Yeong-Hwan gasped, feeling blood rush down to his head at an alarming rate. The feeling slowly dissipates, and he feels much lighter. Concern flashes throughout his head before he faintly returns to his senses. Sluggishly, he glances around, light eyes barely refocusing. The sight unfolding around him smelled of childhood nostalgia. Reeked, if anything. There was a younger version of him running around with other disciples on clan grounds. Birds chirped, flowers rustled, and the sun shone. It’s picturesque, a classic. Following the child around, Yeong-Hwan takes the sight in for the first time in what feels like forever. He lacked knowledge of the ghost’s motive for bringing up such memories, but still walked around for the sake of trying.

  He snaps back to reality and sees that the other him has fallen. Could he touch these people?

  He stalks closer with the intent to answer his question. Kneeling, Yeong-Hwan attempts to grab the youth's sleeve. He then fails and stumbles. The second he touched the sleeve, everything came crumbling down. The cloth disappeared, along with the younger version of him. It all fades into specs of light.

  The setting changes, wood stretches out from nothingness, pulling him out from the void and into a cozy home. He walks around leisurely, the smell of incense wafting throughout the rooms. He made sure to not go around touching things in worry of the undoing of the memory.

  The thing is, it wasn’t a memory. That’s what touched him initially. He's been in plenty of houses his lifetime, but not this specific one. Suspecting discourse, he turns around the corner. “Anybody home?” He probed, soon crossing a corridor. He continues walking down the hallway, footsteps light.

  There was a door at the end. He slides it open- there lay two cold, mangled, unresponsive bodies. A woman, and a man, holding each other in arms. He went over and got down on one knee to examine their features. At the very least, they did not resemble him. Was this the ghost’s memory, perhaps? He didn’t know what he was hoping for. To some extent, Yeong-Hwan wished that it was, that there was some part of him he blocked out from ever remembering his biological father and mother. Growing up, Yeong-Hwan had been given the truth from the beginning of his teachings. He knew that they were dead and gone, that he hadn't actually gotten to look at his mother or father. That there was an entire scandal surrounding his birth. He grew up facing the truth, and didn’t let it eat him. Still, as he sits here - he wonders if things had gone differently, would he be happy? Already feeling uncomfortable in his skin, he tensed up.

  Yeong-Hwan’s lips begin quirking upward in a bitter grin. “What is this woman's angle?” is what Yeong-Hwan truly wanted to ask, but he restrained himself, biting his bottom lip.

  The scene around him begins to change, and everything surrounding him begins to collapse and fall apart. As if god struck a sword down and cleaved the heavens down to the earth, every tree, building, and person was destructively cleaved apart in a strike of light. The light fades. Darkness unfolds. It envelops him like a blanket. He hears a voice behind him, soft, tired, old. Ah - yes, his mentor. Yeong-Hwan’s eyes widen, pupils shaking in the green sea of his irises. “You want to be something, and I understand. Everyone’s felt that way.” “But people grow out of that feeling too, so what’s your problem?”

  Quite the overachiever he was. He wanted it all, everything he could get from the earth. The dirt, the people. Anything he could own meant everything and beyond for him. Anything that could make him stand out, Yeong-Hwan wanted it, yearned for it— Needed it.

  Though, as he reflects here, he wonders, has he truly ever owned anything that was so distinct it had his name written all over it? No. He has never once in his life. Initially, he used to be ashamed of the fact, but he's grown enough to know that he’ll have to start doing things to get to that point.

  Yeong-Hwan gazes down to the floor emptily. There was room to speculate that he hasn’t changed at all, too. Yeong-Hwan isn’t fond of compromise. The very thought of sharing disgusts him, of being able to give. Of someone taking from him. He doesn’t like when things are taken from him, ever since he was a child. The young Yeong-Hwan bows his head submissively, face shadowed by what could either be shame or doubt that nearly envelops his envious, green eyes. Equivalent to that of a snake stalking its prey, Yeong-Hwan circles his younger self. He’s realized a pattern in these memories. The very second he lost himself in thought reminiscing about his life decisions was the moment it all connected for him. Yeong-Hwan understood the ghost's intention now. Bringing up melancholic, dejected recollections was the point, to make him think, to wallow in his misery until he was at his most vulnerable to be taken.

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  This was exactly how she lured her victims in! He’d be damned if he was going to fall victim to a scheme like this.

  The younger Yeong-Hwan, head still hung low - whimpered. His fist clenched, voice trembling. “I don’t want to be like everyone. Like the others, who blend into the crowd, going about their lives, being so comfortable knowing they amounted up to nothing.“

  His master interrupted with a burst of mean laughter. It erupted from his throat so suddenly it made it seem as if he had been holding that one in for a considerably long time before letting it out. It also was condescending. “Seems that there is a lot on your mind. Who would’ve known? So you’re trying to make a name for yourself…” The man leans forward, robes wrinkling as he lowers his hand to pat his head. “Then here's a piece of advice, you’ve certainly got a want, and wants can truly motivate a person to keep going. To move forward.” He leaned back, stroking his beard in thoughtful consideration of what his next words would be. Yeong-Hwan merely frowned at this in what he couldn’t tell was either contempt or disappointment. His master was rather horrible at advice.

