"Mother... why doesn't Father come to visit me?"

The child stood there with wide, searching eyes and skin the color of honeyed gold. His small hands gripped his mother's clothes, holding on with everything he had.

"He is very busy with work, my love. That is why he cannot come." She stroked his hair.

The child's face fell. "Does he have no time at all for me? Last time, he was only here for a moment." He tucked a finger into his mouth, looking up at her with pure hope. "Will he bring chocolates for me again?"

In an instant, the scenery shifted.

The room dissolved into a sprawling, open garden. Figures sat beneath the heavy shade of a dense tree, but their faces were hollow—featureless blurs against the earth. I couldn't understand who they were. I laid my head in Mother's lap. She slowly stroked my hair; even though her eyes were exhausted, a spark returned to them whenever she looked down at me.

But-

the beautiful dream soured into a nightmare.

"Mother! Where are you going?" I called out, but my voice couldn't reach her. She just kept walking further and further away into the distance. A weight settled on my chest, making it impossible to breathe. Suddenly, a fist clamped into my hair, yanking my head back. A woman, whose face was a blur of rage, ground her teeth and slapped me.

Blood began to leak from my nose. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my small hands trembling as I begged for a mercy that never came. The violence was a long, dark shadow that didn't end.

The ground beneath me turned hot. The sweet scent of the garden was replaced by the stinging smell of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood. Just a few inches away, Mother was lying there. Her eyes were wide, and blood was trickling from them.

With a shattered, aching body, I tried to move toward her. I was only six; I didn't know how to save anyone. I could only crawl, dragging my small frame through the dirt, reaching out for the only person I loved. Every movement was a struggle, my tiny fingers clawing at the earth, trying to close the small gap between us.

No one came to help. The world around us stayed silent and cold while we withered in the heat of the pain. We lay there on the ground, facing each other. I looked into her eyes, and she looked into mine. I could see her suffering, and she could see my fear. We were just lying there, helpless, two souls drowning in the sight of the other's agony. In that moment, the pain of seeing her hurt was worse than the blood on my own face.

I reached for her, sobbing. What else could a child do but weep when his world was on fire?

"Aunty... help... Mother..."

"Mother, I'm sorry. I didn't protect you."

She reached her hand forward, her fingers trembling as she wiped the blood from my nose one last time.

"Nova, live. 

"No matter what... live," she whispered. 

"Mother loves you so much. I would have died long ago if it wasn't for you."

Her eyes stayed with me—

until I found my way out of that dark abyss.

With a sweet, haunting smile, the fire of that nightmare finally consumed everything.

He sat up with a violent start, gasping for air. *Huff... huff...* His chest heaved, his lungs burning as if the gunpowder from the dream had followed him into reality. He clenched his fists, holding his breath for a few agonizing seconds, waiting for the adrenaline rush to subside so his breathing could return to normal.

"I thought these dreams had finally stopped," he thought bitterly. "Now I understand why they say that even after the shackles are broken, their cold weight stays etched into your skin."

Struggling to steady his trembling frame, he pushed himself out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. He threw the door open and splashed ice-cold water onto his face—once, twice, thrice. He stared at his reflection in the mirror for two long minutes, watching the water drip from his chin before finally patting his face dry with a towel.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Nova? Are you awake? I heard something from your room."

Agent Do-hyeon's voice drifted through the door, a sharp mix of concern and urgency. Behind the wood, the sound of his heavy breathing seemed to echo in Nova's ears.

"Are you alright?" Do-hyeon called out again.

"I'm fine," Nova replied, pulling the door open.

He looked at the man standing there. "Is it a special trait of these agents to keep a twenty-four-hour watch on people?" he wondered.

A ghost of a memory flickered in his mind—"Rivert". It had been the same back then. When Nova first stayed at Rivert's house, he had suffered a nightmare so intense it left him in a state of sleep paralysis. Rivert had knocked on the door and burst in like an FBI agent who had just discovered something illegal.

Pfft. A small, involuntary smile cracked at the corner of Nova's lips at the memory. Perhaps it was just the absurdity of the situation.

Do-hyeon scanned Nova from head to toe. The boy was drenched in sweat, looking as though he had just run a marathon through hell. Do-hyeon let out a long, relieved sigh and scratched the back of his head, looking slightly sheepish.

"I... I thought someone had a knife to your throat," Do-hyeon admitted.

"Nothing like that happened. Do I really look that weak to you?" Nova hissed. The embarrassment of being caught in such a vulnerable state prickled at his skin.

"Hey... I was just worried. I came to wake you up, but you wouldn't open the door. I bet you didn't even hear the knocking."

"I definitely overreacted," Do-hyeon thought, feeling the heat rise in his chest. "Of course he's embarrassed. But still, it's my duty to check on him."

"Come downstairs," Do-hyeon said, trying to regain his composure. "I prepared breakfast for us."

Nova narrowed his eyes, trailing his gaze over the Agent.

