The scent of instant coffee, weak and bitter, clung to the air of their small apartment, a futile attempt to mask the pervasive chill that had settled in Kim Hyu-Gi’s room. Kim Han-Yol watched her brother from the kitchen doorway, a mug clasped tightly in her hands. Days had bled into a week since the Gate vanished, since Hyu-Gi returned a ghost of himself. The silence in their home was a suffocating blanket, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator or the distant city sounds that somehow never quite penetrated the walls of Hyu-Gi’s self-imposed prison.
She remembered the slap, the sharp sting of her palm against his cheek, the even sharper sting of his vacant eyes. It had been an act of desperation, a plea for him to return to her, to himself. The guilt had gnawed at her ever since, a festering wound, but a necessary one, she told herself. He couldn't stay like this, a hollow shell haunted by images only he could see. The National Hunter Association’s subtle inquiries about the ‘unusual energy signature’ detected after the Gate's collapse, and the ‘undocumented item’ Hyu-Gi supposedly possessed, had only fueled her resolve. They hadn’t directly mentioned the Awakened Stone, but Han-Yol knew. It was a ticking clock.
“Hyu-Gi,” she said, her voice softer than she intended, yet firm enough to cut through the quiet. He didn’t stir. He sat on the floor by the window, knees drawn to his chest, staring at the gray sky as if searching for something lost beyond the clouds. His clothes were rumpled, his hair unkempt, a stark contrast to the meticulous young man he once was.
She walked over, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. The mug of coffee, now lukewarm, was placed on his small, cluttered desk. “We’re going out today,” she stated, not asking. She crouched beside him, her hand hovering over his shoulder before settling gently, a feather-light touch. “To the Association. We’re going to try and use that stone.”
A flicker. A barely perceptible stiffening of his shoulders. His head remained bowed, but Han-Yol sensed a shift, a slight tremor in the air around him. It was a reaction, however minimal, and she clung to it like a lifeline.
“Kang Hwok gave it to you for a reason,” she continued, her voice low, almost a whisper. She carefully chose her words, knowing the name itself was a raw nerve. “He believed it could help you. To awaken. To… to do something.” She didn't dare say ‘save them’. The weight of that unspoken expectation was already crushing enough.
Minutes crawled by. The only sound was the distant drone of traffic. Then, a raspy, almost unheard whisper from Hyu-Gi. “No point.”
Han-Yol’s heart ached, but her resolve didn’t waver. “There is a point,” she insisted, tightening her grip on his shoulder. “There’s always a point. You can’t just… exist like this. Don’t you think he’d want you to try?” She watched his profile, hoping for a sign. A tear traced a path down his cheek, an isolated, silver track on his pale skin.
“Get up, Hyu-Gi,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument this time. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She stood, pulling him gently, but with undeniable force. He resisted for a moment, his body heavy, but then, surprisingly, he slowly began to comply. It was a mechanical motion, devoid of his usual grace, but it was movement.
Getting him dressed was like tending to a child. Han-Yol had to guide his arms into sleeves, button his shirt, and even tie his shoelaces. Each action felt like a small victory, a tiny chip in the wall he had built around himself. She retrieved the Awakened Stone from its hiding place in his desk drawer. It pulsed faintly, a dull, reddish glow beneath the surface, a silent testament to its otherworldly origin.
---
The subway was a blur of noise and faces. Hyu-Gi sat hunched, staring at his reflection in the darkened window, a haunted visage amidst the indifferent crowd. Han-Yol sat beside him, her presence a silent shield against the intrusive world. He felt the stone, cool and heavy, resting in the inner pocket of his jacket. Its presence was a constant reminder, a burden more than a comfort.
*The Gate. The roaring energy. Kang Hwok’s eyes, firm and resolute. “Awaken, Hyu-Gi. Find a way.” The scroll activating. The wrenching sensation. Then, nothing. Just silence and an empty sky.*
The memory played on a loop, a broken film reel in his mind. Guilt was a physical weight in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He was an F-Class Hunter, a nobody. What good could he possibly do? Kang Hwok, despite their past, had saved him. Why? He couldn’t shake the image of Kang Hwok’s face, not his high school bully’s sneer, but a face etched with a desperate, selfless hope. That hope was what Han-Yol clung to, what she was trying to rekindle in him, but it felt like trying to light a match in a hurricane.
The National Hunter Association building loomed, a monolithic structure of reinforced concrete and tinted glass, stark against the clear autumn sky. It radiated a cold, functional power that made Hyu-Gi’s skin prickle. Hunters, their auras ranging from faint shimmers to powerful, undeniable presences, moved in and out of the grand entrance, their steps purposeful, their gazes sharp. He felt like an imposter, a shadow in a world of light.
Inside, the building was a hive of controlled activity. Holographic displays floated in the air, showing Gate activity, Hunter rankings, and public service announcements. The air hummed with latent magical energy, a subtle pressure that made his head ache. Han-Yol, though clearly intimidated by the sheer scale and power of the place, walked with a determined stride, pulling Hyu-Gi along by the arm.
They approached the 'Awakening & Registration' desk, a sleek, minimalist station manned by a young woman with a polite, practiced smile. “Good morning. How can I help you?” she asked, her eyes briefly scanning Hyu-Gi, noting his F-Class identification tag, then lingering a moment longer on Han-Yol, sensing her anxiety.
“My brother… he needs to attempt an awakening,” Han-Yol began, her voice a little shaky, but she forced herself to sound confident. “He has an Awakened Stone.” She reached into Hyu-Gi’s jacket, retrieving the stone. Its faint crimson pulse intensified slightly as it was exposed to the vibrant energy of the Association hall.
The clerk’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she took in the stone. Her polite smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “An Awakened Stone?” she repeated, her tone now laced with a professional curiosity. “May I see it, please?” She extended a gloved hand. Han-Yol placed the stone into it. The clerk’s fingers brushed the surface, and a small, almost undetectable ripple of energy emanated from her. Her expression turned serious.
“This… this is quite a potent artifact,” the clerk stated, her gaze now fixed on Hyu-Gi. “How did you come across such an item?”
Han-Yol quickly interjected, “It was acquired during a recent C-Class Gate raid with his guild. An unusual find.” She carefully omitted the part about the Gate mutating and vanishing. They hadn’t reported that detail to the Association, hoping to avoid further complications while Hyu-Gi was in his catatonic state.
The clerk’s gaze sharpened, a hint of suspicion entering her eyes. She clearly detected the partial truth. “Understood. This will require a Level 3 assessment before the awakening procedure can be scheduled. Please take a seat in waiting area B. Someone will call your name shortly.” She handed them a small, plastic card with a number printed on it. “This way, please.”
They found seats in the designated area, a sterile space populated by other individuals waiting for various procedures. Some looked hopeful, some anxious, others bored. Hyu-Gi felt a tremor of something akin to fear, mixed with a strange, nascent hope. He looked at the card in his hand, then at the Awakened Stone, which the clerk had returned to Han-Yol, who now held it securely. This was it. The moment of truth. Either this stone, Kang Hwok’s final gift, would change everything, or it would confirm his utter uselessness, cementing his despair.
His sister squeezed his hand. Her touch was a warm anchor in the icy grip of his dread. He closed his eyes, bracing himself, as a voice crackled over the intercom, calling a name that wasn't theirs. The wait began.