After finishing his shower, he took the emergency elevator down to the only underground bunker that was still intact.
This was the emergency shelter that could only be accessed through registered biometric authentication.
He had set fire to the mansion twice and still hadn’t managed to reach this place before. Yet, in the end, he found himself here. It felt like he was experiencing everything in this life that he hadn’t in his previous one.
Seo Eui-woo laid out fresh sheets in the inner section of the bunker for Kwon Jae-jin, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. The moment Jae-jin lay down, he passed out as if a switch had been flipped, sinking straight into a deep black void.
As if waiting for him to fall asleep, the dream began immediately.
Saturn and its moons came into view, and beyond the Milky Way, a horde of creatures was approaching.
The sight of the monster legion, now noticeably closer, made him instinctively furrow his brows—just as his hands suddenly grew heavy.
Looking down, he found his grip naturally holding onto his beloved rifle.
Not only that, but he was also wearing gloves, and his outfit had changed.
A rigid black combat uniform with multiple pockets, a tight black leather harness strapped firmly across his chest—he was even fully equipped with goggles over his head.
Kwon Jae-jin was wearing the awakened warrior battle attire that Seo Eui-woo always donned.
Startled, Jae-jin instinctively reached for the back of his neck.
His bare skin met his fingertips—nothing was hanging there.
“You’re late.”
Seo Eui-woo’s voice came from behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know.
The boy had shed his youthful features, standing as a mature man. He was taller than he was now, his once wild and untamed gaze now settled into something calmer. His hair, as always, was parted to the left.
This was Seo Eui-woo at twenty-four—someone who now only existed in Kwon Jae-jin’s memories.
“Look, Jae-jin. There are still so many of them left.”
Seo Eui-woo extended a finger toward the approaching creatures. But there was no need to point them out—Jae-jin could already see them clearly.
“I know. I won’t run away anymore.”
Jae-jin loaded his rifle. Taking a steady stance, he swiftly began taking them down one by one.
Perhaps because this was his dream, his accuracy had improved significantly. One after another, he effortlessly landed headshots, killing them in rapid succession.
“You’re doing well. You’ve gotten a lot better.”
“Is this why? Because of the Creature Wave?”
Jae-jin asked in a calm tone. Even as he spoke, his aim remained steady. He wasn’t relying on his eyes—he shot purely by instinct, and not a single bullet missed its mark.
“Did I look pathetic to you? Knowing the future four years ahead and still trying to run away?”
“Are you appearing in my dreams over and over just to tell me to stop hiding, stop fooling around with romance, and come out to fight?”
Even though he was focused on firing ahead, he could feel Seo Eui-woo’s gaze from the side—intense, piercing straight through him.
“Hmm… We’ve barely even met a few times, and yet you’re already calling this persistent?”
“Besides, I told you to endure, didn’t I?”
“What?”
“It’s not time to resent me yet. That’s still far off.”
Seo Eui-woo muttered lazily as he reached out.
For a moment, Jae-jin thought he was going to adjust his shooting stance—but that wasn’t it.
His dry fingers brushed against Jae-jin’s cheek, pressing into his skin as they slowly swept downward.
Trailing along the side of his jaw, tracing half his face with a deliberate touch.
Then, gently, Eui-woo tucked Jae-jin’s fallen strands of hair behind his ear. Silky black locks slid one by one along the curve of his round earlobe.
“Later.”
“…….”
“After everything’s over. Later.”
Jae-jin sucked in a shallow breath. He swallowed the bitter aftertaste lingering on his tongue before responding coldly.
“There is no ‘later.’ By then, I’ll have forgotten you completely.”
Suddenly, Eui-woo’s hand clenched.
His large palm grabbed a handful of Jae-jin’s jet-black hair, clutching it as if he wanted to hold onto him.
But it was only for a moment.
Soon, the grip loosened, the restraint slipping away.
Seo Eui-woo, as if nothing had happened, withdrew his hand and instead flicked the goggles resting atop Jae-jin’s head.
“Put them on.”
“……?”
“Never mind. I’ll do it for you.”
He grasped the rigid frame of the goggles and slid them over Jae-jin’s face, positioning them so they fit snugly over the bridge of his nose.
The way he did it—carefully, precisely—felt even more unsettling than when he had grabbed Jae-jin’s hair.
“What are you doing? I don’t even know how to use these.”
Jae-jin fired a few more rounds, this time missing his mark.
“I know. Just try them. Once you get used to it, it’ll help.”
“No, I mean—”
Try what, exactly?
Wasn’t this the kind of equipment controlled by eye movement?
What was the point of using something he’d never even handled in reality? What difference would it make to put them on in a dream?
