Even though the Guiding was more than enough, Park Woo-jun still couldn’t breathe right. He pounded the center of his chest with a clenched fist, again and again. Thump. Thump. Even the ragged, wheezing breaths that slipped out sounded horrific. Gritting his teeth, he slapped a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t let anyone find out that, on top of everything already wrong with his body, something else had started to break.
His hand darted beneath the bed and snatched up the pill case in one swift, desperate motion. The prescription had been given to him back in Korea during counseling sessions. He’d brought enough to last a full year, yet somehow, he was already running low. Without bothering to count the remaining pills, he poured them into his palm and chewed them dry. No water, no hesitation.
Soon after, his mind went blank—washed out like it had been bleached clean. No thoughts. No anxiety. Nothing could touch him now.
Finally. Stillness.
***
“Okay, okay! Last formation check. Make sure you’re standing in the right spot—front, back, sides, and around your team. Once everyone’s confirmed, we’re going in.”
Simon lowered the mic and immediately tightened the laces of his loose combat boots. The A-Class Espers deployed as support snapped into formation before he even finished speaking. Their eyes darted everywhere, not a single one letting down their guard. But the U-Class Assault Team—those actually leading the mission—didn’t seem to care one bit. They just stood around laughing and joking with each other like some office workers enjoying a rare break out of the building.
They’d been on enough missions together to operate like extensions of one another. HQ simulations? They’d run them into the ground. They knew exactly how strong each team member was—just as well as they knew themselves. There was no reason to be nervous. And for the sake of reassuring the local support Espers, the U-Class team made a habit of projecting laid-back bravado. It wasn’t that they weren’t serious. This was calculated.
And it worked. Just like always.
The backup Espers and Guides, who’d been casting nervous glances their way, began to soak in some of that relaxed confidence. At the center of it all, Simon cracked a grin and loudly declared that as long as they were still breathing, he’d make sure everyone made it back alive. He puffed his chest out dramatically, drawing laughter from the tense support crew. Smiles spread. The worst of the nerves faded.
Once Simon confirmed with his own eyes that nobody was still frozen up, he returned to his place. Only a few people remained at the front—usually three, but today, just two. Julian, who always stood at the vanguard, had been reassigned to guard duty in the rear with the Guides.
The gate had opened right on the edge of the ocean—so close that waves soaked the ground every time they surged in. According to the Research Division, the inside of the dungeon would probably be the same: saltwater up to their ankles. In a place like that, someone with electrokinesis couldn’t fight safely. Julian’s signature move was a wide-area lightning strike. In these conditions, using it like usual could end up electrocuting everyone around him.
Considering the sheer power of his abilities, even Special-Types, Guides, and nature-affinity Espers could take serious damage. And so, the burden on Park Woo-jun’s shoulders grew even heavier.
“Huh. So this is what the rear looks like,” Julian mused.
“Oh shut up. Shouldn’t you be in your spot already? Quit hovering and piss off.”
Julian’s voice rang out crystal clear, obnoxiously loud even from a distance. He was clinging to Lee Han-seo again, same as always. Woo-jun quietly continued checking his gear, tuning them out. Maybe it was because no one else was talking, but even though he was far enough away—and had no interest in eavesdropping—their voices carried effortlessly.
Julian had been assigned to escort the Guides, but he was stationed at the very front of their group. Han-seo was in the very back. Unless one of them went out of their way, they had no reason to cross paths.
“Why are you being so cold? Last time Woo-jun was assigned to the rear, you practically glued yourself to him till the last second.”
“Oh please. You think he’s the same as you?”
“What’s the difference?”
“He’s my boyfriend. You’re just a coworker. Obviously there’s a difference.”
“Boy-friend.” Han-seo bit out each syllable like he was grinding glass between his teeth. His voice dripped with irritation.
Park Woo-jun, who’d been feeling a twinge in the back of his head for a while now, glanced in their direction.
Ah. He let out a quiet sigh.
Han-seo had clearly been watching him. The moment their eyes met, Han-seo brightened and gave him a huge wave over his head like a fool. Julian was clearly grumbling curses under his breath. Then Han-seo mouthed, You mad?—like he actually gave a damn about Julian’s notorious jealousy.
