[All stories have a beginning and an end, the only choice we have is how we want ours to end. In this world, the gods do not protect, they play.]
Kim Eun-Jung slowly opened his eyes, a blinding light from the ceiling dazzling him and his ears ringing. He heard screams and cries that seemed to come from all around him. He was lying on his back on the floor, he tried to sit up but he couldn't move his legs, they were paralysed. He then tried to roll over on his side with his arms.
It was then that he felt a burning pain in his right arm. On closer inspection, he noticed that his arm was strangely long and large for a fifteen-year-old child, and that it was covered with blood-red marks that glistened in the light as if it had just been branded with a hot iron.
With all his strength he managed to roll over onto his side and slowly his eyes, which he could only half open, opened fully.
He was horrified to see that his body was covered in blood and his legs were covered in bruises. He was wearing a pair of poor canvas trousers, torn at the calves, and a T-shirt which, judging by its pitiful state, seemed to have been worn out.
He looked around him, standing in the centre of a huge, round room bathed in darkness. Pillars tens of metres high surrounded the room, and he lay on what appeared to be an altar, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows of a dome directly above him. A small crowd had gathered along the walls and seemed to be watching him intently, shouting with joy. They were all dressed in worldly clothes; the women wore long lace dresses and ornate hats decorated with feathers and other ribbons, while the men were mostly in suits and top hats.
Eun-Jung was completely disoriented. What was he doing in that outfit? Why did his arms seem so much longer and bigger than usual? Why did all these people seem to be looking at him and cheering him on? He had never done anything to attract so much attention or curiosity.
He remembered falling asleep in his room the night before after finishing his homework, but this place looked nothing like any other building he had seen in Seoul.
It was then that an old man, who must have been in his sixties, approached Eun-Jung and crouched down beside him. Only then did he notice that the man was the only one dressed differently from the other people in the room, who seemed to be enjoying the scene unfolding before their eyes.
The man wore a long black silk tunic, similar to the garb worn by a Master of Ceremonies, with a hood that fell over his head, completely hiding his face except for his beard, which seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.
The silver-bearded man held out his hand and helped him to sit up. Kim Eun-Jung looked up and saw the old man's eyes, two deep blue eyes that seemed to draw her in. He smiled.
The man stood up and looked around the room before speaking.
"Dear members of the council, please lower your voices."
The people gathered along the walls stopped talking and began to look intently at the old man, who turned to the centre of the room.
It was then that Eun-Jung noticed that he was not alone in the centre of the room, but that several people were gathered with him.
"My brothers, we are gathered here to welcome our new arrivals," the old man announced with a smile.
Something about the old man's demeanour bothered Eun-Jung. He smiled, but the smile didn't seem sincere or sympathetic. The more Eun-Jung looked at him, the more he realised that the smile the old man had been wearing all this time was nothing but an evil grin.