  “What I mean by that is, yearn for it. Treat it like a need. Make it everything to you. That’s the only way you’ll get it done.”

  ”Though I doubt you’ll take this to heart, you don't take most of my lessons seriously to begin with. It’s always fighting with you,” The old man sighed, shaking his head.

  “I tried, in the end.”

  The disciple stood still for a moment, thin brows furrowed as he tried taking it all in. It was too much for his young mind to grasp. Yeong-Hwan didn’t know what to think, hearing those words all over again. The thing is, he did take it to heart. It stuck with him. A shame, he’ll likely never be able to tell him this.

  Despite that heartfelt speech, death looming over him wasn’t something he could just forget.

  He sighed, hand drifting over to the hilt of his sword. The weapon began to be drawn from its sheath, a faint aura oozing from it. His main priority for now was keeping himself composed, letting his guard down was going to be the death of him, in every sense. While this state was brought about by an outsider, it was still his mind she was using to achieve this. If he were to attack anybody in here, he’d only end up hurting himself. He muses that is exactly the reason why the men before him lost their lives. It was nothing out of the ordinary with a ghost like this.

  Not wasting a second longer, Yeong-Hwan closes his eyes in concentration. It was a whirlwind of voices, a jumbled mess of swords clanging, and the crumbling of buildings.

  A bead of sweat rolls down his cheek. The air felt thick suddenly. Hot. Upon that realization, he opened his eyes immediately. Something- or someone slivered around him, tightening and coiling around his waist and legs. His breathing worsens and becomes laborious as his lungs get constricted. Thick scales threaten to poke and rip through pristine robes. That was also the moment he realized that someone's back was pressed against his, a smaller frame he'd grown to recognize. “Dae-Hyeon!” Yeong-Hwan shouted, his movements cautious as he arched his back as much as possible to wiggle loose of the serpent's hold. There was little room, but he managed to make it work. His sword, with his will, began to pull itself out from its sheath and headed straight for the eye of the snake. “Dae-Hyeon!” He calls out again, hair sticking to his face in sweat as he turns his head to look back at Dae-Hyeon, who still seems to be stuck in his head. Admittedly, this worried him, he wasn’t sure how he could break the younger man free from his dilemma. Integrity and control over one's mind were one of the two possible ways to escape this absolute nightmarish hell of a ghost. A loud hiss reverberated throughout the domain as the sword latched itself into the eyeball of the reptile. Enraged, she flicked her tail, body shuddering as the long appendage strenuously chucked the two men into the open forest. Yeong-Hwan glanced over to Dae-Hyeon, the brunette who still managed to be unconscious while terror itself reigned in on them. His brows furrow, “Dae-Hyeon..” he muttered in condemnation. Slowly, he embraces him from behind, arms winding around his waist. His fingers dig into the sides of his waist tightly, pulling him in closer to him. Dae-Hyeon conveniently managed to wake up that very moment, launched into fear as it dawned on him they were being catapulted into a house at full speed. “Sahyung!” He cried, Yeong-Hwan only clutched him in his arms tighter for reassurance, “I'm here.” he hummed. He was relieved to see that Dae-Hyeon didn’t drop dead, that’d be a mess trying to explain to the higher-ups.

  Yeong-Hwan takes most of the impact from the sling, but brushes it off just fine, getting up as if it were nothing. He doesn’t assist Dae-Hyeon in getting up, instead, he raises his hand, calling his sword back. It pulls out of the serpent's eye and finds its way back home in his hand. Too weakened to maintain her initial form, the ghost reverts into her weaker humanoid vessel. As she did, Yeong-Hwan wondered two things, her state of undress, and how he should end this. Things may not be too far past diplomacy, but that all depends on how far his irritation will grow in the next few moments.

  “What have you done to the others that have come here in need of rest?” Yeong-Hwan approached the woman steadily, looking down at her, who had fallen weakly to the ground, a bloodied mess. Dae-Hyeon didn’t know where to stare, so he simply stood behind Yeong-Hwan, waiting. “I’ve killed them all, and devoured their very souls!” She rasps out, blood begins pooling out from her right eye once more. She writhes in pain before pulling herself up, legs shaking in the effort. Yeong-Hwan furrowed a brow, his face carrying an unreadable expression as he tried to connect the dots. “Is there any reason behind this?” He asks, brandishing his sword. He glances down. Her injuries seem to have already healed. How inconvenient.

  “Are you married?”

  Dae-Hyeon eyes had widened imperceptibly the second she spoke those words. “Sahyung!” He screamed, “Do not answer that question!” Yeong-Hwan pivoted to look back over, “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? She’s clearly seeking revenge!” Yeong-Hwan still didn’t say much, eyes tracing over his sword. “Is that supposed to bother me?”

  “I’m not married, I wouldn’t be here if I was either.” He sighed, and brought his sword up.