Taebaek, Gangwon – Korea, Year 2024 (Spring) – Day 992

“ – Eun, Eunkyung, Park Eunkyung, wake up. Don’t scare me, please just open your eyes, Eunkyung,” A voice pleaded desperately somewhere in the void. You were in this place, a place so dark and yet somewhere in the continuous vast darkness, you found calm and peace. You embraced the murky gray-black that surrounded you, with occasional specks of light appearing behind your close lids.

Were you dead? Why were you able to hear voices calling out to you? But somehow, you were unable to label a name to that familiar voice. It seemed so distant but yet so near. Who was that calling you? Where were you? Were you dead? Why didn't you feel pain? A torrent of questions rushed at you as you flinched, feeling uneasy at the unanswered questions.

But it was comfortable, being wrapped by the darkness like a blanket, embracing you, comforting you. No pain, no injuries, no worries. There were no interferences from the painful world you had lived in. Here, you were safe, painless and alone. You were all alone, with no one beside you, and it was cold, so cold.

The coldness of the void had not bothered you until now, when it really hit you. It was bone-chillingly cold, one that caused you to shiver in your mind. It was so empty and starkingly peaceful that it scared you. The unease that you felt increased exponentially by the second. It was extremely serene and calm that it unnerved you. Were you dead? The warmness that previously enveloped you was replaced with coldness that caused you to shiver in fear.

You were afraid.

“Eun-ah, Eunkyung, my god, why are you so pale? Eunkyung!” A series of incessant and urgent slaps shook you from your unconscious state as you gasped for air, coughing relentlessly. Opening your eyes dazedly, you saw the outline of a person hunching over you, his palm blurrily next to your cheek as you reached a hand up weakly. Understanding your intention, he clutched it in his tightly, threading his fingers with yours as he let out a sigh of relief.

“Han ge?” You asked softly, feeling your head spin as blood rushed to your brain. Feeling woozy, you blinked your eyes a few times as you struggled to sit up, Reaching over, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, supporting you as you sat up, leaning your head on his shoulder heavily as you closed your eyes. Your head was throbbing and your vision still blurry, making it difficult to open your eyes.

“Are you alright?” A familiar and worry-filled voice called from the side as you looked up drowsily, staring into the recognizable chocolate brown eyes. Giving a small, almost unperceivable nod, you heard a soft sigh of relief as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, tightening his grip comfortingly.

“You really are blessed with many lives. Having survived 3 years ago, and now, simply unable to die,” the voice scoffed from beside you as you rolled your eyes, feeling a vein pop in your forehead out of annoyance. Forcing yourself to sit up with your own effort, you ignored Luhan’s protest as he rested his arm around your shoulders securely, keeping you upright.

“You’re pathetic, unable to kill a child twice. It’s not my blessing but your curse,” you retorted, your voice cracking slightly. You watched him raise a hand, ready to attack you as Yi-en shifted his body fluidly in front of you. Lifting his hand, he easily blocked his arm, grabbing his wrist with his palm as he swung it away forcefully.

“Don't you dare, you lowlife,” he seethed, moving closer to you, blocking you from the elder man’s sight as he glared at him with hatred and scorn in his eyes. It was rare to see such pure revulsion and disgust shining in Yi-en’s eyes that were usually filled with warm, love and comfort.

“You bastard son of Wu, did you really think your entry into the camp was unnoticed? We were merely waiting to see what your father had planned, and were even hoping to use you to get to him. You’re trash, utter trash,” he spat out as you watched Yi-en flinch slightly at his words. Yi-en hated being reminded of the fact that he was originally an illegitimate child. Although his mother was now the legal wife of Uncle Wu, he was still a bastard son when he was born. Every person had a flaw, and his illicit birth would be one that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Calm down Yi-en, don't let his words affect you,” you urged softly, knowing that he heard you as you watched his gripped fist loosen slightly. The man knew which words to say, the words that would deal the maximum amount of damage, words that irked him the most. Given Yi-en’s hot-tempered nature, it would be a piece of cake to anger him, for him to fire out the first punch.

