- Oliver -
Confusion surged through Oliver as he stared up at the towering sign before him. The bold letters, though weathered by ti, were unmistakable: ‘Wolmi The Park. ’
"Wolmi The Park?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city. "Isn't that in Incheon?"
The simple act of questioning triggered a sudden, searing pain that lanced through his skull like a razor-sharp blade. It felt as though tal had pierced from one side of his head to the other. The agony was so intense that his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, palms pressing against his temples in a futile attempt to quell the tornt.
When his vision finally steadied and the pain subsided to a dull throb, Oliver noticed warm droplets pattering onto the cracked pavent. He reached up to touch his face and found blood trickling from his nose. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he gazed around, bewildered.
Fragnts of mories flickered at the edges of his mind. Vague, elusive, yet achingly familiar. He recalled a sunny day by the sea, his father's hand enveloping his as they walked along the bustling avenues of the the park. The scent of salty air mingled with the sweet aroma of cotton candy. The distant laughter of children blended with the chanical whirring of rides. He rembered the Ferris wheel in particular, its colorful cabins ascending slowly against the backdrop of a brilliant sky.
But these mories felt jumbled, like puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit. They were there, yet not there, as if overlaid upon his own experiences like a translucent film.
"Seoul…" Oliver murmured, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. "Seoul was supposed to be destroyed. Left in ruins."
He surveyed his surroundings with growing confusion. The street he stood on was lined with low-rise buildings, so bearing the scars of war, scorch marks, shattered windows, and crumbling facades. Entire blocks appeared abandoned, overtaken by weeds, and littered with debris. Yet interspersed among the desolation were signs of resurgence—clusters of newly constructed buildings contrasted with the decay around them.
Many of these structures looked industrial, enclosed by towering tal walls topped with razor wire. Chimneys jutted into the sky, belching plus of smoke or steam. The air was thick with the sll of machinery and the distant rumble of heavy equipnt.
In the distance, dominating the horizon, was an imnse edifice that dwarfed everything around it. The building spanned nearly four city blocks. Its dark surface seed to absorb the light. It was monolithic, imposing, and completely opaque. There were no windows, no markings, and no indication of its purpose. The structure seed to swallow shadows, rendering it a void against the patchwork sky.
‘That… That must be the target of the test,’ he thought.
There was a small warehouse at the edge of the decaying district, its corrugated tal walls rusted, paint peeling away in uneven strips. Despite its neglected appearance, it didn't bear the hallmarks of complete abandonnt. Weeds sprouted through cracks in the pavent around it, but the windows, though dusty, were intact, and the chain securing the front gate looked aged but serviceable.
‘Maybe I could climb that? See from above what we have around here.’ He questioned himself.
Oliver paused at the corner of the street, his eyes darting beneath the shadow of his hood. He scanned the surroundings, a desolate street lined with derelict buildings. Satisfied that no one was watching, he approached the warehouse's main gate.
The gate was fastened with several padlocks, their tal tarnished and flaky. He tested one with a firm tug; the brittle tal crumbled in his hand. "Not much of a problem," he muttered. One by one, he snapped the remaining locks, the echoes of tal clattering against concrete sounding louder than he would have liked.
Pushing the heavy door open just enough to slip inside, Oliver was greeted by a musty gust of air. Sunlight filtered through gri-coated skylights. Stacks of shipping containers lood along the facility, their surfaces coated in thick layers of dust. Cobwebs draped from the rafters, swaying gently in the draft.
Oliver wasn't here for the forgotten cargo on the ground level. His objective lay above. Navigating around the containers, he found a rusty staircase bolted to the wall. It groaned under his weight but held firm as he ascended to the second floor. From there, he climbed atop one of the containers, using it to boost himself onto the roof through a hatch whose lock had long since broken.
Crouching low against the tal roof panels, Oliver moved cautiously to the edge, facing the adjacent structure. He lay flat, the cold steel pressing against his chest, and peered over the side. The building next door was a stark contrast to the rundown warehouse, a monolithic structure with a facade of seamless black material that seed to absorb the light.
He tried to peer inside, but the darkness was impenetrable. Frustrated, Oliver shifted his gaze to the surroundings. The warehouse provided an unobstructed view over the chain-link fence that separated this abandoned sector from the fortified periter of the military base. Beyond the barrier, a hive of activity unfolded.
Hundreds of soldiers moved in disciplined formations. Among them, dozens of chas patrolled thodically.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Yet sothing caught Oliver's attention. The soldiers and chas seed to focus their movents around the auxiliary buildings flanking the main complex. Only a select few officers accessed the primary structure.
‘Why the hell are only so officers going in and out?’ Oliver wondered, his brow furrowing. ‘And wasn't the city supposed to be in ruins?’
Seoul—the last he knew—had been devastated, left as a wasteland after the events of the First Wave. Official reports declared it uninhabitable, a no-go zone sealed off from the public. But here, industries thrived, and military operations continued unabated.
