The thick silence hung like a blade between them, humming faintly with unseen power. Hyeonjae kept his head lowered, the weight of Seojun's gaze pressing into the back of his skull like cold iron.
His arms trembled slightly as he still cradled the limp form of Taejun, the boy's small chest rising and falling in a shallow rhythm beneath the drug's grip.
Hyeonjae dared not lift his eyes, but the tension devoured him like teeth beneath his skin.
Finally, with a breath that barely escaped his lips, he spoke.
"Park Seojun…" his voice was thin, strained under forced calm, "I only sought to act before the boy was lost entirely. You know how fragile they are at this stage… how easily they slip through our fingers."
His fingers shifted slightly on Taejun's limp body, almost as if using the boy as a shield between himself and the man before him. "I merely thought it… efficient. To prepare him early for your design."
Seojun did not move, nor did his expression shift. His silver hair, long and wild like threads of snowy silk, swayed slightly with the cold breath of air that passed through the house's broken walls.
The soft clinks of his golden chains, draped across his chest like ceremonial offerings, whispered with his stillness. The carved runes on his belt glinted faintly beneath his cloak's heavy folds.
When he finally spoke, his voice remained low, as though each word was weighed before release.
"You speak of efficiency," Seojun murmured, his tone devoid of praise. "Efficiency does not breed recklessness. It does not leave marks where none should exist." His golden eyes flickered briefly toward Haneul, still collapsed on the floor, then back to Taejun's fragile body. "Your eagerness threatens the foundation I have built, Hyeonjae."
The air grew heavier at his words, as though the house itself bowed beneath the growing pressure. Hyeonjae's throat constricted. He knew better than to defend himself too sharply, but desperation wormed into his words nonetheless.
"My loyalty has never wavered," Hyeonjae pleaded softly. "I only wanted to offer you what you seek: a vessel. The boy is already receptive and vulnerable. I could sense it from afar. His mind fractures so easily that it would be simple to shape him."
Seojun's gaze narrowed, the faintest crease appearing at the corner of his eye, not anger, but cold scrutiny. He finally took another step forward, the violet glow of his staff intensifying as he approached.
The dull thud of his boot against the floor was soundless, yet its weight reverberated like distant thunder through Hyeonjae's chest.
"You presume to read the boy better than I?" Seojun asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, yet carrying the force of a blade. "You have forgotten your place. You are nothing without me. Will smoke come out of a chimney if there is no fire?"
"No— no, never!" Hyeonjae choked, lowering his head further, his breath quickening. "You see far beyond anything I could ever grasp, Park Seojun. I only… wished to serve. Perhaps, to bring him closer to your will."
Seojun's gaze bore into him for what felt like an eternity, the cold glow of his staff reflecting in the sweat that now clung to Hyeonjae's pale skin.
Finally, his voice came again, slower, as if to remind him of the chasm that lay between them.
"Service is not a license." His words slid like silk drawn across a blade. "Your ambition clouds your restraint. And ambition... is not what I require of you."
The words hung in the stale air like a death sentence, but Seojun's gaze softened slightly, not out of mercy, but calculated precision.
"Yet," Seojun continued after a moment, "your devotion remains intact. You've not betrayed me. But this misstep will not be forgotten. And it will always follow your shadows even after death."
Hyeonjae nodded rapidly, his head nearly trembling. "Yes… Yes, of course. Your patience is my salvation." His voice quivered, but the relief bled through his words like a man barely spared from drowning.
Seojun's gaze finally shifted down toward Taejun, his eyes scanning the boy's fragile face. The violet aura around the staff swirled, faint tendrils coiling like smoke reaching for him but never quite touching.
"He is delicate," Seojun whispered more to himself now, as though studying a fragile specimen. "So... Perfect."
He raised his hand slowly, the intricate rings on his pale fingers gleaming beneath the flicker of light. His fingertips hovered inches from Taejun's forehead, the air thickening around his hand as unseen currents swirled in response to his silent command. A pulse of violet shimmered along Taejun's skin, like a thin film of heat warping the air.
