"Everyone has memories... moments they wish they could live in forever. I do not. All I have... is pain."
The world around him was muffled with grief. A storm of sorrow swept through the house like a haunting breeze. People cried—old women sobbing into their wrappers, men holding their heads in disbelief, children confused by the silence that had replaced joy. But Divine stood frozen, still, barely breathing.
His heart beat furiously in his chest as he stared at the countless tearful faces in his home.
They said his father, Sohwo, was dead.
But Divine's heart refused to accept it. He clutched his chest tightly as if holding it together would somehow stop it from shattering. His eyes scanned the dim room—the air heavy with incense and mourning. His mother wept uncontrollably in a corner, heavily pregnant, surrounded by women who tried in vain to comfort her.
"I wish I had saved him... maybe my life wouldn't have become so terrible."
Divine whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Suddenly, a flash of memory struck him like lightning.
---
Flashback: Before the Tragedy
"Son, I know you're angry that I didn't let you come to the field today," Sohwo said, crouching down and placing his warm hand on Divine's shoulder.
Divine, eyes full of frustration, muttered, "You always say that... next time."
"I left you behind to protect your mother," Sohwo replied softly. "You see how happy she is? Don't let that smile fade. Be her strength when I'm not around. I'll be back, I promise."
The memory faded with his father's departing figure, smiling in the afternoon sun.
Back in the present, Divine whispered bitterly, "You lied... You didn't come back."
The news of Sohwo's death struck like thunder. His mother collapsed into tears, and Divine watched in silence as the adults around him wept and wailed.
Some said, "Sohwo was a good man!" Others screamed, "Why did he have to die?!"
Divine remained still. His little sisters, too young to understand, slept peacefully in a corner. His aunt, face swollen from crying, gently led Divine to bed.
"Get some rest, Divine," she said. "Sleep... and when you wake, you might see your father again."
She smiled, but Divine saw through it. That smile was broken.
He lay down, restless, questions clawing at his young mind. That night, sleep didn't come easily. Not when he felt something... wrong.
Then—
A scream pierced the night.
He shot up from bed, heart racing. The scream came from the kitchen side. Curious and alarmed, he tiptoed across the hall, ignoring his aunt's warning not to leave the room.
He opened the kitchen door slowly. Darkness.
Then, he saw it.
A man—or what used to be a man—was crouched over something... eating.
"Hello?" Divine called out, his voice trembling.
The figure turned. Red eyes glowing. Flames flickered around its limbs. It grinned with blood-stained teeth.
Then it spoke, in a hoarse, terrible voice:
"Sohwo's son... I've found you."
It dashed forward.
Before Divine could react, the creature punched him hard—sending him crashing through the kitchen door. Wood splintered, pain surged through his chest.
He tried to rise, limbs trembling.
Another punch sent him into darkness.
As he passed out, images flashed in his mind—fire, screaming, shadows fighting in chaos. The world was ending inside his head.
---
Morning
Divine awoke to the soft voice of Sharon, his younger sister.
"Are you okay?" she asked gently.
He nodded slowly. Bandages wrapped his arms and torso. Sharon frowned.
"Do you know Mom almost died when you fainted in the kitchen? Dad just died and now you want to follow him?!"
Women entered the room, smiles breaking their worried faces when they saw him awake. His aunt hushed their questions, helping Divine sit up.
Maria came in, carrying some medicine.
"Here," she said, handing him the pills. "You had us worried."
She waited as he swallowed them.
Then, gently, she asked, "Divine... what really happened last night?"
He hesitated. "I saw something... something frightening."
Before she could ask more, an elder called her. "Maria! The funeral meeting—it's starting."
She gave Divine a small smile and left.
Divine stood shakily. Something felt off.
He crept to the kitchen. The door—it wasn't broken. No blood. No sign of attack.
"Was it all a dream...?" he whispered. "No... my body still hurts like I was hit."
He walked outside, eyes scanning the courtyard.
A hand gripped his shoulder. He turned, startled.
A tall man with silver hair and an eye patch stood calmly behind him.
"You should rest, Divine," he said. "I came to console your mother."
Divine nodded slowly. They returned inside, where mourners filled the house.
His mother was surrounded, still crying. The man watched quietly, then turned to Divine.
"You blame yourself. Don't. It wasn't your fault."
"Did you know my dad?" Divine asked.
"Yes. I'm Joseph Rin, an old friend."
Divine frowned. "I've never seen you."
"I come and go."
His aunt suddenly entered, glaring.
"Who are you talking to, Divine? You've been talking to yourself since morning."
He pointed beside him. "He's right here. Joseph Rin."
His aunt looked—nothing.
"There's no one, Divine. Get some rest."
She walked away, worried.
Divine turned, heart racing. "Why can't she see you?"
Joseph Rin smiled. "Because I modified my form. Only those chosen can see me."
Divine stepped back in fear.
"Who... what are you?"
Joseph Rin's smile faded.
"We are the Defenders. We come from the Sin World.