The basement was cold and silent, save for the soft hum of the flickering fluorescent light above. Han Dae Su sat on the threadbare mattress, staring blankly at the cracked wall opposite him. His body ached with a dull, persistent pain—the remnants of years lost to a prison he never deserved.
Outside, the world thrived without him. He scrolled through his phone, eyes heavy and dry, watching those same ten faces laughing, partying, living as if nothing had happened. They had stolen three years of his life, but they had also stolen everything else—his family, his future, and almost his will to live.
A picture caught his eye: the bullies standing shoulder to shoulder in front of a city club, their smiles wide and triumphant. One of them raised a bottle, spraying champagne like a victory banner. They were free. They were happy. And he was trapped in this forgotten tomb of concrete and shadows.
Dae Su's fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. The anger that had been buried deep inside began to surface—a slow-burning fire fueled by betrayal and loss.
The basement's thick walls seemed to close in tighter around him, but amidst the suffocating silence, something stirred. A voice—low and ancient—echoed in the back of his mind.
"I am Drenval. I am your fury. Your strength."
He shook his head, trying to dispel the whispers. "It's not real. It's just in my head."
But the voice did not fade. Instead, it grew stronger, weaving itself into his thoughts like a thread of shadow.
"You are not alone. I was betrayed like you. I will not let them escape."
The memories came unbidden—flashes of a thousand years past, a warrior's last breath, a vow sealed in blood and rage. Drenval's hatred was a mirror to his own.
Dae Su stood, pacing the small room. He punched the wall once, twice. The first impact jolted his arm, a surprising warmth spreading from his knuckles to his shoulder. The concrete cracked beneath his fist. His breath caught.
"What… is this?"
"Power born from pain. Revenge fueled by hatred."
He fell to his knees, mind racing, heart pounding. For a moment, he wondered if he was going insane. But the ache in his bones, the electric pulse beneath his skin—it was undeniable.
Days passed in a haze of exhaustion and torment. His only human contact was a weekly visit from his aunt, who lived across the ocean in the United States. She brought food, her voice trembling with sorrow.
"I'm so sorry, Dae Su. I wish I could do more… but I have my own life now," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes. "Your parents… they're gone. The bullies… they made sure of it."
Dae Su stared at her, numb. "No… it's not true. It can't be me. I didn't—"
"They said you tried to kill one of them," she whispered, voice cracking. "They cut your finger to frame you. The teacher believed them."
The weight of the betrayal crushed him anew.
At night, he would watch the bullies through his phone, their laughter like knives twisting in his gut. But instead of breaking him, the rage grew, harder and sharper.
One evening, after another endless scroll through their taunts, Dae Su stood and struck the wall with all his might. The impact sent a tremor through the room. Cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete.
His breath was ragged, body trembling. But beneath the pain, a cold fire flickered—the first sign that something was awakening inside.
"I am here," the voice whispered. "Together, we will burn the world that betrayed us."
Dae Su sank back onto the mattress, heart pounding. The basement, his prison, was no longer just a cage—it was a forge.
Outside, the bullies celebrated another night of freedom, unaware the shadow of their past was gathering strength in silence.
And deep inside, Han Dae Su felt the first stirrings of a power that would change everything.