Feeling a rising tide of confusion, Oliver slipped his gauntlet from beneath his sleeve. The device humd softly to life. He hesitated montarily, uncertain of what he was searching for. Finally, he typed "Seoul" into the search bar and watched as the results populated.
Article after article confird his recollections: Seoul was closed off, a forbidden city shrouded in secrecy. News reports detailed the extensive destruction, with images and videos showing city blocks reduced to rubble and iconic landmarks toppled and charred. Satellite images depicted a barren landscape devoid of life.
"Then why are there clearly active industries here?" he murmured to himself, glancing back at the bustling scene beyond the fence.
As he pondered this enigma, a subtle vibration emanated from his pocket.
As Oliver slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers brushed against the tallic surface of the Children of the Past's card. Bringing it up to his eyes, he noticed that the text, which had once detailed his evaluation, had changed. Now, it bore a new ssage: "It's ti for you to know the truth. Enter the base."
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. It was clear that infiltrating the base was his next step. ‘But how?’ he wondered, scanning his surroundings for an opportunity.
From his vantage point atop the dilapidated warehouse, he observed the activity below. A black car cruised along the main road of the military compound. Two officers settled into the back seats while two soldiers occupied the front. The vehicle moved leisurely, unaware of the watchful eyes upon it.
"Where are they headed?" Oliver mused. As the car passed through the central thoroughfare, it turned toward an auxiliary gate. Calculating quickly, he realized it would pass near his position in seconds. ‘They'll be beside the warehouse shortly,’ he thought.
Crouching low, Oliver navigated across the rooftop. He positioned himself at the edge; muscles tensed like coiled springs, eyes fixed on the approaching vehicle.
"Three… two… one…" he counted under his breath. As the car drew level with his perch and the street below remained deserted, he launched himself into the air.
Ti seed to slow as he soared downward. The wind whipped past him, and the distance closed rapidly between him and the car's windshield. He crashed into the vehicle with explosive force, the impact crumpling the front end and sending shockwaves through the fra. tal scread, and glass shattered as the hood folded like paper. Oliver was flung forward by the montum, his body striking the wall of the opposite building before collapsing onto the pavent.
"Fucking hell!" one of the soldiers yelled, scrambling out of the car.
"Did we hit soone?" the other soldier exclaid, eyes wide with shock.
Oliver lay motionless for a mont, his senses reeling. Though the collision had been brutal, his enhanced physique absorbed most of the impact. Aside from a few superficial cuts, he was largely unhard. His training had prepared him for worse.
From his position on the ground, he could hear the soldiers' footsteps approaching cautiously. The officers stumbled out of the back seats, one pressing a hand to his head, dazed by the sudden crash.
"Is he alive?" an officer called out, concern and suspicion mingling in his voice.
"He—he's not wearing a uniform," a soldier noted, squinting in the dim light.
"Is he off-duty?" another wondered aloud.
Before they could reach any conclusions or react further, Oliver's eyes snapped open. With cat-like agility, he sprang to his feet and closed the distance between them in an instant. His fists flew—precise, controlled strikes that incapacitated the soldiers before they could raise their weapons. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
However, the two officers sitting in the back seat were far from Oliver. Both rushed to get into the car, trying to contact HQ.
"Intruder!" the first officer shouted, fumbling to draw his sidearm.
"Alert the base!" the second officer barked, diving back toward the car, likely reaching for a communication device.
However, Oliver only needed to extend one of his hands, pointing at both officers.
[Emperor’s Pressure]
His newest boon did the rest of the work.
The two n were suddenly slamd to the ground as if a massive hand was pressing down on them from above.
Oliver could feel his energy being quickly drained to keep them pinned. But the force exerted on the officers' bodies was so intense that he could hear their leg bones breaking just before they finally passed out, and Oliver could deactivate the boon.
Breathing steadily, Oliver surveyed the scene. Four n lay incapacitated, and the severely damaged car rested awkwardly in the roadway, steam hissing from beneath the twisted hood.
‘I need to clean this up before another patrol cos by,’ he thought. The warehouse he'd used as a lookout was close; he could stash the evidence there.
One by one, he hefted the unconscious n over his shoulder, carrying them into the shadows of the warehouse. Finally, he returned to the wrecked car, pushing it off the road and into the warehouse.
Debris and shards of glass littered the street where the collision had occurred. It wasn't perfect, but in this desolate area, scattered wreckage could easily be mistaken for the remnants of skirmishes or neglect.
Turning his attention back to the officers, Oliver worked quickly. He stripped one of the officers of a similar build, exchanging his own attire for the uniform. He then retrieved their access cards and any identification they carried.
With resourcefulness born from training and necessity, he used their own clothing to bind them—shirts torn into makeshift gags, pants repurposed to tie their wrists and ankles. Within minutes, the four n were secured, still unconscious but safely hidden from imdiate discovery.
"This should buy enough ti," Oliver calculated, adjusting the uniform's collar to obscure his face partially. Clipping the access card to his belt, he felt a surge of determination. "Now, to infiltrate the base."
Reviews
All reviews (0)