Darkness.
Then light searing, golden, eternal.
Blue's body is weightless, suspended in a cosmic void. Stars streak past like fireflies, too fast to follow, their trails painting the darkness in flashes of white, violet, and electric blue. He doesn't fall so much as ripple through space faster than light, faster than thought, faster than memory.
His breath slows. His heartbeat almost stills.Then images begin to flicker, bleeding in like cracks of light beneath a door."Breathe deeper than the fear, son. Let the world move through you."
A voice...calm, aged, warm with wisdom.Grandfather!
Blue sees him: standing beneath the plum blossom tree, the wind stirring his gray beard, his eyes stern but gentle. He remembers how those gnarled hands would correct his form, guiding him through the basics of the Tang Clan's martial discipline. Those quiet mornings...bare feet on stone, the scent of incense, the rhythm of breath and movement. It was the first time Blue had ever felt grounded.
"Power without breath is chaos. Breath without purpose is waste. Remember that."
He remembers. He always remembered.
Then the vision fractures. The warmth of nostalgia fades.
*Fire. Screams. Claws.*
Murim...torn open by rifts. Monks and martial masters alike cut down by monsters from beyond understanding. Temples shattered like toys, rivers turned to blood, skies split with rips of shadow and lightning. The monsters had no name, no mercy. The land of Blue's ancestors was desecrated within days.
He watches the memory replay. Powerless. Helpless."You never saw it fall, Grandfather… Maybe that was a mercy."
But then...
*Another Flash. The Last One.*
A figure cloaked in obsidian armor, taller than any human, face hidden behind a twisted, horned helm. Its sword was unlike anything forged in Murim...jagged, humming with cursed energy. Blue remembers the moment that blade cleaved through his neck.
The pain. The cold. The silence.
That black figure...the one who ended his life. The one who looked down at his body as if he were nothing. As if he didn't matter. That thing is still alive. Still out there. And this time… I'm not going to die like a dog.
I want revenge.
That final thought is a roar, a primal surge of fury that swells inside him just as...
BOOM.
Blue hits the ground like a meteor, the earth cracking beneath his body. The impact shakes the ruined forest floor, a plume of dirt and debris exploding upward.
Everything is still.
The land around him is unrecognizable. Ash-covered. Broken. Dying. Trees are burnt stumps. The air smells of smoke and rot. The sky above is dark, like the sun has long since abandoned it.He lies there...unconscious, unmoving. Torn hoodie, blood trailing from his lip, breath shallow. Above him, the last flickers of golden light from the gate vanish into the air, leaving only silence and ruin.
Blue has returned to Murim, but it is not the home he remembers, and the man he was before? He died a long time ago.
"What the hell was that, I felt like I was being ripped apart. Those memories of my grandfather, the monsters attacking, the black figure that killed me. Why did these memories come rushing to me?"
Blue stands, staggering forward, desperate to understand where he is. His muscles screaming as if they'd been shredded. Sweat stung his eyes, mixing with the dirt smeared across his face. His hands trembled as he clutched handfuls of earth not just for strength. 'Get up, damn it,' he growled, ignoring the shouts of his body to fall.
"What is this place? I thought these gates led to peaceful worlds with life, but all I see is wasteland ." Trees are ripped to shreds, black as charcoal like they've been burned for 1000 years. In the distance he spots a faint trail of smoke floating up into the sky.
A faint plume of smoke curled against the bleak sky a sign of life, a fragile promise in this wasteland. As Blue staggered toward it, exhaustion clawed at his limbs. For a fleeting moment, hope flared...a tiny village, but as darkness threatened to claim him again, he barely managed a weary smile before his vision blurred and Blue fell unconscious hand stretched out as a last desperate attempt to reach it.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
A Few Days Later
Darkness. The faint pressure on his forehead...warm, damp, soothing. Blue's eyes opened, blurred, unable to make out the figures by the door and the faint sound of muted voices. The pain in his body screamed as if he'd been tortured, pinned down beneath heavy blankets and aching muscles. Every breath felt like fire crawling down his throat.
As he tried to move and sit up his body refused. His head throbbed to the rhythm of the distant voices he couldn't quite yet understand.
A woman's voice broke through his haze. "Relax, you're recovering, don't put our hard work to waste now."
The room was small, filled with the scent of herbs and wood burning. On the other side of the room, unfamiliar faces watched quietly...clam, but wary.
"You're safe." a deep commanding voice spoke up, we found you unconscious in the wasteland not to far from here. We brought you here to heal, so heal...we have questions too." He wanted to sit up and demand answers, but his body had betrayed him. Instead, he closed his eyes and let the quiet take him over...he was alive, but where is he? And who saved him?
The sun was low, casting long shadows across the path as Blue limped alongside two warriors. Every step sent jolts through his battered body, but he bit down on the pain. He had questions. So did they.
One of the men walking beside him, a wiry martial artist with calloused hands and a long, wrapped staff slung across his back, glanced over. "You said you came through a gate. What kind of gate brings someone through the wasteland half-dead and unconscious?"
Blue hesitated, only wanting to give them half truths until he got his own answers. "Honestly? I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. It just… pulled me in."
Another man...a younger one, maybe twenty, with a crest sewn into his robe furrowed his brow. "You're not from the outer clans. We'd know someone with your look. Where exactly did you come from?"
"I... came from a place called Earth," Blue said, cautiously. "It's hard to explain. I didn't expect to land somewhere like this. I thought I was going somewhere new."
The older man gave him a long look. "You're speaking our language perfectly, you know."
Blue blinked. He hadn't even realized it. The words had just come naturally. No hesitation. No translation in his head.
Then something else hit him, subtle things. The men's robes. The design of the leather straps holding their satchels. The way the herbal scent lingered in the air. The houses in the village behind them, wooden beams, slanted tiled roofs, open courtyards. The same construction style he'd walked past as a child, barefoot in the early morning mist.
And then he heard it.
"Once we get past the ridge, you'll see Chengdu," the younger man said. "The Tang Clan once watched over that city...though it's not what it once was. Now its where the Martial alliance resides."
Blue then came to a realization. The language. The homes. The style. The land.
His legs gave out, he dropped to his knees in the middle of the road, dust puffing up around him. Both men froze, turning sharply. Then came the sound...low at first, then piercing. A gasp breaking into a sob. Blue clenched his face, shoulders trembling as he broke utterly and completely.
"I'm home…" he choked, voice in tatters. " I'm really home…"
Memories flooded him all at once...his grandfather hand on his shoulder, the echo of laughter of his siblings running amok in the yard, his sister So-Yeon practicing what she had learned at the academy that day. Good memories overtaken by fire...screams...monsters...blood...and the black figure. The black figure that could still be walking these lands. The thing that put me in this predicament.
His fists clenched his face, filled with grief, anger, resentment all swallowing him like a tsunami of emotions.
The older martial artist took a step forward, concern and weariness flicker across his face. "What…?" The younger of the two stared in disbelief, whispering to the older. "Did he say...home?" They watched in silence as Blue wept...not out of weakness, but something more primal, from the deepest part of the soul. The part of a man who had lost everything...and just found the ghost of it still breathing.