Reading Again (起)

by Eternity_Epilogue_9158

Summary:

起 ◾ 기 ◾ ‘Gi’ ◾ “Beginning”

He was the only reader.

And he would have stayed curled up and comfy in his nest if it wasn’t for Yoo Joonghyuk yanking him into the world.

Or if he hadn't yanked Yoo Joonghyuk into his world.

(AU with Esper/Guide and A/B/O dynamics - Romance - Mystery?)

(AN: I'm not good with summaries.)
(AN2: For readers here for the smut, those chapters have titles marked with an (*) .)

Chapter 1: The Beginning

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“Trust me, Joonghyuk-ssi.  ‘SSSSSS-Consulting’ has a stellar reputation.  Please just give them a chance.”  Yoo Sangah practically begs.

 

That’s how Yoo Joonghyuk found himself standing in the middle of a crime scene, overlooking the many crime scene technicians scavenging the vicinity for evidence of any kind.  When he arrived on the scene, an esper, likely a part of the first responders team, had already set up a barrier around the area.

 

Yoo Sangah had initially called him that evening while he was on his way home after finishing his shift.  She told him he should take a look at a body that was reported, thinking that the M.O. was similar to another case their department was working on.  He agreed to head over to the scene to take a look.

 

What Yoo Sangah had (conveniently) forgotten to mention was that the other case was subcontracted out to a private specialist firm some months back — a referral that Yoo Sangah, herself, had made, making him all the more suspicious — due to the overload of cases that their department was currently suffering from.

 

In other words, they were understaffed and overworked so the case was pushed to a no-name private firm so that it could be someone else’s problem.

 

He had a hunch that their Department Head had initially told Yoo Sangah to push the other case into the ‘Cold Case’ files.  If the Department Head were to be asked why the 2-year-old case was so quickly turned over, the P.R. response would have been that the case was a dead end and would be revisited again when new evidence was found.  The truth was likely because there wasn’t enough money and political pressure involved in solving the case. 

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk had been working with his, for lack of a better term, ‘handler’ for more than 3 years now.  He knew Yoo Sangah better than most of their co-workers.  He was sure she had subcontracted that other case the moment she received the notice of the change in status.  

 

Why she had given it to this strangely named private firm remained to be determined.

 

From what he had gleaned from the case file, the now 2-year-old case had initially started with a call to the local police precinct from a man who lived in the suburbs.  He had called to report that his “story was stolen”.  When the dispatch officer had asked the man if he meant something like ‘plagiarism’, the man just kept insisting his story was stolen, sounding more and more hysterical, without much further explanation for clarity.  

 

The dispatch officer had already marked the complaint as a non-emergency and asked the man for further details of his situation.  Yet the man had demanded that they send the entire force over to his house because his story was stolen!

 

Then the call was promptly disconnected.

 

A few cars from the local police force were of course sent over, although there was no rush since it was already written off as some crazy man calling in to share his nonsensical ravings.  

 

However, when the officers arrived at the recorded address, they encountered something unexpected.

 

The house was located at the end of a street, backed up to the treeline of a forest that bordered the mountains.  It was broad daylight, a working day, so the other houses along the street were quiet, the inhabitants already gone off to work or school. 

 

Which was either a blessing or a curse for the officers who arrived first at the scene.  

 

A blessing because they found the man already dead, pinned to the side of his house, stretched out like a macabre scarecrow, his face completely mutilated.  

 

And a curse because there were no witnesses, no markers to construct a timeline that they could follow other than when the man called the station, and the call record indicating that the man had made the call from the location of his home. 

 

It should have been a cut-and-dry case for the local police to handle.

 

The anomaly came in the form of a simple statement on the crime scene description:

 

〔No blood was found in, on, or around the body of the man.  No blood was found inside the man’s house, inside the man’s car, or anywhere else in the vicinity of the neighborhood.〕

 

It was considered that maybe the murder had happened elsewhere, at some distant place.  However, as the possibility was considered, the time it took from the man’s call to the officers reaching his home address was less than fifteen minutes.

 

First, there were no recorded espers that had an ability related to exsanguination.  It may be possible with a water-specialized esper, but it would require an unbelievable amount of precise control as not to leave any evidence that could be detectable. 

 

Second, the timeline was too short for there to be no evidence left at all.  Draining a body completely through wounds only made to the face of the victim would require a much longer period of time and be much messier than the ‘pristine’ condition of the crime scene.

 

And that’s how the case landed with their department: Esper Response Specialization, or ERS. 

 

(He lost count of how many times he had heard Yoo Sangah complain about the many inquiries they received regarding retirement information.)

 

So, here Yoo Joonghyuk was, standing at a crime scene, with the victim’s bloodless body, their face mutilated, waiting for this no-name firm to show up.

