CHAPTER 46: I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO SHOULD’VE DIED.

By the time all the nation’s security forces had surrounded the GAC main building, most of the black-clad attackers had already vanished. The only one left had taken their own life without a moment’s hesitation.

And it had happened just as they thought the building had been evacuated and regained control. At the very moment they were about to transfer Le An into an armored vehicle, the attacker had appeared in front of Le An and the security unit surrounding him, spoken a few words, and then ended his own life. It was a man. A tall man.

That man... It wasn’t Taras. Le An knew. That tall figure dodged the incoming strikes, and then he raised a hand, with a single outstretched finger, pointed straight at Le An, who had been standing behind the guards.

Even though the man’s eyes were not visible beneath the black strings covering his face, Le An had felt them. Maybe that had become a new skill of his.

He could now sense the expression behind those black strings that shadow espers wore to conceal their faces. The very same kind Taras used to cover his face, this man had them too.

When Le An looked through the mass of shoulders and bodies -ten, maybe fifteen- toward the man pointing directly at him, the man had let out a loud laugh.

At the same time, Theo had leapt forward, his voice laced with fury between clenched teeth, but one of the GAC guards had stopped him. "We need to gather intel. He’s the only one left alive."

"Surrender!" They shouted at him, and the laughter abruptly stopped. Beneath the wail of sirens, the rustling of leaves and people in the distance, and the blinding emergency floodlights, the man spoke to Le An.

"You’re a lucky one, Treasure," the man said, no trace of amusement left in his voice. Le An could only watch the shifting shadows that swam across the man’s face.

"But it seems you have more than just luck. Tell me, how can you look directly into my eyes, even from behind these strings? Did someone teach you that?"

As a deep crack formed in Le An’s frozen expression, he thought the man must be talking about Taras. But how could he have known... that Taras knew him and once hid his face from him?

"What do you want!" Theo shouted, stepping fully in front of Le An, unable to contain his rage any longer.

But the man didn’t even flinch.

"This is the first warning from the awakening movement. You’ve angered us enough that we’d stab you in the back the moment you turn away. For revenge. The time has come for reckoning and purification."

In the dark of night, the man summoned a pitch-black stake, so dark it didn’t even look real. As he turned its sharp tip toward his own chest, he called out to Le An.

"Treasure, since you survived tonight, the awakening movement will reach you again. Whether it’s in the darkness of night or the brightness of day, there is someone who will reach you. A certain someone. He will deliver our message to you. Goodbye!"

After those final words, the man drove the stake into his chest and disintegrated like a wisp of darkness, becoming nothing more than a handful of black ash.

The person who could reach him whether it was night or day.

In hindsight, it was clear this attack had been planned long in advance. It was meant to be short and striking. Because even though far greater losses could’ve occurred, the attackers had suddenly retreated and disappeared.

Does it hurt here when I touch it? Le An.

A brief, brutal strike. The goal had clearly been to kill Le An, in front of the eyes of the nation, the people, and the media.

Le An, can you hear us?

And once that failed, the attack devolved into a frenzy of random explosions and slaughter, as if they refused to return empty-handed and chose to massacre whatever they could find.

We’ve received orders to transport him to a special care institute.

His body is frozen stiff. Theo, what should we do?

"Le An." When Le An finally lifted his head to look at Theo, everyone in the armored vehicle exhaled in relief. Theo pulled back his hands, which had been ready to shake him by the shoulders.

Reality seemed to be catching up to Le An now; he was beginning to feel all the pain in his body. The throbbing ache from his crushed ribs pounded in his brain. "Ugh... I... I’m fine. Just..."

Le An reached for his throat, his voice hoarse and barely audible. He grimaced in pain. "My throat hurts."

Emerald examined his throat with trembling fingers and told Theo, "There might be temporary damage from the compression. Then he turned toward the others in the vehicle and shouted angrily, "There’s a risk of internal bleeding. He needs further tests immediately. We should’ve taken the helicopter!"

"And gotten hunted like birds!" Theo yelled back, starting an argument. Even though the pain was making it impossible to think, Le An wasn’t close to losing consciousness. As he shook his head from side to side and grabbed Emerald’s arm, he suddenly began to sob, childlike and helpless

Le An wasn’t scared; he wasn’t even trembling. He was crying... sadly.

Even the guard driving the vehicle was stunned, jerking the car over a bump and making it lurch.

Despite the pain racking his body, one thought swirled in Le An’s mind like a storm, stopping him from voicing his agony.

Those people -the attackers- they had come from the outskirts. The movement behind the attack had been born in the outskirts, and Le An understood that now. "Hic... hnn..." And they knew Taras. That had to mean Taras was on their side; what else could it mean?

Those people Taras had once described as the millions who hated him, and who had every right to. These were those people.

Maybe Taras had thought killing Le An quietly at home would be too plain. Maybe he had wanted to kill him tonight, in front of the entire country. To slaughter the symbol of everything stolen, all evil and greed, while the whole nation watched.

At that time, Le An could feel, down to his bones, the hatred behind the power trying to smother him. It was a righteous hatred.

