Han rose from the chair and moved toward the door. He tested the handle, but it didn’t budge. A faint metallic clank confirmed his suspicion that the agents had locked him inside.
He exhaled in frustration, but he quickly composed himself. Being trapped in a room by bureaucratic lackeys was hardly the worst predicament he had faced. He surveyed the small space and the cold concrete walls.
With no immediate escape route and his body screaming for rest, Han decided to bide his time. He lay down on the hard floor, letting its chill seep into his muscles as he closed his eyes.
"First, I’ll recover my strength. Then I’ll tear this puny building apart." Han thought.
Because of the accumulated fatigue, he fell into a deep slumber almost instantly.
But instead of descending into the usual black void of sleep, Han found himself in a vivid dream.
He was lying on the surface of a tranquil lake, which stretched endlessly to the horizon. The sky above was bright blue with no sun or clouds in sight. Strangely, the air was somewhat stale.
Han sat up. He looked around, confused.
"What is this place?"
As he looked down at the water, his reflection stared back, but it wasn’t his face.
The reflection in the water belonged to a middle-aged Westerner with sharp features, deep-set eyes, and a trimmed beard. The figure wore an opulent golden tunic and a regal cloak lined with fur. A magnificent jeweled crown rested on his head, glinting with an otherworldly light.
Han blinked in disbelief. He waved a hand, and the figure in the water mimicked the movement perfectly.
"This is... me?"
The reflection didn’t answer as it was his shadow.
Han sighed and let out a wry chuckle, realizing he was dreaming. "Figures. A king in a dream. Why not?"
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something significant about the figure staring back at him.
"Where am I?"
The reflection in the water suddenly smiled. Then, as though the lake itself had been waiting for his question, the surface began to ripple. The water beneath Han’s feet darkened, and an image began to form in its depths.
A grand palace appeared, surrounded by endless fields of lush green and a lively city. At the palace gates stood a massive army clad in gleaming armor, and their banners fluttered in the wind. At the center of it all was the man from Han’s reflection, sitting on a golden throne. His stern eyes seemed to lock onto Han.
A deep voice echoed around Han, though he couldn’t tell if it came from the reflection or the lake itself.
Strangely, unfamiliar memories flooded Han’s mind. Slowly, they pieced themselves together, revealing fragments of a life he had never known yet felt deeply connected to.
Han murmured in disbelief.
"…King Ban… of the Sword Soul Kingdom? Wait... that day… leading my troops to Bone Mountain… meeting the 72 demon kings... What?"
The words left his mouth before he could fully grasp their meaning. He tilted his head unable to think straight. Yet, the memories continued to flow like an unstoppable torrent.
The scene in his mind shifted.
It was the grand army of King Ban, marching through the desolate lands of a fallen demon overlord. The troops halted in front of an ancient mausoleum, which was the rumored resting place of the overlord, protected by an infamous powerful gargoyle who had slaughtered countless humans and demons alike to ensure that his creator would never be undisturbed.
King Ban’s ministers and aides surrounded him, voicing a debate. They urged him to seize the opportunity to plunder the tomb, claiming the riches and forbidden artifacts within could bolster their kingdom’s strength. But Ban stood firm and disagreed as the gargoyle lord was their ally in this campaign.
Unfortunately, that night, betrayal struck. One of the generals, a trusted figure in Ban’s ranks, crept into his tent under the veil of darkness. This man was a henchman of the Lich King, disguised as one of his generals. He ended Ban’s life with a dagger to the heart.
After that, the spy disguised into Ban. Now wearing Ban’s face, he led the army to raid the mausoleum. While the guardian of the tomb was preoccupied with the Lich King’s forces at Bone Mountain, the imposter looted the treasures, leaving behind deliberate evidence that pointed to the Sword Soul Kingdom.
Ban’s soul lingered, bound to the mortal realm by an overwhelming sense of injustice. He watched helplessly as the traitor ransacked the mausoleum and transported its treasures to the Lich King.
Days later, the guardian of the mausoleum returned. The gargoyle, Demon Lord Pebble, surveyed the desecrated dummy tomb, where he kept unimportant treasures. To Ban’s shock, the gargoyle could see his spirit. Their gazes met, and the demon spoke in a voice that carried both sorrow and anger.