 

The lab technician, Han Dareum, was busy taking photos and processing what she could on-scene before they took the body to her lab.

 

It was then that Yoo Joonghyuk looked towards a commotion at the edge of the barrier.  From this distance he couldn’t quite make out the faces of the interlopers, but both silhouettes looked slim in stature, both of them wearing white coats. 

 

After a brief interaction and I.D. check with an officer-on-duty, the two forms entered the crime scene, headed straight towards him.  And, as they drew closer, although he noted they were trying to keep the conversation between themselves, he was able to hear snippets of their banter.

 

“Why… here again?”

 

“...related…leads…”

 

“But why am I here?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought the exact same thing.

 

“You’re my expert in anything story-related.  Why are you even complaining?  I’m buying you food later.”

 

「Story-related?」

 

“I can buy my own food.  Plus the next episode in the serialization is coming out today.”

 

「…」

 

“ And ?  It’s a serialization !  It will be there later tonight, tomorrow, and the next day.  That’s how paid content works.”

 

“You can’t know that for sure.  What if the whole thing gets taken down, without notice, without warning?  You never know with these things.”

 

“Pah!  Now you’re just being paranoid!  There is a dead victim, here and now, that I need you to [Read].  Please !  I didn’t get to do this with the first body.”

 

“Ha… Fine.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk just stood there, his face remaining expressionless as he listened to such a ridiculous conversation, and wondering why he was even needed here at all.  

 

Then one of the strangers looked up and noticed him.  She looked rather petite, light-skinned, with subtle curves hidden beneath the white coat.  Her face was somewhat small, and her eyes were large with a distinctive beauty mark beneath the corner of her left eye.  Her hair was short and fine, pitch black, with a length that just reached her shoulders.  And, based on scent alone, he could tell she was a Beta.

 

“Detective Han of SSSSSS-Consulting.  Nice to meet you.  I see that Director Yoo was not able to meet us here.  Did she ask you to be our babysitter?”  

 

He thought she had the bearing of an Alpha with the attitude to match.

 

“Not in so many words.”  He acknowledged.

 

Detective Han chuckled.  “Yes, she is very good at pushing buttons in just the right order to get the results she wants.”

 

He only nodded, then looked to the detective’s companion, who seemed to be in a daze, staring off at something just to the left of Yoo Joonghyuk’s ear.  He had a slender build with very pale skin, almost milky in color.  His face was softly rounded with subtle, high cheekbones.  

 

But, unlike the detective, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t tell if this man was an Alpha, Beta, or Omega.

 

With a sharp sense of smell courtesy of his designation, it was rare for Yoo Joonghyuk to encounter another person who didn’t give off any detectable indicators.

 

Detective Han gently nudged her companion, softly scolding, “You’re always [Reading].  Introduce yourself, you neanderthal.”

 

A subtle tremor ran through the man’s frame.  His eyes regained their focus and a shy, awkward smile stretched his lips.  “Kim Dokja, Detective Han’s part-time consultant.”   

 

However, when Yoo Joonghyuk met the full force of that gaze and heard the soft cadence of his voice, it was as if he had stepped into a haze.  

 

For a moment, he imagined he could see an entire nebula swirling in the darkness of those eyes.  The stars entranced him, his rusty Alpha instincts waking up and yawning wide, engulfing everything inside him.

 

It wasn’t something he was expecting, especially when standing in the middle of a crime scene, so he was barely able to restrain himself in time before he started unconsciously pumping Alpha pheromones into the air around them.

 

Before the silence became too awkward, he cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to his mind, and he immediately wished that he had the ability to regress.

 

“Strange name.”  

 

Kim Dokja chuckled graciously, breaking the subtle tension forming between them.  “I’ve heard that a lot.”

 

Then, Kim Dokja looked at him thoughtfully.  “I’ve also heard some about you, Esper Yoo Joonghyuk.  Heard you’re known in other circles as ‘Secretive Plotter’.”

 

Detective Han scoffed.  “ You heard of him?  I thought you were living buried in novels for so long that he wouldn’t even be on your radar.”

 

Kim Dokja playfully glared at her.  “I do read things other than webnovels, you plagiarist .”

 

Detective Han squawked in outrage.  “Hah!  Ungrateful rat .”

 

Before it could devolve any further, Yoo Joonghyuk intervened.  “You… know me?”

 

Kim Dokja laughed breathily, his shy smile returning, as he grasped the back of his neck nervously.  “I do.”  A slight blush stained his cheeks.  “I work for a small gaming company.  [1864] is pretty famous.  I’m kind of a fan.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t explain why he felt a pang of jealousy about that.  [1864] was just a facet of himself, so he essentially was feeling jealous… of himself. 

 

Still, it bothered him regardless of the details.

 

Then.

