"Where's Mom, Dad?"
The question trembled out of Min Jae like he was coughing up part of his lungs. His father didn't answer. Instead, the man lurched forward, arms locking around him with a desperate strength that felt foreign. He buried his face into Min Jae's shoulder and broke apart, sobbing in shuddering waves.
Min Jae froze for half a second, then his hands rose stiffly, holding his father without really feeling anything. A numbness crept into him.
His father's grief soaked his shirt. The longer the man cried, the tighter Min Jae's throat became, dread filling him grain by grain. He could only expect the worst at this point.
Hyun didn't interrupt. He stood near the doorway, leaning on the frame, jaw tight. His eyes flicked to his watch every so often, checking the minutes with that sharp, military focus he always wore. After the fourth check, a frown tugged at his brow. Only five minutes had passed. That couldn't be right.
He frowned harder, wondering if impatience was getting the better of him. Maybe the tension, the quiet grief in the room, the pressure of their deadline.... maybe all of it was stretching time thin. He forced himself to stay still. Let the two have their moment. They deserved that much.
Joon-ho hovered by the sink, hands folded in front of him, too afraid to speak, too unsure to walk away. The air was thick with grief, and he felt like a trespasser just breathing it.
After what felt like an hour and was, impossibly, only another minute or two, Min Jae's father finally loosened his grip. His eyes were swollen, red, and hollow. He looked ten years older than he had a day ago.
"Your mother…" he began.
His voice cracked. He swallowed, tried again.
"When your mother and I were getting ready for work… we started seeing things. Words. Numbers. Floating in front of us like projections." He rubbed at his eyes. "It happened too suddenly. Too violently. By the time her interface… showed one hundred percent… she dropped."
Min Jae's breath hitched.
His father squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to erase the memory before continuing. "She screamed in pain. I couldn't do anything. And her… her features started to change."
Cold dread pooled in Min Jae's belly. He already knew where the story was heading. Knew it deep in his bones. But he didn't want to hear it. Didn't want it to be real.
His father's voice thinned, barely more than a whisper. "She must've known something terrible was happening. She stood up…" He stopped, the words tangling in his throat. Tears welled again.
The scene pieced itself together in all their minds, forming a brutal, unspoken picture.
Joon-ho stared at the floor.
Hyun's jaw tightened.
Min Jae's eyes filled, his vision blurring.
"And just before she turned into one of those monsters," his father choked, "she jumped." He wiped at his face helplessly. "She died as a human."
The world caved in.
Min Jae let out a raw, broken wail that scraped the walls. It tore through the hallway, through his chest, through the little remaining strength he had. He clutched at his hair, nails digging into his scalp as if the pain could anchor him back into reality.
A piece of him… simply wasn't there anymore. Ripped away.
His lips trembled. He bit down hard, tasting metal, trying to stop another scream from clawing out of him. Why? Why any of this? Why her? Why now?
He felt his breath shaking, uneven, spiraling. Tears streamed freely, pooling on the bathroom floor, mixing with his father's.
He didn't hear Hyun shift closer.
Didn't hear Joon-ho swallow nervously.
Didn't hear the faint rumble outside.
He didn't hear anything but the hollow buzzing inside his skull.
He forgot about the subway station entirely. Forgot the deadline, the danger, the monsters, the countdown. Nothing else existed.
Then a sound shattered it all.
A screech, too close.
Hyun snapped his head toward the window. He sprinted out of the bathroom, boots pounding on the carpet, and yanked the curtains aside. His eyes widened.
Monsters.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
Filling the streets like ants spilling from a crushed nest, snarling, lurching, sprinting. Their bodies twitched with unnatural speed, movement jerky and wrong. Their shadows warped under the strengthening sun, but they kept coming.
"How?" Hyun rasped.
He checked his watch again. The numbers blinked calmly back: early morning.
No way.
He tapped it. Once. Twice. Harder.
Then the truth landed like a kick to his ribs.
Time.
The watch was running slow.
Twice as slow.
Which meant…
It wasn't early morning.
It was midmorning.
They were still up here. Out in the open. With monsters flooding the streets on one of the deadliest hours of the day.
"Shit!" Hyun barked, spinning around. "We have to go. Now!"