"I see. You were betrayed as well… Lich King’s cunning knows no bounds. To think he would use mimics against humans… Very well. I won’t blame it on your kingdom. Instead, I’ll find and kill that traitor for you. But for now, I shall send your soul to the Mother Tree. Rest in peace. I will handle the rest."
Ban, however, was far from at peace. He tried to resist. But the gargoyle lord extended a hand, absorbing Ban’s Aether and sending him to the afterlife.
Darkness enveloped him.
For years, there was nothing. Then, a distant light pierced the void. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer the warrior king. He was an infant, cradled in the arms of a woman on Earth.
That child was Han.
The revelation stunned Han. He was speechless.
More memories poured in. He remembered the faces of his loyal soldiers, the scheming ministers, and the treacherous General Black who had stolen everything from him.
"This dream is wild!" Han laughed, but tears welled up in Han’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks. Regret consumed him as he thought of the kingdom he had failed to protect, the people he had let down, and the betrayal that had ended his reign.
Han got emotional and whimpered, "If only…If only I could turn back time… I would make them pay. The Lich King, those wretched traitors, General Black... I would make them all suffer!"
As his rage and sorrow swirled within him, the dreamscape began to shift again. The tranquil lake disappeared, replaced by an empty, blue sky. A radiant being, enveloped in a blinding golden light, descended from above.
It was an angel, clad in golden plate armor that gleamed like the sun. Yet, its face was obscured, shrouded in impenetrable darkness.
Han’s breath caught in his throat as the angel hovered before him. Its resonating voice echoed in his mind.
"King Ban Lott… Han Yunho…Your journey is far from over. Fate has intertwined your past and present, and the choices you make now will shape the destiny of many."
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Han stared at the angel in awe. The rage in his chest subsided, replaced by respect and fear.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?"
The angel’s response was as cryptic as it was profound.
"Justice."
And with that single word, the dream shattered, and Han woke up. His entire body was covered in cold sweat and black goo.
Despite being stuck in a dark room, Han’s eyes glowed in red light, and he could see everything in the dark, but all objects had a thick overlay shade of red.
Han blinked several times, shocked by the changes in his perception. A moment later, the memory of his dream came back, and his old muscle memory reacted. Han stood up and put his hand on the table.
"Souls of steel, heed my command…"
The metal table deformed and transformed into a crimson broadsword, but it radiated crimson light as if it had turned into a photon blade or a lightsaber. Han, still being absentminded, glanced around the room. He muttered to himself.
"Aether and spirits, souls of all swords, heed my command…"
The entire FBI facility trembled as metallic objects reacted to Han’s voice. Steel frames, tables, furniture, and every object that contained iron, steel, or natural mineral floated as if they were attracted by a strong magnet. But a second later, everything shattered and transformed into red dust, which flew through obstacles and walls.
In seconds, strong Aether, made from natural minerals, flocked around Han. He extended his left arm, and the crimson dust gathered on his skin. Red marks gradually appeared, blessing Han with Aether.
That was not the end. The armored angel from his dream materialized behind Han and placed his hand on his shoulder. He whispered.
"For peace, Aether, and justice…"
Han’s eyes burned with a passion. He didn’t need the angel to encourage him as he knew what to do.
The Aether injection ritual ended. Han glanced at his left arm and roughly counted the red marks. About 2,500 Aether marks were with him, but he could easily gather more by consuming minerals and iron from buildings.
Just as Han was about to break out of the place, the FBI headquarters collapsed on top of Han, who snorted at the falling ceiling. Kicking the ground, he jumped up, and his body pierced through the falling concrete blocks.
Upon coming out of the collapsing building, Han landed on top of the fallen structure. His burning eyes turned northeast, where the nearest nuclear bunker was located.
.
.
After securing an emergency hideout, Carn sent Gawain, Rosa, and Merlin to camp in the empty villa and observe the cartel mansion for the time being. As for Wong and himself, he would stay in Gwen’s house for a little longer.
Another day silently passed. Coincidentally, it was the day that Gwen and Wong had been waiting for.
It was the day when one of the lottery companies would announce the result.