 

“Well, a fan of both you and [1864].  I read some articles and heard about your cases at ERS.”  He grinned wider.  “Especially the one where you caught that bomber, Choi Han-Gyu.”  

 

At the mention of the name, Yoo Joonghyuk vaguely recalled that Choi Han-Gyu was one of his earlier hunts, when he was a rookie starting out at ERS.  

 

It made him feel slightly less jealous.

 

Detective Han glanced slyly between them before teasing.  “Dokja, you're so shameless, flirting at a crime scene.”

 

Kim Dokja blushed even more furiously and stuttered out a protest, obviously flustered.

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk discovered that he liked seeing Kim Dokja flustered.

 

Han Dareum approached distractedly.  “I finished processing what I could here.  The body can be moved when we’re ready to load up.”  And with that, she wandered off, already flicking through the many photos she had taken of the body and the scene around it.

 

Detective Han glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “Has Director Yoo at least briefed you on what we’re here for?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head.  “She only said to be here.”

 

Detective Han clicked her tongue.  “Typical.  Well, we were given a previous case where the victim was left in a similar state.  If you don’t mind, can we take a look at the body before you pack up and get out of here?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded and Director Han nudged Kim Dokja.  “You’re up.”

 

Kim Dokja slowly approached the body, pulling a pair of medical gloves from his coat pocket and snapping them on.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk watched as he first searched through the victim’s pockets, finding a wallet in one of them and flipping through it.  After a moment of scanning through what seemed like the victim’s identification information, he closed the wallet and placed it on the victim’s chest.  

 

“Identification says the victim's last name is ‘Baudrillard’, first name ‘Jean’.  Guide, Alpha, 231 years old.”  He looked up at the apartments and high rises around him.

 

Detective Han’s eyes sharpen.  “What?”

 

“Just a feeling.  Give me a minute.”  Kim Dokja’s eyes lost focus as he stared at a point above the victim’s body.  Yoo Joonghyuk noticed his breathing deepening and his body relaxing.  He felt the familiar disturbance in the space around them signaling the use of an ability.

 

“Esper?”  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, his voice quiet so that he wasn’t overheard.

 

Detective Han hummed.  “Something like that.”  She gives him a crafty look.  “Maybe you should ask him later.”  Then she chuckled.  “He’s a [Reader].”

 

It was the first time he had ever heard such a thing.  “I don’t know what that is.”

 

She scrunched her face in thought.  “It’s a bit difficult to explain.  To be honest, it’s easier to just witness it in action, draw your own conclusions.  Condensing it into words is… difficult.”  

 

She thought more about it.  “The basic theory is that the core of everything is a ‘story’.”  She tilts her head toward Kim Dokja.  “His speciality is that he can [Read] those [Stories].  Ideally, if you give him enough context, he can attempt to reconstruct the [Story].”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was skeptical.  “Like… pseudo-science?”  His teeth clenched reflexively as he asked.  “Or retro-cognition?”  He couldn’t stop the hint of old rage coloring his voice.

 

Detective Han looked warily at Yoo Joonghyuk before saying.  “No, it’s nothing like predicting the future or reviewing the past.”  She shook her head once, a sign of frustration.  “I can’t explain it properly.”  

 

“Sooyoung-ssi.” A whisper.

 

Detective Han’s spine snapped straight as she headed over to where Kim Dokja was kneeling.  Curious, Yoo Joonghyuk followed.  She pulled a calligraphy brush from the inside pocket of her coat and gently placed it in Kim Dokja’s hand, nudging his fingers to hold it properly.  And, as if in a haze, he began unhurriedly moving the brush through the air over the victim’s body, almost like sweeping together wayward specks of invisible dust.  

 

A few moments passed like this.  And Yoo Joonghyuk could admit that it didn’t feel like he was watching nonsense.  To his senses, it felt like moving currents filled with potential, like being trapped in the moment where the wings of a butterfly were about to flap, causing a storm on the other side of the world.

 

Kim Dokja slowly returned to himself, drawing in a deep breath.  “It didn’t happen here.”  He looked down at the victim skeptically.  “I also don’t think he’s 231 years old.”

 

Detective Han unwrapped a candy from her pocket, popping it in her mouth, humming thoughtfully.  “Older?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

“Hmm.”  A pause.  “You got a trace?”

 

Kim Dokja stripped the gloves from his hands as he stood, seeming a bit unsteady on his feet.  And, like they had been doing this for years, Detective Han pulled an evidence bag from a passing tech, and held it open for Kim Dokja to place his gloves in.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wondered for how long they had worked together.

 

“He’s missing a lot of [Words].”  Kim Dokja sighed, obviously frustrated.  “I’m surprised there’s anything left at all.”

 

He looked down at the body thoughtfully.  “But, Jean’s [Story]... it’s definitely been stolen.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t decide if he was being serious or if Kim Dokja was faking a connection between the first case and this one.

