His mind blurred for a moment. A wave of dizziness hit him, and as the tension drained from his body, his strength gave out. Seo Eui-woo quickly caught him, gripping him tightly to support him.
But just then, a sharp cry rang out from atop the outer perimeter wall.
“Step back! Move away! Lieutenant Park is unstable!”
The outer perimeter wall was littered with countless corpses. Among them, the surviving awakened ones were tending to the wounded with healing factors. But at the center of the injured, something was going terribly wrong.
“Risk level for berserk status?”
“It’s already too late!”
The tragedy unfolded in an instant.
Without warning, an intangible force erupted from one of the special operations soldiers.
A chill ran down Jae-jin’s spine as his gaze instinctively snapped toward the soldier.
The man, called Lieutenant Park, looked physically fine at first glance. There were no visible wounds, and his limbs were intact and in place. But Kwon Jae-jin saw it immediately—
He was already torn apart.
Like a water-filled bag splitting open and spilling its contents, his ability core was beginning to rupture, leaking unstable power.
The energy surging from him was dark and viscous.
Ominous, wicked, and utterly malignant.
It was a familiar sensation.
It was the same kind of power buried deep within Seo Eui-woo’s abyss. An unstable ability, thrown into severe imbalance from a lack of guiding.
That was exactly what was happening now.
Lieutenant Park had overused his abilities in the desperate struggle to survive this battle. And to make things worse, he had likely missed the timing to take his guiding substitute medication.
Now, he had become nothing more than a victim—consumed by the imbalance.
Berserk.
He was in full berserk mode.
“Khrr… Kugh! Khaaaagh!”
Lieutenant Park screamed in agony, his wails monstrous.
The core embedded in his chest cracked apart with a sickening zzzekk—and his rampage began.
The very ability that had once been his trusted ally, an extension of himself, had now broken free of his control. It was no longer his power to wield—it was devouring him from the inside out.
Everyone already knew what happened to an esper who went berserk.
No one needed to say it.
That thing was no longer an esper.
It had already become a monster.
Losing all reason, their abilities spiraling out of control, they would unleash their power recklessly in every direction—until, in the end, the ruptured core would completely explode. Like a nuclear bomb. Devastating everything nearby.
And, of course, there was no way to save an esper who had gone berserk.
The only option was to put them down before the damage spread any further.
The special operations soldiers, who had been using healing factors to treat the wounded, hastily shifted into combat stance. But Lieutenant Park’s rampage was faster.
Horrifying masses of uncontrolled power erupted from him in thick, writhing tendrils. Those caught in the blast were flung aside, rolling across the ground alongside the corpses.
Most were thrown off their feet, but one person remained standing.
A familiar face.
Major Mateo—no, Captain Mateo, since he had been demoted—had deployed a protective barrier and was approaching the berserk Lieutenant Park.
Dark energy bled across Park’s face like ink seeping into water. His ability, now beyond control, had consumed him completely, engulfing his entire form. There was no coming back from this.
The soldiers who had been knocked down quickly regained their footing, providing cover fire from behind. Meanwhile, Captain Mateo, shield raised, pushed forward—closing in on the core of the berserk esper.
Luckily, this was still the early stage of the rampage.
If the core was destroyed now, the damage could still be contained.
Mateo reached for the pistol strapped to his thigh.
He disengaged the safety and aimed straight at Lieutenant Park’s heart.
Gunfire rang out in rapid succession.
Lieutenant Park, now devoid of rational thought, lunged at Mateo. But either his rank had been too low, or Mateo’s abilities had improved far beyond expectation, because the protective barrier held firm.
Jae-jin’s mind flickered with an oddly misplaced thought—so it really had been incredible when Seo Eui-woo had shattered that same kind of barrier like an eggshell.
At that moment, Mateo’s bullet drilled deep into Park’s core.
A direct hit.
The impact shattered the sphere.
And the moment the esper’s core was destroyed, the monstrous energy that had once radiated so terrifyingly crumbled away—dissipating like dust in the wind.
His body collapsed.
Only a blackened corpse remained.
His body, stained in uneven patches of darkness, a grotesque mark of imbalance.
Half of his face and neck were pitch black, while the rest retained a semblance of his original features. He had died before his rampage could reach its peak—this, at least, had prevented something far worse.
“…Haaah.”
Jae-jin finally let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
It was only then that he became aware—he hadn’t been breathing.
His vision spun.
Seo Eui-woo grabbed him, using coordinate shift.
The world tilted, his surroundings flipping upside down as his body was yanked through space.
