The sensation of his body falling endlessly downward was truly dreadful. After the Lord collapsed, even his vision had gone completely dark, so there was no need to keep his eyes open. The sound of rushing wind roared in his ears. If he kept falling like this, he’d die. Just as that thought crossed his mind, a curse rang out beside him. It was Hamin.
He didn’t know whether to consider it fortunate or unfortunate that they were falling together. Just as he let out a sigh, wondering how they’d ended up as companions on the road to the afterlife—
Grab.
Hamin caught him. Even while falling, Sihyeon’s eyes widened at how he managed to grab hold of him. Hamin’s arm wrapped around him, as if to protect him.
“Lee Hamin?”
The question slipped out, and Hamin frowned, tightening his hold as if telling him to stay quiet. Startled by the force of it, Sihyeon shut his mouth and gripped his staff. He barely had any mana left. Forcing it out, he cast a Barrier—
Cough.
Something hot and metallic spilled from his mouth. He thought he heard Hamin curse again.
If only he could Copy a Flight skill—but of all times, he had already used up today’s Copy limit during the fight with the Lord. He’d done everything he could. Now, all that was left was to quietly wait for the fall. Squeezing his eyes shut—
Boom!
His body slammed into the ground. Crack! The Barrier he’d barely managed to cast shattered pathetically.
“Ugh!”
Hamin let out a groan filled with pain. Because he had held Sihyeon while they fell, the impact Sihyeon received was relatively lighter. A beat later, Sihyeon pushed himself up and saw Hamin coughing up blood.
There was no need to ask if he was okay—he clearly wasn’t. He should’ve saved his mana to use Heal instead of casting a Barrier. Regret hit him. At that moment, Hamin coughed up blood again. Watching his body convulse, Sihyeon clenched his fist.
“Why did you shield me while we were falling?”
He asked quietly. Hamin lifted his eyes sharply, as if to say, that’s what you’re asking right now? At a loss for words, Sihyeon let out a breath and reached out his hand. Hamin’s violet eyes widened.
Ignoring that gaze, Sihyeon used Heal.
Gush.
This time, Sihyeon coughed up blood. He had used more mana than his limit. Feeling Hamin’s bones roughly set back into place, Sihyeon lowered his trembling, barely responsive hand. If he pushed any further, he felt like he’d be the one to die.
With no strength left even to move a finger, he collapsed flat onto his back. His vision filled with nothing but pitch-black darkness.
“…Idiot.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Hamin muttered weakly. After the long battle and then getting injured while shielding him, he had to be exhausted. And the same went for Sihyeon, who still found the energy to retort. Closing his eyes quietly, Sihyeon steadied his breathing. As he silently felt his diaphragm rise and fall, he could sense his mana slowly recovering, like a crawling snail. At this rate, he’d probably be able to move again in about an hour.
“…Any idea where we are?”
“Why would I?”
“I mean a guess.”
“Don’t know what it is, but it’s definitely somewhere weird.”
“I figured that much too.”
“So what are you getting at?”
“Never mind.”
Lying side by side, staring into empty space, Sihyeon sighed at the fruitless conversation. If he were going to die today, he thought it would be while fighting the Lord—but it seemed this place would be his grave instead.
His luck really was terrible.
He’d give anything to have even one lucky day.
Let’s not bother buying a lottery ticket, he thought.
Thud— dust fell from above, hitting him squarely. Sihyeon frowned as grit got into his eyes, making them sting.
“Hey, Kang Sihyeon.”
“…Can you move?”
“You think I’m you? I can handle this much.”
All he’d done was roughly set his bones, yet Hamin got up like a zombie. It had to hurt like hell, but he didn’t show it at all. Feeling like he should get up too, Sihyeon tried to push himself up with trembling arms—
Thud.
Hamin pressed a hand against his chest. Sihyeon dropped back onto the ground.
“What?”
“You think you’re me?”
It sounded similar to what he’d said earlier, but the meaning was different. Narrowing his eyes, Sihyeon asked what he meant, but Hamin just shook his head and let out a complicated sigh.
Why does he keep shaking his head like I’m hopeless?
Now fully accustomed to the darkness, Sihyeon could clearly see Hamin’s expression and movements. As he frowned in irritation, Hamin glanced around once before speaking after a long pause.
“Do you think the teachers will come rescue us?”
“Yeah.”
“Then choose.”
“…?”
Choose what?
“Option one: wait for the teachers to come down from above and rescue us. Option two: we try to find an exit ourselves.”
“Is there even an exit?”
“Open your eyes and look properly.”
Frowning, Hamin jerked his chin. Sihyeon followed his gaze—and his blue eyes landed on what Hamin was pointing at.
A staircase.
Since the sinkhole had formed suddenly, he’d assumed it was just dirt—but for some reason, there were stairs nearby, as if this place had been built from the beginning.
“…Do stairs just form naturally?”
“As if.”
“……”
Only then did Sihyeon understand Hamin’s proposal. Rather than lying here helplessly waiting for rescue that might never come, they should go down, figure out where they were, and maybe even find an exit.
Sihyeon stared at the unusually dark staircase before turning back to Hamin.