 

《But he knew he would stick around to find out.》

Chapter 2: The Reader

Notes:

Warning:
Description and reference to suicide, suicidal tendency/thoughts, domestic violence, and domestic abuse.

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Kim Dokja woke up slowly, comfortably, his own subtle scent encompassing him.  He was buried in a familiar mattress, fortified within walls of pillows and soft blankets.  

 

He stretched languidly, only to stop when he heard the clink of metal on metal.  He tugged lightly and felt the bite of a leather-lined cuff secured around his wrist.  

 

Kim Dokja sighed contentedly while starting to dig under the many pillows until his fingers touched another bit of cold metal.  Using the tethered key, he blindly released his wrist and rubbed soothingly against the exposed skin. 

 

This was an old habit, one of the few he had kept from when he was young.  

 

《A habit that had formed after he had murdered his drunkard, abusive Beta father.》

 

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He had always known that the way he viewed the world was much different from everyone else.  His mother had also known, always guiding him, giving him stories — nurturing the [Reader] that constantly dreamed of far away places, traveling through the stream of stars. 

 

But, when he returned back to Earth, back to his reality, he remembered vividly seeing his mother, crumpled on the floor — an Alpha beaten and bruised by fists fueled by the insecurities of his Beta father.  Sometimes he would hear the voices of other strange Betas in their home, as well.

 

At one time, in his earlier years, his father had loved his mother, and he had loved his only son.  His father had been the one to name him — ‘Dokja’ — after all.   

 

But then something changed, and his father eventually blamed them for his failures.

 

Kim Dokja remembered his mother’s distressed shout, begging with a breathless voice for his father to “ put the knife down ”.  

 

At seeing his mother brought so low, at hearing his father ranting about how “ we all should die together “, something had cracked open inside his chest — what he would later understand to be the [Seed of a Story].  

 

Still, it had been such a strong feeling that it pulled him from his hiding place behind the closet door.  

 

Then everything happened in snippets, like a film reel that had been cut in certain places.  

 

His mother’s worried face.

 

The hollow ring of a bottle skittering across the floor.

 

The hard, cheap plastic of the knife handle cutting into his palm.

 

The floor stained red, a stark contrast to the old, cracked linoleum that he had stared at for years.

 

Then, his mother’s face was there, grabbing the knife from his hand.  It clattered sharply to the floor as she gently wiped his hands with a wet paper towel.  There was a small tremor in her voice as she said.  

 

『”Dokja.  From now on, I will read all of this again.”』

 

At the time, he was too young to understand that his mother had meant to completely rewrite the ‘story’ they had made — rewrite a [Story] that had already been born.

 

Then that [Fake Story] was sold for the world to consume.  

 

It had hurt him deeply — too deeply for his young psyche to fully grasp, and so he lashed out, at her, at the rest of the world.  He felt betrayed by the [Fake Story] and its storyteller. 

 

The [True Story] kept whispering to him of what really happened in that kitchen, telling him how parts of itself were taken and cobbled together with other made-up parts, then released into the world.  

 

How the [Fake Story] was allowed to continue its storytelling, while the [True Story] was stifled.

 

Constantly reminding him everyday that the [Fake Story] was a lie, and he could never share the [True Story] with anyone, could never ask anyone to help him carry the burden of it, since its only other storyteller had left him stranded.  

 

《A constant reminder that Kim Dokja was also alone , parts of himself also missing , with no one to help him get them back.》

 

《No one to help him understand why he did what he did that day.》

 

But his mother had taught him early that if enough people imagined and believed in the same thing, then that would make it true.  

 

Such was the case with the [Fake Story].

 

Kim Dokja had been left completely isolated, both as the sole storyteller of the [True Story] and in life, bearing the weight of it on his own.  

 

And, one day, the burdens came together to culminate into a single conclusion.  

 

《The end of the story.》

 

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In the dark corner of an unused classroom, he hid, tired from dealing with his indifferent relatives who kept contacting him for the next payment from his mother who was still in prison.  Tired from being hounded by the media constantly.  Tired from being bullied and beaten by his classmates.

 

He was staring at the empty classroom in a daze, with a single thought running through his mind.

 

「How do I survive in this world?」

 

He was spiraling deeper and deeper, wondering why he was even there, why he even existed.  

 

And, when he came back to himself, he was already stepping out of an open window with remnants of the [True Story] wrapping comfortingly around him.

 

The next thing he knew, Kim Dokja woke up in a hospital bed.  

 

In his confused, disoriented state, he had come to the conclusion that power from the [True Story] made him do it .  

 

Because he wouldn’t have done something like that by his own decision… 

 

Right…?  

