Yang Mirae didn't rise as Seojin returned from the back room. The old fan spun through hot air above her head, creaking with each rotation. Soondae, the bat beast, huddled on her head like a crown, mostly asleep.
Seojin cleared his throat. Mirae grunted, shifted, then lazily reached behind the desk.
From a stack of pillows she pulled a folded jacket, black and lean but clearly grown out of by someone long ago. Seojin sat it on the desk.
"It was my last recruit's," she said, voice crackling. "He grew three inches overnight and swore he'd never fit it again. Ended up getting drafted eventually."
She squinted at Seojin. "You look like you could fit it plenty."
Seojin took the jacket gently, unfolding it. It was surprisingly light, lined inside with a thin layer of reinforced fabric. On the back, a faded white emblem—a wolf fang curled into a crescent. The sleeve had a sewn patch: Obsidian Fang: Fight With Teeth.
He slipped it on. It fit loosely but comfortably. The sleeves were slightly long, sleeves grazing his fingers. It felt… right.
"Wear it right," Mirae said, eyes half‑shut. "I don't need it back. Make it mean something again."
Seojin bowed slightly, feeling too awkward to fully express thanks.
"Good night," he said quietly.
"Survive till morning, kid," she replied without opening her eyes again.
Soondae grunted. Mirae jerked and mumbled something about "shut up" before drifting back asleep.
Seojin crept away, jacket fresh on his shoulders. As he backed toward the exit, he felt more grounded than he had in days.
The sidewalk underfoot felt empty now. Storefronts blinked shut. Neon signs flickered out. The city whispered in cooling tones of blue and silver.
Fenrir padded beside him in his smaller form. Silent and regal. The wind rustled, and the jacket flapped.
Seojin paused beneath a streetlamp node—reflections danced over the neck of the jacket. He held his hand up and the surface of a cafe window glowed with translucent windows: quest boards, logging info, and his personal System overlay.
He tapped the prompt to view his Skill Tree.
Three glowing base circles rotated slowly before him: Enhanced Strength, Enhanced Speed, Enhanced Durability.
Small root‑like patterns trailed beneath them, locked. He knew to unlock their evolution paths he needed to max one first.
He hovered over Speed. Would be nice to dash around like the wind, he said aloud.
Fenrir's voice came softly in his head: Speed for what? To run?
Seojin looked around. The plaza was quiet. The wind rustled through fallen leaves. Maybe, he admitted, but even if I'm not fast, at least I could be gone before they reach me.
The wolf didn't respond immediately. Your enemies will not wait for you to run fast, Fenrir finally said. They will strike even when you try to run. You must survive long enough to strike back.
Seojin squared his shoulders beneath the dim lamp. He closed his eyes and thought of every time he'd fallen during training — not failing to land a hit, but blasted to the ground because he couldn't take proper damage. He'd felt his body give out before his mind.
He opened his skill screen again and tapped Durability. All his upgrade points flashed into that circle. It pulsed and bloomed with light.
Within seconds, notifications blazed:
Enhanced Durability → Superhuman Durability (Rank E+)
Trait Tree Unlocked: Endurance Engine
Choose Branch Skill: Kinetic Conversion or Last Stand Protocol
A small preview window popped:
Kinetic Conversion: "Absorbed damage becomes internal force that can be released in a counterstrike."
Last Stand Protocol: "If HP drops below 30%, defenses and regeneration increase by 50% for 10 seconds."
He stared at the choices for a moment, breathing shallow, but closed the screen without picking. One step at a time. He didn't pick yet. His eyes burned with resolve.
He retracted the interface. The city remained steady, neon reflections dancing on the glass.
Fenrir padded on beside him quietly.
Seojin reached his block eventually, flicking off the jacket's reflection. The apartment building's lobby glowed faintly through tinted glass.
Before he could press the intercom, the door opened from inside.
