(1st POV)
Okay, this is officially the weirdest night of my life. And that's saying something, considering I once walked in on a raccoon breakdancing in our trash can. But now? Now I'm being dragged through dimly lit alleys by my mom while some silver-haired villain guy and his friends play tag with us. Except, instead of a friendly "Tag, you're it," it's more like "Tag, you're about to find out what flying feels like."
"Seo, faster," Mom hisses, and I can feel her fingers tightening around my wrist. She's pulling me along like she thinks I'll stop to tie my shoelaces or something. Spoiler: I won't. I might trip on them, sure, but that's tomorrow's problem—assuming we make it to tomorrow.
My mind's racing as we dodge around garbage cans and jump over puddles. The whole time, I can't stop glancing back over my shoulder. Silver-Hair—or Xin Sheng, I guess—is nowhere in sight, but I swear I hear footsteps echoing off the walls. Either that, or my heartbeat's learned how to play drums.
[Host's stress levels rising. Calm advised.]
Oh, yeah, thanks, system. Let me just stop and meditate for a bit. Maybe do some yoga poses while I'm at it. I'm sure the mysterious strangers trying to kidnap me will appreciate the mindfulness break.
"Mom," I pant, "who *are* these people? And why do they know my name? Did you sign me up for a reality show without telling me?"
Mom doesn't answer right away. She's laser-focused, eyes darting ahead to the alley's exit. Finally, she spares me a glance, and for the first time tonight, I see something in her eyes that makes my stomach drop: fear.
"I'll explain everything when we're safe," she says. "Right now, you just need to trust me."
Trust her? Of course I trust her. She's my mom. The one who makes the best kimchi stew and never misses a chance to embarrass me in front of my friends. But seeing her scared? That's new. And I'm not sure I like this version of reality.
Before I can process any more of my swirling thoughts, we burst out of the alley and into a deserted street. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows that stretch out like skeletal fingers. Great. Just what I need—creepy atmosphere points.
"There!" a voice shouts behind us. I don't even need to look. I know it's them.
Mom's grip on me tightens, and we bolt across the street. My legs are burning, and my lungs feel like they're made of fire, but I push on. I'd like to say it's because I'm brave and heroic, but honestly? I'm terrified.
"Left!" Mom commands, and we veer into another alley, this one narrower and littered with cardboard boxes. One of them smacks me in the face as I run past, and I'm pretty sure I hear a cat yowl in protest. Sorry, Mr. Whiskers, we're all having a rough night.
Suddenly, the system's voice rings out again, louder this time.
[Proximity alert: High-level energy signature detected.]
"Oh, come on," I mutter, just as another figure steps out from the shadows ahead of us. This one isn't silver-haired. Nope. He's dressed in flowing robes, holding a staff that practically screams 'I'm important and mysterious.'
"Seo Kwan," the man says, his voice deep and weirdly calm, like we're meeting for a coffee date instead of a midnight showdown. "You're out of time."
I don't even get a chance to make a snarky comment before Mom steps in front of me, shielding me with her body. Again. I'm starting to sense a theme here.
"Back off," she snaps. "We're not going with you."
The man tilts his head, like he's genuinely curious. "You don't understand. This isn't optional."
The air crackles around us, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Whatever he's about to do, I'm pretty sure it's not going to be a magic trick with doves and card decks.
"Mom," I say, my voice shaking. "Maybe we should—"
"Stay behind me," she commands, and there's that tone again—the one that says I'd better not argue.
Before I can blink, she raises her hand and mutters something under her breath. A soft, blue light shimmers around her fingers, and for a second, I'm too stunned to move. Since when does Mom know magic? Is this one of those family secrets, like my weird uncle who only eats spaghetti for breakfast?
"Impressive," the man with the staff says, sounding almost amused. "But not enough."
I have about half a second to wonder what he means before everything erupts in a blaze of light and sound. The world tilts, and suddenly, I'm airborne—weightless, spinning. All I can hear is the whoosh of wind and my own panicked scream.
Then, darkness.
When I come to, I'm lying on my back, staring up at the night sky. The stars look weirdly peaceful, considering my life just turned into an action movie.
"Seo," a voice says, distant but familiar. Mom.
I sit up, head throbbing, to find her crouched beside me. She looks battered but alive. Relief washes over me.
"What... what happened?" I croak, wincing as I touch my bruised arm.
"A temporary setback," Mom says, glancing around like she expects more bad guys to pop out of nowhere. "But we need to keep moving."
Temporary? I'm about to point out that I just got thrown like a frisbee, but then I see him—the man with the staff, standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes glowing with that same unreadable calm.
"Your journey has just begun," he says, and I hate how serious he sounds.
Great. Just what I wanted to hear.