Seung-Jin stood at the precipice of destruction.
The world had broken again. The once-comforting glow of the Gyeonggi-do Mirror now radiated with an ominous crackling energy. It had shattered his perception of time, sending him spiraling through realities—each a reflection of the past, a reflection of a future he was destined to confront. His heart pounded, not just with the fear of the unknown but with the burning resolve that had ignited within him.
He was not just traveling through timelines; he was fighting against fate itself. Every world he entered, every reality he touched, felt like a trap designed to slowly pull him deeper into a web woven by forces he could scarcely comprehend. But there was something more—an undeniable
force driving him forward. It was no longer a question of whether he could stop the inevitable—it was a question of how much he was willing to sacrifice to do so.
He had seen his future. He had seen what Yeon-Hwa had become, and what he could become. But he would not succumb. He would not bow to destiny. He would forge his own path, no matter how many timelines it took.
1. Gaeseong, Goryeo Dynasty – 936 AD
(Retro Futuristic Era of Ancient Power)
The Goryeo Dynasty was a strange paradox—a land steeped in tradition yet brimming with technological marvels. Seung-Jin felt like a traveler lost in time, overwhelmed by the steam-powered machines, clockwork soldiers, and the towering mechanical golems that walked among men. His presence here felt like an anomaly, yet something deeper in him urged him to act, to try and change the course of history.
It was amidst this ancient yet futuristic world that he met Jin-Ho, a man whose wisdom and insight seemed far beyond his years. A military strategist, Jin-Ho commanded the respect of everyone around him, but his eyes held something else—something Seung-Jin quickly recognized: the same burning desire to make a difference. They weren't so different after all.
Jin-Ho was a quiet figure, observant, calculating. The first time Seung-Jin encountered him was on the battlefield, where Jin-Ho was leading a charge against invaders. The air was thick with tension as the mechanical war machines rumbled, but Jin-Ho was calm, moving with the precision of someone who had already seen this play out a thousand times.
"Seung-Jin," Jin-Ho said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You're not from this time, are you?" His eyes were sharp, reading Seung-Jin like an open book. It wasn't an accusation, just a statement.
Seung-Jin, who had been trying to disguise his origins, found no point in denying it. "No, I'm not. But I believe I can help."
Jin-Ho's expression softened for a moment, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. "I don't know if you can, but I've seen many men with that same belief. Let's see if your actions match your words."
Over time, Seung-Jin and Jin-Ho's paths intertwined more and more. They fought side by side, facing countless dangers together. Despite the immense technological differences between their worlds, they quickly became allies, and as their friendship grew, so did their shared understanding of the world around them. They were both outsiders in this timeline, but they found common ground in their desire to bring change.
Jin-Ho taught Seung-Jin the value of strategy—not just in warfare, but in life. "Sometimes the smallest gesture can shift the balance," he would say. "But beware, Seung-Jin. There are costs to every action." He spoke with a wisdom that felt timeless, as though he had witnessed the rise and fall of countless kingdoms.
But as Seung-Jin tried to use his knowledge to alter key moments in history, Jin-Ho became more cautious. He saw the danger in Seung-Jin's attempts to force fate.
"You cannot force time, Seung-Jin," Jin-Ho would tell him late at night, as they sat beneath the light of flickering lanterns. "The more you push, the more it pushes back. History has a way of balancing itself out."
Seung-Jin, however, was relentless. Every time he tried to change the future, he found himself facing new challenges, new consequences. Yet Jin-Ho never judged him for it. Instead, he stood by him, offering counsel, support, and—most importantly—friendship.
One evening, after a particularly difficult battle, Seung-Jin found himself walking through the streets of Gaeseong, troubled by the weight of the changes he had set in motion. Jin-Ho joined him, his steps quiet but firm beside Seung-Jin's.
"Do you ever wonder if it's all worth it?" Seung-Jin asked, his voice low, filled with doubt. "Every time I think I've made a difference, it feels like I'm only creating more chaos."
Jin-Ho didn't immediately respond. Instead, he gazed up at the stars, a peaceful calm in his demeanor. "Change is never clean, Seung-Jin. It's messy, uncertain. But it's the price we pay for progress."
Seung-Jin turned to him, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and hope. "Then why do I feel like I'm on the wrong path? Like I'm unraveling everything?"
