Chapter 8: If Only
"My baby."
"You will always be the most precious to me."
"I am sorry."
"I want you to be a better person."
"Kyorin."
Memories, gentle as a spring breeze yet sharp as the edge of a broken shard, surged forward unbidden. They painted a world where warmth existed—where a mother's love was a cocoon shielding him from all that was cruel and cold.
But now, half his body trembled with a violence he could barely contain, his knuckles cracking under the strain of his clenched fists. Kyorin's soul wrestled with itself, his thoughts a chaotic tempest of rage and sorrow.
"Why...?"
"Why...?"
"Why now of all times?"
The questions stabbed at his resolve, but he buried them as best he could. This was not the time. No, it could not be. He could not afford to let emotions gnaw at his core, not now when he was in the state of "Detachment".
"I was lenient," Kyorin admitted, no—he was far too lenient. Was it the strange energy of this world that softened him? The odd physiology of its inhabitants? Or had it simply been the joy he dared to allow himself in this fleeting, fragile life?
But fate had a cruel sense of timing. Now, when he was bereft of hope when he most needed his strength, it was her—his mother—who appeared in this pitiful, bloodied state. It was as if the universe itself sought to torment him.
'Is this your way of mocking me? Fate!' Kyorin's thoughts spat venom at the heavens, his bitterness twisting into the air. Was this all a game to show him just how powerless he truly was? To strip him of every last illusion?
'Why like this?' he internally bellowed, yet remained silent, his expression a mask slowly but beneath, it was steadily cracking.
Just then, a hateful voice from another life intruded—sharp, cold, and unwelcome. His old teacher's grating words filled his mind, a ghost he had long tried to forget: "You should have only cared about yourself."
"If you truly want to be unperturbed by temptations and attachments, then make yourself your only priority."
"Shut it..." Kyorin growled under his breath, a futile attempt to banish the voice. But the past was relentless.
Ahead of him, Xia moved. She stumbled with a pained grace, blood dripping from her broken body. Each step was a hiss of agony, her feet dragging over the gravel, leaving behind a trail of crimson that seared into Kyorin's soul.
"My child, are you okay?" The words struck him like a blow, her concern cutting deeper than any physical wound.
Her face, pale and drawn, carried the same warmth that had once lulled him to sleep. The same warmth that had held his world together when all else crumbled.
But now, that warmth was fading, dulled by pain and exhaustion. He desired to reach out to her, to lay over her path to protect her injured feet as though he could create a footing for her broken body using his small body, to prevent the jagged ground from wounding her further.
Instead, he stood frozen.
His body trembled with suppressed sobs, his heart wailing against the prison of his ribs. The depth of his helplessness crushed him, the weight of his inability pressing down like a mountain.
He cursed his powerlessness and fragility, and he cursed the universe for letting him witness this moment without the means to change it.
And yet, she pressed on. Xia's bloodied form was a testament to the love that refused to waver, a love that defied agony itself. With every step, she said, "I will reach you, no matter the cost."
But Kyorin couldn't bear it. His tears spilt freely now, silent and hot, streaking down his face as he whispered under his breath, words meant for no one but himself.
"Please... stop. Don't hurt yourself." He wanted to convey these desperate words through his teary eyes.
But she didn't stop. She never would. Because even as her body broke, her spirit remained unyielding, bound by a love that transcended pain.
And Kyorin could only watch, his heart breaking with each moment, the echoes of his helplessness resounding like a cruel, eternal melody.
He couldn't even close his eyes. To look away would be a display of concern—like admitting one's suppressed emotions in a state of Detachment.
But as he stood there, trembling and torn, that hateful voice intruded once more, slithering into the corners of his mind like an unwelcome guest.
"See? I told you before, that you should not forge any connection if you wish to be strong," the voice of his old mentor sneered.
"Only by letting go of such useless, miscellaneous relationships can you continue without a worry."
The words struck like venom, twisting deeper into his wounded heart. Kyorin bit down on his lip, his fists trembling at his sides. He wanted to scream back, to drown out that voice with his defiance, but it clung to him like a shadow, impossible to shake.
"What is this fleeting embrace in front of greatness?" the voice persisted, dripping with disdain.
But Kyorin's chest burned, not with agreement but with rage. 'Shut it,' he gritted, his voice barely audible, but the storm inside him raged louder.
Yet the voice lingered, mocking, reminding him of his limitations. He was too small, too weak, too powerless.
And though he fought to silence it, he couldn't escape the truth in the pit of his stomach: right now, he wasn't strong enough to protect her, not even himself from ever witnessing this sight.
'And what of it?' Kyorin challenged the mocking voice, his words laced with quiet defiance. 'What would change even if I forsake my ties now? The deed is done; your provocations are meaningless.'
The voice chuckled darkly, a sound that coiled like smoke in his mind. "Who is to say you wouldn't forge new bonds in the future?"
