Splash. It sounded like something dropping into water, sending ripples outward. But that wasn’t a noise a solid cube should make when hitting a hard floor.
The floor where the cube had landed rippled gently, rising and falling as though it were fluid. Then, suddenly, the ground beneath their feet gave way, sinking downward. It wasn’t just a sensation—it was real. Their vision plummeted rapidly, and in an instant, everything turned pitch black.
Feeling as though he were being pulled into the deep sea, Han-gyeom instinctively shut his eyes tight and held his breath. If he didn’t, it truly felt like he might drown—as if he’d been submerged underwater.
He gripped the palm-sized ice apple in his cardigan pocket.
From its cold surface, a soft warmth slowly radiated, quickly dulling the sharp edges of Han-gyeom’s anxiety. He’d already felt this sensation during earlier tests, so just the memory of the now-likely pitch-black ice apple was enough to help calm his racing heart.
As soon as he regained some composure, he let go of it and tightened his hold around Jae-woo, practically embracing him as he helped support him upright.
The unfamiliar feeling only lasted a moment.
Han-gyeom then felt solid ground once more at his feet—suddenly, without warning, as if the earth had returned. The unpredictability of it caused his legs to buckle beneath him. He staggered and fell to his knees. Song Jae-woo, whom he had been supporting, collapsed along with him.
It had only lasted a few seconds, but the unfamiliarity and intensity of the spatial shift left them both dizzy. Jae-woo seemed just as disoriented, pressing a hand to his temple and letting out a quiet groan.
Han-gyeom felt his head spin and quickly pulled the small ice apple from his pocket to check it. Not much time had passed since he let go of it, so the dark energy swirling inside the ice apple hadn’t fully dissipated yet. Thanks to that residual imprint aura, his mind gradually began to settle.
“…”
Hearing another groan beside him, he shoved the ice apple back into his pocket and hurriedly turned to Jae-woo’s face.
“You okay?”
“Mmm.”
Still dazed, Jae-woo gave a slow nod, his head lolling slightly as he let out a weak laugh.
“Thanks, hyung. For coming with me.”
He murmured his thanks to Han-gyeom with blank, glassy eyes before struggling to stand.
Han-gyeom rose as well and lifted his gaze.
Right in front of them—unexpectedly—was a statue of the Virgin Mary. Oddly out of place.
It hadn’t been properly maintained; cracks ran across the sculpture in various places, and it was covered in a thick layer of dust. As if black dust had gathered near her eyes and melted from water, there were long streaks of what looked like dark tears running all the way down to her chin—eerily striking.
They stood inside an abandoned, old cathedral, neglected and weathered by time.
The only source of light came from a small chandelier hanging above the Virgin Mary statue on the ceiling.
Still wondering why they had been transported to such a place, Han-gyeom suddenly flinched at the sound of a voice from behind.
“Welcome.”
It was a voice he definitely recognized.
Before Han-gyeom could even turn around to confirm who it was, Song Jae-woo had already bolted toward the source.
“Hyung!”
The hyung Jae-woo called out to wasn’t Han-gyeom.
Jae-woo rushed over, tripping over his own feet as he hurled himself into the man’s arms.
“Hyung, hyung! I did what you told me to! So hurry and—!”
“Calm down, Jae-woo.”
The man patted Jae-woo’s back as he clung to him desperately, then looked past him and smiled at Han-gyeom.
“Save the affection for later. I need to talk to Han-gyeom first.”
“What do you mean?! I’m in a rush! I feel like I’m gonna die!”
“Hoo…”
With a deliberately audible sigh, the man peeled Jae-woo off him. His tone turned cold, a sharp contrast to the gentle warmth from just a moment ago, pressing down on Jae-woo like ice.
“I hate disobedient little shits more than anything.”
“Ugh…”
Jae-woo paled in an instant, fumbling over his words, not knowing what to do.
“S-sorry, hyung. I wasn’t trying to… I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I just…”
At a single glance from the man, Jae-woo looked ready to drop to his knees.
Watching Jae-woo tremble pathetically, Han-gyeom finally stepped in.
“A light guiding won’t hurt, right? Just enough to keep him from collapsing.”
The man, who had been staring icily at Jae-woo, shifted his gaze to Han-gyeom. In the brief moment his eyes moved, his expression transformed completely—those eyes turned warm, soft, impossibly gentle. It was almost awe-inspiring.
“Alright.”
He gave a short but affectionate reply, then reached out a hand toward Jae-woo. Understanding the gesture instantly, Jae-woo’s face lit up and he grasped the hand tightly with both of his.