"I'm a better cook than Rivert, by the way," Do-hyeon added defensively.

A soft, genuine giggle escaped Nova's lips. At that sound, the dark, liquid remnants of the nightmare finally began to fade away.

"What a pretty laugh," Do-hyeon thought, his heart skipping a beat. "Wait... did I just call a man's laugh 'pretty'?"

Hiding his ears—which had turned as red as a red pepper —Agent Do-hyeon rushed downstairs. Nova didn't notice the blush; he simply followed the lead. They moved into the rhythm of an everyday conversation. After all, every day is a filler—and we have to fill the void with something useless.

They shoved food down their throats in total silence. No conversation, just the rhythmic *clink-clank* of utensils against porcelain. Nova's eyes were still heavy, haunted by the lingering shadows of the dream.

"I wonder how Rivert is doing," Nova thought, staring into his plate. "He didn't pick up the phone last time. I hope everything is alright. Maybe I should have told him... but if I open my mouth, what would happen? How would Rivert react when he finds out that I..."

A sudden flick to his forehead snapped the air.

"Uhmm?" Nova blinked, the physical sting bringing him back to the kitchen table. "For real " he thought, looking at the man across from him. "They are freaking same. Everything feels like déjà vu."

"Cough, cough." Nova cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I forgot to ask... you said you are Rivert's friend, but he never mentioned having friends in the Bureau. Are you on good terms?"

The question left Agent Do-hyeon speechless for a moment. "He really has a sharp perspective," the Agent thought. He wiped his face with a tissue, choosing his words carefully. "A little bit of friction is normal between anyone, isn't it?"

"But he still trusts you," Nova interrupted with a simple, knowing smile. "That's why he left me in your care, right?"

Do-hyeon smiled back. "Call me "Hyung*."

Everything was starting to look natural, but Nova just looked confused.

"I'm two years older than you, so call me Hyung," Do-hyeon explained. "Since we're going to be living together for a while, we need to drop the formalities. Besides, I don't want you accidentally calling me 'Agent Do-hyeon' in broad daylight. You know... even walls have ears."

*You're just worried about your own identity,* Nova thought, his face looking slightly disoriented as he listened to the man's blabbing. "So, you were Rivert's senior back then? In the Bureau?"

"No, we both joined at the same time. In the Army."

"The Army?" Nova asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Shoot, did I blab too much?" Do-hyeon mused. "Did Rivert seriously not tell him he was in the Special Forces?" He picked up a glass of water and chugged it down like his life depended on it. "I... I'm talking about mandatory military service," Do-hyeon flapped his arms nervously, looking like a dying bird.

"Okaaaaay..." Nova let the word trail out in a melodic, suspicious tone, staring directly into the Agent's soul. "Why do I feel like he's hiding something from me?"

Nova picked up the utensils and headed toward the kitchen sink.

"If you want to do anything or go somewhere, feel free to ask," Do-hyeon called out from behind him. "I'll come with you."

"No need," Nova replied without turning around. "I'm a six-foot man. You think I can't handle going outside by myself? Besides, I'm job hunting today. I can't just sit around this house forever. If you want to help me, then help me find work."

Do-hyeon froze. He completely misunderstood. "Wait... did that idiot Rivert really not let him go outside alone?" He walked fast toward Nova and clenched his shoulders firmly. "You want me to beat his ass when he comes back? Is that why you're so desperate to work?"

The sudden grab startled Nova. He felt a wave of discomfort; physical touch was a privilege he only granted to a select few. He softly but firmly removed Do-hyeon's hands from his shoulders.

"You misunderstood. I have his credit card. He told me I don't need to work... but I can't do that now. I want to help him, even if it's not much."

Do-hyeon stared at Nova's face for a few seconds. He noticed how Nova's face lit up whenever he spoke about Rivert; his eyes spoke for himself. A mischievous thought crossed the Agent's mind.

"So," he teased, nudging him slightly, "Do you "like" Rivert?"

Without a second of hesitation, Nova answered, "Of course I like him."

"He didn't understand what I meant," Do-hyeon thought. "To Nova, it's not even a question." He clearly didn't realize the depth of what he was saying.

"Of course I like him," Nova convinced himself silently. "He is the only light in my world."

Far , far away from the shadows of Seoul, inside the cold walls of the Glacial Manor, a different kind of storm was brewing. Jihoon's gaze was fixed intently on the papers spread across his desk—a meticulous breakdown of the last six months. Ledger records, money transitions, and grainy CCTV footage from the streets.

One specific detail caught his sharp eyes. In every frame, alongside Rivert, there was someone else—a figure of a similar age, always present but never identified.

He flipped through the grocery lists from nearby markets and the estate's utility records. The water, gas, and electricity bills were too consistent. If Rivert spent most of his time at the organization, then who was responsible for these expensive consumption patterns? Who was living in that house as if they owned the silence?

Jihoon looked up, signaling one of his men waiting in the shadows.

"Go. Check for me who the hell he is living with," he ordered, his voice cold and final.