But Kyorin had already dulled his thoughts, shutting out the taunts to focus on what truly mattered—his mother, inching closer despite the earth's merciless cruelty.
'That's right,' Kyorin thought, his gaze fixed on her battered form. 'The only thing I care about right now is her.'
His lips quivered into a helpless smile as he whispered, "Mother... You are still approaching me? Even when the soles of your feet are torn apart, you keep coming closer."
Xia's fragile yet unwavering voice reached him through the haze of pain. "I cannot embrace my dear son—you—without getting close to you."
A/N: Why did I put JOJO ref here, anyways forget it.
And then, she was there, her arms wrapping around his small, trembling body. The warmth of her embrace pierced through the chill of the air, a fleeting sanctuary amid the chaos.
"I'm sorry," she began softly, her breath brushing against his ear. "Mother is—"
The sound of a blade slicing through flesh cut her words short.
For a moment, time itself seemed to halt. Xia's body jerked as her head severed cleanly from her shoulders, the swing of the blade as precise as it was brutal. Blood gushed in torrents, hot and unrelenting, drenching Kyorin as he stood frozen in her arms. Her body didn't let go, even in death.
Kyorin's world shattered as his sclera turned blood-red, rage and grief consuming him. He barely had time to react before the Fractisdus Executioner swung his blade again, the sharp edge slicing through Kyorin's throat with merciless ease.
"Well, that's that," the executioner muttered coldly, flicking the blood from his blade before turning and walking away.
Kyorin collapsed alongside his mother, their bodies entwined in death. His vision blurred, but as his consciousness faded, he thought bitterly, "If only... If only I could use my true powers."
The crimson that had soaked his vision began to twist and shift, pulling him into a memory—or was it a nightmare? He saw the same scarlet sky from that day, the day the heavens bled and he was bested by the myriad of transcendent individuals. The day his power had failed him.
"If only... If only I could be stronger than what I am... than what I was." The words echoed in his mind, a mantra of desperate longing.
Beneath his fallen body, the ground began to stir. Crimson streams of blood, his and Xia's, seeped deep into the earth, converging into something unnatural. A force, ancient and dreadful, awoke from its slumber.
The lingering presence of the Myriad Tacet Discords—those silent, waiting fragments of destruction that had been healing his wounds to later consume him—suddenly faltered. The stream of crimson they fed upon shifted, becoming something unrecognizable, something they feared.
A tremor ran through the ground, violent and unrelenting. The twisted, withered tree at the centre of it all began to shudder, its bark cracking and splitting as if gasping for air.
From the depths of the tree came a voice, deep and resonant, dripping with ancient power.
"What a terrifying rage," it murmured, and the earth itself seemed to bow beneath its weight.
The air grew thick with a suffocating presence as the fractured remnants of Kyorin's consciousness began to stir. The blood beneath him shimmered with a dark, otherworldly light, and the trembling Tacet Discords recoiled, their violent hunger stilled by an unfathomable force.
The moment stretched into eternity, suspended between despair and revelation. From Kyorin's broken body, two distinct resonances erupted like twin storms colliding in the void.
One shone with a cerulean brilliance, pure and calm like the surface of an untouched lake; the other roared with the fury of molten crimson, untamed and ferocious.
The two lights clashed, their opposing forces grinding against one another before coalescing into a radiant purple hue that bathed the world around him.
A/N: You thought it was a plot, but it was another JJK reference.
From his neck, an early, greyish glow began to manifest. It pulsed like the heartbeat of an ancient entity, its radiance coiling and swirling until it solidified into a distinct shape—a single star encircled by a cross.
The pattern burned into his flesh like a brand, a symbol of something far greater than he could yet comprehend—a Tacet Mark.
Down the hill, in the quiet, unsuspecting Yang Niu village, the earth groaned, and the entity that had been slumbering deep within the soil stirred fully awake. Its form was indistinct, cloaked in shadows and raw power, but the greyish light that emanated from it matched the hue of the mark on Kyorin's neck.
A deep, resonant laugh echoed through the village, sending tremors through the air. It was a laugh of delight, of revelation, as though a long-awaited prophecy had finally come to pass.
"I see..." the entity rumbled, its voice carrying both awe and triumph. "At last, through the Wuthering and the Resonance, a lone blessed one has emerged."
The grey light intensified, casting an eerie glow over the village. Structures quaked, and the trees surrounding the area seemed to bow as if paying homage to the awakened force. The entity's joy was palpable, its presence suffocating, as though it were a god rediscovering its purpose.
Back at the scene of devastation, Kyorin's body twitched. His wounds, though mortal, seemed to resist the finality of death as if the force within him refused to let go.
The purple resonance swirled around him, reaching toward the sky like a beacon, and the grey light from his Tacet Mark pulsed in time with the awakening of the entity in Yang Niu village.
To be continued...
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A/N: I was gone for a week, yeah. Went to a week-long Hackathon came in Fourth place, fk.