"You were correct about one thing," Seojun said softly, his voice growing distant, contemplative. "This one holds much potential. But that potential is not yet yours to unlock." His eyes snapped back to Hyeonjae. "He remains mine. You must not show yourself near him from today onwards."
"Yes… of course," Hyeonjae whispered again, his voice barely audible. "Your wish is mine to conclude. Always yours."
For a moment, the entire house seemed to hold its breath under Seojun's dominion.
Haneul's breath rattled in his throat as his dry lips trembled with desperation.
His hands scraped weakly against the rotting wooden floor, dragging his broken body forward despite the stinging in his lungs and the violent tremors that shook his limbs. His voice cracked, hoarse and pitiful, but the words spilled from him in frantic gasps.
"Please… I beg you… I'll do anything… anything, but don't take him…" His eyes burned, clouded by tears that blurred Seojun's silhouette into a pale smear of silver and black, as though the man before him wasn't flesh but some ungraspable specter. "He's just a child… and a brother of mine… please, don't take him away…"
The words bled out like the last breath of a drowning man, dissolving into the cold, oppressive silence that followed.
The house seemed to pulse with the weight of his pleading, every creak of the broken floorboards amplifying the terror that gripped him.
His hands curled into the floorboards like claws, nails cracking against the splintered wood as if he might hold the world in place with sheer will.
Seojun did not move.
For a long moment, he remained still, his pale hand still suspended above Taejun's unconscious form. The soft violet shimmer around his fingertips stilled, frozen mid-surge.
His face, which until now carried the cool detachment of a man observing fragile machinery, began to shift. The calm evaporated like mist, drawn away by something colder, heavier, the edges of his mouth tightening, his eyes narrowing into fine slits of gold.
The sharpness in his gaze pierced straight into Haneul's soul, and the very air seemed to constrict like a throat being crushed.
The silence cracked under the low, resonant sound of his voice, slower now, colder. "You speak of mercy… for someone's life." His golden eyes glimmered with the reflection of unseen forces coiling behind them. "You dare to beg, but not for yourself, but for him. Him."
Seojun finally lowered his hand, letting it fall heavily to his side, the chains of his robes clinking faintly like distant bells tolling for the dead. His towering frame shifted as he turned fully toward Haneul, casting the younger man under his shadow.
"You think your desperation moves me?" His voice was like silk dragged across broken glass, soft yet jagged, slicing the remnants of hope from Haneul's chest. "You mistake me for something that operates within your small, desperate notions of compassion. This thing you call sorrow, although I can't understand it, I enjoy yours. Truly. It's like glasses in my eyes."
Haneul's head dropped lower, his forehead pressing against the cold floor, his body shaking violently beneath Seojun's words. "Please… he's innocent… punish me instead. Take me instead."
"Innocent?" Seojun's voice cut through him like a blade. "Do you think innocence is a shield? His innocence is precisely what I require."
His boots shifted closer, each step sounding like the drum of judgment inside Haneul's skull. "It is the rawest clay. He is the unspoiled vessel. His mind has not yet fractured under the weight of this world's filth. That is why he is worthy. And that is why you are not."
The cold metal tip of Seojun's staff suddenly pressed beneath Haneul's chin, lifting his face upward with calculated force. Haneul's bloodshot eyes met Seojun's golden ones, and the suffocating power behind them threatened to unmake him.
"You grovel like a dog," Seojun whispered, his breath unnervingly calm, as if speaking to something beneath him. "Yet dogs know when to stay silent. But you? You can lead a horse and go to a stream, but you can't make it drink water of its own will."
For a moment, neither moved.
The cold breath of the house hissed through shattered walls like the last sigh of winter.
And then, Seojun's eyes narrowed even further. His voice dropped into something more dangerous. "But… for now, I will listen. Not for your sake. But because your weakness amuses me."
A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You may speak and beg. But know this: your words will not change what must come to pass. There is no use in crying over spilled milk."
He withdrew the staff slowly, allowing Haneul's head to drop back toward the floor. The weight of the air remained, pressing into his back like the hand of death itself.
Seojun's serious gaze remained fixed upon him, cold, waiting to hear whatever desperate plea Haneul could still find.
Haneul's breath rattled inside his chest as though his lungs had been packed with stones.
