His throat burned, and the inside of his mouth reeked of salt and iron. Even when he pressed his hands so tightly against his ears they hurt, Kim Minsu’s words lingered like a phantom echo, whispering endlessly into his skull.
The voice drilled into his eardrums, scraping through his mind as though a rasp were tearing into soft flesh.
“…Don’t forget. You belong to me.”
Even with his eyes shut, Nabin could still see that single, ruined eye staring into him, emotions swirling behind it like a storm ready to swallow him whole. The warped obsession, the madness—it clung to him like a living thing, reminding him that the nightmare he thought was over hadn’t truly ended.
Maybe he’d only imagined he’d escaped. Maybe he was still locked in that small room, forced to face Esper after Esper without end.
And yet, there were mercies he couldn’t deny. He no longer had to worry about meals. He could breathe warm air no matter the weather outside. And above all, he no longer had to worry about Mom.
But then, even Tae Yishin’s voice—the one he thought had finally gone quiet—echoed back like another cruel hallucination.
“…You’re just a trash can. Not a person. A Guiding machine, nothing more—made to serve us whenever we want.”
No. That wasn’t true.
Or maybe it was. Maybe he wasn’t human at all. Maybe he really was just a machine wearing human skin.
After being diagnosed with Mana Depletion Syndrome, and then running into Kim Minsu—a man he thought he’d never have to see again—his mind had begun to totter, like a tower of stones about to collapse.
He’d grown so weak he’d even told Mom he wanted to die. He had nothing left to withstand another blow.
His vacant eyes drifted slowly around him. Though the sun was still high, the world seemed oppressively dark. Beneath the shadow of a massive tree, his arms fell limp at his sides, no longer covering his ears.
The voices blurred into visions, nightmares shaking his body until he thought he might collapse.
“…Guide Kim Nabin.”
“Nabin-ah…”
Kim Su-hyun and his father came staggering toward him, dripping blood with every step. His breath grew shallow, his chest tightening as though it might stop altogether.
His blinks slowed. Just before his pupils lost focus completely, the Butterfly Pendant at his wrist shimmered with an eerie light.
Assailed by voices and visions, the life drained from his eyes. His eyelids sank like butterfly wings folding shut, and his gaze disappeared. His body slipped soundlessly off the bench.
“Kim Nabin!”
The sound barely registered before his weight was caught in strong arms, holding him just above the ground. He couldn’t move. The heat in the air around him grew unbearable, the scent of smoke sharp in his nose. Somewhere nearby, something cracked and hissed as if the world itself were burning.
Dimly, he sensed voices—someone shouting, others running—but none of it reached him. His body was too heavy, his thoughts too clouded.
The fire that flared so violently around him didn’t touch him. The heat licked everywhere else, yet left him untouched in that embrace.
A faint groan slipped from his lips. He didn’t know if he made the sound, only that warmth answered—words brushing against his ear, gentle, soothing.
“Shhh. You’re safe now.”
Darkness pressed in, thick and heavy. His forehead was damp, cold with sweat, yet there was a warmth there too—something soft, fleeting—before the world tilted, carrying him away.
***
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in a bed he recognized—inside the mansion. His body felt leaden, his head still full of ringing echoes. Distantly, he could hear voices—Jigang’s, Gong Min’s, even Ryu Somin’s—but they felt far away, as though muffled behind glass.
He didn’t try to follow their words. He couldn’t. His body was too tired, and his mind had gone numb.
All he could do was let the sound of them wash over him while he sank deeper into the quiet.
