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Darkness engulfed the entire room

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Darkness engulfed the entire room. The only source of light was the faint moonlight streaming in through a small, grimy window.

Silence reigned until a faint groan broke through, accompanied by the sound of shifting fabric. "Where am I?" Taesan mumbled, his voice groggy as he clutched his spinning head.

Minutes passed before he could gather his bearings. As his vision adjusted, he scanned his surroundings, but the dim, dusty room offered no clarity. If anything, it made his head spin more.

It was a suffocating, desolate space, devoid of life. He tried to stand but his legs gave out beneath him. Mustering whatever strength he had, he finally stood upright, wobbling towards the only door in sight.

“Is someone here?” he called, though his voice came out barely louder than a whisper.

His hands trembled as he reached for the doorknob. To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and stumbled out into a long, empty corridor.

He didn’t know where he was or where he was going—his mind could only process one thing: run.

“Stop right there,” a voice echoed, cold and authoritative, startling him.

Taesan froze. Slowly, he turned around, his gaze meeting that of a man standing a few feet away. The stranger’s face was etched with annoyance, his sharp eyes piercing through the darkness.

“Who are you? What am I doing here?” Taesan demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

The man sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. “You’re the third one to try escaping. I’m so done with this,” he muttered, more to himself than Taesan.

“What do you want from me?” Taesan asked, his fear bubbling up into anger.

“Let’s go, kid,” the man said nonchalantly, grabbing Taesan by the arm. His tone was dismissive, but his grip was firm.

Taesan struggled, but his body betrayed him. Exhaustion weighed him down, leaving him with no choice but to follow.

They stopped in front of another door, this one in worse shape than the last. The peeling wood and rusted hinges made it look more like a prison than a refuge.

Taesan braced himself, but instead of being thrown inside, he was gently pushed forward. He stumbled into the room, his eyes adjusting to the faint light filtering in.

“Sit,” the man instructed, pointing to a chair in the center of the room.

Still wary, Taesan obeyed, perching on the edge of the chair as the man sat across from him.

“Listen, kid. I’m not here to hurt you. Let’s just say… I have no intention of causing you harm,” the man began, his voice calm.

“What do you mean?” Taesan asked, confusion lacing his words.

“Let’s get you something to eat first. You’ve been here for days; you must be starving.”

“I’m not hungry,” Taesan snapped, rising abruptly. “Just let me go!”

The man sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Kid, don’t make things harder for yourself than they already are.”

“Why am I here?” Taesan demanded, his voice breaking. “If you don’t mean me any harm, then just let me leave!”

The man ignored his outburst, rising to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll bring some food. You need it.”

With that, he walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Taesan stood frozen for a moment, debating whether to make a run for it. But something about the man’s words—or perhaps his calm demeanor—stopped him. Curiosity gnawed at him.

The room was sparsely furnished. A broken desk sat in one corner, while a few faded paintings hung on the walls. Drawn by the faint light, Taesan wandered closer to the artwork.

His eyes fell on the first portrait, and he froze.

“No way…” he breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, “Yoon Ma-ri,” he whispered, the name slipping from his lips like a ghost.

“Ah, so you do know her,” the man’s voice broke the silence, startling Taesan. The stranger stood in the doorway, a bowl of rice in his hand.

Taesan turned, still in shock. “How do you know her?”

The man set the bowl on the desk and gestured for Taesan to sit. “She’s the reason you’re here”

Taesan’s knees buckled, and he sank into the chair. “She… she died that day,” he muttered, more to himself than the man.

“What if I told you she didn’t?” the man said, his tone unreadable as he picked up a spoonful of rice.

“What are you talking about?” Taesan stammered, his voice shaking.

“She’s still alive.”

The room spun again, and Taesan’s breath caught in his throat. “But that’s impossible…”

“I’ll tell you everything,” the man said, his voice low and measured. “You deserve to know the truth.”

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Finally, we got taesan's pov :3

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