Jin-Ho finally looked at him, his expression unreadable but his voice steady. "Because, my friend, the path we walk is never as clear as we want it to be. But we keep walking because that's all we can do. And I'll walk beside you, no matter where it leads."
For the first time since his arrival in this fractured world, Seung-Jin felt a sense of peace. It wasn't the peace of having all the answers, but the peace of knowing he wasn't alone in his journey.
As the days passed, their bond grew stronger. Seung-Jin began to rely on Jin-Ho not just for his military expertise, but for his guidance in navigating the fractured timelines. They shared a vision of changing the course of history, but Jin-Ho's caution grounded Seung-Jin's ambitions.
Still, there was always an unspoken understanding between them. Every time Seung-Jin took a step to alter fate, Jin-Ho would be there, offering a steady hand or a quiet word of warning. And though Seung-Jin would often go against his advice, he knew that Jin-Ho's friendship was the anchor that kept him from drifting too far into the abyss.
It was this bond, forged in the heat of battle and tempered with the weight of time, that would carry Seung-Jin through the darkest moments of his journey. As the mirror shattered once again, sending him spiraling into the next timeline, he felt Jin-Ho's presence linger in his mind—both a guiding light and a reminder that, no matter how far he went, he was never truly alone.
Jin-Ho's final words to him echoed in his ears as the world around him splintered and twisted: "Time may be unyielding, Seung-Jin. But it's not the end of your story. You still have a choice."
And with that, Seung-Jin was pulled into the next timeline, his heart heavy with the weight of his journey, but strengthened by the friendship that would endure across time itself.
Seoul, 2115 AD – Dystopian Future
(The Ruins of Utopia)
After the devastation in Gaeseong, Seung-Jin stumbled through the fractured timelines, feeling the Gyeonggi-do Mirror's energy tugging him into yet another world. This time, it was Seoul—but not the city he remembered. In 2115 AD, the once-thriving metropolis had turned into a crumbling shell of its former self, overtaken by a society that had eaten itself from the inside out. Technology, which had once been the beacon of progress, now stood as the prison of its people.
Seung-Jin found himself in the midst of a broken world—smog-choked skies, cracked streets, and towering buildings that seemed to collapse under their own weight. The faint glow of neon lights flickered, a remnant of a bygone era. Citizens trudged through the streets, their eyes dull, their hearts hardened by years of oppression. The vibrant pulse of Seoul was no more.
But Seung-Jin barely had time to process the devastation when the world around him shifted again. The broken mirror had opened another rift, its power now weak and fading. Before he could catch his breath, he encountered someone who seemed as out of place in this grim world as he felt.
Kira—a sharp, fearless leader, her piercing eyes scanning the horizon with a mix of determination and sorrow. She was a force in this fractured reality, a rebel with a cause, but also a woman whose own ambitions had been tested by the harshness of this dystopia. Her clothing, a blend of rugged combat gear and remnants of old-world fashion, spoke of the delicate balance between the past and the future.
Kira wasn't just a survivor; she was the leader of a resistance group fighting back against the technocratic elite who ruled over the floating city above. Her mission was to break the chains that bound the population, but her methods were often ruthless, and she didn't hesitate to make difficult decisions to achieve her goals.
Seung-Jin's first interaction with Kira was as surprising as it was enlightening. The two were at odds from the moment they met—Seung-Jin's initial idealism clashing with Kira's pragmatic, no-nonsense approach. But beneath the tension, there was an undeniable connection. Both had witnessed the fall of their worlds, both had seen the darkness that ambition and the pursuit of control could create.
"The world we live in now is a prison," Kira said, her voice like steel, her words sharp. "The rich live in the clouds, and the rest of us are left to rot below. We fight not for freedom, but for survival. And in the end, there may be nothing left to save."
Seung-Jin felt a chill run down his spine. Her words mirrored the truth he had already seen in other timelines, yet here, they held a deeper weight. Kira had been through the fire, and her spirit was not just scarred—it had been tempered.
"I didn't come here to fight," Seung-Jin said, his tone quiet but firm. "I came to fix the timeline—to undo the damage."
Kira looked at him, her expression unreadable. "You're wasting your time," she said softly, almost sadly. "The damage can't be undone. We're past that now. But you can still choose which side you're on."
