By Zephyria 
「Rest easy. For your memories are the foundation upon which that one’s existence is consecrated. Above all, we are not gods so heartless as to harvest memories when our apostle does not even know what his own heart’s desire is.」
As it spoke, Chaos whispered, as if pushing the child’s small back forward.
「Now, show us your struggling once more. Just as you did nine years ago.」
〈…….〉
「Nine years ago, that one stopped your death. I look forward to seeing how long it takes for your death to be stopped this time.」
Even knowing that Chaos was toyed with him just as it had when he was five, Tae-un walked toward the repeating death of his own accord. Retracing that horrific, infinite death was the only chance to meet Kim Si-baek.
✽ ✽ ✽
Perhaps it was because he was confused by questions regarding the Great Cataclysm. While on a video call with Cloud, he asked without thinking.
“What was it like for you during the Great Cataclysm?”
I was staying at my parents’ house in Portland because the whole family gathered for the first time in a while to watch the World Cup broadcasts in the early morning. I wasn’t really interested, so I went to sleep early. I woke up to a strange sound, and the world had changed. Fortunately, my sister awakened a combat-type trait, so no one in my family died.
After thinking for a moment across the screen, Cloud continued.
Come to think of it, something strange happened then. My sister is a hunter, but at the time, we didn’t know anything about awakenings or such. We were flustered by the commotion outside, and then an international call came to the house.
“A phone call?”
Some young child explained my sister’s awakening ability to us. What the trait was and how to use it. If it hadn’t been for that call, my whole family wouldn’t have survived.
Thinking it was quite a curious occurrence, Kim Si-baek asked casually.
“That child was your savior, then. Who was it? I’m even more curious since it was a child.”
I don’t know. They hung up without revealing who they were. I tried calling back, but the connection failed, perhaps due to line issues. The voice hadn’t even gone through puberty, so it must have been a very young child… Ah, I remember the phone number.
“Then shouldn’t you be able to find out who it was?”
I tried to make an inquiry, but it happened to be Seoul. Since Seoul had become such a wreck, they said tracking was impossible with just a phone number.
The explanation of a mysterious call from Seoul sent a chill down Kim Si-baek’s spine, scratching his nerves with an instinctive alarm. He asked slowly, so as not to make his younger brother feel strange.
“What was that phone number?”
The sequence of numbers Cloud recited readily was the number of the orphanage. Because the last few digits happened to be the date his mother disappeared, it was a nine-digit number he had never forgotten to this day.
Hanging up the phone with a forced calm in his voice, Kim Si-baek covered his forehead. Somang Orphanage was small. There were only a few children. Half of them were boys. Since they were pre-adolescent and hadn’t hit puberty, everyone except Tae-un was ruled out. …No. Tae-un hadn’t hit puberty back then either.
Adding to that the ability to communicate in English.
Kim Si-baek massaged his throbbing temples with his palms. Perhaps because his thoughts were biased, no matter how many times he reasoned it through, the only result was that the child was Tae-un.
Questions he had tried to ignore and bury began to crawl back up. The errors and incongruities with his surroundings. A fourteen-year-old boy who handled an unprecedented situation with proficiency. Memories of the past where only Tae-un was different. The traces of a life where he claimed he had never looked for him.
If it really was Tae-un, how could he have contacted his brother’s house and informed them of all those things? …How did he know his brother had survived? Had he known he was alive and pretended not to know until now?
It was the last question that tormented him. The suspicion that Tae-un might have been deceiving him. And the disillusionment toward himself for harboring suspicion toward Tae-un. Even if everyone in the world turned their backs on the child, he alone should have trusted him.
“Hyung.”
Tae-un, who approached Kim Si-baek—who hadn’t reacted even after hearing the door open—hugged him from behind with a playful smile.
“How deep in thought are you that you didn’t even notice I arrived?”
“…….”
“I heard the hunters are coming back up tomorrow. I liked being able to spend time quietly with you for a few days, but the lodging is going to get hectic again…”
“Un-ah.”
