Seori
The Demon Gate
The veil tore open with a hiss.
One moment, we were standing at the edge of the mortal realm, the air still heavy with ash and heartbreak. The next, the world split at the seams, and a dark wind screamed through the opening like a beast set free.
I didn’t flinch.
Taeyang stepped through first, his silhouette swallowed by shadow. Jisoo held the tear open, his fingers glowing faintly with corrupted angelic runes, eyes flicking toward me once. A silent nod. Then I followed.
And the world changed. My boots hit scorched stone.
Heat pulsed up from the blackened earth like a living thing, tasting my skin, testing me.
The sky overhead was bruised red, streaked with veins of lightning that danced like serpents.
It smelled of iron and ash and something older—the scent of rage that had never been soothed.
The Demon Realm.
It was beautiful in the most terrifying way.
Mountains hung in midair, suspended by dark magic.
Rivers of fire carved through canyons shaped like gaping jaws.
Cities twisted upward like spires of bone and obsidian, lit by orbs that pulsed with soul-light.
Everything bled menace. Everything breathed hunger.
But the strange thing… was that I felt nothing.
No nausea. No choking. No fear clawing up my throat like the books described. The miasma of the Demon Realm was supposed to overwhelm mortals, crack their minds like glass under a hammer. And yet… I stood still. Breathing. Steady.
I felt the weight of it, sure. Like a great silence pressing against my bones. But it didn’t hurt me. It almost… welcomed me. From ahead, Taeyang slowed. His dark eyes scanned me once, sharply. Then again.
I caught it.
The flicker of confusion.
Jisoo appeared at my side. I could feel the subtle pause in his breath. His gaze burned into the side of my face.
“What?” I asked, voice flat.
“Nothing,” he said. Too quickly.
They didn’t say what they were thinking. But I saw it. The wariness. The unspoken question lingering between them.
Why isn’t she affected?
I turned from them and kept walking.
The ground cracked beneath each step, glowing faintly with runes I didn’t recognize. Or maybe… I did. Somewhere deep, in a part of me I hadn’t yet named. The symbols felt familiar. As if they belonged to my blood.
A spire loomed ahead—Rheon’s family fortress, according to Jisoo. Or what remained of it.
The once-magnificent gates were scorched black, half-melted by the fire that had devoured the palace six centuries ago. Pillars collapsed into ruin. Shadows whispered through the stones, hungry and watching.
“He burned it down himself,” Jisoo said, voice low. “The day the curse was cast.”
I didn’t ask why.
I already knew.
This was the place where Rheon had once stood with love in his hands—and lost it all to a king who demanded blood over choice.
My fingers brushed the mating mark on my chest, hidden beneath layers of fabric. It pulsed in quiet response, as if aware of the soil beneath me.
Jisoo stepped ahead to lead. Taeyang fell into pace beside me. His silence was heavier than usual. I glanced sideways.
“Still think I’m not meant to be here?” I asked.
He didn’t answer. But his jaw clenched.
Ahead, the wind shifted.
The sky above the ruined fortress tore open briefly, revealing the full blood moon beyond the veil—a rare alignment.
The moment we passed through the blackened gates, the temperature dropped. Power thickened the air like a mist, wrapping around my limbs, curling into my lungs. Still—no sickness. No burning. My heart didn’t race. Instead, I felt grounded.
Whole.
As if I was standing not in enemy territory, but home.
Taeyang and Jisoo both slowed as we stepped into the hollowed-out throne room. Shattered bones were fused into the floor. The throne—Rheon’s father’s seat—was nothing but melted gold and ember.
And beneath it, sealed under centuries of magic, was the vault.
“That’s where the curse was tied,” Jisoo said. “We need to break it.”
“And you think I can?” I asked quietly.
He turned to look at me. And for once, there was no mocking grin. No smug tilt of his brow.
“I think you were never supposed to be just a hunter,” he said.
I stepped forward.
Toward the fire. Toward the truth.
Toward the beginning of everything.