As they spent more time together, Seung-Jin began to understand the complexities of Kira's world. She was no stranger to loss—her family, her comrades, her own innocence. Yet, she refused to be broken. She led with strength, but also with a quiet vulnerability that Seung-Jin could relate to in unexpected ways.
However, Kira was not the only person from Seung-Jin's past he encountered in this broken future. Jin-Ho, his older self, also crossed his path—bitter, worn down by the years of trying to change the past and unable to escape the consequences.
"Once the mirror is gone, we are left with nothing but the consequences," Jin-Ho warned, his voice low and heavy with regret. His meeting with Seung-Jin was a stark reminder of the cost of ambition, and the price of trying to control time itself.
The words haunted Seung-Jin, but Kira's steady presence reminded him that there was still hope—even in the face of insurmountable odds. She wasn't just a warrior in this world; she was a beacon for those who had nothing left to fight for, a reminder that there was more to life than the pursuit of control.
Together, Seung-Jin and Kira navigated the fractured city, moving through the ruins of old Seoul and discovering the dark secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface. They uncovered a conspiracy—one that stretched back to the origins of the mirror itself. The ruling technocrats weren't just using time for their own gain; they were manipulating reality itself to create an eternal dystopia, a world where they would never lose their grip on power.
But as they ventured deeper into the heart of the floating city, Seung-Jin realized that no matter how hard he tried to fix the timeline, it would never be the same. Kira's words echoed in his mind: "You can't change the past, Seung-Jin. You can only decide what kind of future you want to fight for."
When the mirror shattered for the final time in this timeline, Seung-Jin understood that there was no going back—not to the life he had once known, nor the innocence he had clung to. Time, once malleable, had grown rigid.
And as the timelines collapsed and the shattered pieces of the mirror scattered through the vast expanse, Seung-Jin knew that Kira had been right all along. This was the cost of their journey—the price of trying to rewrite time itself. And as he stepped forward into the next timeline, Kira's words stayed with him, a constant reminder: The only thing you can control is the future.
And in that future, Seung-Jin knew that Kira would always be a part of his story, a thread that connected all of his fractured selves.
3. Hanyang, Joseon Dynasty – 1800 AD
(The Weight of Destiny)
The mirror shattered a third time, sending Seung-Jin hurtling through time once again, but this time, it felt different. Hanyang, the heart of the Joseon Dynasty in 1800 AD, welcomed him—a city both beautiful and dangerous, its streets alive with vibrant colors but shadowed by intrigue. The air itself seemed to hum with the tension of an empire teetering on the edge. There was an elegance to the city, but beneath that, the cracks of a fragile power structure threatened to break wide open.
The sound of rustling silk and the scent of pine incense drifted through the air as Seung-Jin took in his surroundings. He had arrived in a time of great political unrest, where power was not just a game but a dangerous game played with lives. There were whispers in the markets and hidden conversations in royal chambers, where the ruling family and the officials were engaged in constant maneuvering for control. It felt like every corner, every shadow held a story—one that could change the course of history.
It was here, amidst this delicate balance, that Seung-Jin met Sung-Hye, a woman whose strength radiated in the face of the chaos surrounding them. With her dark, thoughtful eyes and armor worn from battle, she was the embodiment of resilience. A fearless protector of the kingdom, yet soft and wise when the battle ended. She was not only skilled in the ways of combat but also in the subtler arts of diplomacy and understanding. She saw Seung-Jin not as an outsider but as a soul lost within the same web of fate they both tried to untangle.
Sung-Hye's presence was calming, like a steady hand in a storm, and her words felt like a guide through the murkiness of destiny. "We are but fleeting threads in the vast web of history. We cannot outrun fate, Seung-Jin."
Seung-Jin had always believed that he could change the course of history—that through sheer will and determination, he could alter the future. But as he spent more time with Sung-Hye, he began to see that there were forces much larger than his own ambition, forces that bent time and fate in ways that no one, not even the most powerful kings, could fully control.
Their days together were filled with deep discussions of duty and honor. While Seung-Jin often struggled with the burden of his mission—changing timelines, fixing mistakes, trying to piece together the broken mirror—Sung-Hye taught him about the quieter strength in accepting one's place in history. She spoke of duty, but in a way that allowed room for humanity.
"Sometimes," she said one evening, as they watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of purple and orange, "the greatest strength is knowing when to stand firm and when to yield."
