In the beginning, the Asuna family was like any other. They weren't wealthy, but they had enough—a small apartment on the third floor of a futuristic building, two rooms, a tiny kitchen with chipped counters, and a window that welcomed the morning light. Inside that home, Kang and his little brother Hong grew up surrounded by warmth, laughter, and love. Their mother, Ms. Asuna, was a nurse at the city hospital, her hands skilled and her heart always open. Their father, Asuna, was a construction worker, calloused hands constantly building, fixing, shaping a life of stability for his family.
At seven, Kang's world was innocent, his mind free from the weight of the world outside. Even though they lacked luxuries, his memories of those days were filled with small treasures—the way his mother would hum while cooking, the feeling of his father's strong arms lifting him and Hong in playful swings, and the laughter that filled their home every night. Hong, just five, was his constant companion, his wide-eyed little brother, always curious, always chasing after him in a clumsy waddle. They were a team, bound by the simple, unbreakable happiness that only childhood can bring.
But then the war came, ripping through the city like a storm of darkness.
Kang could still remember that day as if it were yesterday. The sound of the city alarm blaring through the streets, echoing off the buildings. He had been holding his mother's hand tightly as they walked through the crowded market, Hong laughing at something silly, their father haggling over vegetables with a shopkeeper. They were just about to leave when the ground trembled, a low rumble that grew until the street seemed to pulse with it. People began to scream, and Kang felt his mother's grip tighten on his hand, her usual gentle smile replaced with a look of terror he'd never seen before.
Beasts were attacking the city.
They came in waves, creatures of nightmare with fangs and claws, towering forms that seemed to blot out the sun. The sky grew dark with the shadows of giant winged beasts, their cries mingling with the screams of people running, hiding, falling. Kang clung to his mother, fear clutching his small heart, his brother's cries lost in the roar of chaos that engulfed the streets. Buildings toppled, debris rained down, and the stench of smoke filled the air.
Their father had picked them up, urging them to run, to keep going, but they didn't make it far before they were separated. His mother had hugged them both tightly, whispering hurried words of love and promises of safety before she rushed off, duty calling her to the wounded. Kang could still feel her hand slipping from his, her warmth lingering for only a moment before she disappeared into the chaos.
Hours passed in a blur. Kang had clung to his father, shielding Hong, trying to ignore the sounds of screaming and the sight of blood pooling on the broken pavement. The streets were choked with bodies, both human and beast, and the once-familiar buildings were now hollowed-out shells, lifeless and twisted from the flames that devoured them.
The first wave of attacks had been relentless, but eventually, silence returned to the city—an eerie, desolate quiet that left Kang's ears ringing. When he and his father finally returned home, exhausted and covered in grime, there was no sign of his mother. Days turned into weeks, and then they heard the news.
The hospital where she worked, where she'd gone to help the wounded, had been attacked by a black-crowned eagle, a beast as fearsome as it was cunning. With a wingspan that blocked out the sun and talons like knives, the eagle had torn through the building, shredding walls and reducing floors to rubble. Ms. Asuna, brave and dedicated to the end, had taken the brunt of the attack, shielding patients and staff alike from the beast's wrath. She had survived, though barely.
When they found her, she was in a coma, her body broken, her life hanging by a thread. They rushed her to intensive care, where she lay motionless, her face peaceful, as if she were only asleep. For nine years, she had slept, oblivious to the world, locked in a silent battle between life and death. Kang had visited her every chance he could, standing by her bedside, his small hand resting on hers, whispering stories and promises she'd never hear. As he grew, his voice changed, his shoulders broadened, but she remained the same—a ghost in a bed, a mother lost to a dream she couldn't escape.
Life hadn't shown mercy, even after taking their mother from them. A few years later, Hong had been in an accident. Kang could still remember the call, the frantic rush to the hospital, the cold antiseptic smell of the emergency room. The driver had been a rogue criminal, racing through the streets, uncaring of the lives he endangered. Hong had been crossing the road, just a boy running errands, innocent, unaware. The impact had been brutal, the car crushing his legs and sending him into a coma that would rob him of more than just mobility.
When Hong awoke, he was different. The doctors explained that the trauma had regressed his brain development, pulling him back years. His memories were fractured, his mind a patchwork of innocence and confusion. His laughter was still there, but it was emptier, his eyes clouded with a fog that Kang couldn't break through. The boy he had known, the brother who had once been his shadow, was gone, replaced by someone who looked like him but was irrevocably changed.
With his mother in a coma and his brother disabled, Kang's father had been forced to make impossible choices. Medical bills piled up, drowning them in debt. They moved to a cheaper neighborhood, trading the comfort of their home for a cramped apartment in a building that creaked with every step. Their father's spirit had withered under the weight of it all, the light in his eyes dimming with each passing day. He worked tirelessly, but it was never enough, and soon, he too became a ghost of the man he once was.
Kang clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the memories surged, each one a dagger twisting in his chest. He could still feel the bitterness, the anger, the helplessness that had consumed him, a child watching his family crumble, powerless to stop it. The beasts had taken everything from him—his mother's laughter, his brother's innocence, his father's strength. They had reduced his family to ashes, leaving only fragments of what once was.
Only one thing kept him going now: the hope of becoming a warrior.
It wasn't just about revenge, though that desire burned within him, a fire that refused to be extinguished. He wanted to destroy the beasts, to erase the monsters that had robbed him of his childhood, his family, his future. But there was more to it than that. Becoming a warrior meant more than just power; it meant security, respect, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. With the warrior fundings, he could lift his family out of poverty, give his father a chance to rest, provide his brother with the care he deserved.
To Kang, becoming a warrior wasn't just a goal—it was his salvation, the key to reclaiming everything that had been stolen from him.
Today was the first step on that journey. The graduation exam loomed ahead, a test of skill and determination that would determine his future. If he passed, he would be one step closer to his dream, one step closer to erasing the pain that had haunted him for so long. Failure was not an option; he couldn't afford to falter, not when so much was at stake.
Kang tightened his fists, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve. He could almost see it now—a life where his father could smile again, where Hong could find happiness, where his mother, if she ever awoke, could see the family she had fought so hard to protect, restored and whole. It was a dream he held close, a fragile hope that kept him moving forward, even in the darkest of times.
Today, he would face the test not just for himself but for his family. For the mother who lay trapped in a world of darkness, for the brother who had lost so much, for the father who had sacrificed everything. He would make sure he passed. He would become a warrior, for their sake and for his own.
With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, his gaze steely and unyielding. Today was the day he would take the first step toward a future he had fought so hard to imagine. He would pass the exam, become a warrior, and rebuild the life that had been shattered. He would bring back the happiness that had been stolen, no matter what it took.
For his family. For his honor. For himself.