A gentle breeze stirred through the cemetery as a lanky figure stood before a simple, weathered gravestone.
It had been 400 years since his last battle, since he'd collapsed beside the sabertooth tiger and felt himself finally slip away.
And yet, here he was—alive once more in a world that had forgotten him, staring down at a grave.
He took a slow, deep breath, the scent of earth and autumn filling his lungs, grounding him as the wind blew through his dark blue hair.
The gravestone read "Hyeon-jin," a simple name etched with care. Seo Hyeon-jin. He had whispered that name more times than he could count, and now it was all he had left of the man who had taken him in when he was just a helpless child.
"It's been one year since you died..."
His mind drifted back to his earliest memory in this life—born abandoned in a cold, forgotten alley in the slums, just another unwanted soul left to fate.
But fate, it seemed, had a strange way of working. Hyeon-jin, an old, stooped man with eyes soft as winter's first snow, had found him, bundled him up, and taken him to the small home he called his own.
For seventeen years, Hyeon-jin had been his family, guiding him with gentle hands, teaching him how to read, and how to survive in this rift world again.
But more than that, the old man taught him about kindness, patience, and resilience—qualities that had been lost to him across countless lifetimes and battles.
But now, that too had passed. And here he stood, a boy with an old soul, gazing at the resting place of the only family he'd ever known.
Why another life? Why again? The question burned in his mind, but no answer came. Perhaps he was cursed to drift from one life to the next, always losing, always remembering.
He knelt, placing a hand on the gravestone, and closed his eyes.
"Thank you, Mr Hyeon-jin," he murmured, his voice soft. "For giving me a reason to live again, even if I don't understand why and even though I don't need it."
As he rose, a quiet resolve settled over him. He had survived lifetimes of battles, lived and died with the weight of a thousand wars—and yet, perhaps this life held a different path.
Maybe he wasn't here to wield a blade this time. "I would live a normal life now, no more fighting for me. I can survive another way."
He almost laughed at the irony.
After centuries of clashing swords and facing death, here he was, determined to keep his hands clean of violence.
Stepping away from the grave, he looked out at the world before him, his golden eyes alight with something new. This life was his own, and for the first time in centuries, he felt free to choose what to do with it.
As he walked, a faint glimmer of sunlight broke through the clouds, casting a gentle warmth on his back as he left the cemetery.
He took a deep breath, letting go of the lingering heaviness, and looked around.
Ahead, two familiar figures stood waiting by the sidewalk, their voices faintly reaching him. The girl turned around, saw him, and called out, "Nam Damin!"
A small smile formed on Damin's lips. 'Seonho and Jinha are already here.'
"You guys are a bit too early," he said, approaching them.
"There's a new rift in S District. We're on cleanup as soon as the breakers give the all-clear," Seonho explained, eyes on his phone.
Jinha flashed a grin. "An Omen 5 rift this time—lucky us, right? Should be a walk in the park."
Seonho and Jinha were friends Damin made while living with Hyeon-jin. The two were from the slums as well, and they had all grown up together.
After Hyeon-jin's death, the three of them had decided to survive together.
Since none of them had awakened and they'd already passed the age of thirteen—the cutoff age for awakening—they found a way to earn steady wages as rift cleaners instead.
It wasn't glamorous, but it was enough. Well, actually, they weren't good at any other thing.
"All right, let's go," Damin said, and he hailed a taxi.
After hailing the taxi which came to a stop in front of them, the three of them squeezed into the backseat, Seonho taking the window seat while Damin and Jinha sat side by side.
As they settled in for the drive to the rift cleaner's company, Jinha fished through her bag and pulled out a familiar packet of jellybeans, offering them to Damin with a small smile.
"Here," she said, her tone casual, though there was a hint of something warmer beneath it.
Damin accepted the packet, his fingers brushing against hers. It was such a small, familiar gesture, yet it warmed him more than the sweets themselves.
"You always know what I need," he murmured, a hint of a smile touching his lips as he recalled the first time she'd offered him jellybeans.
Back then, he'd been a stranger to her kindness, guarded and wary. But somehow, she'd wormed her way past his defenses, one colorful candy at a time.
Jinha's cheeks warmed as she watched him accept the jellybeans with that gentle smile of his.
He probably didn't realize how much she cared, how every small gesture felt like a step closer to something more.
Does he even know… how I feel? she wondered, glancing away as he popped another jellybean into his mouth.
Maybe one day, she'd gather the courage to tell him. But for now, this moment was enough.
Damin opened the packet of Jellybeans and began to eat them, every single jellybeans a melted sweetness on his tongue. ' Ah! It gets sweeter everytime I eat them ! I would never get such sweetness in my past life! '
Should I tell him…? she thought, stealing a glance at him as he popped another jellybean into his mouth.