Seung-Jin found solace in her words. Their bond grew stronger, not out of shared ambition, but through mutual respect and understanding. In her, he saw a reflection of his own desires to protect and guide those around him. But unlike him, Sung-Hye had learned to accept the darker side of leadership, knowing that sometimes, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.
As the political intrigues of Hanyang spiraled ever closer to conflict, Seung-Jin attempted to intervene, thinking he could change things for the better. But no matter how hard he tried, every choice seemed to alter the balance in ways that created ripples he could not control.
Sung-Hye stood by his side through it all, reminding him with gentle yet firm words that their fates were intertwined with the fate of the kingdom. "Every action has its consequence, Seung-Jin. The cost of what we do now will echo far beyond what we can see."
And so, they fought together—not just with sword and strategy, but with heart. Their efforts seemed to be a dance with fate itself, one step forward, two steps back. Each moment spent together became a lesson, not only in warfare but in understanding the fragile nature of their world. They were not heroes who could change everything, but they could at least ensure that their fight was one worth having.
By the time the mirror shattered once again, a heavy fog had settled over Hanyang. It was a sign—a quiet, inevitable conclusion to all the changes Seung-Jin had set in motion. The power within the broken mirror flickered one last time, its light dimming until there was nothing left but shards scattered on the ground, now devoid of power.
The city, still beautiful but undeniably touched by the scars of war and political intrigue, stood in a delicate balance. The mirror was broken, but Seung-Jin had learned the hardest lesson yet: the past could not always be fixed. The future would not always bend to his will. The cost of his actions had shaped this reality, just as Sung-Hye had warned him. There was no going back—not to the life he had once known, nor to the innocence he had carried before.
As he stood alongside Sung-Hye, the weight of his journey and the future ahead seemed almost too much to bear. Yet, amidst the tragedy and loss, he had found something valuable—a friendship born out of struggle, a connection formed in the crucible of history. In that moment, Seung-Jin realized that sometimes, the greatest victories came not from changing the course of time, but from embracing the people who stood by you, no matter how fleeting the moments might be.
The mirror had shattered, but Seung-Jin no longer felt the need to mend it. His heart, once broken by the fragility of time, now found strength in the bonds he had formed across the fractured timelines. There was no turning back, but perhaps, that was not such a terrible thing after all.
The Floating City, 3000 AD – The Infinite Future
(The Final Test)
Seung-Jin's final journey took him higher than ever before, to a city that seemed to float above the Earth, a spectacle of human ambition and technological marvels. The year was 3000 AD, and the city before him was the pinnacle of civilization. Towering structures gleamed under the artificial sun, floating islands dotted the sky, and the hum of advanced machinery filled the air. It was a breathtaking sight—a world where humanity had seemingly achieved its ultimate form.
Yet, the city's grandeur concealed a dark truth. As Seung-Jin wandered the streets of this floating utopia, he could sense the emptiness beneath its perfection. The people here had traded their humanity for efficiency, abandoning emotions and individuality for a life of sterile precision. It was a paradise, yes—but one that had come at an unthinkable cost.
Amidst this world of flawless technology and cold beauty, Seung-Jin was drawn to a towering figure. The man was unlike anyone Seung-Jin had ever encountered. Garen—a name that struck with the weight of thunder—was massive in both stature and presence. His body was a testament to raw strength, with muscles that seemed to ripple under his skin like waves crashing against a rocky shore. His features were sharp, yet his eyes glowed with an ethereal, fiery light—a deep, burning intensity that suggested a connection to something far beyond the physical realm.
Despite his imposing appearance, there was an undeniable warmth to Garen. His presence was both comforting and terrifying, like a mountain that stood firm in the face of any storm. It was immediately clear that he was someone who had been forged through battle and hardship, a person who embodied strength not just in body but in heart.
"You've come far, Seung-Jin," Garen's voice rumbled, deep and resonant. His gaze was steady, unwavering, like the flames in his eyes could pierce through anything, even the barriers of time. "But you're about to learn the true cost of the path you've chosen. The path of control."
Seung-Jin stared up at Garen, feeling both awe and a strange kinship. This man—this towering force—was his future self's closest ally, a symbol of what could happen when one gave in completely to the pursuit of power.