Kim Si-baek, who had been half-ignoring his words, cut him off and turned around. Tae-un curved his eyes beautifully like crescent moons, as if asking what was wrong. Because he looked the same as always, the suspicion he harbored felt even more bitterly painful.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“I am.”
It was an immediate answer. Before the ripple caused by that short sentence could even reach inside Kim Si-baek, Tae-un sighed, clutching his chest.
“Like how my first nocturnal emission was actually about you, hyung, or how I used to masturbate thinking of you during the time my sexual desire was exploding, or how I’ve smelled your scent on the bedding when I visited your studio apartment and you weren’t there, and also…”
“No, not things like that.”
Blushing, Kim Si-baek covered Tae-un’s mouth.
“I mean, is there something you’re hiding since the Great Cataclysm? Twenty-one years ago, a call was made to Si-woon’s house, and they said it was the orphanage’s number.”
He tried hard to find a look of bewilderment on Tae-un’s face. However, Tae-un narrowed his eyes and continued calmly. Just as he had when he was asked at the Ryugyong Hotel.
“What if, hyung, I had a dream that Si-woon hyung was alive and called to warn him of danger—would you believe that?”
Before answering, Kim Si-baek looked at himself. Would he really believe such an absurd explanation as a dream? The self-question found an answer easily.
“I would.”
From the moment he locked eyes with those black pupils staring up from a small, palm-sized window, Kim Si-baek and Tae-un had changed each other’s lives. How could he distrust a uniqueness that could not be found in any other bond?
And Tae-un.
“…….”
He closed his eyes, which held a light more pained than when he heard Kim Si-baek suspecting him.
“……I’ll tell you then, after we hunt the kun. Everything.”
“Okay.”
“It might sound like an excuse, but in my own way, I was trying to do what was best for you, hyung.”
“I don’t think of it as an excuse.”
Kim Si-baek cupped Tae-un’s face with both hands. He pressed his lips to the brow furrowed with distorted pain and moved his kisses to the eyelids. He softly embraced him, passing over the sharp bridge of his nose down to the lower lip that had been bitten hard.
Only then did Tae-un let out a long breath and lean into him. Despite the familiar weight, for some reason, the anxiety deepened.
✽ ✽ ✽
After final preparations, the Korean hunters who returned to Kaesong began their full-scale southward advance. The path to Seoul had been roughly cleared by cleaning the Kaesong field. All that remained was entering Seoul and pioneering the route to the Han River, the habitat of the kun. The vanguard, tasked with installing barriers, decided to move south along National Route 1.
Since the most prominent guilds in Korea had gathered, they opened the way to Seoul with irresistible force. Because high-ranking magical beasts, like the dragonfish, had fled to avoid the kun, the threat of magical beasts decreased as they headed toward the center of Seoul.
The vanguard reached the vicinity of the Han River in two days. On the morning of the third day, the day before the quest deadline, the rear guard, including Kim Si-baek, joined the temporary base camp.
Since the civilization of a city inevitably declines even if residents are absent for just a few months, Seoul, which had been untouched by humans for twenty-one years, was more desolate than Kim Si-baek had imagined. Unrecovered skeletal remains were hidden throughout collapsed buildings, and lush trees were growing through the cracks in the asphalt. The expressions of the hunters whose hometown was Seoul were also tinged with complexity.
In the distance, Namsan Tower was faintly visible. Unlike what he had seen through the vision, Namsan Tower had not yet collapsed.
Upon joining the vanguard, it wasn’t Pi Min-hyeong or Seo Gae-un, but Justina who greeted him most warmly. Tae-un, who was part of the vanguard, was not yet visible, likely still in a meeting.
“Si-baek’s little brother!”
Gloiuken reacted to her greeting.
“He is of an age to call Your Excellency ‘little brother,’ yet he is a remarkably vigorous person.”
“He’s around your age, but he thinks I’m 49, no, 50 years old…”
“Ah.”
Gloiuken didn’t say much, but Biyendwe took the liberty of conveying a message.
[He says he wonders where the grand warrior of Death and Beauty sold his conscience.]
“…….”
There were no words to use as an excuse. Regardless, Justina approached friendly, exchanged greetings with Gloiuken, and then asked him slyly.