'It's only been a year since he lost Grandpa Seo Hyeon-jin,' Jinha thought, biting her lip. 'Maybe it's not the right time… but if I don't tell him soon, I don't think I'll ever have the courage.'
But before she could come to a conclusion, the taxi slowed to a stop outside the rift cleaner's company.
"Here we are," Seonho announced as they climbed out, stepping into the building where several other cleaners were milling about. They showed their IDs at the front desk, holding them out for scanning before they were granted access to the dressing room.
Inside, they each moved to their lockers, putting on their uniforms and strapping on the equipment needed for their cleanup job.
The air was thick with the familiar scent of disinfectant and the faint buzz of nerves. Rift cleaning wasn't glamorous, and it wasn't without its risks, but for Damin, it felt like the simplest path to normalcy.
Just as he finished fastening his gloves, Jinha approached, her expression a mix of resolve and uncertainty.
She glanced down, fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. "Damin… there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
He looked at her with mild curiosity, though he already had an idea of what was on her mind.
But he nodded anyway, keeping his face carefully neutral. "Yeah? What is it?"
She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the side, then back to him. "I'll… I'll tell you after we're done cleaning, okay?" Her cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, and Damin gave a small nod.
"Alright, I'll look forward to it," he said with a smile, knowing deep down that whatever feelings she might have, he could only see her as a sister.
Once everyone was ready, they gathered outside, where a company van waited to shuttle them to S District.
As they climbed in and settled for the ride, Damin glanced out the window, his mind fixed on the job ahead. But a faint unease tugged at him, and Jinha's words echoed persistently in his thoughts, stirring up questions he wasn't prepared to face.
'How am I supposed to handle this?'
He had faced danger and loss before, but this was different—a confession, the weight of feelings he'd never had to consider.
The van halted at the edge of the rift zone, an area cordoned off and lined with looming, twisted buildings.
Near the entrance, a group of breakers from the renowned Iron Fang guild waited.
They stood out in sleek, high-grade combat gear emblazoned with the guild's wolf insignia. Iron Fang's reputation was almost close to legendary—they were skilled breakers who claimed first pick of the some dangerous rifts in the country, amassing both fame and fortune. They made sure everyone knew it, too.
As Damin and his crew exited the van, the head of the Iron Fang party—a young man with tousled red hair and sharp crimson eyes—turned their way, sneering.
"Well, well, look what we have here. The trash detail has arrived." He smirked, and his guildmates snickered on cue. "Guess we don't have to worry about getting our hands dirty with cleanup when the bottom-feeders are here."
A slow burn ignited in Damin's chest. Bottom-feeder? How many of his kind had he bested in past lives, fighters who had never faced the true depths of survival? This arrogant breaker, with his pristine armor and unearned sneer, couldn't possibly understand what it took to endure.
Restraining himself took effort; every muscle resisted the urge to remind Tae-hyun that true power lay in restraint, not in arrogance.
Tae-hyun adjusted his gear with a proud smirk. "You cleaners wouldn't understand what it's like to wield real power," he sneered. "The thrill of being respected, feared—that's what separates people like us from… well, from you."
Damin observed him quietly, noting the flicker of almost desperate admiration in Tae-hyun's eyes.
To Damin, strength was a means to protect, not a status symbol. But for Tae-hyun, power was something to chase and flaunt—a mindset he knew led only to eventual downfall.
Damin clenched his fists, Tae-hyun's mocking words echoing in his mind.
Part of him wanted to put this arrogant breaker in his place. But he reminded himself—this life was supposed to be different.
Exhaling slowly, he forced his hands to relax.
He glanced at his fellow rift cleaners, expecting a reaction.
Their faces remained stoic, shoulders slightly slumped, eyes averted.
It was clear they were used to this kind of treatment and didn't want trouble.
Even Jinha and Seonho just shrugged, with Seonho whispering, "Let it slide."
Damin paused. I'm centuries older in spirit than this hotheaded fool, he reminded himself. He had faced far worse than insults in previous lives.
Then, almost without thinking, he stepped forward, strolling up to Tae-hyun with a calm confidence.
Tae-hyun, already dismissing the cleaners and joking with his guildmates, didn't notice until it was too late.
With a subtle flick of his foot, Damin tapped one of Tae-hyun's shin guards, which he'd noted was slightly loose.
Tae-hyun stumbled, tripping forward and landing face-first in the dirt, his weapon clattering beside him.
Laughter from the Iron Fang guild died abruptly, replaced by stunned silence. The rift cleaners' eyes widened in shock at the sudden turn of events.
Tae-hyun scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with rage as he glared up at Damin, fists clenched.
Damin met his furious gaze with calm indifference, leaning in close.
"What? Do you want to hit me? Go ahead—try," he murmured, his voice as cold as steel. "I've lived enough lifetimes to know how this ends."
A tense silence hung between them, and Tae-hyun's eyes widened, the rage in them dimming just a little.