But then... why hadn’t they simply killed him and ended it? Why had they murdered the clueless people who continued their lives in that hall, completely unaware? That cruelty should have been reserved for him alone. For him, and for the truly evil ones pulling the strings on that upper floor.

Le An’s tearful eyes turned to the sole GAC security guard in the vehicle, and his sobbing grew louder. "Why... why are you here?"

At the start of the attack, the GAC guards had abandoned all the other guests they were supposed to protect, gathering solely around Le An to shield him.

The guard, stunned, looked at him and stammered, "F-for your safety, of course, Treasure."

"You were supposed to p-protect the others!"

Le An’s torn voice echoed through the vehicle, silencing everyone. Looking into the eyes that clearly didn’t understand, Le An covered his face with both hands and whispered:

"I was the only one... I was the only one who should’ve died."

Theo and Emerald froze the moment they heard those words. Their hands, raised to embrace him, remained suspended in the air, while their mouths -ready to object- hung open in silence.

Until Le An was taken to the special care institute, he didn’t remove his hands from his face and didn’t answer a single question. He only wept in silence.

---

"Breaking news. A terror attack was organized at the GAC main event building. 42 guides and 6 espers died, 47 injured..."

"...According to the reports, attackers called themselves part of the ’Awakening Movement.’"

"...The details about the attack are still confidential till GAC’s emergency press meeting."

"...The Treasure’s condition is well. He has slight injuries due to the commotion, according to officials."

Other than the compression in his throat, Le An had only suffered minor injuries: a few cuts, some soft tissue bruises from pressure. But once Mr. Qui had stormed in like a tempest and issued strict orders for Le An’s care and testing, the institute had begun checking him over and over, nearly every hour. An emergency medical committee was even formed to evaluate his latest test results.

When the initial wave of tests and examinations finally ended and Le An was left alone, the room he was being treated in felt no different from a metal box. He was completely unaware of the chaos happening just outside the door, of the conversations between guards and doctors. Le An was listening to the news on the hologram TV installed in the room.

On every channel, they showed that giant writing scrawled across the marble floor below the balcony, right where he had stood.

Death to the Treasure.

Le An’s eyes were locked onto the massive letters, drawn in something pitch-black, like charcoal. His expression was now calm, as if his tear ducts had dried out completely.

The screen repeatedly played the moment when that black, serpentine aura had wrapped around his body just as he went numb, choking him, and then how, somehow, he had broken free and collapsed to the ground.

News outlets speculated that perhaps the leaders of this so-called Awakening Movement had changed their minds at the last second, choosing not to kill Le An. Or maybe it was just meant as a warning. The media referred to the attackers as anonymous terrorists, their identities hidden.

But Le An knew the truth. But... Le An, and millions like him, had never even gotten to choose which side they were on. They had been born into it, just living, like everyone else. Or, in Le An’s case, planted at the very top, like a flag waving above it all.

Could there be ’right’ or ’wrong’? Could it really be that simple? If a country turned its back on the rights of the people at its farthest edges... Then yes. Wanting revenge on those who knowingly or unknowingly turned their backs on what happened there was justified.

The IV drip in Le An’s arm tapped softly into the tube, drop by drop. He was on the edge of sleep, but guilt and shock kept him awake.

Even though he didn’t want to watch, guilt and shock kept his eyes fixed on the hologram screen. In the first two hours, much of the footage hadn’t been released to the public. But now, bit by bit, it was surfacing: new photos, eyewitness accounts, images of people trampling each other in panic, and live broadcasts from the special care institute, where staff were giving updates on Le An’s condition... The moment the media ban was lifted, everything exploded into chaos.

The most viewed footage was the one showing the last attacker, the one who pointed directly at Le An and spoke to him while guards stood between them. But because it had been filmed from so far away, none of what was said could be heard. When the video was soon removed from all platforms, Le An winced in frustration and pain.

Taras. That man had implied Taras would be the one to deliver a message to him. That man knew Taras knew him.

He swallowed hard. Did that mean they knew he was an omega too? But if they knew, wouldn’t they have exposed it already? The way that man had spoken just before dying... It was full of hints. And only Le An could have understood them.

’The Awakening Movement will reach you again. Whether it’s night or day, someone will find you. A certain person.’

Le An’s thoughts kept circling back to Taras, and the bruises on his body seemed to ache with the same pain swelling in his chest. Maybe the day Taras had brought him the suppressant had been the last day he would ever see him.

Maybe, before killing him, Taras had just wanted to do one last kindness.

A nurse entered, checked Le An’s vitals and the IV bag, then quietly left.

Le An closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. His heart seemed to beat with one wish: that the person who had tried to kill him wasn’t Taras.

He’d rather die at someone else’s hands than die in Taras’s.

And so, Le An started sobbing again. He didn’t understand why he was feeling this sharp, aching betrayal in his chest.

Why -despite everything laid bare in front of his eyes- did he still not want to believe it? Why wasn’t he afraid of dying, but terrified of dying by his hand?

What was this searing, unbearable feeling he had for Taras?

Le An didn’t know the truth: that Taras hadn’t tried to kill him, but he’d risked everything to save him.