 

「I wouldn’t have … right…?!」 

 

But, even though he was still confused and couldn’t make sense of anything, it was then that he had learned the true meaning of death.  More specifically, what his death would mean.  

 

Death would mean he would never be able to read stories ever again.  And the [True Story] that he had brought into this world with his own hands would never be heard ever again.  

 

It was a story that had been with him for so long that he couldn't bear to abandon it, not like he was abandoned.

 

But as a child who only understood loneliness and abandonment, he was never given the luxury of understanding himself , so he had developed the strange habit of anchoring himself to the bed in any way he could before succumbing to sleep, utterly convinced that, in its own despair, the [True Story] would try to seek its own conclusion again somehow.

 

He decided that, whether conscious or unconscious, he would allow himself the chance to try to find ways to survive in this world.

 

Then, just as he was coming to terms with the fact that he was a [Reader] — something he felt was entirely different from what he knew of espers and guides — and just as he was starting to figure out that [Stories] held an innate power that he couldn’t quite yet understand, the doctors had informed him he carried the indicators of a dormant Omega.

 

Because Omegas in general were so rare in their society, standard protocol was to assign a caretaker to provide for and care for an ‘unawakened’ Omega — an Omega who had not yet experienced their first heat cycle.  However, he had finally escaped the guardianship of his delinquent relatives a few months prior, and he vehemently objected to returning to them.

 

Still, protocol insisted that he be assigned a caretaker, especially for an Omega as young as he was.  

 

The doctor had kindly explained that this was standard procedure due to the sharp rise in cases where dormant Omegas were trafficked and pimped out to be groomed for the entertainment of Alphas and Betas, alike.

 

But, of course his unlucky stars shined down upon one day, and, not long after he was informed, he experienced his first heat cycle, fully sedated.

 

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Regardless of whether he had been an ‘awakened’ Omega, he was still assigned caretakers due to his mental state, and he didn’t put up much of a fight against it when it was decided, as long as it wasn’t his relatives. 

 

Kim Dokja would always be thankful for his caretakers, Hades and Persephone, who eventually became his adoptive parents, always allowing him the space and support to deal with his issues.  

 

It took many years of therapy, of listening to his worn and battered soul to finally start to understand himself.  

 

It was only later in his life that he understood that it was his depression, loneliness, and constant abuse and neglect as a child that had likely driven him to kill his father.  

 

And, his ability as a [Reader] transformed the power of the [True Story] into a source of influence that had nudged his own neglected, personal [Story] into driving his unconscious self into finding its ‘final conclusion’.

 

But, it was important for Kim Dokja to remember that whether conscious or unconscious it didn’t matter, because both sides were still expressions of himself.  

 

He listened and learned from his therapist and now friend, Yoo Hoseong, that the unconscious state was the most basic state of being, submerged in instincts and emotions that were left unformed by his conscious self.

 

Yoo Hoseong had fully supported Kim Dokja’s worldview and believed that he saw reality much differently than everyone else around him.  

 

So, when Kim Dokja had described his abilities in the context of a [Reader], Yoo Hoseong explained that it was important for Kim Dokja to try to establish a connection between his conscious and unconscious states, and develop, what he termed as, [Story Control].

 

And, although it had been a few years since he learned to perfect the skill, he still found himself waking up in the middle of the night, standing outside of his nest, the chain attached to the cuff on his wrist pulled tautly.

 

《Because it’s not only his own stories that talk to him.》  

 

There were many stories out in the world that spoke to him, as well.  

 

And, as a [Reader] who loved stories more than anything, he couldn’t help but to go to them, if only just to listen a little bit closer.

 

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Kim Dokja jolted awake again when he heard his phone ringing.  He hadn’t realized that he had dozed off after unlocking his cuff, a fact which caused him to panic.  

 

Helping Han Sooyoung a few nights before must have taken more effort than he initially thought.

 

Or maybe it was that he was able to meet his longtime “idol”, Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

The Secretive Plotter.

 

Who had not so subtly invited him to get “ a coffee together sometime soon ”.

 

To which Kim Dokja had responded with a squeaky “ sure ”, then immediately left to go wait for Han Sooyoung in the car.

 

The whole interaction had caused his heart to flutter and his thoughts to scatter in every direction, and he became so flustered when his longtime idol, aka longtime crush , had asked him for coffee, that he threw social etiquette right out the window.

 

Kim Dokja hoped that Han Sooyoung had covered his ass and smoothed over the most embarrassing interaction that he had in all of his life.  

 

Well, most embarrassing that he was aware of.

 

He laid in bed a little longer just thinking about it, for so long that his phone had stopped ringing.

 

Only for it to start up again a few seconds later.

 

He groaned then rolled over, picking up the call blindly.  

 

“Hello?” He said, his voice still rough from sleep.

 

There was silence.  

