Chapter 1: The Awakening

Park Jinu sat slumped in his chair, staring at the computer screen in front of him. The soft hum of the fan in the corner of the room was the only noise, a low buzz that barely reached his ears. His fingers hovered over the keys, yet no words came to mind. It was one of those late nights when his homework felt endless, but he couldn't bring himself to focus. His attention kept drifting—back to the corner of the room.

His eyes, heavy with the weight of exhaustion, flickered toward the black and silver box sitting on his desk. The old, worn-out box his grandfather had given him just before leaving for a new life in another country.

Jinu had never been one to believe in tales of ancient artifacts or family heirlooms passed down through generations. The box had always seemed like a strange memento—his grandfather's last gift, a symbol of the past. But tonight, something felt different.

It was the glow—a faint pulse of light emanating from the cracks in the box, almost as though it were alive. He couldn't take his eyes off it, no matter how much he tried to distract himself. The screen of his computer blurred into the background, the homework forgotten as his gaze fixated on the artifact.

His grandfather's voice echoed in his mind, an old, gravelly voice full of mystery:

"The box is more than it seems, Jin-Woo. It chose you, just as it chose me."

That line had never made sense to him. Chosen for what? His grandfather, a soldier who had seen countless battles, had often spoken cryptically about the box—never explaining its true significance.

Jinu shook his head, trying to clear the fog. He had never been a believer in fate or destiny. But tonight, the box was calling him, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

A sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He leaned forward, his hand trembling as he reached for the box. It felt oddly warm beneath his fingers, as if it had been absorbing energy, or perhaps waiting for him to touch it.

He hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with doubts. Was he just imagining things? Was this just some old trinket with sentimental value?

No, it felt... different.

With a deep breath, he opened the box. The lid creaked as it lifted, revealing a small, glowing orb inside—silver with a hint of iridescent red swirling at its core. It seemed to draw in the light around it, casting strange shadows across the room.

Jinu's heart skipped a beat as he reached out and touched the orb. It was smooth, like polished glass, yet there was something unsettling about it. As soon as his fingers made contact, a strange energy surged through him. His body felt lighter, almost weightless.

He recoiled instinctively, but his eyes remained locked on the orb. In the dim light of his room, the orb seemed to hum with power. A voice suddenly filled his mind, a mechanical voice, sharp and cold.

"System activated: Time Tyrant System."

The words echoed in his skull, vibrating with a strange power that he couldn't quite comprehend. He staggered back, his breath caught in his throat, unable to look away. He blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just happened.

"What…?"

His fingers found their way to his mouth, as if seeking an escape from the rising tension in his chest. Without thinking, he bit his finger, the sharp pain snapping him out of his daze. A drop of blood fell from the tip of his finger, landing directly onto the orb. The moment it touched the surface, the orb flared to life, emitting a bright flash of silver and red.

Jinu's breath hitched in his throat as the orb glowed fiercely, casting an eerie, otherworldly light across the room. He couldn't tear his eyes away from it, mesmerized by the intensity of the light.

The voice came again, this time louder, clearer.

"Time Tyrant System: Activated."

For a moment, Jinu was frozen. This couldn't be real. He had always dismissed the bizarre stories his grandfather told him. Stories about ancient powers, forgotten technologies, and time itself being within the grasp of those worthy enough. He had always believed it was just nonsense, the ramblings of an old man.

But now… now he wasn't so sure.

Jinu slowly stood up, still staring at the orb. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the moment settling upon him. He glanced at the mirror across the room, his face pale with shock.

And then it happened.

A wave of energy passed through him, and he felt an odd, tingling sensation in his hair. He reached up, only to realize that it felt… different.

He caught his reflection in the mirror once more. His hair—his black hair—was changing. The left side of his head began to shift into a silvery hue, while the right side remained its natural black. The transformation was subtle but undeniable. The silvery side of his hair seemed to glow faintly, almost as if it were alive with energy.

His eyes felt strange, too.

When he looked into the mirror again, he saw that his right eye was now a glowing gray, the color almost pulsing with power. His left eye remained black, but it felt like the balance of his vision had shifted. The transformation was not just superficial. It was as though he had been changed from the inside out, becoming something more… or something else.

His skin, too, had changed. It had become pale, almost grayish-white, like a corpse that had been left in the light too long. His body felt lighter, and yet there was an undeniable weight, a feeling of immense power brewing inside him.

Jinu blinked, and the reflection in the mirror was no longer just that—his image seemed to ripple and distort, as though time itself was playing tricks on him.

"So... it's real."

The words left his lips before he could stop them, his voice shaky. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, his mind racing as he processed what had just occurred. This wasn't some dream. This wasn't a trick. His grandfather's tales, the stories of time manipulation, of power over time itself—it had all been true. And now, it was his.

Jinu stepped away from the mirror, his thoughts a whirlwind. He felt the strange power surging through him, his senses heightened. The Time Tyrant System was no longer just a myth. It was his. And with it, came the ability to stop time.

He glanced at the orb, which now lay dormant in the box, as though waiting for him to make the next move. His grandfather had told him that the artifact chose those who were worthy. But worthy of what? Ruling time? Controlling it? Or was it something darker?

Jinu's fingers brushed the pocket watch hanging loosely around his neck, another gift from his grandfather. The cold metal felt strangely warm against his skin. He turned it over in his hands, the tick of the gears faintly audible. Time, it seemed, was now his to command.

But at what cost?