The final battle had been long. By the time the core of Edokers was destroyed, it was already deep into the night, and when he crossed back to Earth, it was afternoon. Other than the time spent talking with Tae Woon, he’d spent nearly the entire day in a state of tension, so it was no surprise that he was thoroughly exhausted. Yet, as dawn’s light began to brighten the sky, his eyes fluttered open.
What he saw above him wasn’t the makeshift ceiling of a battlefield, and Kim Sibaek quickly sat up in shock. A glance around revealed that even the style of the room was unfamiliar. As the interior—with its bed, side table, and framed pictures—gradually came into focus, a faint, involuntary chuckle escaped him.
This wasn’t Mak Slechth. This was Earth. His home. The place where his loved ones and Tae Woon lived.
‘…So it wasn’t a dream.’
Kim Sibaek ran a hand down his face. When he had first arrived in Mak Slechth, he’d wandered his homeland in dreams every night. Dreams of returning to Earth. Dreams of reuniting with his younger siblings and the sisters. Dreams of holding Tae Woon as he smiled brightly. Because they were dreams, they were tender and beautiful—and because they were dreams, they had always ended in bitter emptiness. Only after decades had those long-forgotten memories taken tangible form.
Despite the fatigue, it seemed the exhilaration had kept him from sleeping deeply last night. The scent and air of his homeland didn’t feel quite real—it had changed so much—but still, this was the place he had so desperately longed to return to. The fact that he came back with only a 21-year gap was something to be grateful for. So was the confirmation that Tae Woon had grown up safe and sound.
‘I thought I’d completely given up on coming back… but maybe I hadn’t.’
More than the confusion of suddenly vanishing from Mak Slechth, the joy of returning to Earth overwhelmed him. Kim Sibaek slowly rubbed the left side of his chest, where a pleasant, fluttering feeling stirred, then rose from the bed. Biendeoé, curled up against a cushion beside him, stirred faintly in sleep.
Carefully, so as not to make a sound, he pulled aside a corner of the curtain. The reflection of a young man’s face faintly appeared on the clear window—familiar after decades of seeing it. But the view stretching out below was strange.
It wasn’t even Seoul—it was Daejeon.
Though it wasn’t the Han River, a long stream stretched through the city, and early morning joggers and walkers strolled along its banks. Birds clustered on the water floated about serenely, and the scene was so peaceful that it felt surreal to think this world, too, was now plagued by demonic beasts.
According to Tae Woon, the monsters had begun appearing twenty-one years ago, right after Kim Sibaek had disappeared through the rift. Whether there was a connection or it was just coincidence, he still couldn’t tell.
‘Lord Biendeoé must be sent back to Mak Slechth.’
When the time came, Biendeoé would have to return. He might be Kim Sibaek’s god, but he was not a god of this world. What fate awaits a god stranded in a world without followers?
But as for himself…
Kim Sibaek habitually fiddled with his ring, channeling divine power into it. A photo appeared. The children who had once seemed so tiny must have grown as much as Tae Woon had.
‘No… none of them could’ve grown like Woonie did.’
The thought was nothing special, but a smile spread across his face. Minhyung and Gaeun had always been tall, so they must have shot up even more by now. Eunho had always been worryingly skinny—had he finally filled out? Hopefully Hangyeol had struck a balance between reading and exercise and was growing up healthy.
Visions of the younger siblings he’d only imagined growing up over the years floated through his mind. After this holiday ended, he’d be able to see them soon. How close—or different—would they be to his imagination?
His heart beat a little faster. He knew this pulse in his chest was the rhythm of excitement. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
Maybe this was destiny’s final kindness to the man it had flung into Mak Slechth. After all those years of running without rest, when he finally chose to stop, it had brought him back home.
Mak Slechth held many precious ties. There were many who would mourn his sudden disappearance. But memories and time built over decades didn’t vanish with a farewell. As long as they remembered and missed one another, they could still wish happiness for each other, even from afar.
Yes, this was his homeland. The place where his younger siblings waited. The land where Tae Woon welcomed him back. This was the place to which he had returned.
And this was the land where he would live from now on.
When he stepped out into the living room with Biendeoé—who had latched onto him the moment they woke—Tae Woon was just opening his bedroom door.
“Going to work on a Sunday? This early?”
He asked in surprise, noting the same clothes Tae Woon had worn yesterday. With a gloved hand, Tae Woon casually brushed back his hair.
“I just find this outfit comfortable.”
“Ah.”
That made sense. Maybe there were a few more people in the world—besides his boy—who found suits so comfortable they wore them as loungewear. Maybe.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, the mattress was nice.”
“Glad to know the money wasn’t wasted.”
