By Zephyria 241
“Your sister?”
“Yes. It was just a passing remark, so I’m not sure…”
Min-jun scratched his head roughly as he replied.
“You know how it was back then. We lacked proper facilities and manpower… and even then, it was all focused on the Awakened. Anyway, his sister was injured… and apparently, she died without receiving proper treatment. Because they had to take care of the Awakened first.”
“……”
A voice, laughing as if sobbing, echoed in his ears.
“You know, J… you were active back then, so you know, right? Do you know what happened to civilians who were caught in a Rift and had their limbs severed or were on the verge of death?”
Min-jun sighed and crossed his arms.
“Well, I don’t have the ability to detect lies… but that seemed to be true. He said it casually, but his expression when he said it…”
He thought it was just to explain Lee Sa-young’s background. He didn’t think it was her experience. Because it seemed like a fabricated story? No, because it was such a common story that he could predict the ending as soon as he heard it.
It’s a common story. A story about a family member, a relative, a close person dying. But…. His fist clenched. The back of his neck felt cold. His spine went cold. A chilling premonition surged. What would happen if those common stories gathered?
Common people gather to become the masses.
If the masses gathered in Prometheus.
Eui-jae pressed his temple and bit his lip. Suddenly, a question arose. A question that kept coming up but he had buried, a question for himself. Is it the right choice to join hands with them?
Bright wallpaper and colorful floors, low bookshelves and toys scattered everywhere, and a mobile spinning from the ceiling. Ga-eul was sitting alone in a place like a children’s playroom.
Flap, flap, the paper flipped quickly. The notebook, about the size of an adult’s hand, was covered in fingerprints. The contents were a mess. Letters scribbled all over the place like doodles, as well as meaningless words densely written on several pages. There were also some drawings, which were strangely recognizable. They were the Monsters he had seen in the Fragment. A little poorly drawn, though.
‘…….’
It seemed certain that the Seer had seen the Destroyed world. The scattered contents matched the knowledge she knew. Ga-eul frowned slightly. Ga-eul saw the Fragments of the past world through her ability.
‘How did the Seer see the past….’
Then, knock, knock, a knock was heard. Ga-eul closed the notebook and answered aloud, “Yes.” The door opened, and Ga-young, holding a tray, came in with a grin.
“Mealtime~”
“Already….”
Ga-eul looked around. There were no windows or clocks in this place. She had tried, but she couldn’t keep track of time at all. Ga-young placed the tray on the low desk. A sandwich filled with vegetables and a glass of milk were placed on the plate. She put her hands together.
“The meal is a bit bland, right? Sorry~ No one is really interested in eating. For your information, I ate this too.”
“Ah, no…. This is enough. It’s okay.”
“Tell me if you’re hungry? I’ll order something like chicken. If you like Korean food, something like a Korean set meal.”
Ga-eul nodded and picked up the sandwich. Ga-young looked at the notebook on her lap and smiled.
“You were looking at that? The record left by the Seer herself.”
“Ah, yes….”
“How was it?”
Ga-eul slowly chewed and swallowed the sandwich. It was sweet, as if sugar had been sprinkled on the ketchup. Her eyes behind her round glasses were shining. It was a gaze that she strangely couldn’t look at carelessly. It was similar to the crazy person who used to wander around the neighborhood when she was young.
Ga-eul answered, gathering the falling lettuce.
“…There are things that are similar to the scenery I saw.”
Her lips parted as if smiling. Ga-young, sitting in front of Ga-eul, smiled brightly.
“Really? That’s a relief~ Do you believe it now?”
“I’m left because I believe it….”
“Liar.”
“……”
“You must have stayed in this dead-end place because you wanted to do something with your own hands. Because you hate being helpless alone. Because you desperately feel your own inadequacy.”
Ga-eul slowly raised her head. There was no smile in the eyes that met hers. How many days had it been? Since she stayed here.
The Prometheus group, well. They were strangely kind. They answered all of Ga-eul’s questions, and they didn’t stop her from going anywhere. They even let her go down to the area where the Hunters were imprisoned. Ga-young kindly took her hand and guided Ga-eul. Ga-eul closed her mouth when she saw the Hunter locked in a cage, banging his head against the wall.
