𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

2.1 || Thralldom to War

Fire-crackling skies of war: orange, red, auburn, brown. They were colors Seungmin hated to see in his previous life. It was a shame that he was burned heavily by a small bombing before, leaving him no choice but to see those shades every time he saw himself.

Although his sister had helped him come to love his body once again with her flowers, seeing those hues elsewhere always started an ache in his heart.

War used to only be a background familiarity to Seungmin; there were a few minor ones that came and went throughout his life. A few acquaintances almost died. He almost died. But this was a normal occurrence around the world, and he still lived a relatively normal life, so he thought of it only as a sad event.

This notion of war changed from indifference to resentment all in one day. Because in one day, war became something that took away his precious family.

The day Seungmin lost his sister, he had also lost his parents. They were taken so abruptly by the thousands of unexpected bombings that took place all over the world, Seungmin's neighborhood one, and the restaurant his parents left for that day, another. He could never see his parents again, nor could he properly grieve for his sister. He was forced into a survival zone where all he could think of was to live to see another day.

Eventually, as more and more attacks were made on the country, the citizens justifiably called for action. It was no longer a short event that came and went—it was a long, brutal world war. In the end, the President declared to revolt against the evil that had attacked their country and others. Old propaganda posters littered the streets where blood hadn't yet touched. And not even a week after the death of his family, the government scouted Seungmin for his fascinating intelligence. His father, who had worked in the government before his passing, had always praised Seungmin for his novelty of creativity and above perfect standardized test scores that the government had access to.

As a mere broken and naïve fourteen-year-old, Seungmin fell easily for their sweet promises of revenge against the people who dared to take away the lives of his loved ones. He was too naïve to realize that he didn't know who they were fighting against, that his bitterness for the entire world was fueled happily by the government, and that the things he made were out of the bounds of morality.

But Seungmin hated and hated and hated more. He created automatic machines to target the planes of "terrorists" who "strove to kill his mother and father and sister." He devised the first-ever atomic bomb to end the "merciless" countries who "ended his friends' lives before they could experience high school." He worked for the government day and night, allowing hatred to latch onto his neck and whisper devilish thoughts in his ears.

The bunker he resided in, shielded from the war's destruction, used to be filled with charred but recovered photos of his family. Slowly, they were hidden by the blueprints of angry chalk scribbles and madness. He eagerly participated in The War To End All Wars, pushing away the memories of his cherished family that hurt too much to remember.

Seungmin was fully aware that war shackled his body as a master would a slave. And toward the end of his life, he came to understand that millions of deaths fell onto his shoulders. But in a world where there was nothing left to love, he had long lost his heart. Anger itself burned in his lungs and powered his body to complete his oeuvre to end mankind.

But the fire extinguished before he had a chance to finish, and he died in the darkness of his bunker, alone.

And then, he found himself in another world.

He, who had never seen the light of day for two years, believed that the outside world of war was still only red. Buildings should still be enraptured in flames, and the air should still be stained in radioactive smoke. Perhaps that was why he thought nothing when hearing about recent wars in the Hershian Empire; the air was cool and the skies were so brightly blue that war was never something he would have associated with his new life.