 

Then.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  

 

Kim Dokja came fully awake instantly.  He nervously swallowed.  

 

“Y-yoo Joonghyuk-ssi…?”  He stuttered.  

 

“Yes.”

 

“H-how did you get my contact?”

 

“Detective Han provided it to me.”

 

“A-ah, yes…”

 

More silence.

 

“Kim Dokja.  Do you have plans today?”

 

Kim Dokja frantically thought through his schedule for that day.  

 

He figured that Han Donghoon and Jang Hayoung would be able to manage the few staff members they had for game development, as well as handle any media postings and responses.  

 

Still, Kim Dokja would need to stop by the office, since Lee Jihye, their family’s hired babysitter, was dropping off Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung after school was finished.  He would be watching both of his (adopted) siblings for the weekend to give Hades and Persephone some time to themselves. 

 

He also made a note to call Persphone later that day, so she wouldn’t guilt trip him when she called him instead, saying how their eldest beloved son had not come to see them in days .

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t help the small, contented smile that appeared on his face.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Ah, y-yes.  I should be free today, except later this afternoon.”  Then, almost as if he felt obligated to explain, he added.  “I have to stop by my office.”

 

“Hmm.  Coffee after lunch?”

 

Since Kim Dokja was alone in his own home, in his own nest , it was okay for him to make any expression he wanted, right?  Including staring dazedly at nothing with his mouth hanging slightly open, wondering why Yoo Joonghyuk would be interested in anything about him at all.

 

He had no idea if this would be considered a date or if it would be just work related to the case, and he had very little (more like zero ) experience with what he called the “romance genre” type of relationship between people.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

After his first heat passed under sedation, it had taken a few years for his heat to return again.  He was informed that this could have been due to a combination of starting his heats at a very young age, since stable heat cycles don’t usually start until early adulthood, and due to his mental state which kept subconsciously suppressing his Omega hormones.  

 

His primary care doctor, Dr. Makerfield, who was a well-known expert in her field, as well as close friend’s with his adoptive parents, had noted this was normal for his condition. It was an innate instinct in Omegas to only go through a heat cycle when they felt that their environment was safe. 

 

When Kim Dokja was warned that his first stable heat period was approaching based on detected hormonal level readings, he had decided to endure it alone. He would have preferred to be sedated again, but he was told that it was not advisable nor safe to go through Omega heats under sedation if he wanted to develop a healthy, normalized cycle.    

 

Although Dr. Makerfield and his adoptive parents were both adamant in warning him of the intense bouts of pain that he might experience due to the absence of an Alpha, Kim Dokja merely shrugged and noted that he was no stranger to pain.  

 

He would never forget the dumbfounded look Persephone gave him, which had quickly turned stern and stubborn as she threatened that “ if he decided to go through this first heat without alpha pheromones, then it would directly be monitored by his doctor” , with a tone that left little room for argument. 

 

Of course, he found that it was indeed extremely painful, his insides spasming and clenching in frequent, rhythmic intervals.  He was curled up in his nest alone for days weathering the heat haze, sweating profusely from an elevated body temperature, and leaking slick everywhere, with very little relief provided by the few toys he had decided to bring in with him.  

 

Before the start of his heat, Dr. Makerfield had emphasized the importance for an Omega to stay fed and hydrated during their heat, a task that was usually helped along by the Alpha, or Alphas, in attendance.  Since Kim Dokja was adamant in his decision, a solution was reached to install speakers in his nest.  During his heat, an artificial tone of some mystery Alpha was periodically pumped through these speakers, ordering him to eat and drink the snacks and hydration drinks set out nearby.  

 

Dr. Makerfiled had explained that this particular tone from an Alpha was known as an “Alpha’s bark”, which caused an instinctual short-circuit response to obey in Omegas and Betas, and, in some cases, in Alphas, depending on their status in a dominance hierarchy.

 

Kim Dokja was relieved this solution worked, as he was initially skeptical if an Alpha’s bark would work on him as he had no prior experience with it in his life.  His mother had never used such a tone with him, and he was mostly surrounded by Betas during his upbringing.  And no matter how many times Dr. Makerfield tried to convince him that all Alphas had a bark, he vehemently claimed that his mother was the exception.  He refused to believe anything otherwise, because then it would mean that she hadn’t done everything in her power to protect them .

 

His heat had lasted nine days .     

 

Still, even after his heat cycle had stabilized, he remained determined to continue going through his heats alone, with a minimal amount of medication.  And lots and lots of toys.

 

Kim Dokja was adamant in learning about himself first, before sharing something so intimate as his heart , much less his heat , with another.  

 

He would not be robbed of this choice.

 

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“...Kim Dokja.”

 

He didn’t have the guts to ask if it was a date or not.  “S-sure.  Which place would work for you?”

 

A pause.  “Where is your office?”