“What if it’s dangerous down there?”
“Then we come back.”
“Hmm.”
Falling silent, Sihyeon considered it. Honestly, he was completely drained and just wanted to lie here. As if reading his mind perfectly, Hamin said they could wait until he recovered a bit more before moving. Sihyeon stared straight ahead. From the ceiling above, where only bits of dirt occasionally fell, not a single trace of light could be seen. His thoughts moved slowly.
Before they fell, he’d seen the Lord’s body collapse over the hole. That meant the teachers would first have to move the Lord to even reach them. But how would they move something that big? And even if they did, there was still the issue of getting down here. The fall alone had taken quite some time—this place was deep. Even if the Lord was cleared, there was no guarantee the teachers or Association Awakened could reach them safely.
The only possible method would be for Haeun to descend using a Flight buff—but that would require waiting until his mana recovered. And Haeun’s mana regeneration was slower than others, so that would take a long time.
So—
“…Waiting a little should be fine.”
After calmly finishing his thoughts, Sihyeon spoke. Hamin walked ahead and leaned against a wall, sitting down. The sound of him steadying his breath echoed faintly.
“…Good thing I fell with you. If you’d fallen alone, who knows what would’ve happened.”
Hamin muttered quietly, as if taking credit. Sihyeon frowned and asked what he wanted to hear, but Hamin just sighed again. At this point, it was hard to tell what those sighs even meant.
Everyone’s getting harder to deal with.
“Are you turning into Yoo Seowoo too?”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re both saying things that make no sense.”
“Are you insane?”
Hamin grimaced and spat out a curse. Only then did Sihyeon feel like he was back to the Lee Hamin he knew, and he let out a small laugh. His fingertips were trembling less than before. Straightening his head—his neck stiff from looking at Hamin—he faced forward again.
There didn’t seem to be any need to continue the conversation, so silence settled between them. The darkness and stillness reminded Sihyeon of the quiet before dawn, and suddenly, he recalled the first night he slept in the dormitory.
Hamin, groaning and calling for his hyung like he was in pain.
“……”
Sihyeon opened his mouth once, then closed it again. There didn’t seem to be any point in asking.
As he maintained the silence, time passing became noticeable only through the slow replenishment of his mana. The trembling in his fingertips stopped. He had recovered enough mana to Heal Hamin again and cast at least one Barrier if needed.
Only then did Sihyeon push himself up. Shake— he brushed the dirt from his hair.
“You good?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.”
“You don’t need treatment?”
“Worry about yourself.”
Hamin said it with a sneer. Frowning at his inability to say anything nicely, Sihyeon was about to snap back—but stopped. He remembered why Hamin was injured in the first place.
Why did he even bother shielding me? I never asked him to get hurt saving me.
Grumbling inwardly, Sihyeon let out a dry laugh at how shameless even he sounded. Slowly standing up, his legs trembled beneath him. It felt like if someone pushed him from behind, they’d snap instantly. Uneasy, Sihyeon stomped his feet lightly. Tap, tap— as the soles of his shoes hit the ground, Hamin turned back to look at him. For a moment, his gaze seemed almost exasperated. Sihyeon shrugged.
“There was a bug.”
At his casual excuse, Hamin gave him a suspicious look—then held out his hand.
“What?”
“Take it.”
“What, are you scared?”
Well, it was pitch-black down those stairs. That would be understandable. Thinking so, Sihyeon placed his hand in Hamin’s, and Hamin’s face twisted instantly.
“I’m telling you now—I’m doing this because if I leave you alone, you’ll roll down the stairs.”
“Of course you are.”
“I mean it.”
“Yeah.”
Nodding lazily at Hamin, who was snapping like Pia, Sihyeon quickened his steps. As he stepped down one stair, small grains of sand tumbled downward. Tightening his grip once, he took a deep breath and stepped forward again.
“Just so you know—if things get dangerous, I’m leaving you behind.”
“Sure you will.”
Hamin looked at him like he couldn’t believe it. Unfortunately, Sihyeon had meant it. He paused for a moment, then continued walking.
One step, two, three… twenty-six steps.
Why the hell were there so many stairs? For a moment, he wondered if there were a hundred of them and groaned quietly. Hamin asked if he was tired. Shaking his head, Sihyeon muttered, “Maybe after forty…” and trailed off. He ignored Hamin’s remark about carrying him if needed.
And then—
After fifty-four more steps, something other than stairs finally came into view.
“…Ugh.”
A foul smell hit his nose, and Sihyeon frowned, covering it. It was as if the space was separated—he had only stepped down one stair, yet a musty, rotting stench filled the air. It was so strong it made his skin crawl. Holding his breath, Sihyeon took a step forward. The air that rose up through his feet was chilling.
His blue eyes scanned the surroundings. Despite the smell, the place was surprisingly clean.
There were statues, and at the center stood something like a massive altar.
Walking closer, Sihyeon covered his nose again as he stood before it. The altar, seemingly made of stone, was stained a dark crimson.
And from it, that disgusting stench rose.
Whatever that awful smell was, it seemed this was the source.