The rejection was meaningless—before he knew it, the goggles had been fitted snugly onto Kwon Jae-jin’s face.
Seo Eui-woo meticulously checked to make sure his ears weren’t pinched, that no strands of hair had gotten caught. Then, pressing the side of the goggles, he turned on the display.
At that moment, creatures and blue holograms flickered into view right in front of Jae-jin’s eyes.
“Since it’s your first time, I’ll set it to auto mode.”
“What the…?”
He couldn’t understand any of this.
Was this just a dream? A projection of his subconscious?
Had he created this dream to escape reality?
No—back when he first started dreaming of space and Saturn, it had definitely been about escapism. But at some point, it had deviated from that.
The dreams had become more suspicious, more elaborate, until now, he wasn’t even sure if they were truly coming from his own subconscious.
Before he could dwell on his doubts, the holographic display flooded his vision with endless streams of information.
The number of creatures, their species, their distances—data appeared one after another in rapid succession.
It was overwhelming and unfamiliar.
“Ugh, this is too much. What the hell is this?”
“Haha.”
“…Don’t laugh with that face. It’s annoying as hell.”
Annoyed, Jae-jin recklessly fired his gun. He wasn’t even trying to aim properly, yet his posture, reaction speed, and focus were all polished—flawless.
He might not be at the level of an elite soldier, but he was far beyond an ordinary civilian.
Black blood poured through the dark expanse of space like a river, flowing from the creatures he had slaughtered.
Dead bodies piled up beneath his feet. Creatures leaped over fallen ones, more following from behind, wave after wave—no matter how many he shot down, they never stopped coming.
At some point, sweat began to soak through his clothes.
Yet, he was too immersed to notice.
The sounds around him faded.
Seo Eui-woo’s presence disappeared.
His resentment toward him, his forgotten family, the Center, Supreme Commander Choi Yul—every burden weighing on his mind slowly dissolved.
His thoughts became clear.
Even though he was panting, exhaustion never came.
The only thing that existed was the target in front of him.
***
He slept for nearly an entire day before finally waking up.
Maybe it was because he had rested so well, but his body felt significantly better. A slight fever lingered, and his throat was a little dry, but overall, he felt refreshed.
As he turned his head, checking his surroundings, he immediately noticed that the view was different from usual.
He wasn’t in a bed—he was lying on sheets spread over the floor.
And the walls weren’t wallpapered—they looked like thick metal plating.
Only then did the memories of the past day resurface.
“Ah, right… The mansion was destroyed. I came underground and fell asleep.”
As Jae-jin pieced together the situation, Seo Eui-woo called out to him.
“Jae-jin.”
As always, Seo Eui-woo was right beside him.
However, unlike usual, he wasn’t lying next to him with his arms wrapped around his waist.
Seo Eui-woo was sitting slanted against the wall, with Kwon Jae-jin lying between his legs, using his chest as a pillow instead of an actual one.
It was a position that allowed him to react instantly to any ambush, ready to counterattack at a moment’s notice.
Jae-jin lifted his head, studying Eui-woo’s face. Their eyes met—sharp, gray, and completely focused, devoid of any traces of drowsiness. Now that he thought about it, even his voice had sounded too crisp, too alert.
Unlike Jae-jin, who had just woken up from deep sleep, Seo Eui-woo looked as if he hadn’t rested at all.
“…Eui-woo, have you been sitting like this the whole time?”
“Hm? Ah, yeah.”
“And sleep? You didn’t sleep at all?”
“I’m used to insomnia. But more importantly, was your sleeping position uncomfortable? You kept tossing and turning.”
Seo Eui-woo slid his arms under Jae-jin’s armpits and pulled him toward himself.
Jae-jin’s body, still wrapped in blankets, was effortlessly lifted into Eui-woo’s embrace.
No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never quite get used to Eui-woo’s strength—the way he handled the weight of a fully grown man as if it were nothing.
“The floor was hard, wasn’t it? And probably cold, too… Any muscle pain? Are you feeling numb anywhere? Want me to massage your back?”
“Ah… I’m fine. I slept well.”
“Really? Then what about your stomach? You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
At a slight flick of Eui-woo’s eyes, emergency rations and bottled water stored in another section of the bunker floated toward them.
The packaging unsealed itself, and the water bottle cap twisted open on its own.
“The kitchen was destroyed. For now, just eat this. You need to eat before we head out.”
Head out…
“Head out”…!
That single, simple verb slammed into his ears like a gunshot.
His hair stood on end, and his drowsiness vanished instantly.
Right. They had to go outside.
The rank evaluation test was scheduled.
He had to return to the Center.
But this time, officially.
In other words—through the front entrance.
