During a peaceful afternoon. In a quiet, drowsy lecture hall, only the soft sound of a brush stroking a white canvas could be heard. Warm sunlight poured through the windows, flooding the classroom. With his back to that sunlight, Sung Suho expertly moved his brush, applying color to the canvas. The theme of today's class was written in large letters on the blackboard.
'Our Hero.'
As the lecture began, every student in the studio, without a moment's hesitation, started to draw the same face. That face was 'Sung Jinwoo.' Sung Suho's father.
"As expected… student Sung Suho's work has a different depth."
Suddenly, the supervising professor came up behind Suho and expressed his admiration.
"The human aspect and inner turmoil that can only be expressed by a son who has watched the great hero from the closest distance… Ah, magnificent."
The professor nodded his head, seemingly moved by something on his own. At his surprising reaction, Suho felt a little embarrassed. It wasn't about humanity or turmoil, or anything of the sort. He had simply painted his father sleeping on the sofa, wearing his usual old hoodie.
"…Thank you for seeing it in a good light."
The professor gave a thumbs-up, grinned, and turned away.
"I'm always cheering for you, student Sung Suho!"
Watching his back, Suho briefly scratched his head.
'I should be used to it by now…'
The professors' excessive interest was burdensome. But what could he do? It was all thanks to having a famous father.
"…"
Suho suddenly turned his head and looked out the sunlit window. Then, far in the distance… A single, giant, brilliantly shining statue soared high as if to pierce the sky. The name of that statue was 'Our Hero.' It was the statue of the 'Shadow Monarch, Sung Jinwoo,' erected like a landmark in every large and small city around the world, the same one every student in the studio was currently drawing.
"…"
* * *
Two years ago. The Cataclysm suddenly struck Earth.
On that day of despair, Suho's father, Sung Jinwoo, saved humanity. He single-handedly conquered dozens of S-rank Gates. He led his Shadow Legion, fending off the disasters that befell the entire globe. Thanks to him, the world, which had fallen into chaos, was able to quickly find stability. And peace once again came to Earth.
After that, to all of humanity living on Earth, Sung Jinwoo's status was no different from that of a living god. The people of the world revered him. Respected him. Praised him. And the son of such a great figure, a worldwide hero, was none other than…
'Sung Suho.'
Thanks to that, people's expectations for Suho were sky-high.
"Surely Sung Suho inherited his father's power, right?"
People had no doubt that Sung Suho, too, would have inherited his father's talent and awakened to immense power. But surprisingly…
His mana measurement result was '0'. He was an exceedingly ordinary person. A complete non-Awakened. The disappointment lasted only a moment. People soon came to accept it. No, they embraced Suho even more fervently.
"Oh! It can happen!"
"It's actually for the better!"
"Our Suho, just grow up healthy!"
"Right! Leave world peace to your dad, it's much happier for our Suho to live an ordinary life in a safe place!"
"Of course! His dad is Hunter Sung Jinwoo anyway! Why does the son need to face the dangers of becoming a Hunter too!"
It seemed there were truly many kind people in this world. At the fact that Suho was a non-Awakened, people were not disappointed, instead, they were worried. Worried that Suho might feel some sense of deprivation because of their undue expectations. They were even worried that their very words of comfort might leave a scar on Suho's heart.
So people, saying it was actually for the better, blessed and cheered for Suho's future as an ordinary person. Sincerely, with all their hearts. And in reality, they weren't exactly wrong. Since the absolute sun named Sung Jinwoo was illuminating the world anyway, his son was fully entitled to enjoy a peaceful life under his father's brilliant shadow…
Drip.
Just then. From the tip of the brush of Suho, who was lost in thought while painting, a single drop of black paint fell to the floor with a thud.
"…"
Instantly, all the noise in the classroom ceased, as if by a lie. The students who were painting. The students who were chatting. Even the students who were dozing off. Every gaze in the classroom was fixed on the small dot Suho had dropped on the floor.
Silence.
At the end of that stillness, where not even a breath could be heard, the next moment…
Rustle.