His voice snapped Min Jae out of the fog. He blinked, breath catching, tears still streaming but mind sharpening like glass under pressure.
"What?" he whispered.
Hyun didn't repeat himself. He grabbed Min Jae under the arm, hauling him up. Joon-ho darted forward, helping steady him.
"Sir, we need to leave," Hyun ordered, voice clipped. "Right now. This building isn't safe."
Min Jae's father looked torn, chest heaving, but he nodded numbly. Grief made him sluggish, but fear pushed him to his feet.
"Come on," Min Jae whispered hoarsely. His voice cracked again.
His father reached for him, fingers trembling. "I… I can't leave her."
"She's gone," Hyun said, not unkindly. "But you're not."
It took convincing, desperate, frantic words that would make totally no sense later, but eventually Min Jae's father collapsed into agreement. They moved fast.
The hallway felt longer this time. Every shadow looked like it twitched. The elevator dinged too loudly. Each second inside felt like a gamble, like they were waiting for claws to punch through the thin metal walls. When the doors finally opened on the ground floor, the three moved with instinctive speed, dragging Min Jae's father along.
Outside, the air was sharper, hotter. Screeches echoed from all directions.
They sprinted.
The SUV sat at the curb like a lifeline. Glass glittered around it, but the vehicle was untouched.
"Get in!" Hyun barked.
Min Jae shoved his father into the back seat. Joon-ho dove in after him. Hyun slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door.
Min Jae's hands shook violently as he jammed the key into the ignition. His breathing was ragged, uneven. His eyes stung. He couldn't see properly.
But he forced himself to look ahead.
He forced his foot onto the pedal.
The SUV lurched forward, tires screaming as it tore away from the curb. Monsters whipped their heads toward the movement, shrieks bursting from their throats. Some sprinted after them, limbs whipping unnaturally fast.
Min Jae floored it.
...
..
.
Nothing ever goes as planned.
In one moment, they are driving, the next, their car crashes into another.
For a heartbeat, there was only ringing silence.
Then movement. Hyun kicked his door open and stumbled out, coughing. Joon-ho practically fell out of the back seat. Min Jae forced the door open, adrenaline searing through his limbs, and dragged himself out onto the pavement. His father emerged last, leaning on the car to steady himself.
"Everyone alive?" Hyun rasped. His voice shook, but his eyes were already scanning the area.
They were alive. For the moment at least.
Min Jae swallowed hard. "What did we hit?"
Hyun didn't answer. He stepped away from the car, hand drifting toward his blade, gaze narrowing at something farther up the street.
It stood several meters away. Thin. Tall. Its limbs hung awkwardly, like they didn't quite know how to behave. Its skin looked waxy, mottled, stretched over a frame that swayed faintly with every breath.
It raised its head.
The face shifted, rippling, rearranging.....as if it was trying to decide what expression humans were supposed to wear. Its eyes were too deep. Its mouth twitched. It took one slow step forward and sniffed the air.
Hyun cursed under his breath.
"What… what is that?" Joon-ho whispered, voice small.
Hyun's face tightened. "Damn it. A Geuneunani."
The word felt heavy.
Min Jae's father blinked at him. "A… what?"
Hyun didn't look away from the creature. "I didn't expect one of those this early. Not here."
"What's worse than the things we've already seen?" Min Jae asked, heart thudding. They'd seen the grotesque hounds, twisted birds, beasts that wore the shapes of animals but moved like nightmares. How could anything be worse?
Hyun exhaled, jaw clenched. "A Geuneunani isn't like those things. It's smarter. Not genius-level, but smart enough. It mimics humans. Movements. Voice. Behaviors. Even eating etiquette." His lip curled slightly. "It likes eating live humans. Slowly."
A chill ran down Min Jae's spine.
Hyun continued, "This one… lower on the intelligence scale, probably. But that doesn't matter. If anything, the stupidity makes it more aggressive. And unless we get far away right now, someone here dies."
Before anyone could respond, the Geuneunani straightened abruptly, nostrils flaring. Its head twisted toward them with a jerky snap.
"Hueman.." It said.
It found their scent.
Its whole body shuddered.
Then it screamed, a stretched, awful imitation of a human cry then sprinted.
"Move!" Hyun snapped.
They ran.
