Chapter 52: A Feverish Awakening

“Alright, I’ll avoid Levian from now on. I don’t want any unnecessary headaches.”

“An excellent choice.”

Even after just drinking water, Sa-yoon’s throat felt parched. He rubbed his eyes, which felt gritty, as if sand had lodged beneath his eyelids.

“Would you like to return for today?”

“Pardon?”

Whenever the two met, it was always Sa-yoon who suggested leaving first. Han Do-hoon had never dismissed him. Moreover, their encounters at Han Do-hoon’s quarters invariably ended with them entangled intimately, yet now, the man who usually clung to him for every extra second was suggesting he leave.

Sa-yoon stared at Han Do-hoon.

“Am I just… going?”

“You seem unaware of your own condition.”

Han Do-hoon pulled Sa-yoon closer by the shoulder. He bent low, bringing his head near Sa-yoon’s face as he sat in the chair, until their foreheads touched.

“You have a fever.”

Since awakening as an Esper, Sa-yoon had never once fallen ill. Even though Espers were robust, their demanding profession meant most suffered from overwork at least once or twice. Sa-yoon, however, had always been an exception.

He had even recovered quickly after losing consciousness from guiding Han Do-hoon during a terror infiltration. Though he believed there was no reason for him to be sick without a major incident, Han Do-hoon’s forehead felt refreshingly cool against his own.

“Oh… you’re right.”

“Why do you sound so surprised? It seems you overexerted yourself sneaking in today. It’s quite a distance from your office to the main gate, after all.”

Sa-yoon awkwardly ran a hand over his forehead. Moving through pipes and electrical conduits, delicately parting concrete, was indeed a challenging task, but it wasn’t strenuous enough to cause a fever.

“Why am I like this? Still, a little rest should take care of it.”

“I have no intention of getting intimate with a sick person. Go rest quietly.”

Han Do-hoon retrieved a drink from the refrigerator and placed it in Sa-yoon’s hand.

“You’ll feel worse tomorrow. Pick up some medicine from the infirmary on your way. I’d offer to escort you, but I doubt you’d want that.”

Sa-yoon turned the cold can to read the label: ‘Monster Drink (Strawberry Flavor).’ Before he could even wonder why such a thing was stocked in the quarters, he found himself being pushed towards the entrance.

“……”

Left alone in the empty hallway, Sa-yoon traced a finger over the frosty can. He glanced subtly to the right, where the infirmary was located, then turned towards his own quarters on the opposite side.

Blinding lights, sharp enough to tear his retinas, streamed down. A chilling cold seeped through him; his entire body felt frigid and raw. His internal organs, which had been removed and replaced countless times, no longer functioned properly.

Clinking scalpels, the rhythmic hum of machinery—all echoed loudly. Amidst the sickening din, the murmuring of people intertwined.

[Experiment Subject B-385: Dissection commencing.]

Finally, the long experiment of mutilation was over. Despite having braced himself for this moment for so long, his jaw trembled with terror.

‘Save me. Please, let me go.’

No matter how loudly he screamed, the gag in his mouth trapped the sounds within his tongue.

[How dare you act so presumptuous? This is what you get. You should have just listened to me quietly.]

His biological father’s voice echoed in the desolate space.

[Your useless mother will soon follow you. Don’t feel too wronged. You were destined to die like this from the moment you were born anyway.]

His body felt heavy. So heavy he couldn’t even twitch a finger. He had to move. He had to escape from here. Even as he pleaded desperately, the situation remained unchanged. The scalpel touched his exposed neck. A red line appeared, following the sharp edge.

The thin stream of blood thickened into a rope, and soon, the gushing blood from his cleaved body became a sticky pool, filling the floor.

Despite writhing in the agony of his torn abdomen, a colossal force held him down, rendering him utterly immobile. Sa-yoon closed his eyes. In the torment of enduring it all alone, transparent tears mingled with the blood flowing down his face.

Sa-yoon succumbed to the approaching death, releasing his struggle. This was the moment he had long anticipated and prepared for. From the instant of his second awakening, he had believed he would meet a horrific end on a cold operating table. He merely wished for this terrible ordeal to pass quickly.

His heartbeat gradually slowed. The blood gushing from his body covered him entirely. His body, once cold as ice, now felt scorching hot, like a fireball.

[Sa-yoon.]

At that moment, someone took Sa-yoon’s hand. It was a voice he longed to hear.

[Sa-yoon. You must wake up.]

He struggled to turn his head. Beyond his half-closed eyes, a silhouette, faint against the backlight, slowly became clearer. It was a pale, slender man, around Sa-yoon’s age. Though he knew the gag prevented him from speaking, Sa-yoon moved his lips, calling out to him.