All the students in their seats rose in unison, beginning to move in perfect order, as if a single entity. One silently pulled out a tissue and ran over. Another brought wet wipes. Someone else came with a small dustpan. The faces of people gathering towards Suho all wore the same expression. A bright, radiant smile. And simultaneously, somewhat empty eyes.
"No, I can clean…"
"No. Our Suho, just rest."
"We'll wipe it."
"We'll wipe it."
"We'll wipe it."
"We'll wipe it."
Suho waved his hand, saying it was fine, but the students began to obsessively erase the small stain on the floor that Suho had made. All the while, their faces were still filled with smiles, full of pure goodwill.
"Hunter Sung Jinwoo saved us, so we must repay him like this!"
"Suho, did any get on your clothes?"
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Excessive kindness. It was closer to madness.
"All clean!"
Finally, as the black paint Suho had dropped vanished without a trace, the students instantly returned to their seats. And as if nothing had happened, in a drowsy and peaceful atmosphere…
Scratch, scratch.
Swish, swish.
They picked up their pencils and brushes again and began to draw 'Our Hero.' The face of Suho's father, Sung Jinwoo.
"…"
Staring blankly at the scene, Suho silently turned his head. And he looked out the window again.
Looking at it this way, the world outside was no different…
A spotlessly clear sky. A dazzling sun. And beneath it, a giant, brilliantly shining statue. Under the dazzling blessing of Sung Jinwoo, people walked the streets with gentle smiles. The roads were spotless, without a single piece of trash. Everything was perfect and peaceful. If a new Gate were to suddenly appear somewhere, the Shadow Legion would instantly appear and take care of the magical beasts. Then, as if nothing had happened, people would be able to live their peaceful daily lives again.
All this was a miracle possible because of the great hero, the Shadow Monarch Sung Jinwoo. Because he was here, this world was perfect. Peaceful. For all time. Eternally. But why…
This world reflected in Suho's eyes seemed like a poorly constructed stage play. No, was it the opposite? It seemed like a single painting, drawn too perfectly.
"Suho."
After class, the department's teaching assistant came to find him personally.
"I just heard from the professor, he said you're the top of the class this semester."
"I am?"
"Yes. So a scholarship will be issued in your name soon, but I came to confirm if your account number is correct before that. Is this account correct?"
The department TA showed Suho the account number registered in the TA office and asked.
"…Yes, that's correct."
Suho nodded.
"Alright, I understand. Congratulations in advance on receiving the scholarship. Now, everyone, a round of applause for Suho!"
– Waaah—!
– Suho, congratulations!
– I liked your painting the best too!
– I knew you'd be the top of the class, Suho!
At the TA's words, everyone in the classroom rose in unison and applauded. Sincere congratulations and cheers poured down on Suho.
Clap clap clap clap clap—!
Amidst that thunderous applause, Suho called out to the department TA, who had finished his business and was about to return to the office.
"Teaching Assistant…?"
At those words, the TA stopped and turned his head to look at Suho. With a bright expression.
"Yes, what is it, Suho?"
"Is my painting really good enough to receive a scholarship?"
"Phew, so humble. Of course! Can't you see everyone acknowledges it? Your paintings are always the best!"
At Suho's humble appearance, the TA grinned and gave a thumbs-up.
But…
"…Always?"
Right now, Suho wasn't being humble.
"TA Lim. No, Mr. Dogyoon"
Instantly, as his name came out of Suho's mouth, the brightly smiling face of Lim Dogyoon faltered. And Suho's cool gaze stared intently at that expression.
"You saw it all, didn't you? All the paintings I made since I was a freshman…"
Right at that moment, a familiar voice flashed through Suho's memory.
– Are you that fond of ants?
"…They were only ants."
…!
That was the beginning. In Suho's mind, all the memories that had blurred like a dream…
Flutter flutter flutter—
…began to flash by like a panorama. Those memories were similar to now, yet completely different.
Sung Suho of Hankuk University's Painting Department. And Lim Dogyoon, facing Suho just like now. Beyond that memory, he was looking at Suho, and at the ant paintings packed tightly on one wall of the exhibition hall, with a disgusted expression.
– If we gathered all the ants you've drawn since you were a freshman, it would fill a truck. Why didn't you go to the Department of Entomology instead of Art?