The man’s eyes, still fixed on Han-gyeom, turned a vivid red in an instant. Even in the darkness, they glowed as if daring Han-gyeom to watch closely.
A crimson current began to swirl from the man’s hand. It shimmered like a mirage before coiling tightly around Jae-woo’s hands, almost binding them together, and slithered up his sleeves like a snake, disappearing into the fabric.
“Hhngh…”
Jae-woo’s body shuddered as he straightened his back. Eyes rolling upward in rapture, he trembled and let out a silent, twitching smile, lips pulling involuntarily.
The hand guiding lasted barely twenty seconds.
During that time, the man—Kang Woo-chan—did not take his eyes off Han-gyeom for even a moment. Then he abruptly pulled his hand back from Jae-woo.
“That’s enough.”
“Hyung, just a little more…!”
Only then did Woo-chan’s red eyes finally land on Jae-woo. The intense, blood-like crimson in his gaze was so vivid it felt like it might devour Jae-woo whole.
Jae-woo’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped back. Just moments ago, he’d been stumbling from dizziness, but after that brief guiding session, his complexion looked markedly better.
Woo-chan smiled gently as he noticed Jae-woo quickly dropping his gaze.
“Wait outside. Hyung has a lot to talk about with Han-gyeom.”
“…Okay.”
Woo-chan lightly patted Jae-woo’s head, almost affectionately ruffling his hair, then turned his gaze toward the pitch darkness beyond the platform, where not even a single light was lit, and gave a command.
“Take him.”
Someone within the darkness responded—not just one person.
Subtle movements stirred all around them. They had been sitting quietly in the shadows, hidden so well that neither Han-gyeom nor Jae-woo had noticed until now.
At least ten people stepped forward into the faint light cast by the chandelier above the altar. And judging by the lingering pressure of unseen gazes from farther back, there were likely at least a dozen or more present in total.
Everyone who revealed themselves appeared to be in their twenties. Some even looked so young they’d just come of age.
As Han-gyeom tensed, his eyes caught sight of a woman waving at him. Her arm was in a cast, and though she had short hair and wore plain clothes, her appearance struck him as familiar.
‘That woman from back then…’
This was the first time he’d gotten a clear look at her face due to the flashbang aftermath, but his instincts told him it was the same woman who had tried to kidnap him on the cruise during the yacht party. Standing beside her was a man with invisibility abilities, watching Han-gyeom with a gaze that mixed friendliness and wariness.
Alone on the platform with no escape route, Han-gyeom swept his eyes over the group slowly surrounding him, his tension rising with each passing second. His gaze landed on another man—the one who had attacked with telekinesis on the cruise—reaching for Jae-woo’s arm.
“Hey, come on. Let’s go.”
The man exuded an ominous aura as he tried to drag Jae-woo away. Han-gyeom’s voice cut through the moment, cold and firm, directed at Kang Woo-chan—undoubtedly the one leading them.
“Keep Jae-woo where I can see him. Otherwise, we have nothing to talk about.”
“What? You don’t seem to understand your situation right now…”
The man who had tried to pull Jae-woo away grimaced, his tone growing threatening. But it wasn’t Han-gyeom who responded.
“What situation?”
Woo-chan tilted his head with a crooked grin and looked directly at the man.
The man, who had looked like he might start barking orders at Han-gyeom, flinched and immediately shut his mouth.
“I asked you, what situation? Han-gyeom’s just here to talk with us and say hi. Am I misunderstanding something? Hm?”
“N-no, it’s just…”
The man faltered, avoiding Woo-chan’s gaze. His lips parted, but he ended up lowering his head and muttering softly.
“Sorry. I overstepped.”
“Glad you realize that.”
Woo-chan’s smile was warm, but his voice was icy and sharp.
In contrast, when he spoke to Han-gyeom, his tone turned so sweet it sounded like it had been dipped in honey.
“Then I’ll have Jae-woo stay here too. Ah, but if the others are bothering you, should I ask them to give us some space? They all came running because they wanted to see you.”
At those words, Han-gyeom once again swept his gaze across the people inside the cathedral.
Some eyes still held a trace of wariness, but most of them, strangely, were looking at him with genuine warmth. A few even started waving the moment their eyes met his, grinning brightly like overexcited fans.
Knowing they were all Espers—test subjects from the research facility—made the weight of their gazes even heavier.
What do they expect from me?
Han-gyeom turned his eyes away from their overwhelming stares and locked onto Kang Woo-chan instead.
“Let’s talk just the two of us. Leave Jae-woo, but send everyone else out.”
Woo-chan smiled gently, without a hint of protest.
“If that’s what you want, then of course.”