Kim Sibaek laughed out loud, but Tae Woon gave him a neutral look, as if wondering what was so funny. He suppressed another chuckle and patted Tae Woon on the cheek.
“It just suddenly feels real. I’d already given up on ever having a conversation like this with you. I’m honestly so happy.”
How long had it been since he last exchanged such ordinary morning greetings? The excitement in his chest was now warmed with a soft, tender peace. Tae Woon’s lips curled faintly as well.
“Twenty-one years have passed, but I haven’t aged a day. How did you recognize me right away? By now I should be a full-on middle-aged man.”
“You always felt like an adult to me even when I was little, so it was hard to imagine you any older. Maybe it’s because I kept holding on to the last image I had of you.”
Tae Woon hesitated for a moment, then cautiously asked:
“…And you?”
“Hmm?”
“You recognized me right away too, didn’t you, hyung? Back then, I was small and cute, but now I’ve totally withered, gotten huge, and even hit my thirties…”
Biendeoé stared at Tae Woon in horror as he casually called himself cute, but all Kim Sibaek saw was someone who looked dejected and downcast.
“Oh wow, you’ve been stuck on that ‘withered’ comment from yesterday this whole time? I was joking, just joking. I was so shocked I slipped up.”
He hurried to explain and soothe him so Tae Woon wouldn’t feel more hurt, and only then did Tae Woon cautiously peek up at him for a reaction.
“…Really?”
Biendeoé, having just witnessed a grown man sulk like a child, was already deeply disturbed, but Kim Sibaek doubled down.
“Of course! What did I used to say you looked like, back then?”
“A chick.”
“You still do.”
And Kim Sibaek meant it. If someone were to gather all the world’s cuteness, charm, and tenderness into a single name, it would be Tae Woon.
Even though he was now over fifteen centimeters taller, with enough muscle to weigh twenty or thirty kilos more than before, to Kim Sibaek, he was still that tiny five-year-old who had once quietly looked up at him from a semi-basement room. Just like the Tae Woon from age fourteen, the Tae Woon at thirty-five hadn’t changed.
His sharp gaze would soften into something gentle when it landed on him, and even that chilly tone of voice would melt into a subtle, affectionate lilt whenever he responded—just the same as always. He was still Tae Woon, unchanged.
Even after twenty-one years and the emergence of demonic beasts, there was something about this world that had remained the same—and Kim Sibaek was more than glad that it was Tae Woon.
[Death and Beauty covers its ears in agony.]
Reading his surface emotions, Biendeoé was tormented by the reality that Tae Woon—whose size rivaled two industrial air conditioners stacked together—still appeared as a baby chick in his Apostle’s eyes. The discomfort momentarily eclipsed even his fear of this strange new world called Earth.
But while Biendeoé spiraled into distress, Tae Woon’s relieved and radiant smile filled Kim Sibaek’s chest with warmth and pride.
“Confession time: I never imagined you’d grow this much. I figured, if you really shot up, maybe you’d reach about my height. Worst case, around here?”
He held his palm horizontally to his nose and grinned playfully.
“Did you grow like fifty centimeters? I bet the growing pains were brutal during puberty.”
“They really were…”
Tae Woon whispered in a deep, resonant voice that echoed like it came from a cave, then leaned against him with the ease of habit. With a hand strong enough to break down doors barehanded, he gently touched his own forehead and let out a delicate sigh.
“My joints hurt all the time, and Minhyung just mocked me for being an old man.”
“If I’d been around, I would’ve at least given you massages.”
Tae Woon’s eyes sparkled like a predator spotting its prey, a stark contrast to his previous maiden-like melancholy.
“It’s not too late, hyung.”
“Huh? What?”
“A massage.”
“Oh…! Should I?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, alright. Head over to the couch.”
What wouldn’t he do for Tae Woon after all these years? Watching Tae Woon bounce over and plop himself down on the couch like an excited child receiving a new toy was utterly endearing.
[Death and Beauty is gravely concerned that my Apostle may have sustained brain damage while passing through the dimensional portal.]
Time flew by in a blink. The decades’ worth of stories spanning the 21-year and 68-year gap between them were endless. Before they knew it, night had fallen, and the thought that he’d be meeting the other siblings tomorrow filled Kim Sibaek with an even greater sense of anticipation.
“Did you tell the others? They’re probably busy with work during the day—think they’ll make time after they get off?”
Tae Woon, who’d been smiling so brightly all day, suddenly stiffened, his expression turning flat and lifeless. He bit his lip, rubbed his face, then spoke with great difficulty.
“…I didn’t say anything yesterday because I thought it’d shock you too much.”
“Hm?”
“After you disappeared… no one remembers you, hyung.”