[Hankuk University Painting Department Assignment Exhibition]
[3rd Year Sung Suho]
Oil paintings, watercolors, and all sorts of sketches. The types were diverse, and the appearances of the ants drawn were also varied. Sung Suho, a 3rd-year painting major who had made all these by himself, chuckled and said.
– I thought about it, but there was no separate ant specialization.
– Not insects, only ants?
– Yes. Strangely, I've liked ants since I was young. When I found a line of ants, I would walk carefully so as not to step on them by mistake…
– You liked them since you were young? Your taste is certainly consistent.
Lim Dogyoon chuckled and continued to look around at Suho's paintings. Then, he stopped… He stopped walking and stared intently at one particular depiction, saying.
–This ant looks a little different?
Before him was a humanoid ant painted with blazing black energy. And then…
Pop—
[…Kieee…!]
Something suppressed within Suho began to burst. He opened his mouth again towards Lim Dogyoon standing before him. Now, not with honorifics, but in a cool and emotionless tone.
"You don't know why I came to art school, do you?"
"…"
At those words, Lim Dogyoon didn't offer any response. Like a broken doll, he stood still. But regardless, Suho just told his story.
"Do you know? I didn't actually go to art school because I liked painting. I was instinctively tracing the memories Dad sealed, and before I knew it, I was just drawing."
Pop! Pop!
And just like then, sealed memories spring forth.
"Just like right now."
[…Mas…ter…!]
The numerous memories suppressed by the 'law' began to run wild inside Suho.
[…Young Mas…ter…!]
"So shall we stop here?"
Everything became clear, beginning to awaken.
"I'm a bit too busy to play along with this illusion."
Suddenly, the classroom fell silent. At some point, all the students in the classroom had stopped their brushes and turned their heads to look at Suho. Expressionlessly.
"This world is fake?"
"This world is an illusion?"
"This happy world?"
"This perfect world?"
And the students began to speak to Suho one by one. In the same tone. With the same expression.
"This world is real."
"This world is real."
Their voices began to overlap. The students rose in unison, spread their arms wide, and began to shout. As if a single entity. With perfectly synchronized movements. Like fanatics, they began to praise in loud voices. The name of the great god who created them.
"Itarim is the Creator!"
"An absolute and great god who creates worlds!"
"Our great and radiant god!"
"The true utopia he created for us is right here!"
Their hymns filled the entire classroom.
"Only here is real!"
"Here, your memories are fake!"
"Your delusion!"
Amidst it all.
[You foolish creature.]
At some point, 'Lim Dogyoon's' lips stretched into a long slit, forming a heinous smile towards Suho.
[Do your eyes truly see all this as a mere illusion?]
Simultaneously, his face began to melt, transforming into another person. Into the face of Suho's father, Sung Jinwoo. Becoming the same appearance as the giant statue, 'Our Hero,' visible outside the window. He extended both hands towards Suho. With an extremely reverent and radiant halo shining from outside the window.
[Rejoice and be thankful to me. I have granted the wish you so desired.]
As if in response, the same voices echoed from outside the window. All the people on the street. All the voices of the world.
"Worship the god!"
"Praise the god!"
"The world for Sung Jinwoo you so desired!"
"A world where Sung Jinwoo, the Shadow Monarch, is the protagonist!"
"Where everyone praises and respects your father!"
"A world that worships Sung Jinwoo as a god!"
"And here, Sung Suho is…!"
[Nothing.]
With that decisive word, Itarim sneered at Suho. No, the entire world was sneering at Suho.
[In this world, you are merely a powerless human who just happened to have a great father.]
At Itarim's definitive statement, Suho finally realized. No matter how much his memories returned, nothing would change.
"Suho, in this place, you are a non-Awakened."
"Without a single drop of mana."
"Unable to use any skill, any authority."
"Shadow Power? Do you think there is a shadow for you in this world?"
"Shadow Soldiers? All of them are shadows that follow your father."
The entire world surrounded Suho and mocked him. All of them were fanatics created by Itarim, who followed Itarim.
"…I see."
Suho silently nodded. He realized that their words were not simple deception.
