Darkness.

  Not the kind that simply fills the eyes, but one that pressed into Juwon’s ribs, heavy and suffocating. His body floated between pain and numbness, his ears ringing with phantom echoes—until a voice cut through.

  “Targets sighted—engage all units. No one gets out of that forest alive!”

  Juwon’s eyelids twitched.

  Then—nothing.

  His eyes closed....

  Leaves scraped across his spine. Roots tugged at his sleeves. Every bump, every bend of the forest floor kissed bruises already forming.

  He was being dragged.

  Something—someone—was pulling him through the forest. A low growl, not feral but… exhausted, hummed in the distance. His head lolled sideways.

  His eyes fluttered open.

  Just barely.

  Moonlight caught on a massive silhouette ahead. Towering, hunched, moving with purpose. A long limb gripped Juwon’s pants. The creature’s hide shimmered under moonlight—shaggy, dark, flecked with dirt.

  Then it turned.

  Just for a moment.

  One eye glowed bright blue. The other… was sealed shut, a deep scar carved down its lid.

  Juwon’s lips parted. A whisper.

  “...the hell?”

  His vision swam, shadows growing deeper at the edges. A heavy wave of unconsciousness surged through him, and the glimmer of moonlight faded into a suffocating blur.

  The world slipped away once more.

  Crackling flames. Low voices. Laughter? Creaks of wood. The scent of cooked herbs.

  He saw the blur of a fire.

  He heard people. People? he thought to himself.

  He tried to speak, but no sound left his throat. His vision dimmed again, shadows washing over the light.

  Hay.

  The prickle of straw pressed against his cheek. A thin blanket was tucked loosely around him.

  This time, he woke properly.

  His body felt like glass glued together with sweat and instinct. He groaned, pushing himself upright. The room was dim—lit by a small oil lamp and the dying glow of coals.

  He was in a hut.

  Wooden beams. Rough-cut walls. Dried herbs strung from the rafters. Something about it all felt… ancient. Real.

  He rubbed his eyes, still groggy.

  A sound broke the silence.

  Creak.

  He turned.

  A boy stood at the doorway, framed by silver moonlight. Maybe ten years old. Wide golden-brown eyes, messy chestnut hair tied with a leather string. His tunic was loose, patched up at the elbows. Around his neck hung a necklace made of what looked like… beast teeth?

  The boy tilted his head. "You sure wake up slow, mister. What, did you fight a mountain or something?"

  Juwon blinked.

  The boy grinned wider. "Nah, wait. A hill, maybe. You don't look like someone who won."

  Juwon opened his mouth. Closed it. Then rasped, "I... might've. I don't remember."

  "Figures," the kid said, stepping inside. He dropped a small clay cup in Juwon’s hands. "Drink. It’s warm root broth. Old lady Mira says it helps make your brain less stupid."

  Juwon sipped. It tasted like burnt wood and moss—but it warmed him instantly.

  He eyed the boy. “What’s your name, kid?”

  “Zhen Zian!” he said proudly. “I’m ten and a half. And you’re welcome, by the way. For not dying.”

  “…Thanks,” Juwon muttered. “Seo Juwon.”

  Zian gave a mock salute. "Welcome to Mangtian Village, Mister Juwon. Don’t worry, we don’t eat people. Anymore."

  Juwon raised a brow.

  Zian snorted. “Kidding! Geez. Your face. We’re a peaceful tribe. Mostly.”

  Juwon tilted his head. Something clicked in the back of his mind. “Mangtian… wait. Do you know the Miao tribe?”

  Zian brightened. “Of course! Mangtian’s one of their sub-branches. Why?”

  Juwon stared at the wall, a memory stirring. “I once saw a Miao Drum Dance. They spoke of a shaman… and a dragon…”

  Zian blinked, curious. “Sounds like one of our older stories. You really know that stuff?”

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  “I’m an archaeologist,” Juwon muttered, sipping again.

  The warmth of the broth dulled his pain, but another question rose.

  “The thing that brought me here,” he said suddenly. “That wasn’t human, was it?”

  Zian’s grin returned. “You wanna meet him?”

  “…Meet?”

  Zian pulled a whistle from his pocket. Made of bone, carved with swirling runes. He winked, put it to his lips, and blew.

  A shrill, piercing note echoed into the forest.