‘It must have been a threat….’
A threat that if you don’t cooperate, you’ll end up in here too.
Anyway, these people were no different from ordinary people, except that they occasionally muttered prayers into the air and experimented on the Hunters. Ga-eul put down the sandwich and replied.
“Does anything change if I admit that?”
“Hmm~ Your mindset changes. And when your mindset changes, you can do more things.”
“……”
“And I like people who try to do something. Because those people used to change the world.”
“Is that so.”
“Face your own weakness. Who knows? You might be able to do more.”
“…Why are you telling me that?”
“Huh?”
“I’m an Awakened. Don’t you hate the Awakened?”
“Well, I don’t know. I strangely feel like I know the student’s heart a little… so I tried to be nosy. You can ignore me if you don’t want to hear it~”
Ga-young waved her hand and got up from her seat, kicking the scattered toys. Ga-eul stared blankly at her face reflected in the glass, then shifted her gaze to her back. And asked.
“What about you?”
“Huh?”
“Have you faced your own weakness?”
She slowly turned her head. Ga-eul was reflected in the strange heat swirling in her eyes. The corners of her lips twitched up.
“Of course?”
“……”
“I faced it very desperately.”
Bang, the door closed. Ga-eul didn’t touch the glass. And with a determined look on her face, she opened the notebook again.
“Then I’ll be going…. I can’t be away for too long.”
Min-jun bowed and hurried out of the reception room. Eui-jae, left alone, leaned forward and clasped his hands together.
Once Min-jun started talking, he poured out a lot of stories. Most of them were stories that Ga-young had summarized and told him, but Eui-jae listened carefully. Teammates who wanted to be treated more but lacked materials and finances, Lee Sa-young who was in danger of being abandoned to die, and Ga-young who raised her hand like a savior at that time.
Min-jun, who was talking as if a hole had been drilled in a dam, asked carefully.
“Come to think of it…. Is that child healthy?”
“……”
“When I heard that Ga-young… was affiliated with Prometheus, that child was the first thing that came to my mind, but I couldn’t find her. I have no way to contact J… and when I asked my former teammates, they all said they didn’t know.”
Min-jun, who was hesitating, seemed kind. At that time, he probably thought it was best to send her to Ga-young. He judged that it would be better to entrust the child to a colleague he worked with than to kill the child without being able to do anything. There was no malice. Eui-jae cleared his throat, which was stuffy for no reason, and replied.
“She’s healthy. She still has some… painful spots, but.”
“Really? Oh, my God. Thank you, God. Ah…”
“……”
“Oh, I was so worried…. I was worried that she might die or be subjected to strange things….”
Min-jun stretched out his arms towards the sky, then put his hands together and muttered a prayer. The tears welling up in his eyes and the reddened tip of his nose were sincere. Eui-jae stared blankly at his face and thought.
If I had a chance to go back to the past.
‘…….’
Would I have chosen to stay by Lee Sa-young’s side?
‘No.’
He would agonize countless times and hesitate countless times. Nevertheless, Eui-jae would eventually have headed for the Rift. Not because he was pushed, but by his own choice.
Lee Sa-young probably knew it too. That’s why she waited for so long without a promise. She must have thought about it countless times. How to hold onto Cha Eui-jae. And….
‘Did she think it was impossible….’
Is that why she told him not to worry and that he wasn’t responsible? Because no matter what she did, Eui-jae would have left. To save even one person who might be alive.
This was an inevitable necessity, so it is meaningless to ask for responsibility.
Eui-jae pressed down on his throbbing temple. Then she could have just said that, what? I don’t need it? I feel bad? Meddling? Youuu? Resentment surged. Eui-jae jumped up from his seat. The librarian, who was coming into the room, stopped in surprise. Eui-jae gestured to the librarian.
“I’m done here, so I’ll be leaving, that… Nam Woo-jin Hunter’s secretary. The little kid.”
“Yes? Yes.”
“Please tell him thank you.”
Incheon, huh. Eui-jae took out his cell phone and called Mackerel.