Feet pounded the pavement. Breath tore from their lungs. Behind them, the Geuneunani closed the distance fast, limbs slingshotting unnaturally as it hurled itself forward.
But then.....
Something slammed into it from the side.
One of the hound-like monsters leapt, jaws snapping around the Geuneunani's shoulder. Another creature lunged at its legs, snarling. A third clawed its ribs with frenzied, sloppy strikes.
"The monsters....They… are helping us?" Min Jae gasped, barely believing what he was seeing.
Hyun shook his head as they ran. "No. Monsters with lower intelligence always attack those with higher intelligence. Instinct. Territory. Whatever. They don't know we exist right now. They just want to tear it apart."
For a moment, hope flickered. The Geuneunani stumbled under the sudden assault, shrieking in frustration. Its face rippled violently, contorting, melting into something animalistic.
It shook one hound off. Then another.
Then it grabbed the third by the throat, lifted it, and slammed it into the ground so hard the spine cracked.
Hyun looked back. His face went stark. "It's already breaking free."
The Geuneunani roared.
It ripped its attackers apart.
And then it was back on its feet.
Running.
Faster this time. Desperate. Hungry.
Hyun cursed again, louder. "Even I'd have trouble taking that thing down right now…"
Min Jae's father suddenly slowed. "Young man."
Hyun didn't stop running. "Not now....."
"You say it likes the smell of fresh blood."
"Yes!"
"And it can smell from far away?"
"Yes, sir, that's why we need to—"
"And it takes a while to… finish eating?"
Hyun grimaced. "Unfortunately, yes. Why are you—"
Min Jae's father stopped running.
Hyun froze. "Sir—"
Joon-ho skidded to a halt. "What are you doing?!"
Min Jae turned, panting. "Dad?"
His father reached into his pocket with a shaking hand. Then he pulled out two rings. Familiar rings. One was his. The other—
The other was Min Jae's mother's.
He pressed them into Min Jae's palm, folding his fingers around them. "Here, son. Your mother and I wanted you to have this."
Min Jae stared at him, chest tightening. "Dad… what are you…?"
His father didn't answer. Not directly.
He looked at Hyun. His voice steadied, even through the tremor. "Keep my son safe."
Hyun's face twisted, eyes almost wild. "Don't do this. There are other options—"
"There aren't." Min Jae's father stepped back once. Twice. "Not anymore."
"Dad?" Min Jae's voice cracked. "Dad, wait, wh—"
His father ran.
Not toward safety.
Toward the Geuneunani.
"NO!" Min Jae lunged forward....but Hyun grabbed him around the waist with brutal efficiency, yanking him off his feet.
Min Jae kicked, fought, clawed at Hyun's arm. "Let me go! Dad! Dad!"
But his father was already moving fast. He snatched a shard of broken windshield glass from the street, turned it in his hand, and dragged it across his forearm.
Blood spilled.
Bright and fresh.
The Geuneunani froze mid-stride.
Its head twisted toward the scent like a puppet on strings.
Then it shrieked, lunged, and sprinted past the others—straight at Min Jae's father.
"DAD!" Min Jae screamed, voice tearing from his throat.
His father didn't look back.
He ran, one arm bleeding, drawing the monster away with every drop. Luring it. Leading it.
Saving them.
"No—no—NO!" Min Jae's voice cracked into something raw and feral. He struggled, shaking, choking on air. "Let me go! Hyun, LET ME GO!"
Hyun's grip tightened like iron. "I can't. He made his choice."
"He's going to die!"
"I know," Hyun whispered, voice breaking for the first time. "That's why we can't waste it."
The Geuneunani hit Min Jae's father with the force of a truck. They both tumbled across the asphalt, limbs tangled. The creature's jaw snapped, clicking too many times too quickly. Blood sprayed—too much, too bright.
Min Jae's vision blurred in a hot flood.
He didn't see the street.
He didn't see the monsters.
He only saw his father disappearing beneath a creature that should never have existed.
And then,
Hyun started running again, dragging Min Jae with him.
Joon-ho followed, sobbing silently as he ran.
The world blurred past them, and somewhere behind, the Geuneunani made a sound that would shatter Min Jae's sleep for the rest of his life.
A slow, savoring sound.
Eating his father alive.