Catastrophes were dubbed such because they brought despair, seizing what was precious.
Few were fortunate enough to evade the disasters that befell the world. Most suffered adversity, finding themselves steeped in misfortune. The boy before him was no exception.
Powder trickled from his white hand, swept away futilely by the wind blowing in the opposite direction. Kang Sihyun looked down at the ground as he watched the boy, who could spare less than three hours of free time, scatter his aunt's ashes in front of their home. Flecks of powder caught his eye, scattered across the grey concrete.
Soon, even those remnants would be carried off by the wind, trampled underfoot by passersby, leaving hardly a trace. It was a modest and fleeting end for someone's death.
The boy, having scattered all the ashes, silently stared at the empty box he held. He took a deep breath, filling the gap with a heavy, solemn silence.
His remembrance, as he slowly caressed the empty box, was plain. With his head bowed, looking at the ashes he had spread, he finally turned to look at Sihyun.
"…Shall we go?"
His voice was unusually thin, sounding the most fragile since Sihyun had come to know him. As if a single touch could break him, yet he managed a faint smile, as if to say he was still there. Sihyun hesitated for a moment, allowing the boy some more time here before a car honked impatiently, signaling that it was time to leave.
It was a harsh reminder.
The young man of merely eighteen wasn’t given enough time to mourn properly. Sihyun, swallowing a sigh, reluctantly moved forward.
Even with someone's death, there was no time for a proper funeral. People were dying by the dozens at any given time, and those who could, had to act.
To prevent more deaths.
To save even a handful of lives.
Therefore, they couldn’t afford to spend much time mourning the dead. Although Sihyun understood this logically, his heart remained heavy. If the sight of a stranger’s death affected him this much, how much more so would it be for Yoo Seowoo, considering the deceased was his aunt?
The boy, who had not shed a single tear, was swallowing all his emotions, silently walking towards him. Sihyun matched his pace, feeling the boy's fragile state, and together they climbed into the car.
January 31st.
A month had passed since the reappearance of Gula.
The world remained caught in an unending catastrophe, with time flowing through someone’s death.
And it was the same the next day.
***
It was a suffocating space. There, Sihyun walked on black water. The murky, thick water seemed to wet the hem of his clothes with each step.
With every step, a squelching sound followed. Walking against the strong currents, a figure in a black robe appeared. A being that had been appearing in Sihyun’s dreams every day lately.
The entity from the murals.
A transcendent being who had witnessed Gula’s atrocities and had trapped him. An omnipotent entity that had gambled with Kang Sihyun and pulled him into this world.
“God…”
Instinctively knowing its identity, he spoke out, and the robed figure lifted its head. Inside the robe, several eyes glittered.
Red, blue, and black irises.
At first glance, it was so chilling that even the hairs stood on end, but within weeks, it had become familiar, no longer fear-inducing nor engulfing him in an abyssal sensation. Sihyun pressed on against the current.
Regardless of the heavy sweat or difficulty, he kept walking, hoping that reaching God might change something, might grant him something, driven by a desperate hope even though he knew the same outcome awaited.
God simply watched Sihyun’s struggle without a word. After an exhausting effort, Sihyun finally reached God. As their eyes met, the robed figure gently placed a large hand on Sihyun’s head.
It’s not time yet.
A profound, dual-toned voice echoed strongly in his ears. The origin of the sound was unclear – whether it came from the figure before him, the sky, or beneath the water.
As he tried to discern the source, the figure waved its hand, dismissing him lightly like one would swat away a fly, causing a surge of water to engulf Sihyun. He was pulled down, deeper and deeper, resistance futile.
I look forward to the moment we can converse.
The voice, sounding almost prophetic, faded away. Sihyun, about to suffocate, suddenly opened his eyes.
“…….”
Two months had passed, yet the unfamiliar ceiling greeting him each morning hadn’t become any more familiar. Breathing slightly rough, Sihyun wiped away the cold sweat and closed his eyes against the
oncoming dizziness. Every morning since Gula’s return began this way.
Always the same dream, waking up the same way to a heavy morning. Thanks to that, Sihyun’s day always started soaked in cold sweat.
“Again, that dream…”
The dream with the figure in the black robe.
Sihyun believed it wasn’t just a nightmare or a meaningless dream but a real encounter with God through the dream. His senses, every nerve, told him so, leaving no room for doubt.
He kept postponing their conversation, always saying it wasn’t time yet, but when would that time come? Was it referring to Gula’s next descent?
Just the thought made his eyelashes flutter, his body recognizing and accepting the presence of Gula before his mind did. Checking his phone after calming his pounding heart, Sihyun saw the date.
February 28th.
Time was both fast and slow. Before he knew it, the world had reached two months since Gula’s return.
Unexpected, or rather, only forewarned to Sihyun, the apocalypse began, and the world changed rapidly. Irregulars appeared incessantly, disrupting people’s peaceful lives, causing schools to cease normal operations and businesses to falter. Awakened individuals were conscripted into national disaster response efforts.
What was thought to be a short-lived situation persisted for over a month, prompting companies to switch to remote work and all schools to opt for online classes, locking their doors and only conducting lessons via video. The only exceptions were the awakening education institutions, Choaegang High School and its counterparts.
That didn’t mean those schools operated normally. With all students being awakeners, it wasn’t that they couldn’t conduct online classes; it was simply that there were no students at the schools.
Graduating seniors, unable to have a ceremony, left school receiving diplomas by mail, marking the end of their three years of school life. Sihyun and the other sophomores, unable to hold an opening ceremony due to the disaster, were temporarily affiliated with guilds.
Daun and Jihye entered the female awakeners’ guild, ‘Yeolhwa’, and the rest were assigned to Redem’s class A. The former second-year class A students, now third-year, became official members of Muam, the country’s second-largest guild, desiring additional top-tier awakeners.
Two months had passed living this way, yet the daily routine of staying in accommodations provided by Redem instead of the school dormitories hadn’t grown familiar. As usual, upon waking up in the lodging, Sihyun heard a thud, the sound of the ground trembling, and headed to the bathroom.
Beep, beep, beep.
While washing up, the bracelet on his wrist beeped, signaling a rift had opened within 100 meters and assistance was needed.
Having adapted to everything else but the constantly appearing irregulars, Sihyun pressed the bracelet to respond. The number of irregulars he had dealt with over the past two months was slowly reaching double digits.
After donning the combat uniform provided by the guild and determining the location of the rift, he opened the door. Heading downstairs, he encountered other guild members from Redem on the first floor. Sihyun greeted them with a nod and chose one of the cars waiting.
“Seems like you’ve received a support request.”
Whether by luck or misfortune, he ended up in the same vehicle as Yoo Seowoo, who had boarded first among over five cars. Sihyun scrutinized the boy’s face as the car started, noticing his dark circles, exaggerated by his pale skin due to lack of sleep.
The increasing number of rifts had been exhausting most awakeners lately, but today Seowoo looked particularly worn.
Thinking of asking how he was, Sihyun closed his mouth, thinking better of it, and leaned his head against the car window. Fatigue seeped into the silence, briefly swirling within the sliding car. As usual, it was Seowoo who broke the silence first.
“Did you get some sleep?”
“About three hours.”
“That’s tough.”
“And you?”
“Well, I went out two days ago and just got back.”
Crazy.
Sihyun frowned at the nonchalant response. Saying he went out two days ago meant he had been up for three days straight, responding to support requests. Sihyun turned to look at the boy, who seemed to treat his exhaustion lightly.
The sight of him, faintly smiling, appeared in Sihyun’s view. He seemed almost serenely insane.
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