 

Kim Dokja anxiously rattled off the building address.

 

“... I know the place.  I think [1864] has been there recently.”

 

Kim Dokja thought.  Why would [1864] have been to their office…?

 

“Ah.  He must have met with Jang Hayoung.  We have an upcoming game, almost ready for release.”  He added thoughtfully.  “She must have asked him if he would help with the Beta Testing.”

 

“...You didn’t know this?”

 

Kim Dokja laughed.  “I’m usually hands-off with our development and media teams.  I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been scolded for ‘meddling with the story’.”  

 

“I usually help during the Alpha Testing portion.”  He added, feeling the need to explain.

 

“I see.”

 

In the silence that followed, Kim Dokja could vaguely hear through the phone the cadence of a child trying to make a point and a responding adult trying to dissuade her from going down the perilous road of arguing with their guardian and older brother.  

 

Before the fan-boy in Kim Dokja could continue to, basically, well, fan-boy over listening to a bit of Yoo Joonghyuk’s domestic life, he spoke.  “I’ll see you just after lunch at the coffee shop near my office, then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay.  See you then.”  

 

Then he hung up.  Just like that.  After talking to his crush like a normal, well-adjusted person.

 

There weren’t enough words to fully explain the levels of absolute freak-out and excitement and giddiness he was feeling for a “maybe-maybe not” date.

 

He wasn’t put off in the least by Yoo Joonghyuk’s nearly minimalistic use of words and calm way of speaking.  It was familiar to him in the sense that it was how 'Secretive Plotter' usually responded in his media interviews.  And, it was actually something that Kim Dokja found comforting, since he was constantly bombarded by [Words] everywhere he went.

 

He was particularly curious about what it was that Yoo Joonghyuk found interesting about him.

Chapter 3: The Coffee Shop, Part 1

Notes:

Warning:
Description of criminal activities and gambling.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Yoo Joonghyuk found himself sitting inside the coffee shop much earlier than he was expected to be there.  

 

He hadn’t planned to show up this early, but it was just that he had wolfed down his lunch with an unreasonable thought that, if he finished lunch sooner, then he would get to see Kim Dokja that much sooner.  

 

Which, now that he was rationally thinking, was absolutely ridiculous.  

 

This wasn’t like him.  He was methodical and efficient in everything that he did.  He would have expected something like this from his counterpart, [1863], who had the tendency to rush through the necessities in order to get back the use of his hands so he could pour out whatever thoughts he had onto paper.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk just couldn’t put his finger on what it was about Kim Dokja that made him think so irrationally .  

 

It didn’t matter if Kim Dokja was a Beta, Omega, or Alpha — another thing that Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know about the man.  There was just something about Kim Dokja himself that had drawn his attention.

 

And, he could admit that he was definitely attracted to Kim Dokja beyond just the physical.  

 

While spiraling in his thoughts, Yoo Joonghyuk happened to be looking beyond the cafe window.  He spotted Kim Dokja walking towards the coffee shop from a nearby office building, wearing his signature white coat.  From what he could see, Kim Dokja was dressed very casually, in a collared long sleeve shirt and dress slacks.  

 

He wondered what Kim Dokja actually did for a living.  He wondered what his hobbies and interests were, what he did in his spare time.  Wondered how long he had been working with Detective Han and what it meant to be a ‘reader’.

 

It had been a long time since Yoo Joonghyuk could remember being so interested in another person.  

 

The last relationship he had was with Lee Seolhwa, who had risen in notoriety as a guide specializing in poisons along with their antidotes.  She was also an Alpha, and, although they had found a compromise during their relationship, it felt more like companionship than romance.  Lee Seolhwa carried a considerable status as an Alpha, even though it was not as dominant as his, and was driven by her guiding instincts every time she was around him.  It was pure biology for guides to feel this way.  

 

However, this proved to be a constant source of friction between them because, by then, Yoo Joonghyuk had already adapted to handle the use of his esper abilities without ever needing a guide.

 

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Yoo Joonghyuk’s esper abilities first awakened when he was in his teens.  Like everything else up to that point, he accepted the fact that he was an esper with little fanfare, been briefed on the co-dependency of an esper and a guide, and was assigned a temporary guide per standard protocols.  After reaching adulthood, he would have then been given the option to decide on hiring a personal guide for himself or made regular scheduled visits to accredited guiding centers.  

 

However, at that time, he didn’t have any money to be able to afford a guide or pay for maintenance guiding that would be needed.  He was abandoned and thrown into the foster system at a young age without any history or recollection of his parents or any family at all.  

 

So, in the end, he decided to use his abilities as little as possible.  

 

Until, one day, he had stumbled into an abandoned construction site that was used as an illegal base for an Esports racketeering ring, where investors could place bets on fixed Esports matches with none the wiser.  

