[Contrary to the misunderstanding of many powerful figures, foresight is not an ability to control the future.]

When the Saintess was still a fledgling girl, the former Saintess had spoken these words to her.

[Foresight is merely a power to aid in making choices. Do not forget that.]

[...That’s too difficult to understand.]

[Is that so? Then let’s think of it another way. Our foresight is imperfect. Once you glimpse the future, you can never see it again. Because the moment you peek, the future changes.]

At that time, she hadn’t understood.
Why the voice of the former Saintess had sounded so heavy, why it had carried such sorrow.

[But… I’ve seen the same future multiple times before?]

[Not the same. Only similar. Later, when you look carefully, you’ll realize the subtle changes you missed.]

[Uh… I still don’t get it….]

[That’s all right. One day… when you grow up, you’ll naturally come to understand.]

The former Saintess had stroked her cheek as she spoke, her hands full of wrinkles yet radiating warmth.

[Until that time comes, never share your foresight recklessly. Especially, never share your innermost thoughts. Understood?]

[Uh… but… the Archbishop told me I should actively share my foresight.]

[That fool of an Archbishop says such things because he’s an idiot. You don’t need to take his words seriously.]

"Idiot." It was the first curse word the Saintess had ever heard, but at the time, she hadn’t understood.
She’d merely thought, The Archbishop’s family situation must be more complicated than I realized.

[Remember, the foresight bestowed upon you by the divine isn’t for the Archbishop or your father. It’s for you, and you alone. All the choices are yours to make.]

[…]

[So be cautious, very cautious. In this world, as with all things, good intentions can lead to the worst outcomes. Especially for us, whose foresight is bound to destiny.]

Pain, sorrow, and regret.
At the time, the Saintess was too young to notice such emotions, let alone empathize.
And so, she could ask cruel questions without a second thought.

[But… what if I want to share my foresight? What if I meet someone I want to glimpse the future with someday?]

A sharp question, only a child could ask.
The former Saintess didn’t get angry but instead smiled as she answered.

[If that happens, there’s nothing to be done. Just make sure to do it in secret, without the other priests knowing.]

[Huh? But you just told me not to….]

[Regret is better than waiting, and pain is better than regret.]

[Uh… is that a verse from scripture? Sorry, I haven’t memorized all of them yet….]

[No, it’s something I learned from experience. One day… it’ll be something you’ll understand too.]

At the time, she didn’t understand what those words meant, and the former Saintess didn’t elaborate further.
But ten years later, today, holding Yeomyeong’s hand and sharing a glimpse of the future—this moment—
The Saintess finally understood the meaning of those words.

When Yeomyeong opened his eyes, the first thing to greet him was a space bathed in pure white.
The space wasn’t large, barely bigger than a dorm room.
As he slowly stood, his entire body felt unfamiliar, as if it weren’t his own.
Paradoxically, it was a sensation Yeomyeong knew well, one he had experienced many times before.

The feeling of being inside someone else’s dream.

Was this the Saintess’s dream? No, since she had said she would show him her foresight, it was more accurate to call it her vision of the future.
With that thought, he scanned the surroundings and noticed the Saintess kneeling in prayer.

Her hands were clasped tightly, and she trembled as if suppressing something or enduring pain.
But instead of helping her, Yeomyeong turned his head away.

…He couldn’t help it.
The Saintess was stark naked.

“What the hell…?”

Yeomyeong squeezed his eyes shut and fought to suppress his reactions.
The unfamiliar sensation made it hard to keep his blood under control.
Channeling mana and utilizing blood acceleration, he focused on calming his body.
Only after enough time passed that his clenched eyelids began to tingle could he fully regain control.

“…Yeomyeong?”

In the meantime, the Saintess seemed to have overcome whatever had been holding her back and stood up.

Yeomyeong glanced at her briefly and then immediately shut his eyes again.
It was clear she hadn’t realized she was naked yet—there was no way she could wear such an innocent expression otherwise.

“Saintess… you should, um… your attire….”

Before he could finish, the Saintess leaned in close.

“What’s with the sudden formality? Did you see something weird?”

Her long lashes, which had been hidden under her eyepatch, fluttered in front of Yeomyeong’s face.

To keep his head from turning, Yeomyeong strained his neck until it ached as he responded.

“Saintess, your… clothing….”

“…Clothing?”

The Saintess finally looked down at herself. A moment of silent shock filled the space between them.

In that silence, Yeomyeong could hear every sound from her direction—
The sharp intake of breath, the frantic shuffling of feet, and finally, the hurried rustling of fabric.

After a brief yet chaotic commotion, the Saintess cleared her throat awkwardly.

“…You can open your eyes now.”

When Yeomyeong turned to look, the Saintess was now dressed in an unusually ornate and luxurious priestess’s robe.

