The moonless night cast a dark, heavy shroud over the river, its waters flowing sluggishly beneath the bleak sky.
The surface shimmered with a faint, unnatural sheen—like a mirror reflecting the emptiness of the world.
Silence hung thick, broken only by the soft ripples of water and the distant whisper of the wind.
Shadows danced along the banks, merging with the darkness, giving the whole scene an ominous, almost suffocating atmosphere.
In front of In-Su, an glowing orb floated gently, shimmering with an ethereal light.
Inside it, he watched helplessly as Joy—Mysta—cried out in despair, her sobs echoing with raw devastation.
Her figure trembled, tears streaking down her face as she mourned what was lost.
The sight tore at In-Su's heart—his closest friend, his seatmate, the one who had been his savior and the funniest, most chill person he'd ever known—now broken, defeated by the very darkness that had consumed their world.
He sighed deeply, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he stared at the orb. Ji-Hoo was gone now—dead.
The boy who had once made everyone laugh, the one who had stood by him in every battle, the one who had shared his silent understanding, was lost forever.
It was hard to accept; impossible to believe that this was the same Ji-Hoo he had known and loved.
With a soft flick of his hand, the glowing orb vanished into thin air, leaving only the dark night behind.
In-Su's voice was barely a whisper, filled with anguish. "What am I thinking? Why should I do this? Ha-Joon now… he's so full of himself now. What's the matter with him?"
Behind him, crimson eyes flickered in the darkness—eyes that betrayed a tumult of guilt and despair.
He pulled out a sketchbook , his fingers trembling as he held it close.
A faint, sad smile touched his lips as he opened it, revealing small, delicate drawings—memories of better days, of moments, of hope.
"I'm also a witch no one knows," he whispered softly, tracing a line in the sketchbook. "I'm so good at keeping things to myself… hiding everything inside."
Then, softly, he whispered a spell, voice trembling with emotion.
"Take this sketchbook to Ha-Joon's room," he said quietly, his words laced with longing and pain. The air shimmered briefly as the book disappeared.
He looked at the river once more, frustration flickering in his crimson eyes.
Covering his face with his hand, he let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know… what to do… he wants to fight me? He's so stubborn…"
A sudden thought struck him, and he gazed at the dark, swirling waters beneath him. His heart clenched with doubt, and he whispered, "What if…?"
Without hesitation, he took a step forward and plunged into the river, drowning himself in its cold depths.
His eyes shuttered closed as he sank deeper, surrendering to the crushing darkness, his body going weightless.
But just as he was about to be swallowed by the abyss, a voice cut through the silence—calm, commanding.
"You know you can't die like that, right?"
In-Su's eyes snapped open But shuttered back close.
Fenrir—a towering, fierce creature—leapt into the water with effortless grace, grasping In-Su and dragging him out with ease.
Fenrir laid him gently on the riverbank, pressing a hand to his chest. In-Su's eyes fluttered open slowly, gasping for breath.
Fenrir sighed, sitting beside him, his tail flicking softly and ears folding back in concern. "You know you can't die, right?"
In-Su exhaled a long, weary breath, voice low. "But you could at least let me leave in that moment," he said bitterly.
Fenrir smirked, a hint of a teasing smile. "I could have, but you need to stay alive."
In-Su's voice was hollow as he responded, "I know what you're going to say—the battle. It's tomorrow. I'll be fine… I just…" his voice trailed off. "I'm not fine."
Fenrir's expression grew serious, his tail twitching. "Both of you are going to face a painful end. I just… I wish I could take it all away. I never wanted you to suffer like this."
In-Su looked away, voice trembling. "I've never leave in this world happily. I don't want to die like this, fighting and bleeding… but I don't have a choice anymore."
Fenrir's ears folded back, and he hesitated before speaking softly. "There's something you need to know. About your brother…"
In-Su's heart skipped a beat. "What? With my brother?" he asked, voice tense.
Fenrir looked away, voice strained. "He… sacrificed himself."
In-Su's eyes widened in disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Stop messing with me!"
Fenrir's voice was quiet, heavy with sorrow. "Everyone's been talking about Bolt. How he sacrificed himself. But… he didn't. In-Su did. Your Brother helped Bolt. He saved him."
In-Su stared, stunned. "What are you saying? Stop joking… stop making my life more miserable," he demanded, standing abruptly.
Fenrir reached out, holding his hand gently.
"It's true. Vespera wants you to kill Bolt because your brother sacrificed himself—for you, for all of us. For this world. Bolt did nothing. I won't say it he would tell you himself."
In-Su's breath hitched, tears brimming again. "No… that can't be… stop lying to me—"
Fenrir's voice softened, almost pleading. "It's the truth. And that's why we fight. Because we want to honor your brother's sacrifice. Because we want to end this nightmare. You're our only hope."
In-Su looked down, clutching his hands into fists. His voice was barely a whisper. "I… I don't know if I can…"
Fenrir's gaze was steady. "You have to. For your brother. For everyone who's lost everything. We need you."
In the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the darkened sky, In-Su's voice trembled with disbelief and anguish.
"What do you mean Bolt didn't sacrifice himself? Then how did he lose his memory? He used all the elements' power… and got drained," he protested, his fists clenched tightly, unwilling to accept the harsh truth.
Fenrir's expression was gentle but weighted with sorrow.
His voice was slow, deliberate, as he whispered "You can't hide the truth. The truth always comes out, no matter how long you keep it secret. It's only a matter of time."
In-Su sighed heavily, frustration and heartbreak etched into his features.
"Why…? Why didn't he tell anyone?" His voice was eager, desperate for answers, tears threatening to spill.
Fenrir shook his head softly, eyes shimmering with innocence and regret.
"He lost his memory. And as for now, I don't know why he didn't tell anyone. He's been hiding it all along," he murmured, voice almost a whisper, as if the words themselves pained him.
In-Su's fists clenched even tighter, his knuckles turning white. "He's been hiding the truth the whole time," he thought bitterly.
"He never sacrificed himself. I tried so hard to make him remember… and now I hear he never even meant to. I've been fighting for something that wasn't real.''
A wave of shattered hope washed over him. "I am shattered… so not happy to hear that," he thought, a deep ache settling in his chest.
Fenrir's voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, calm but firm.
"I am only your mentor. And I am almost retiring…" he said softly, almost as if warning him of the end of an era.
In-Su raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What? How old are you? Not a real human age—night age?" he asked, voice tinged with disbelief.
Fenrir chuckled quietly, a sound filled with a hint of age and wisdom. "I am A hundred and twenty years old," he replied calmly.
In-Su's eyes widened in shock. "So young and you're retiring?" he asked, struggling to grasp the truth.
Fenrir smiled faintly, a gentle crease at the corner of his lips. "What? I'm too old for this," he said with a shrug.
In-Su let out a short giggle—just a brief, genuine laugh that broke the heaviness in the air. The moment was fleeting, but it offered a small, fragile respite amid the turmoil.