The city of Seoul buzzed with its usual evening chaos. Neon lights flickered over crowded streets, where people hurried home after long days. Among them was Han Joo-Won, a 26-year-old office worker, moving through the crowd with his hands buried in his jacket pockets. His face reflected exhaustion, not just from work but from the monotony that had become his life.
Han lived alone in a modest apartment on the outskirts of the city. Orphaned after his parents' mysterious deaths a decade ago, he had learned to rely only on himself. His days followed a predictable rhythm: work, eat, sleep, repeat. Tonight seemed no different—until he decided to take a shortcut home through a dimly lit alley.
The alley was eerily quiet, save for the occasional hum of a streetlamp struggling to stay lit. Something about the silence unsettled him, but he shrugged it off, quickening his pace. Halfway through, he felt it—a sensation crawling up his spine, like unseen eyes boring into him.
He stopped, scanning the alley. At first, there was nothing. Then, his shadow began to shift unnaturally, moving as if it had a will of its own.
"What the…?" Han muttered, stepping back. But the shadow followed, stretching toward him, curling like smoke.
Before he could react, a sudden gust of wind roared through the alley, carrying with it an oppressive force that made his chest tighten. From the darkness, a figure emerged—a tall, humanoid shape draped in a long, tattered cloak. Its face was hidden beneath a bone-white mask that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
"Han Joo-Won," the figure rasped, its voice echoing unnaturally. "The shadow within you has awakened."
Han froze. "What are you talking about? Who… what are you?"
The figure didn't answer. Instead, it raised a hand, and the air grew colder. Suddenly, Han's shadow twisted violently, lunging at him like a living creature. Instinctively, he raised his hand to shield himself—and that's when it happened.
A surge of energy exploded from his body, hot and overwhelming. His right hand began to glow with a dark, smoky aura, and he felt something awaken deep within him, something primal and uncontrollable. The shadow attacking him recoiled, as if repelled by his newfound power.
"What… what is this?!" Han gasped, staring at his glowing hand. The energy pulsed, sending shockwaves through his body.
The masked figure tilted its head, seemingly intrigued. "You bear the power of the 'Shadow of Dawn.' But it is raw, untamed. If you cannot control it, it will destroy you."
Before Han could process the words, the figure lunged. Its cloak billowed like smoke, and in an instant, it was upon him. Instinct took over. Han thrust his glowing hand forward, and tendrils of shadow erupted from his palm, colliding with the figure in a burst of dark light.
The force of the collision threw Han backward. He hit the ground hard, the glowing aura around his hand flickering out. When he looked up, the figure was gone, leaving only the faint echo of its chilling voice:
"The awakening has begun. You cannot escape your destiny."
Han sat there, panting, his mind racing. The alley was quiet once more, but the world he knew had irrevocably changed. Whatever had just happened, it was only the beginning.