The ruins of the Western Wall were silent. Yun stepped cautiously over broken stones and splintered wood, the eerie quiet pressing against his ears. He had returned alone, drawn by the strange pulse he'd felt the night before—a rhythm like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
This place had once been his post. He knew every crack in the wall, every creak of the old wooden gate, and every shift in the wind. But now it was different. It felt… haunted.
As he passed the crumbling archway, he heard it—whispers. Faint, hollow voices echoing around him. He stopped. Listened.
"…failed…"
"…burned…"
"…guardian…"
His grip tightened on his blade. These weren't just echoes—they were the voices of the fallen. The comrades he couldn't save.
Suddenly, the wind shifted. A low growl rolled through the ruins. Yun turned sharply, instincts kicking in. From the shadows, a black mist began to pool, seeping from the broken ground. It twisted into a monstrous form—part wolf, part shadow, with glowing crimson eyes.
A Wraith Beast.
"How did you cross the barrier?" Yun muttered, stepping back, his blade humming faintly.
The creature didn't answer. It lunged.
Yun ducked, slashing upward. The blade cut through its body, but it wasn't solid. The beast dissipated into smoke, then reformed behind him.
It swiped—Yun staggered, blood staining his sleeve. He gritted his teeth.
"Figures," he spat. "You're not just any wraith."
Drawing a small vial from his coat, Yun uncorked it with his teeth and poured the glowing blue liquid along the edge of his blade. It shimmered, reacting violently with the metal.
When the beast lunged again, Yun slashed—this time the blade struck true, and the beast howled, part of its body burning away.
Yun didn't stop. His strikes were precise, fueled by grief and fury. Each movement was a memory: of comrades lost, of laughter silenced, of a gate no one cared about until it was too late.
The battle dragged on. The beast was fast, unpredictable, but Yun had fought worse—and won.
With a final cry, he drove the blade through its heart. The Wraith Beast shrieked and burst into smoke, leaving only silence behind.
Yun collapsed to one knee, panting.
Then he heard it.
Clapping.
Slow. Mocking.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Hooded, with a silver mask covering half his face. The same figure Yun had seen during the siege—the one who had commanded the attackers.
"So," the masked man said, voice smooth. "The Gatekeeper lives."
Yun rose, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You again."
The masked man tilted his head. "You're more persistent than I expected. Perhaps… dangerous."
"You don't even know what dangerous looks like," Yun replied coldly.
The man chuckled. "I look forward to finding out."
He vanished in a blink, leaving Yun alone in the ruins, fists clenched and mind spinning.
Whatever this was… it was only the beginning.