‘Myeong-ah.’

‘I missed you. Myeong-ah.’

As if hearing Sa-yoon’s unspoken plea, Myeong-ah’s grip tightened. Sa-yoon strained to open his drooping eyes, and through his blurry vision, he finally saw the face he so desperately longed for. It was Jung Myeong-ah, appearing as he had in his teens, just as they had parted.

[You can’t collapse now, Sa-yoon. Find me.]

‘Where are you now? Where should I look for you?’ His dry, gagged lips cracked. ‘I want to see you too, Myeong-ah.’

Myeong-ah’s form, holding Sa-yoon tightly with both hands, trembled faintly. His eyes, shaking with a strange expression that seemed both a sob and a laugh, suddenly dislodged.

One gruesome eyeball, still attached by veins, dropped to the floor, followed by the other. Myeong-ah’s pale face began to melt like mud.

[Understood? You have to find me. I can’t move anymore.]

Then, a black liquid poured from Myeong-ah’s lips, which were now rolled back to reveal only black pupils. A vast quantity of the dark fluid, enough to cover Sa-yoon’s own spilled blood, filled the floor, dragging at Myeong-ah’s ankles.

‘Myeong-ah. Why did you become like this? Myeong-ah.’

As his vision gradually turned black, he screamed Myeong-ah’s name. Even as he called until his throat was raw, only short, choked breaths escaped past the gag. Myeong-ah’s fingers, gripping Sa-yoon’s, detached. From his severed body, black liquid, not blood, flowed once more.

Silently, yet swiftly, the blackness rose to his waist. Soon, Myeong-ah’s tattered body disintegrated, swallowed by the black liquid.

His breath came out hot. The inside of his closed eyelids throbbed.

“Cough.”

A dry cough tore its way from his throat. He moved his rigid hands, stiff as if from sleep paralysis, to wipe his face. Through his trembling fingers, he felt the damp pillowcase.

Beyond his blinking eyelids, the dark room slowly took shape. Having fallen asleep last night immediately upon returning to his quarters, skipping dinner, he seemed to have woken up in the early hours.

Sa-yoon wrapped himself tightly in his duvet. It was late spring, almost summer, yet his body shivered with chills.

‘It was a dream.’ A cold sweat drenched his entire body from the nightmare he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Even though he knew he needed to quickly wash and change into dry clothes, his body remained rigid like a statue, refusing to move.

‘I’m scared. This is so heavy and difficult.’

He clutched at his chest, feeling as if his body had been torn in half and blood was gushing out. Sa-yoon let out a deep sigh, feeling the thumping of his heart beneath his palm.

Sa-yoon had always consoled himself. ‘There’s no immediate danger. The current situation is peaceful and stable. So, even with a few shackles, life might be quite livable, right?’ He rationalized this way, forcing himself to endure.

But whenever reality crashed down on him like this, the crushing weight made it difficult to breathe.

Irregulars. His mother held hostage. His old friend, missing somewhere within the unit. All were realities Sa-yoon had to resolve and bear.

Water droplets fell onto the duvet wrapped around him. The tears he had barely managed to stop now flowed endlessly.

“It’s okay…”

Sa-yoon murmured, reassuring himself. This was something he had frequently experienced when he first moved into his biological father’s house and settled in Seoul. Back then, without Dr. Jung Hyun-woo, he had endured even tougher times.

Now, it only felt a little harder because it was a nightmare he hadn’t had in a long time. Time was the answer. He knew that when the sun rose and the nightmare faded, he would return to his usual self.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll probably press down on my swollen eyes and feel embarrassed for crying for no reason. So, just a little. Just cry a little now, and move on tomorrow.’

With that thought, Sa-yoon rolled himself in his duvet and tried to coax sleep back.

His lighthearted expectation that he would only suffer for a day proved laughable, as Sa-yoon remained buried in bed for three full days.

Foolishly, he hadn’t even visited the infirmary. He worried Dr. Jung Hyun-woo might get concerned, and since the reason for Sa-yoon’s illness stemmed from his mind, medicine would be useless anyway.

‘I’ll be better tomorrow.’ Then, ‘I’ll be better by the afternoon.’ He agonized, enduring three full days of hardship. He stayed holed up in his room, making excuses to Han Do-hoon, who kept texting to check on him, saying he was too busy to meet.

Had the Director not sent an urgent message, he might have continued to wallow alone for several more days.

“Why has your face become so thin?”

Even with a large mask on, the Director instantly recognized Sa-yoon’s unusual state. Indeed, it would have been strange if he hadn’t noticed, given how much weight Sa-yoon had lost in just a few days.