“…How does it feel to be inside the foresight? Nothing seems strange, right?”

She asked casually, as if nothing had happened.
Though her flushed face and trembling hands clutching her skirt betrayed her nerves, Yeomyeong decided to respect her dignity.

“…No, nothing seems wrong.”

“R-really? Then, let’s just… start the foresight right away.”

Dragging her stiffened body, the Saintess moved to stand before a white wall.

“Wait a moment….”

She raised her hand high and swept it down the wall.

A large image appeared on the once-blank surface, a picture many times larger than the Saintess herself.

‘That’s….’

Looking closely, Yeomyeong realized it resembled a photograph more than a painting.

The photo depicted a man and a woman fighting beneath a burning building.
The woman was familiar—there was only one person in the world with such black hair and piercing blue eyes.

Hong Seti.

Clad in the same leather jacket and wielding the massive hammer he had seen in Incheon, she was swinging her weapon at someone.
The man facing her, however, was indistinct, as if censored.

‘…Who is that?’

While Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the image, the Saintess spoke nervously.

“Huh? Why is this happening?”

“…What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t the future I saw….”

The Saintess pressed her hand against the wall again, sweeping it once more.
Though the image flickered with light, it didn’t change.

Instead, the scene in the photograph began to move.

Seti, who had been locked in an even battle, started to overwhelm the man.

“Hold on….”

The Saintess continued to wave her hand frantically, but with each gesture, the photo progressed further.

One sweep—Seti crushed the man’s leg with her hammer.
Two sweeps—the man crawled on the ground, trying to escape.
Three sweeps—Seti raised her hammer to strike his back….

“Stop.”

Before the Saintess could wave her hand a fourth time, Yeomyeong grabbed her wrist.

Startled by the sudden contact, the Saintess turned to him, her expression bewildered. Yeomyeong, instead of explaining, gestured toward the photo with his eyes.

Seeing the events unfolding within the foresight, the Saintess’s voice trembled.

“This… this can’t be right. This isn’t the future I saw….”

As her panic grew, Yeomyeong cut her off.

“…What exactly did you see before?”

“You, Seti, and three others I couldn’t identify being drawn into some strange magic… that’s what I saw.”

“….”

“Why would the foresight change…? I don’t….”

The Saintess trailed off as realization dawned on her.

‘Could it be… because I brought Yeomyeong into the foresight? Did sharing the vision with him cause the future to change like this?’

Unaware of Yeomyeong’s ability to alter fate, the Saintess could think of no other explanation.

“Yeomyeong… I… this….”

Ignorance turned into doubt, doubt into certainty.
Convinced the change in the future was her fault, the Saintess glanced nervously at Yeomyeong, desperate for his reaction.

No, this isn’t what I wanted.
I just wanted to use my foresight to help you.
To prove how much you and she mean to me, that’s all….

As her tongue stiffened and her mind blanked, Yeomyeong tugged gently on her wrist.

“Is there a way to look at this foresight more closely?”

His breath brushed her forehead—not too warm, not too cold, just the presence of another person’s breath.
Like magic, it cleared her thoughts, and the Saintess managed to gather herself.

“There… there is.”

“Then let’s do it now. If we’ve already changed the future once, we can change it again.”

“….”

The Saintess didn’t argue.
Though she couldn’t explain why, she felt as though Yeomyeong truly could do it.

With her free hand, she reached out and slid it into the photograph.

Then, she pried the image apart as if opening a door.

“…We just have to go inside.”

Yeomyeong glanced between the Saintess and the open space before stepping into the foresight—
Still holding her wrist tightly.

The world inside the foresight wasn’t much different from what they had seen outside.

The burning building, Seti, and the censored man she was about to kill.

But this world wasn’t flat, and with a small turn of the head, they could see things that hadn’t been visible before.

“Yeomyeong, what is this…?”

The Saintess, taking in the surrounding scenery, was left speechless. She had no choice.
The burning building was one she recognized all too well.

The Korean National Assembly.

Looking around in disbelief, her gaze lingered on the grotesque details:
The stench of burning flesh and protein, ash that clouded the air, and bodies scattered without mercy, as if butchered like cattle in a cheap adult comic.

“Why… why is Seti here… doing this…?”

Overwhelmed by the scene, the Saintess clutched Yeomyeong’s hand tightly.

Seti did this? No, it can’t be.

She turned to Yeomyeong for confirmation, hoping he’d deny it.

But Yeomyeong stood frozen, his gaze fixed on one spot.

What is he looking at?

Following his line of sight, the Saintess turned her head—and froze.

Standing there, drenched in blood, holding a sword, was none other than Yeomyeong himself.

The man’s ominous eyes were so unfamiliar that it was hard to believe he was the same person standing beside her.