“Luhan ge, where’s Jongin?” You asked under your breath, turning to the older boy who nodded his head slightly, murmuring to you that Baekhyun and Chanyeol had came to get him, and brought him back to the outside. Now all that was left was to get the three of you out safely, and the mission would be deemed a success. If you could get out that was.

“Aren’t you curious why some of you are here? You couldn't possibly have thought that the Holy Government had so much time to pick up random stupid orphans, other than the fact that your parents were traitors. Aren’t you dying with curiosity as to why that last boy was beaten up more badly than the rest? Why he was tortured and whipped?” He taunted, laughing at your confused expressions as you stared back at him blankly, the wheels in your mind turning wildly.

Yi-en had mentioned that you twelve were children of agents who made up the key parts of the Organization. In order to keep all of you in check, they had locked all of you together, to make it easier to control and observe all of you. But that didn't explain much about Kyungsoo. It had always bothered you, the reason behind Kyungsoo’s unusually harsh treatment. Arriving with such scars and cuts, made it seem that there was a clandestine elucidation, and the man’s words served as sufficient evidence.

“You have never seen these blades before, but I thought it would be nice to know the name of the blades that cut you down,” he mocked, urging his two guards forward as he took a small silver rod no longer than your arm in his hand. Running his fingers down its sides, he traced the carvings on the rod’s surface as he grinned a Cheshire smile.

“This is a weaker blade, a Lumos Blade, but a strong blade nonetheless. One swing of it, and it decapitates a grown man. This other blade is a Sanctus blade. Look and marvel at it, for only the chosen ones can receive the blessings of the Angels,” he declared, picking up the other which had a grip made of a worn pale gold, with intricate inscriptions lacing its sides. It was gorgeous, and seemed to murmur a silent power that only its owner knew the full extent of.

But one thing bothered you. How were those two rods blades? To you, it seemed like two pretty sticks covered in gold and silver, but there was nothing seemingly sharp or dangerous about them. In all honesty, it seemed weak and useless, and in no way a weapon capable of decapitating a grown man despite what the man had claimed.

“When the blade is named by the true owner, the blade is activated and the edge emerges. That is why a blade chooses its owner and not the other way round. It’s a spoil of war, since it once belonged to the Organisation. Both the Lumos and Sanctus Blades. But they modified it, and forced it to obey their new owners, against the will of the blade,” Yi-en whispered to the two of you, explaining further, as you nodded your head slightly, finally understanding what the man was talking about.

Just then, the man reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a similar rod, a brilliant gold with encrusted diamonds lining its grip. It was a small rod, a perfect size for a female’s grip. Smiling crookedly, he toyed with its grip, twirling it in his hand as you felt Luhan stiffen next to you, his hand grabbing your wrist harshly.

“Isn’t this gorgeous? It’s meant for a woman, hence having a smaller grip, and a more flashy design. It was a brilliant prize for taking out one of the Holy Government’s biggest traitor. I personally pried it out of the dead woman’s fingers, a spoil of battle like no other,” he said, his tone strangely mocking as you felt Luhan’s grip around your wrist tighten inexplicitly.

“That was my mother’s,” a small voice murmured angrily from your side, as you felt Luhan tremble next to you out of anger. Widening your eyes in shock, you glanced back at him, noting the tense rage that was building up in his face. Wriggling your wrist free of his grip, you slipped your hand into his, your thumb rubbing against the back of his hand soothingly.

After he had briefly mentioned his past to you, you had never asked him to elaborate, knowing that memories of that night still stirred up immense pain. Hearing such painful words from the man who murdered his parents did nothing but cause sorrow and grief. The same man who had ruined your life and taken away your family and future, had devastated so many, denying so many people of the happy futures they could have had.

“When I was killing your mother, she begged me to let you go, to not ki