Chapter 4: The Paradox of Self

Seung-Jin's heart pounded like a war drum, his breath ragged as the world twisted once more. The cursed Gyeonggi-do Mirror had flung him beyond the grasp of time, severing him from the past battlefield, leaving only echoes—the cries of the fallen, the acrid scent of gunpowder, and the last, anguished whisper of his father.

Then, silence.

The very air thickened, cold seeping into his bones as darkness coiled around his vision. When the world settled, he found himself standing in the ruins of a city long abandoned by time. Towering buildings loomed like the skeletal remains of a forgotten civilization, their windows hollow, their structures crumbling under the weight of history. The wind howled through the desolation, the only remnant of life in this corpse of a world.

And then, he saw him.

A lone figure stood amidst the wreckage, framed by the remnants of a dying reality. Seung-Jin staggered back, his pulse hammering in his ears as realization dawned.

The man before him was himself.

But not the man he hoped to become. Not the wiser, future version who had conquered time's cruelty. No—this was something else. Something… wrong.

The older Seung-Jin turned, his gaze like a void—cold, unfeeling, hollowed out by something far worse than time. Where there should have been warmth, ambition, and resolve, there was only the weight of countless failures.

"You finally made it," the future Seung-Jin said, his voice devoid of inflection. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd arrive."

Seung-Jin swallowed, his throat dry. "What is this place?"

His future self exhaled, weariness seeping through the cracks of his composure. "This?" He gestured to the decaying world around them. "This is the cost of defying fate."

Seung-Jin's stomach twisted. "I don't understand."

"You will." The older Seung-Jin took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "You think you can rewrite history, undo tragedy, save those you love. But every change has a consequence. Every defiance of time strips away something vital." His voice darkened. "This is where it leads."

Seung-Jin clenched his fists. "No. I refuse to become you."

A flicker—of pain? Regret?—crossed the older man's expression before vanishing beneath his cold exterior. "I told myself the same thing."

Then, the wind changed.

A presence bled into existence, coiling through the air like a serpent. The sky darkened, shadows bending as if kneeling before an unseen force. Seung-Jin's breath hitched as a voice—ancient, beautiful, and terrifying—caressed the edges of reality.

"Foolish boy… do you still believe you have a choice?"

From the void stepped a figure both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her radiance was not warmth, but devastation incarnate. Her long, flowing hair shimmered like dying embers, her eyes reflecting the infinite unraveling of all things. Time itself seemed to kneel before her.

Yeon-Hwa.

The Goddess of Entropy. The Most Beautiful Doom.

She moved with the grace of inevitability, every step carrying the weight of countless lost futures. Seung-Jin felt her presence constrict around him, the very concept of resistance wilting under her gaze.

"You think yourself a hero," she mused, her voice like silk laced with venom. "You believe you stand against the natural order." Her lips curled into something between amusement and pity. "Tell me, Seung-Jin… have you ever questioned what it is you truly fight for?"

Seung-Jin straightened his spine, fighting against the creeping doubt. "I fight for my father. For my family. For a future free from the cruelty of time."

Yeon-Hwa chuckled, the sound a dagger to his resolve. "How noble. How naive."

She turned her gaze to the future Seung-Jin. "And yet, even he fought for those same ideals. Tell me, child—did it save anyone?"

The older Seung-Jin looked away, his jaw tight.

"I fought," he murmured, his voice raw. "I fought against fate. I bled to change the past. And all I did… was become the very thing I despised."

Yeon-Hwa stepped closer, intoxicating in her destruction. "You see, Seung-Jin, time does not bend to your will. It is you who bends to it. Every desperate choice you make, every moment you seek to rewrite—it is all part of my design. You are nothing more than a thread in my grand tapestry."

Seung-Jin's fists trembled. "No. I refuse to accept that."

Her expression darkened, the air growing heavier. "Refuse all you like. The truth remains. You are not fighting to save the world. You are fighting to preserve your illusion of control. And in the end, that illusion will shatter."

Seung-Jin's mind reeled. Could she be right? Had every sacrifice, every battle, only led to this—an endless loop of failure?

No.

He refused to believe it.

A fire sparked in his chest, defiant and unyielding. He turned to his future self, searching for something—anything—that proved her wrong.

"There's another way," Seung-Jin said, voice steady. "There has to be."

The older Seung-Jin held his gaze, and for the first time, something softened. The slightest thaw in his frozen stare. "If there is…" he murmured, "then you must be the one to find it."

Yeon-Hwa watched them with a knowing smile, as if she had played this game countless times before. "Do you truly believe you can stand against me?"

Seung-Jin lifted his chin, his resolve sharpening into steel. "I don't just believe it." His fists clenched. "I know it."

The air around him crackled, raw and untamed, something beyond god or man stirring within him.

His own will.

Yeon-Hwa's lips curled, intrigued. "Then let us see if you can defy the inevitable."

And with that, the battle for time itself began, and she vanish away in the mist.