His vision swam, barely able to focus through the storm of tears and terror that clouded his eyes, but he forced himself to speak, his voice a broken whisper scraping from a throat raw with desperation.
"P-please… Seojun… Park Seojun…" He dared to say the name again, hoping, praying, that calling him a man, not a god, might reach whatever sliver of humanity was buried beneath those unblinking golden eyes. "Take me instead… use me… I'll do anything you want, just let him go. Please… he's just a child. He doesn't deserve this at this early age."
Seojun's lips barely twitched, the smallest shadow of something like amusement cutting across his otherwise frozen face. "You beg as though this is some negotiation," he murmured, his voice silk-wrapped venom. "It's as though you possess anything I desire."
The chains along his sleeves swayed softly as he shifted his weight forward, boots creaking on the warped floorboards, his towering frame drawing closer until Haneul could feel the man's cold breath touch his skin.
The faint violet aura around Seojun's hands pulsed in slow rhythm, like a second heartbeat just beneath his flesh.
Behind them, Hyeonjae had fallen silent. His earlier smugness was gone now, replaced by a still tension, his back straight against the wall, eyes flicking nervously between Seojun and Haneul. Even he dared not interrupt.
"Can you offer your own life?" Seojun continued, his voice now little more than a hiss. "Your existence holds no value to me since a vessel that has shattered is of no use." His gaze sharpened like a knife slipping into exposed flesh. "But the boy, he is untouched. Pure. The weight of pain has yet to mold him. And thus, his worth far exceeds yours."
Haneul's head bowed again, pressing hard into the rotting wood, his nails biting into his palms until they split and bled. "Then… let me serve you," he rasped, his voice a raw whimper. "I'll serve you and be your instrument, your hands, your eyes, whatever you command. I'll be your dog. Just… let him live."
Seojun's brow lowered, casting shadows across his sharp, inhuman features. The chains whispered again as his hands shifted, one reaching forward, fingers long and precise, gently lifting Haneul's chin once more.
For several breaths, he stared directly into Haneul's swollen, tear-filled eyes.
"You would offer yourself as my servant," Seojun whispered slowly, almost contemplative, though the power behind his words threatened to crush Haneul's spirit entirely. "And what makes you believe you are worthy of serving me?"
His fingers tightened slightly under Haneul's jaw, forcing his gaze upward until he couldn't look away. The golden irises filled his entire vision, spinning.
"Because I have nothing left," Haneul gasped. "Nothing except him."
A long silence followed. The weight of the house itself seemed to hold its breath.
Finally, Seojun released his grip, letting Haneul collapse back into a heap on the floor. His boots stepped back slowly, his face unreadable, his golden eyes narrowing to slits as he studied the man groveling before him.
"Your desperation is… amusing indeed." His voice was even, low, and predatory. "Very well. I will not break the child. Not yet. Not this time around."
The words pierced Haneul's chest like blades of cold iron, but before he could speak again, Seojun's hand lifted slightly, a single finger raised as a silent command.
"But hear me well, Haneul," he continued, voice sharper now, as though laced with invisible wires. "You have no bargaining power. This reprieve is not mercy; it is delay. His fate still belongs to me. Should you fail my patience even once, I will strip both of you bare."
The violet light pulsed behind him once more, soft waves of unnatural heat washing through the room.
"And you will serve," Seojun whispered, the edge of his mouth curling into the faintest, coldest smile. "Not because I need you. But because I enjoy watching you suffer."
Behind them, Hyeonjae stood stiff as a corpse, hands clasped behind his back, eyes lowered like a loyal subordinate too afraid to speak in the presence of his master. His earlier confidence had withered, replaced by something dangerously close to reverence and fear.
Seojun turned his eyes toward him briefly.
"Hyeonjae. Take the boy."
"Yes." Hyeonjae's voice was tight, his movements precise as he moved toward Taejun's unconscious form, carefully lifting him into his arms.
Seojun's gaze never left Haneul as he took a single step back, allowing the scene to unfold under his watchful eyes. The gold of his irises gleamed like dying suns beneath the flickering lights.
Then, in a voice colder than death itself, he added one final warning: "You will follow. And you will obey."