The Hollow Region The Prophecy of Aster

The dimly lit chamber was filled with the scent of burning sage, the flickering flames casting eerie shadows against the ancient stone walls. The atmosphere was thick with the weight of tradition, of history—of something far older than any of them.

High Priest Hoseok stood in the center, waiting.

His silver hair, hidden beneath his ceremonial hood, reflected the candlelight. Behind him, his subordinates stood in silence, their gold-plated masks concealing their faces, their robes dyed in deep crimson—symbols of devotion to the old ways.

He had sent for Jungkook, knowing well that the Enigma would come.

And when the heavy doors finally creaked open, and Jeon Jungkook stepped inside, the air shifted.

Hoseok stated, his voice calm yet edged with weight.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered toward the altar, where relics lay in careful arrangement—daggers, bowls of crushed herbs, and vials of dark liquid. His expression remained unreadable.

His presence commanded attention effortlessly—not because he sought it, but because it was simply who he was. He moved with a calm, calculated grace, his dark eyes sweeping over the chamber with the quiet authority of someone who had long since learned that nothing could truly harm him.

His royal lineage showed in the way he held himself—unshaken, unaffected.

Not a King. But something far beyond.

Hoseok did not kneel before him—he was not one to bow, even before an Enigma. But he did incline his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of Jungkook’s presence.

The Priest

"Jeon Jungkook"

he began, his voice steady,

The Priest

"your time approaches."

Jungkook remained still, waiting.

Hoseok exhaled, his gaze unreadable.

The Priest

"The stars have spoken of change—something inevitable, something beyond our control."

For the first time, a flicker of something unreadable passed through Jungkook’s eyes.

Hoseok continued, his tone unwavering.

The Priest

"Your predecessors—both Enigmas before you—never found their mates. Their fates were written in blood before they could reach their full strength."

A pause.

The Priest

"And the stars have not spoken of yours at all."

Silence stretched between them.

Jungkook’s expression remained unreadable. He had long since accepted that fate had no hold over him. If destiny had failed the Enigmas before him, then he saw no reason to concern himself with prophecies.

Jeon Jungkook

"If the stars cannot predict my fate,"

He finally said, his tone cool

Jeon Jungkook

"then perhaps I am beyond them."

Hoseok’s lips pressed into a thin line. There was no fear in Jungkook—there never was. And that alone made him different. The Jeon Enigma was unlike any before him.

And that... was either a sign of salvation—or destruction.

Then, without breaking his gaze, Hoseok reached for the ceremonial dagger.

The Priest

“To prepare, we must perform the ritual.”

Behind the priest, two men stood with fresh wounds on their backs, their robes stained crimson, their breathing ragged but controlled. The ritual demanded sacrifice. They had taken the first two slashes in honor of the Enigma—an offering to strengthen him, to ward off unseen dangers.

But Jungkook had never believed in such things.

And yet, he stood there, letting them proceed.

Hoseok, his silver hair partially concealed beneath the hood of his ceremonial robe, held the sacred dagger in his hand. The blade gleamed under the candlelight as he stepped toward Jungkook.

The Priest

"The Enigma must endure,"

Hoseok spoke, his voice steady.

The Priest

"As your predecessors did. As you must."

Jungkook did not flinch as the first slash tore across his back.

The blade was laced with wolfsbane, a poison meant to suppress a wolf’s healing—to let the pain linger, to ensure the mark remained longer than it should. For an Enigma, it would not last forever, but for a brief moment, it would slow him.

It was a test. A tradition older than any of them.

But Jungkook gave them nothing. No reaction. No sound. Not even a tensed muscle.

The second slash came. Then the third. The blood ran down his back in thin rivulets, staining the ceremonial stone beneath him.

But his expression remained unreadable.

Hoseok watched him carefully, his own face betraying nothing. This was not the first time Jungkook had undergone this ritual. And yet, there was something about this moment that felt different.

The Priest

"The last two Enigmas never lived to see their futures,"

Hoseok said suddenly, voice quieter now, but carrying the weight of truth.

The Priest

"They had no mates. No destined path."

The candlelight flickered.

The Priest

"And you…"

Hoseok’s eyes met Jungkook’s.

The Priest

"Have no glimpse of fate at all."

Jungkook remained silent, letting the words settle.It did not matter.He did not believe in fate.

A final slash. The deepest one yet.

The scent of wolfsbane mixed with his own blood, but Jungkook barely acknowledged it.

Hoseok exhaled, stepping back. His subordinates moved swiftly, applying the sacred herbs to slow the poison’s spread. The wounds would take a day to fully heal—longer than usual.

The Priest

"Tomorrow," Hoseok murmured, "you will return to the Jeon mansion."

Jungkook simply nodded once before turning away, walking out of the chamber as if nothing had happened.

That night, back at the temple’s quarters, Jungkook stood before the mirror.

His back was bare, the slashes still raw. The wolfsbane had done its work—it burned. But he merely observed the marks, tilting his head slightly, as if studying something unfamiliar.

His reflection gave nothing away.The wounds would be gone by tomorrow.And so would he.

The prophecy was clear—without a mate, the Enigma would perish before his time.

And yet, Jungkook felt nothing. No dread. No fear.

Author

May be Jungkook isn't really effected with the prophecy because he had long accepted his persona of being an Engima , no desires of his own ,even the thought of mate no longer exists