His mom stood in the threshold, wearing her uniform top, purse slung over one shoulder. She blinked at him, tired and sharp.
"You're late," she said. "I told you to be in by—"
Then her eyes locked on Fenrir behind Seojin. She stopped. Her purse strap swayed as her hand came up to cover her mouth.
Her knees softened. Seojin felt the world hold breath for a moment.
"You… you formed a bond?" she whispered.
Seojin nodded quietly.
Tears shined in her eyes. Then her expression shifted from surprise to relief to joy. She hurled her purse aside and wrapped him in a fierce hug.
Seojin felt strength in her arms he hadn't tapped into in years.
"Mom," he said. "I'm fine."
"It's okay," she whispered. "You're home."
Fenrir shifted, calm but alert. Looking around warily as the hallway lights flickered.
From behind came a soft voice.
"Seojin?"
His sister, a few years older, stepped out of the living room wearing thick pajamas. She rubbed her eyes and froze when she saw Fenrir.
She stared at Seojin and burst out, "No way! He's real?"
When his mother let go of him, the sister took a hesitant step forward.
"Can I… can I see?"
Fenrir lowered his head slightly. Sister stared in awe, then grinned.
She elbowed Mom. "He's legit."
In the doorway behind them, family beasts stirred into view.
Mom's fox-like creature stepped forward—beautiful orange fur shimmering with ember‑like sparks in its eyes. Sister's beast, a rabbit‑cat hybrid with silver paws, let out a soft hum.
They all tried to check Fenrir out—proud family members showing off.
Fenrir let out a single deep growl, then released a low thread of aura. Like an invisible boundary line. Both family beasts retreated immediately and sat respectfully by their partners.
Seojin rubbed the back of his neck. "He's… a little territorial."
Mom smiled, brushing back hair gently. "So is mine. Must run in the family."
Sister giggled.
They all lingered in the hallway for a moment.
Seojin slipped off the jacket and hung it over a coat hook by the door.
As he unzipped the pockets, Mom's eyes drifted to the white emblem stitched into the fabric. Her expression stiffened.
"You got scouted?" she said quietly.
He looked at her, silent.
"Did they… force you?"
"Mom.."
"Its just that I know how forceful they can be..."
Seojin shook his head.
She rubbed her forehead. "If you ever need help…"
He swallowed. "I'm okay."
She pursed her lips, then rummaged for a second.
She moved away into the living room and returned carrying a sealed black case.
She closed the door behind her.
"I didn't think I'd give you this yet," she said softly.
Seojin stepped forward as she lifted the lid.
Inside was a weapon wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it gently—first the silken cover, then the velvet lining. Revealed a sleek longsword with a dark steel handle sculpted like a wolf's maw ready to bite. The blade was folded artfully, slender, balanced. The sheath had mirrored trim and etched runic lines along the spine.
He held it. The weight was surprising for such a slim weapon. It felt alive.
Mom watched him. Her eyes glistened.
"This was your father's," she whispered. "He was one of the originals that arose from the first rift. His code name was Wolfbane. He left it to you. He said… if you ever bonded… not until then. That day finally came."
Seojin's chest throbbed with something he hadn't felt in years: belonging.
He leaned forward and rested the sword against his shoulder, holding it in two hands. It responded to him—not with magic, but with resonance. The surface thrummed softly, alive beneath his grip.
He closed his eyes.
She placed her hand on his wrist.
"Be careful," she said. "But don't hold back."
He shut the blade slowly.
"Thanks, Mom."
They stood there for a few seconds. No words.
Night came in through the window as Seojin settled on his bed.
Jacket hung over the chair. Sword boxed on the nightstand. Fenrir curled on the rug. The air smelled of paper and dust and quiet expectation.
Fenrir's voice came inside his head once more. Calm.
"You've begun walking the edge of the world. Just don't fall."
Seojin stared at the ceiling.
If I fall, he thought to himself, I'll drag the world with me.
He closed his eyes.