  Silence.

  Then—

  BOOM.

  The hut trembled. The ground shook. Pots clinked. Dust rained from the ceiling.

  Juwon lurched up, instincts kicking in. He stood in front of Zian, arms raised defensively. “Get back!”

  But Zian calmly stepped around him.

  He faced the door.

  And smirked. "Don’t worry, mister. He’s with me."

  CRASH.

  The door burst open.

  Moonlight flooded the room.

  And there—framed against the silver glow—loomed a monstrous silhouette, fur coarse and bristled, caked with dried mud. One curved horn jutted sharply from its brow, and a single glowing blue eye shimmered like ice beneath the moon. Its massive frame exhaled a slow, foggy breath, primal and deliberate, as it stared directly at them—half-seen, yet wholly undeniable.

  Its other eye sealed shut by a jagged scar.

  A low rumble echoed in its chest as it stepped forward.

  Only its shadow crossed the floor.

  The monstrous silhouette remained frozen in the doorway. Then, with a loud snort, it bounded into the hut like an avalanche with hooves. Juwon instinctively tried to roll away, only for a giant, wet tongue to slap across his cheek.

  "Agh—what the hell—?!"

  The beast—towering, fur-covered, and unmistakably a giant boar—grunted in delight and licked Juwon again. And again. Each lick felt like being hit with a soggy mop.

  Zian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smug. “His name’s Mogu. He likes you.”

  “Likes me? He’s trying to marinate me,” Juwon coughed, swiping at his face. “Tell him to stop!”

  “Mogu, stop licking him!” Zian called casually. Mogu obeyed… barely, snorting as he flopped to the floor beside Juwon with a satisfied grunt, his giant body thudding like a sack of bricks.

  Zian beamed. “He’s never this friendly. Must be fate.”

  Zian wiped Mogu’s slobber off Juwon’s shoulder with his sleeve and stepped toward the door.

  “Alright, get up,” he said with finality. “You’re coming to my aunt’s place. She’s not around, and you’re too banged up to argue.”

  Juwon blinked, still groggy, wiping at the remaining streaks of boar drool. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope.”

  “...Thought so.”

  By the time they stepped outside the hut, the village was cloaked in pale moonlight. Thatched homes dotted the hillside, lanterns flickering gently in the night breeze. Villagers peeked from behind curtains and half-closed doors.

  As Juwon limped beside Zian, he noticed it—the whispers.

  “...That’s him again.” “...When will the beast leave?”

  Juwon sighed. “Well, I am a stranger. Can’t blame them.”

  Zian snorted. “They’re not staring at you, genius.”

  Juwon blinked. “What?”

  “They’re staring at me. Me and Mogu.”

  Juwon glanced behind them. Mogu waddled after them, each step shaking the earth slightly. His one blue eye glowed faintly.

  “They think I’m cursed,” Zian added with a shrug. “Or possessed. Or both. Depends who you ask.”

  Juwon looked sideways at him. “Are you?”

  Zian grinned. “Probably not.”

  They arrived at a modest two-room hut tucked near the base of a tall cedar tree.

  “My aunt’s place,” Zian said, pushing the door open. “She’s off in the next village for trade. So it’s just us.”

  Mogu grunted and plopped down at the doorstep like a loyal guardian.

  Inside, Juwon sat near a low wooden table as Zian lit a small oil lamp and began rummaging through clay pots. Soon, he handed Juwon a bowl of steaming rice and earthy stew.

  Juwon took a bite of the stew, chewing slowly, his curiosity overcoming his fatigue. “Alright, kid,” he said, gesturing with his chopsticks. “What’s the story with you and that oversized mud mop?”

  Zian, mid-blow on his own bowl, grinned. “Mogu? Found him when I was a little squirt. Barely breathing, missing an eye. Just lying there at the mouth of some creepy cave up in the mountains.”

  Juwon raised an eyebrow. “That scar of his…?”

  Zian nodded. “Yeah. Heard something roaring inside the cave. Big. Ugly. Never saw it, but I grabbed the piglet and booked it down the hill like a runaway dumpling.”

  Juwon blinked, then leaned in. “You stole a monster’s baby boar?”

  Zian gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I was five! It's called rescue. Big difference.”

  Juwon snorted into his rice. “That’s what all the best thieves say.”

