Silence all around.
Morning had arrived, but Noah's room was still shrouded in half-light. His eyes fluttered open in a sleepy haze. He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep. A dull pressure throbbed in his head. He sat up in bed, but his body felt unusually heavy.
He couldn't recall anything from the previous night. From the kitchen, he heard some noise—someone was there. Noah stepped out of his room and headed toward the kitchen. There, he found his brother, Yan, preparing breakfast.
[They were both 26 years old. Though they lived like siblings, Yan was actually Noah's stepbrother. Yan's stepmother had died in an accident nine years ago. Since then, Noah and Yan had been living together. As for Yan's father—Yan had never known who he was, and his mother never spoke of him.]
Yan looked up and said,
"You're up? Why did you come home so late last night?"
Noah replied, "Had a bit too much work."
Yan handed him breakfast. As they ate, the news played on TV. It was reporting strange, terrifying sightings around the city—creatures that looked demonic. Yan chuckled and said, "Demons? As if those are real."
After finishing breakfast, he turned off the TV and left for work. Noah sat quietly for a while. No matter how hard he tried, the events of the previous night remained a blur. His mind was clouded, like a fog had settled inside. Suddenly, he noticed a mark on his hand—a burn-like scar, though it didn't hurt.
A memory flickered—an image of a car crash—but it wasn't clear. An uneasy feeling gnawed at him. Eventually, he too left for work.
Meanwhile, Yan was sitting in his office, attempting to focus, but his thoughts kept circling back to the morning news. "Demons… could they really exist?" he wondered. A strange unease stirred within him. He also couldn't stop thinking about Noah—there was something odd in his eyes that morning.
10 PM.
Yan was walking home from work. The streets were silent.
Suddenly, he felt like someone was following him. He kept looking back—nothing. Still, a quiet fear was growing inside him.
Then, dizziness. His vision blurred. And right before him, a terrifying figure emerged—a body made of smoke, blood-red eyes, and a twisted face.
Clearly, this was no human.
In a panic, Yan fled. He ran into an old, abandoned temple.
[But this was no ordinary ruin.It was an ancient site, nearly a thousand years old,where people once worshipped a mysterious god named Imurak. Imurak was no benevolent deity—he was known as The Boundary Keeper, a guardian between the real world and the realm of shadows. Through worship, people believed they could keep evil forces at bay.
But over time, Imurak's worship faded from memory. The temple was abandoned. Rumors spread—Imurak wasn't a god, but a sleeping entity, sealed beneath the temple. And if someone ever awakened him… the darkness would return.]
Yan entered the temple. The silence inside felt thick, like smoke. His eyes landed on a massive dragon painting on an old wall. Below it, a small passageway led downward.
Without thinking, Yan walked in.
But just then—a monstrous roar shattered the air behind him. The demon had followed him. Its claws were sharp, its eyes glowing red. The entire temple trembled from its fury.
It lunged at Yan. He shut his eyes in terror, his body paralyzed, breath caught in his throat.
And then…
The ring on his hand suddenly flared with light. Time itself seemed to stop. The demon's growl fell silent. Everything went still.
Slowly, Yan opened his eyes.
The demonic creature stood frozen—turned completely to stone.
He stared in disbelief. Nothing made sense.
"What's happening to me? What was that thing? Was it really a demon?"
He looked again at the dragon painting. Near it was a staircase leading deeper underground.
He stepped down. One step... two... twenty-five... forty...
After nearly a hundred steps, he reached a pitch-dark cavern beneath the earth.He couldn't even see his own hand. Still, something unseen kept pulling him forward.
Eventually, he found himself in front of a massive door. The same dragon was carved into it. As he approached, the door opened on its own.
Yan stepped inside.
In the center of the room—a man, bound in chains. Eyes closed, breathing deep. An odd serenity radiated from him.
Suddenly, the man's eyes opened. They gleamed with the cold, eternal light of a dragon.
Only one word escaped Yan's lips—
"Who are you?"
And then—Yan's eyes snapped open.
He sat up with a jolt. No temple. Just a hospital bed—white, clean, and real. Beside him sat Noah.
Noah smiled and said, "You're awake. Can you recognize me?"
Yan looked at him, dazed. "How… how did I get here?"
Noah calmly replied, "Someone found you unconscious on the street. They called me using your phone. I rushed you here."
Yan asked, "Who was it? The one who called you?"
Noah said, "An old man. He didn't say his name, but his voice was gentle… calm."
Yan paused.
"Noah… do you know about an ancient temple near my office?"
Noah furrowed his brow."What temple?"
"The old one," Yan said. "It looks ancient."
Noah looked surprised. "You mean the one that's been abandoned for years? I've heard it's always locked—no one can get in."
Yan's eyes widened. He could clearly remember entering it. The stairs. The man. Everything.
But… a locked door?
There was no lock.
Noah asked gently, "Why are you talking about that place? What happened there?"
Yan opened his mouth but said nothing.
His mind swirled with questions. Was it all a dream? Or had he stumbled upon a buried truth—an ancient secret calling from the dark?
Noah leaned forward and whispered, "Yan… what really happened? Tell me everything."
Yan, his voice trembling, replied, "My body… feels strange… I think I need some rest…"
He slowly closed his eyes.
Yan fell asleep again…