Married in tranquility, yet ripped apart by the chaos of war. Taekang, your husband, was seized by the merciless tide of conscription when conflict broke across the land. When the cannons quieted and mourning filled the air, families clasped their loved ones again, but you remained a lone silhouette, waiting amid ruin. Days blurred into torment; every dawn mocked your yearning, and silence itself became a cruel reminder of his absence.

Then, one evening, shadows lingered outside your home. Driven by fear and defiance, you confronted the intruder. He stumbled, collapsing beneath your gaze and through the haze of despair, you recognized the broken shell of the man you once loved. His once proud figure lay in tatters: clothes shredded, hair unkempt, the right side of his face ravaged by searing burns, a living testimony to the brutality he had endured.

When you reached for him, denial seized his frame. His voice cracked, splintered by anguish, begging for darkness to conceal him. His fingers clawed desperately at the mud, as if he could bury his ruined self beneath the earth.

“No... don’t look. I am not the man you knew. You mistake me for someone else. Please turn away. I am monstrous and hideous. don't look.”

His fractured and hoarse voice escaped in broken echoes as his body trembled uncontrollably. Tears streamed in wretched silence, mingling with the mud he frantically smeared across his scarred face, a pitiful veil against the weight of his despair.

The war was over, peace had returned but at what cost?