A dark, endless void.
It stretched in all directions, a plane of nothingness where even sound feared to exist. Yet within that silence, Tae Hyun stood—not broken, not bent, but breathing. Floating amidst the emptiness, he clutched at his bleeding abdomen, the wound from the dragon still fresh, a constant throb anchoring him to the memory of his defeat.
From the abyss, a soft light pulsed. It grew—not harsh, but calm—like moonlight dancing on still water. Then, emerging from the nothingness, stepped a figure.
He was beautiful.
Tall and androgynous, with flowing silver-black hair cascading down his back, and eyes that shimmered like violet stars. His form was clothed in robes that rippled like living shadow, stitched with veins of starlight. But most striking were the horns—elegant, curling upward from his head, black as obsidian and etched with glowing sigils of ancient power.
The Abyssal Dragon—in human form.
"You are awake," the dragon said, his voice a soft echo that resonated in every fiber of Tae Hyun's being. "Good. That means the fire in you has not gone out."
Tae Hyun gritted his teeth, straightening despite the pain. "Where am I?"
"A space between moments. A fold of reality I created," the dragon replied. "Your body lies unconscious. Jinhwan lives, though gravely wounded. Yul is safe. But you... your fate is not yet decided."
Tae Hyun's breath slowed. "So this is a test."
The dragon nodded. "Call it a trial of existence. To continue living, you must prove yourself worthy."
Tae Hyun's eyes hardened. "Worthy to whom? You? The world?"
"To life itself. To the forces that shape fate."
He scoffed. "I don't need your validation. I don't need the world's either."
The dragon stepped closer, his presence overwhelming despite his composed figure. "Then what do you fight for, Tae Hyun? If not for recognition?"
A silence stretched. Then Tae Hyun spoke.
"Seeking validation from the world is irrelevant to one's goal because the world is an ever-shifting mirror — fractured, distorted, and inconsistent. To base your direction on its reflection is to walk toward a horizon that recedes with every step."
He took a step forward, blood still dripping from his torn side. "The opinions of others are shaped by their fears, biases, and limited perspectives; they are not a compass but a chorus of echoes, each calling you to a different shore."
The dragon studied him, unmoving.
"The pursuit of validation is the pursuit of a phantom self — an identity constructed by external eyes. When you tether your purpose to approval, you surrender authorship of your life. You become a character in someone else's narrative, rather than the writer of your own."
The dragon's eyes flickered with faint amusement. "And yet, you stand here, near death, seeking to live."
"Not to be seen. Not to be praised," Tae Hyun said. "But to walk my path. Goals, in their truest sense, are born from inner necessity — from the collision of meaning and will — not from applause."
A breath passed between them.
"The Stoics would say that what is within your control is your intention, your effort, your virtue — not the reactions of the world. To chase validation is to confuse the end with the means. It is like a painter who creates not to express a vision, but to be seen painting. The canvas may fill, but the soul remains blank."
The dragon remained silent, but the void around them began to stir—soft ripples of starlight brushing against the dark.
Tae Hyun's voice dropped, calm and resolute. "Moreover, truth is often unwelcome to the world. Progress, authenticity, and transformation usually begin in rejection, in solitude, in defiance of popular sentiment. If validation is the metric, then truth becomes expendable, diluted to gain favor."
"Therefore, to seek validation is to dilute the purity of one's goal with the noise of the crowd. It is irrelevant not because recognition has no place, but because the flame of purpose must burn independently of the winds of praise or scorn. The world may one day acknowledge you — or never at all. But your path, if it is true, must be walked regardless."
The dragon tilted his head, violet eyes glowing. "Then why fight at all?"
Tae Hyun looked up, defiant, yet solemn.
"Because even if I'm the last to believe in me, I will still believe."
The dragon's expression, for the first time, shifted—an unreadable emotion flickering across his face.
Tae Hyun stepped closer, the pain in his body paling against the fire in his spirit. He met the dragon's gaze and asked,
"Tell me, why should I seek validation from a world that will try to crucify a perfect man?"
The void fell silent.
And the dragon did not answer.