If he really cared, he shouldn’t have volunteered to Guide someone else in the first place. He always did whatever he wanted, then tossed out some cheap comfort afterward like it made everything okay…
No. Stop thinking about it. Don’t think about it.
“……”
Woo-jun cut the thought off cold and smiled back at Han-seo. It was a bright, innocent smile—almost annoyingly pure—despite how rotten he felt inside. He mouthed I’m fine and waved back, prompting Julian’s glare to sharpen. Woo-jun didn’t even bother to mock him. With the meds kicking in, his mind was quiet for once. Normally, it was impossible to shut off the thoughts no matter how hard he tried.
The only thing that bothered him now was that he’d run out of pills. That last dose, before the mission… was the end of it.
“Everyone, to your positions!”
…It’d be fine. It had to be fine. There wouldn’t be any need for the Amplifier this time, so if they could wrap things up quickly, he could go back for treatment. The European Esper support system was way ahead of Korea’s anyway—getting a new consultation and prescription wouldn’t be hard.
“Time is 21:30. Leader plus forty-two members. Initiating entry!”
Simon’s voice rang out like thunder. As one, the tightly grouped team surged forward. And waiting for them—just beyond the dark, silent sea—was the gaping maw of a hideous gate.
***
The assault went about the same as usual. Not easy, sure—but not unbearably hard either. At least, that was true for Park Woo-jun. Lee Han-seo, as a Guide, might’ve had a different take.
“God, I just wanna lie down. Stretch my legs, roll around a bit… I’d die happy.”
Han-seo chewed on a combat ration with zero enthusiasm, his tone sulky as he stomped his feet against the soggy ground. The Research Division’s predictions had been spot-on—the whole damn dungeon was soaked. Every step squelched.
There wasn’t even enough dry space to sit down, let alone stretch out and rest. The team had no choice but to pause whenever they spotted the rare patch of usable ground, taking breaks in increments as they pushed forward. The water clinging to their legs dragged them down, making every step more tiring than the last. The only upside? With portable filters to purify drinking water, they didn’t have to carry as much gear. At least their packs were lighter than usual.
“How are you holding up? Really. You’ve seemed wiped lately.”
Han-seo gave him a once-over, his expression openly concerned. He scanned Woo-jun carefully, clearly unsettled by how pale he looked. The Guiding was stable, sure—but something was obviously off.
“I’m fine.”
Woo-jun cut the answer short.
The clearer his mind got, the heavier everything felt. The more lucid his thoughts became, the deeper his mood sank. He couldn’t let his guard down. Not for a second. If he said the wrong thing, what if Han-seo pulled away? He couldn’t risk it. Honestly, fighting monsters without a single thought in his head felt less draining than trying to act normal around him.
It was no surprise Han-seo had picked up on it. He was supposed to smile naturally, carry the conversation like usual—but he just couldn’t. Not anymore. How did they used to talk? What did they talk about? How…?
Woo-jun was spiraling, nearly on the edge of a panic attack.
Meanwhile, the mission was going ridiculously well.
Even without using his signature wide-range lightning attacks, Julian had no trouble mowing down the monsters that got too close. With him on cleanup, the Guides were better protected than ever. The flow of battle was smooth—like everything had been oiled and fine-tuned. The Guiding was solid. Even if one or two monsters slipped through up front, everyone trusted Julian to take care of it. No one had to overdo it.
“Woo-jun, you’re really okay? You’re not pushing yourself, right?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“……”
“I should get going. I’ll catch up with you later.”
He seized the perfect out—break time was ending. Woo-jun mustered up a practiced smile. It came out stiff, like his whole face had to strain just to lift the corners of his mouth. Sweat rolled down his back, cold and slow.
Han-seo, clearly not ready to let him go, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “Love you.”
“…Love you too.”
He said it. But the words felt like knives in his throat.
What he really wanted to do was scream.
How long will you love me? What do I have to do for you to keep loving me?
He wanted to grab Han-seo by the shoulders, shake him until he gave an answer—an answer he knew didn’t exist.
And the fact that this—this hollow whisper—was the best he could do when saying I love you?
Made him hate himself more than anything else.