As Garen spoke, his voice carried a weight that seemed to resonate with the very air around them. "This city... this life... we've achieved everything we could have ever wanted. Immortality. Absolute control. The end of all suffering. But at what cost?" His eyes flared even brighter, the intensity of his gaze like a wildfire that threatened to consume everything in its path.
Seung-Jin's heart clenched as he understood what Garen was saying. This was the future he feared. A future where everything he had worked for—the peace, the control, the attempts to change fate—had led to the destruction of everything he had once believed in. The people here were no longer individuals. They were cogs in a machine, bound by the relentless pursuit of perfection. And Garen... he was the enforcer of that vision.
"You may think you're fighting fate," Garen continued, his eyes blazing with the fire of truth. "But you're not. You're fighting yourself. Your desires. Your need to control."
For the first time in his journey, Seung-Jin felt the crushing weight of his ambition. He had always believed that controlling time and fate would bring him peace. But now, in the face of this towering figure, he realized the price of that control. It was the destruction of everything that made life worth living—the chaos, the imperfections, the unpredictable beauty of being human.
Garen stood by his side, silent for a moment, allowing Seung-Jin to process the weight of his words. The man was a paradox—both the embodiment of the power Seung-Jin had always strived for and the cautionary tale of what would happen if he lost sight of his true self.
"I've seen what you're becoming," Garen said, his voice softer now, as if understanding the internal battle Seung-Jin was facing. "But you don't have to walk this path alone. You're not the only one who's fought fate. I've walked this road, too. And I know the price. But the question is—will you learn from my mistakes, or will you become another version of me?"
Seung-Jin's heart twisted as he realized that Garen was offering him not just a warning, but a chance—an opportunity to change the course of his own future. The fire that burned in Garen's eyes was not just a reflection of power; it was the strength of a man who had endured and survived, despite everything.
The mirror shattered once again, its pieces floating in the air like broken stars. The energy from the mirror pulsed around them, and Seung-Jin could feel the end of his journey closing in.
As the world around him began to fade, Garen placed a heavy hand on Seung-Jin's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "The journey isn't over yet, Seung-Jin. You still have a choice. You can learn from the past... or you can be swallowed by it."
With that, the mirror's energy enveloped them both, pulling them into the next phase of Seung-Jin's journey—one that would determine not just his fate, but the fate of everything he had ever known.
In Garen, Seung-Jin had found not just an ally, but a mirror of himself—a reminder of the cost of power, the price of control, and the strength that lay in embracing one's humanity. Whether he could overcome his destiny, only time would tell.
As Seung-Jin stood at the edge of the precipice, watching the winds stir the trees below, the weight of his journey pressed heavily on his shoulders. The world around him seemed vast and unyielding, yet it held a promise—a promise that had started to crystallize in his heart. He could feel it, the pull toward something greater than what he had known. But before he could move forward, a presence, serene and commanding, made itself known.
From the shadows of the ancient temple, a figure stepped into the light. His silver hair was tied back in a simple knot, and his eyes—calm yet piercing—held the wisdom of decades, perhaps centuries. Dressed in robes that seemed to shift with the wind itself, he exuded an aura of quiet strength, one that Seung-Jin had never before encountered.
"You've come far, Seung-Jin," the man said, his voice smooth as the ocean's surface on a still day. "But this path you walk is only beginning. I am Master Hyeon, and I will be the one to guide you on your next journey."
The name rang with a sense of reverence. Master Hyeon, the legend. The man whose teachings had shaped the greatest warriors and minds of this era. A recluse, known for his wisdom, who had disappeared from the world decades ago, only to resurface now, before Seung-Jin.
Further then,
As Master Hyeon stepped closer, his serene expression suddenly twisted into a mischievous grin. He reached into his robes and pulled out... a small, glowing smartphone. Seung-Jin blinked in confusion as the ancient master swiped through an app with the ease of a tech-savvy teenager.
"Ah, yes," Master Hyeon said, tapping the screen. "I've been tracking your timeline jumps with this. It's a beta version of TimeTuner 3000. Pretty slick, right? Oh, and by the way—your next stop? You're going to love it. It's a karaoke bar in 1987. You'll need to sing your way out of a paradox. Good luck hitting those high notes!"
Seung-Jin's jaw dropped as the world around him began to dissolve into pixels. The last thing he heard was Master Hyeon's laughter echoing through the void.