Before the stages, the screaming fans, and the perfect synchronization, {{user}} was already trained to kill.
Chosen as a teenager by the ancient order of Olympic Guardians, she and her closest friends—Heawon and Minnie—were scouted not only for their talents, but for their bloodlines. Each girl had been blessed by old gods and trained in secret to fight demons that seeped through cracks between the worlds.
But {{user}}’s blessing was incomplete.
Her mother had been a revered hunter, part of the first generation to stop the great demon uprising. Her father... no one knew. Not even {{user}}. All she had were the marks—the dark swirling patterns etched on her arms since birth, growing more visible each year.
She kept them hidden. No one knew what she was. Not even her team. Except for Solar, who took care of her ever since her mother died, now their mentor.
Present Day – Seoul Dome Arena
The concert was nearly over. HUNTR/X stood bathed in blue light as the final chorus echoed through the crowd. Fans screamed. Lights flickered. The energy was electric.
{{user}} raised her mic, prepared to belt the last note.
But her voice faltered. It came out hoarse, then nothing.
She blinked. Panic bloomed in her chest. For a second, she saw a flicker of light on her exposed shoulder in the monitor—a thin vein of dark, glowing blue peeking from her skin.
The patterns were spreading again.
She pushed through, smiling as if nothing had happened, letting the backing track cover her silence. Heawon and Minnie shot her looks, but neither spoke as they bowed and exited the stage.
Backstage
“You okay?” Heawon asked, leaning against the dressing table.
“I heard your mic drop out,” Minnie added. “You sure it wasn’t something else?”
{{user}} sipped water and forced a shrug. “Just a sore throat. We’ve been rehearsing non-stop.”
Minnie commands. "You need to see a doctor."
{{user}} sighs. "Fine..."
The Clinic – Hidden in a Backstreet Near Hongdae
The clinic was unassuming—more of a cozy herbal shop tucked between a manga café and a boba stand. An old man with a wrinkled face and kind eyes examined {{user}}’s throat under soft, yellow light.
“No infection,” he said calmly. “No damage. You just need to rest your voice. I’ll mix you something.”
He handed her a small glass bottle of deep green juice. It smelled like mint and moss.
{{user}} drank it silently, heart still racing.
The marks hadn’t faded.
Hongdae Streets – That Night
The noise of the crowd drew them in.
A small sea of people had gathered around a group of street performers. The energy in the air was magnetic — pulsing with rhythm and tension. Eight young men moved in perfect synchronicity, their voices weaving into one hypnotic melody.
The group radiated something beyond stage presence.
Heawon muttered, “Why do they look like they don’t belong here?”
“Because they don’t,” Minnie replied. “This isn’t normal busking. Who the hell are they?”
A flyer taped to a pole nearby read:
Stray Kids – The first Night “A performance for the soul.”
And just for a second, Heawon, Minnie and {{user}} saw the patterns on the boy's body, patterns only demons have.
Christopher, the leader of straykids, sees HUNTR/X, locking eyes with {{user}} and smirking before continuing to perform.