"Indeed, a god is a god. Not some illusionary trick, but to actually create a world."
Suho finally realized. The essence of the Outer God Itarim he was facing. Itarim was a creator god. He was an existence that didn't engage in crude fights like the Apostles of Annihilation created for battle. If he wanted a fight, he could create a weapon. If he wanted a conversation, he could create fanatics to speak for him, like this.
Therefore… Itarim, just before his death, towards the enemies who had invaded his stronghold to kill him, had simply used the power he was most confident in. That was not physical force, but creation.
"Yes, though a bit exaggerated, you certainly granted my 'wish'."
Grin—
At Suho's calm words, reviewing his own state, Itarim smiled with satisfaction. It was technically true. Itarim had genuinely granted Suho's wish. However, the reason the result was somewhat grotesque and alien was because Itarim was an absolute god who didn't understand the 'human heart.' That didn't mean this world was fake. This place was…
A real world created by a god. A prison to completely neutralize 'Sung Suho,' who had invaded his stronghold to murder him. Minor errors could simply be corrected. Then it would become an even more perfect world and satisfy Suho.
"So to speak, I'm completely devoured by this world you created."
At Suho, finally facing reality and calmly assessing his own state, Itarim smiled with satisfaction.
Zap.
"Kuk."
Simultaneously, a sudden headache came.
Rustle, rustle.
Rustle, rustle.
Though he was acting composed, the true memories he had barely awakened were being gnawed away again by the 'law' created by Itarim. At this rate, he would surely become an ordinary university student living in this 'perfect and peaceful' world again…
"Suho, are you alright?"
Flinch.
At the gentle voice, Suho suddenly blinked his eyes and looked ahead. His father, Sung Jinwoo, was looking at him with concern.
"…Father?"
This is bad. The law of this world was already eating away at him.
But. There was no way. He was currently an ordinary person with no mana. And this was a world where neither his companions nor his Shadow Soldiers existed. And as long as the Shadow Monarch Sung Jinwoo reigned as the absolute god in this land, 'Sung Suho,' who was merely his ordinary son, could not use the Shadow Power. No matter how he racked his brain, there was no way to escape from here.
"Suho, you've been overworking yourself lately. If you're tired, you should take a nap"
At some point, his 'mother' had appeared, looking at her only son with a worried expression. No, everyone in the classroom was surrounding Sung Suho, worried.
But…
"…Yes, magnificent. As expected of a god."
Amidst his blurring consciousness, Suho twisted his lips and straightened his mind. And then, he looked straight at the father before him, no, at 'Itarim', and spoke.
"Certainly… I have no power right now. You even managed to erase my shadow."
Truly thorough and obsessive. Surprisingly, beneath Suho's feet now, the shadow that everyone else had did not exist. Without even a shadow, it was impossible to summon Shadow Soldiers no matter what he did. Itarim had erased all the power Suho could exert in this world.
But. Was that really the case?
"Still, there is just one thing left."
Suho pressed his throbbing brow to hold onto his rapidly blurring consciousness and forced himself to glare at Itarim. And he continued, smiling faintly.
"…The last card I can play."
[Your bluffing is impressive.]
There was no emotion in Itarim's voice as it replied to Suho. What couldn't one say with words? In a few seconds anyway, Suho would return to living his ordinary university life. In the prison he had created, the 'Stage of the Lonely God.'
Eternally.
And if that happened…
"Suho, be happy."
"Suho, rest well."
"Suho, and when you fall asleep…"
All the students in the classroom spoke to Suho. Smiling brightly.
"All the power you have."
"Our great god Itarim will use it for you!"
"Sung Suho! You will now become an apostle of Itarim!"
"For Itarim!"
"For Itarim!"
The chorus of the fanatics gnawed away at Suho's consciousness even more.
But…
"…"
Even at this moment, Suho was silent. He silently strove to find the darkness slumbering within him. And he finally did.
"…Found it."
It was the last card he could play now, with all his power sealed. The last darkness he had never once used. None other than the last piece of Nidhogg. The 'masterless Primordial Darkness' he had recently torn out.
Suho smiled faintly and finally called its name.
"Awaken, Kandiaru."