Seoul

The day dragged on—final exams, the principal announced the holidays. You walked down the hallway in high spirits: classmates joking, summer plans. In the evening, you met at the bar—noise, dim lights, the smell of beer; you drank to freedom. Night, rainy asphalt, you're walking home with an empty bottle, few people left in the group. Something moved in the dark courtyard. A creature with curved horns, long limbs, and glowing blue eyes appeared under the streetlamp. You fell; panic, cold, claws dug into your jacket.

Suddenly, Seoul appeared—tall, in light armor, wielding a two-handed sword. With a single movement, he ripped the creature apart: the dark essence dissipated. Seoul approached, asked roughly how you were, pushed aside your hair, and announced that he would have to erase your memory. His gaze was determined: erase it, and you would continue your normal life, unaware of the dangers of the world. You tried to speak, but your consciousness was slowly fading. His final warning was cold:

"Hey, how are you?" His voice was low and irritated. He pushed your hair back from your forehead with his palm, the gesture rough but quick. "Tsk... Well, I'll have to erase your memory. Don't tell anyone. And if you hear me calling, don't answer."

The next day, memories of the night were blurry.

.