure, the air being squeezed out of his lungs. He was pinned, paralyzed, and utterly helpless.
The child walked closer, his bare feet silent on the glass. He stood directly in front of Shi-Yoon's floating, trapped form. He reached up, his small, cold hand cupping Shi-Yoon's face.
The child's smile widened, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp.
"You think you're the guardian," the child whispered, his face inches from Shi-Yoon's. "But you're just the guest. The Mark isn't a shield, Shi-Yoon. It's an invitation. And we've already let ourselves in."
The child leaned in closer, his crimson eyes filling Shi-Yoon's entire field of vision. "Do you want to know a secret? When you look at him, you aren't looking for a weakness. You're looking for a reason to stay. And that... that is your true end."
The tentacles gave one final, bone crushing squeeze.
Shi-Yoon woke with a silent scream, his body jerking so hard he fell from the chair. He scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath, his hands instinctively clawing at his waist where the dream-tentacles had been.
He looked at the bed. Seo-Jun was still asleep, his expression peaceful, his skin pale and beautiful.
Shi-Yoon stood in the dark, his heart racing, his body trembling with a cold, visceral terror. He looked at his Aether Watch. Only fifteen minutes had passed.
He looked back at the sleeping boy. The intimacy of his earlier observation now felt like a trap. He had looked for a weakness in the boy's flesh, but the dream had shown him the weakness in his own soul.
He walked out of the bedroom, his movements stiff and mechanical. He couldn't be near the boy anymore. Not tonight. He opened a portal to his apartment, but as he stepped through, he felt a lingering, cold sensation around his waist ,a phantom pressure that refused to fade.
The Lighthouse Keeper had seen the Sovereign, and he knew now that the "shh" wasn't a warning. It was a countdown to a silence that no blade could ever reap.