The Dark Past

"Father…" I breathed, unable to be sure of what to make of this situation. I felt air escape my lungs, and I nearly fell out of my chair. "No…"

I couldn't believe what I was seeing before my eyes. This had to be a joke. Some kind of sick trick, some kind of illusion, to coerce me into believing him. No way what I was seeing before my eyes was real. There was just... no way.

And yet… deep down, I knew. This was no illusion. No mere illusion could capture that pained look on my father's face as he stared at me with an expression filled with both guilt and regret. No mere illusion could ever replace my father, and I would always be able to tell the difference between the real one and a fake.

And this man… was certainly real.

"Why, Father…?" I asked, voice quiet and strained. "I thought you died… how are you alive… and the leader of the same organization who killed you, no less?"

The man by the alias of X—my father, Xuan Ying—gave a sigh.