The sudden dizziness hit him like a wave, and instinctively, Jae-jin clung to Seo Eui-woo.
He felt like he was about to pass out.
***
It was the middle of the universe.
Beneath the dazzling Milky Way, under the radiant glow of Saturn, Kwon Jae-jin stood alone.
There were no endless waves of creatures charging at him.
No mature, 24-year-old Seo Eui-woo by his side.
Only silence.
‘Ha…’
Jae-jin swallowed a shaky breath.
Was it truly over?
Was everything… really finished?
He reached up and removed his goggles, tossing them aside. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he slowly lowered his eyelids.
Right now, he didn’t want to think about anything.
He just wanted to see Seo Eui-woo.
The moment he woke from this dream, he would hold onto Seo Eui-woo and never let go. Whether in bed, or soaking together in the bathtub, he wanted to do nothing but breathe with him.
He needed his warmth, his breath—everything about him.
He longed to stare into those unmistakable gray eyes. Those sharp, gleaming irises, set against the stark contrast of the whites of his eyes—just looking at them would be enough to put him at ease.
God, he needed to rest.
‘Jae-jin.’
But then, a slow, languid voice echoed from behind him.
Jae-jin didn’t turn around.
Just this once, just for today—he wanted to ignore it.
The presence of the 24-year-old Seo Eui-woo in this dream, the first timeline Seo Eui-woo, was undeniably suspicious. But just for now, Jae-jin wanted to pretend he didn’t notice.
He was too exhausted to confront him, too drained to dig any deeper. His face was pale, his body heavy with fatigue.
‘Jae-jin…’
The 24-year-old Seo Eui-woo closed the distance, his voice dropping into an insistent murmur that curled around Jae-jin’s ears.
Then, fingers brushed against his waist.
Jae-jin instinctively tried to pull away—but it was too late.
A firm, muscular arm locked around him, pulling him into an unyielding embrace.
The presence against his back was overwhelming.
Solid. Fierce. Unrelenting.
‘Let go. Get off me.’
Jae-jin clawed at Seo Eui-woo’s arm, trying to pry it away. But Eui-woo didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his lips against the curve of Jae-jin’s ear and whispering,
‘Just for a little while.’
‘I don’t want this. Let me go.’
“Just stay like this. I don’t want to be doing this either.”
“What?”
“But… you put on the goggles for me. That made me happy. So…”
“…”
Of course, there were questions.
What exactly was this dream? Who was the Seo Eui-woo that kept appearing here?
There was doubt, too.
Had Kwon Jae-jin really returned alone?
Four years later, after the gate had erupted in the mansion courtyard and Kwon Jae-jin had died—what had Seo Eui-woo done?
He had deliberately avoided thinking about it.
What had happened to first timeline Seo Eui-woo after Jae-jin’s death…
But dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.
There was no way to go back to him. It was all over.
All Jae-jin could do was hope, in a vague and distant way, that he had been okay.
That he had found a proper S-Class Guide, someone real—not a mutant guide like Jae-jin.
After everything, they had somehow ended up together.
They had barely managed to become lovers.
But they had never even had the chance to start a proper relationship. The entire thing had been unstable from the very beginning…
Maybe it would have been better if Seo Eui-woo had just forgotten him entirely.
First timeline Seo Eui-woo had erased Jae-jin’s memories, after all.
His family, his childhood, his past—everything had been wiped away.
Seo Eui-woo, too…
Seo Eui-woo himself… should have erased Jae-jin as well. Forgotten everything and lived on as if they had never met in the first place.
That was all Jae-jin could hope for.
That he wouldn’t suffer too much.
That he wouldn’t torment himself alone.
That he wouldn’t be consumed by regret or self-recrimination.
That he could let go, tell himself it was an accident—something inevitable—and move forward.
Even though Jae-jin knew better than anyone that it could never be that easy.
Seo Eui-woo—who would have done anything, even erasing memories or putting shackles on him, just to keep Jae-jin alive and bound to his side—
Seo Eui-woo, who had been nothing but obsession.
Jae-jin didn’t even want to imagine how he must have lost his mind, staring at Jae-jin’s torn-apart corpse.
“So… what do you plan to do with me?”
Jae-jin dug up the box he had buried deep inside himself.
The one he had locked away the moment he decided to start fresh with second timeline Seo Eui-woo.
Now, he had no choice but to unlock it, open it—
And face the first timeline Seo Eui-woo he had never wanted to confront.
There was no other option.
He had to ask.
