The world was too quiet.
Jin Hyeon walked through what remained of Sector 13, his shoes crunching over glass that no longer reflected light. The streetlights had gone out hours ago, drained when his power surged. Even now, the edges of the buildings were wrong , outlines blurred, colors bled thin, like ink washed from paper.
He didn't know how far the collapse had spread. He didn't want to know.
His hands trembled as he stared at them. Skin pale. Veins faintly luminescent, but not like a mage's mana flow , this was colder, darker. The faint trace of that void energy pulsed beneath the surface, silent but alive.
The Bureau would come soon. He didn't need to see their lights in the sky to know that much. When something breaks the laws of the world, the world always sends someone to fix it.
He tightened his hood and kept walking.
The silence followed.
The air was thin and heavy at once. Every step felt wrong , the rhythm of life itself seemed to skip near him. When he passed a stray cat crouched beside a trash bin, its eyes glowed faintly blue for a heartbeat, then dimmed. It hissed, fur bristling, and ran the other way.
Even living things felt it.
His presence was a wound in the fabric of the world.
"Anti-magic," he whispered, testing the words aloud. They sounded unreal. A curse dressed as a miracle.
He remembered the shadow's voice from the abandoned store: You've given silence its voice again.
What did that mean?
Was this some kind of retribution? A balance to all the arrogance of magic , or simply punishment for being born without it?
He stopped beneath a half-collapsed billboard, the metal creaking in the cold wind. The advertisement flickered between colors, unable to stabilize. The closer he stepped, the dimmer it grew until finally, it went black.
He stared at his reflection in the dark screen.
A boy who shouldn't exist looked back.
For years, he'd dreamed of awakening , of fire, lightning, flight, anything that proved he was worth something. But what he had now… it wasn't power. It was negation. The death of everything he'd ever admired.
The world ran on magic. That meant his existence was a threat to it.
By the time dawn came, gray light filtered weakly through the clouds. Jin had crossed into the city's industrial edge, rows of old factories and storage yards long forgotten. The perfect place to disappear.
He found an empty warehouse, its walls cracked, mana conduits dead. Inside, the air was stale with rust and dust. Perfectly ordinary, and therefore safe.
He sank to the floor beside a rusted beam, exhaustion hitting all at once. He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept. Adrenaline had kept him alive this long, but now the fatigue caught up.
His body ached with a strange cold, like the warmth was leaking out of him slowly.
When he finally closed his eyes, sleep came like a fall into darkness.
He dreamed of light, and the sound of it breaking.
In the dream, he stood in an endless field of white. Above him, a sky of cracked glass. Through the fractures seeped something black, endless and fluid.
He looked down. Beneath his feet, symbols glowed, the same runes used in mana foundations, but warped, melting into new shapes. They whispered in a language he didn't know but somehow understood:
Return what was stolen.
Then the field shattered.
He fell through the light, through everything.
When he woke, the warehouse was trembling.
A low hum reverberated through the floor, like the city itself was groaning. He stumbled to his feet, eyes scanning the shadows, and froze when he saw the hovering drone outside the shattered window.
A Bureau recon unit.
Its lens flickered red.
"Identification: Unknown anomaly detected," it chirped mechanically. "Mana absence field confirmed. Broadcasting coordinates."
"Damn it" Jin lunged forward and grabbed a loose steel pipe, hurling it with every ounce of strength. The pipe smashed through the window, striking the drone. It cracked, sparked—then fizzled midair, falling dead.
The hum in the warehouse died instantly.
But it was too late.
If that drone had transmitted even one signal, they'd be here soon.
He grabbed his bag, the same one he'd carried since the academy — and ran.
Outside, the city was waking. Above the fog, distant skyships glimmered, Bureau insignias blazing on their hulls.
Jin kept to the alleys, cutting through backstreets and service tunnels. Each time he passed an active rune, a lightpost, a barrier node , it dimmed. He didn't mean to drain them, but his power reacted on instinct.
He wasn't in control. He was a storm that didn't know it was a storm.
Half an hour later, he reached the edge of the lower district, where the urban sprawl gave way to the cliffs overlooking the coast. The sea stretched endlessly, gray and restless. The horizon seemed to blur, like even the ocean couldn't hold its color near him.
He stood there, breath shallow.
There was nowhere left to run.
Behind him, the whine of an approaching skycraft grew louder. Wind whipped his hood back, exposing his face to the cold air.
He looked up.
A sleek black transport hovered above the cliff, Bureau insignia gleaming. From its side door, figures in armored robes descended on levitation platforms , each one armed, their aura visible even through the mist.
Jin's throat tightened. The air shimmered faintly where their magic gathered, forming containment sigils.
One of them spoke, voice amplified by a spell. "Jin Hyeon. You are charged with unauthorized manifestation of forbidden power and violation of Mana Code One. Surrender immediately."
Jin didn't move.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," another called. "You don't know what you're holding."
He almost laughed. "You think I want this?"
The lead mage hesitated. "Then let us help you. That energy, it's corrosive. It'll consume you if you keep using it."
Jin's pulse quickened. "Then why are your weapons drawn?"
The mage didn't answer.
Their runes ignited in unison.
A lattice of blue fire formed above them, descending in a cage meant to trap.
Jin flinched back, instinct screaming, and the world folded inward.
The runes cracked like ice underfoot. One by one, their lights went out, the structure collapsing into shards that dissolved before touching him.
The air distorted. The mages stumbled, their control breaking.
"Containment field's failing!" one shouted. "He's erasing the sigils"
Jin fell to his knees, clutching his head as the pressure built again, heavier than before. The void roared behind his eyes. It wasn't anger. It was hunger.
"No—stop!" he yelled. "I don't want to"
But the void didn't understand mercy.
The nearest mage's barrier shattered, his aura unraveling like dust in wind. The others scrambled back, shouting spells that fizzled to nothing. The skyship's runes dimmed, its engines sputtering.
A shockwave of silence tore through the cliffside.
When it cleared, the mages were gone. The air was still. The only sound left was the crashing sea below.
Jin staggered to his feet, every muscle shaking.
He looked around. There was no debris, no blood, no scorch marks, just absence. The world erased itself wherever his power touched.
He stared at his hands, voice breaking. "This isn't power. It's oblivion."
Wind tore across the cliff, cold and sharp. The Bureau ship above flickered once more, then retreated into the clouds.
He was alone again. Completely.
He dropped to his knees, exhausted, and let the rain fall over him.
Each droplet vanished before touching his skin.
He didn't cry. He couldn't. The void inside him had taken even that.
Somewhere deep within the silence, something whispered, soft, patient, eternal.
You can't run from nothing, Jin Hyeon.
You are it.
He lifted his head slowly, eyes glowing faintly violet in the gray dawn.
And for the first time, he stopped running.