  “Seriously, though, things started getting all weird after a while” Zian said, suddenly softer. “My dad used to meditate every morning. Taught me how before he passed. I guess I just… kept doing it. Mogu liked sitting with me. Quiet. Breathing.”

  “And then?”

  “Then he started copying me. Like, actually. Breathing rhythm. It was like we were syncing up.” He tapped the side of his head. “These days, I just think something—and he gets it. No commands, no whistles. no clicks. .”

  Juwon tilted his head, watching the boy. “You’re telling me you and that beast communicate telepathically?”

  Zian paused, then shrugged. “I mean, that’s a fancier way of putting it, but yeah.”

  “That’s… not normal.”

  Zian grinned and lifted his bowl. “Neither is bonding with a boar the size of a wagon, or surviving with half your ribs snapped. But here we are.” He took another bite and spoke around his mouthful. “At first, it was amazing. Everyone loved Mogu. He’d chase off wolves and wildcats that came for the cattle, even help plow the fields. Helped old grannies carry water. Carried kids on his back. He was our mascot.”

  Juwon, curious now, paused with a spoon halfway to his mouth. “Then what changed?”

  Zian’s expression dimmed.

  “One day, a wolf came,” he said quietly. “Not a normal one. It had eyes like dying suns—glowing red, wild with bloodlust. It came right into the village during a festival. The kids were out playing.”

  He swallowed hard. “Mogu didn’t hesitate. He charged. Fought it like… like something out of a nightmare. He pinned it down, stepped on its ribs, then drove his horn through its skull.”

  Juwon sat back, slowly setting his bowl down.

  Zian’s voice cracked. “He tore it apart. Protected us. Saved the children. But after that… the villagers couldn’t unsee it. The blood, the fury in his eyes.”

  His fingers curled slightly around his bowl. “Now they call him a beast. They throw stones when he walks past. Whisper that he’s cursed.”

  Zian looked up, his eyes glassy but defiant. “He was only trying to help.”

  A silence passed between them, filled only by the soft clink of wooden bowls. Outside, the faint night breeze stirred the hanging herbs.

  Juwon let out a short breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. “You know,” he murmured, “I’ve seen a lot of monsters. Mogu doesn’t make the list.”

  Zian gave a small, grateful smile but said nothing.

  They ate in silence for a moment, each lost in thought. Then, with a spoon still in hand, Juwon spoke again, his voice more cautious.

  “Hey… when you found me in the forest, was I alone?”

  Zian’s grin faded. He shook his head. “Just you. Not a soul in sight.”

  Juwon set his bowl down. His eyes darkened.

  “Then where the hell are they…”

  A low rumble echoed in the distance.

  Then—screeching tires. Breaking branches. Cries.

  Juwon bolted upright.

  “Cars.”

  Zian ran to the window. “From the woods!”

  Juwon dashed outside just in time to see a jeep—mud-splattered and smoking—crash through the treeline and slam into a nearby tree.

  “YUXIAN!”

  He sprinted toward it as doors flung open. Yunfei stumbled out, dragging a barely conscious Xueling. "Hes been shot"

  Inside—Yuxian, pale, clutching his thigh. Blood soaked his pants.

  Zian screamed for help. Mogu roared.

  Villagers rushed out in confusion. Doors opened. Torches flared.

  Juwon helped drag Yuxian to the hut. The floor darkened with blood.

  “They followed us, too many of them” Yunfei rasped. “We lost them… for now.”

  Later, they all sat inside the quiet hut. Yuxian groaned softly. Xueling rested, eyes shut. Yunfei munched on rice with one hand, bruised and battered.

  Zian placed bowls in front of everyone.

  Juwon sat by the window, eyes scanning the dark.

  Behind him, Mogu snored peacefully.

  Outside, the night felt too still.

  Hey everyone,

  always wanted to write sci-fi, right? But there was a catch. I was never really into the whole hard sci-fi thing — the kind that dives so deep into scientific mechanics it feels like reading a physics textbook. Nothing wrong with that, but honestly? It gets dull for me after a point.

  GOTO, I’ve been quietly doing the R&D for this new sci-fi project. Bit by bit, piece by piece.

  The Lattice: Ascendance

  Hope you give it a shot. And if you do, I’d love to know what you think.