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk was recruited, he was too young and naive to understand the legalities.  All he knew was that he would be able to make money by doing something that he was good at.  

 

And, when he connected to his first cheap gaming rig, something about it had resonated within him, his esper abilities fine-tuning his skills, allowing him to view the bigger playing field and minutiae of the battles that he fought and won in the virtual space.

 

It was the first time in as long as he could remember feeling like he was meant for something more .   

 

He won many, many battles after that.  And, although he did receive regular guiding as part of his Esports contract, he found himself using his abilities more frequently than he had planned, and it always left him in pain.  

 

Initially, he was told that it was just a compatibility issue, that he should keep trying different guides to see what would fit.  Guides were typically Betas, and, in rarer cases, Omegas or even Alphas who had decided that pack-life wasn’t yet suited for them.  Some guides could provide guiding by meditation and others by touching palms.  

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk found out soon enough that there were other methods of guiding that involved pheromones and sex — methods that he viscerally rejected outright.  He found it extremely uncomfortable to have sex with just anyone for what would essentially be a “quick fix”.  He was already used to handling his rut cycles just fine on his own anyway, so why not this, too? 

 

However, his constant push-off of guides offering this much more intimate type of guiding at the center earned him a reputation, especially with his “modelesque” looks.  The gossip mill ran strong and fast, and the rumors that were spread was either that he was playing hard to get, or that it was a power trip for him to reject so many come-ons.  

 

An even stranger one that he heard was that he was secretly the son of a chaebol family just slumming it with the guides in the guiding centers.

 

Needless to say, he began to visit the guiding center less and less, and tried to find alternative ways to manage the use of his esper talents.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk remembered this as one of the roughest patches of his life.

 

Essentially, he began crippling himself day by day.  He would show up at the Esports gambling ring, play his matches, then drag himself back to his cubicle-like apartment to suffer the after effects of not receiving guiding.  

 

He had continued on like this until, one day, he suffered from pain so severe that he couldn’t get himself up at all.  

 

He didn’t know how long he had laid on his threadbare bed, sweating profusely, trapped in a daze of his own making to escape the constant pain, his head filled with questions.

 

「What was his purpose?」

 

「What was his passion?」

 

「What was his reason for being?」

 

He thought, and in his thoughts he saw himself, day after day, practicing and competing, swallowed up by the monotony, a tarnish becoming apparent on what once shined brightly for him.  

 

Many of his peers who joined the gaming ring around the same time as him were methodically losing matches that would have resulted in an obvious victory for them.

 

Then, in his pain-filled haze, he came to the conclusion that if he ever wanted to find out the answers to any of his questions, he had to break past whatever this was — this stagnation, this complacency that his life had become.  

 

《He needed to move .》

 

After his enlightenment, Yoo Joonghyuk lost track of time rather quickly, unaware of how his physical body was wasting away while he remained trapped in his own mind.

 

Until the day he came back to himself.  Except it wasn’t just him lying on the bed.  There was another him there, too, meeting his gaze, just as surprised but unable to express it.

 

This first counterpart — this facet, this fragment — a piece of himself yet separate, had called himself [Zero].

 

And one thing they agreed on was that the intense pain they had been suffering for minutes, hours, days, had lessened just a little.

 

And, so, together they tried again, branching off counterparts of himself until the pain became less and less.  

 

And, they learned that, once a new branch was established, they could return to the main body without the pain returning as well.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk, [Zero], [1], [2], [3], and every counterpart thereafter couldn’t understand what the process was, but they knew that it worked .  

 

The probability — possibility — of being able to use his abilities without the limitations of guiding — without feeling the excruciating, debilitating pain — was a prospect that none of them could turn away from.  

 

So, they continued the cycle, until it was bearable enough that Yoo Joonghyuk thought he could finally move.  

 

But strangely he found that he couldn’t.  He had been laying there for too long, his physical body left neglected and weakend, left without the strength or proper physique to lift himself up.

 

His body was a mess, his psyche was a mess, so it was only logical that depression quickly followed.  

 

He had finally been able to achieve the ability to manage his condition on his own, only to waste away and die here in this spot, unable to accomplish anything.  

 

However, in the next moment, the door to his shoe-box apartment was kicked open, revealing what looked like an angel (which he would later learn was a demon in disguise).

 

The angel had walked in, took one look at him, and immediately called emergency responders.  He couldn’t quite make out all of the words she was speaking, or any of her features at all, but he caught snippets of “ …sure… ” and “ …triplets… ”, and he recalled that not all of his counterparts may have returned back to him.

 

After that was a blur in Yoo Joonghyuk’s memory.  The next time he was fully conscious, he was in a hospital bed, an I.V. pumping much needed fluids and nutrients back into his system, his other counterparts across from him in much the same condition.

 

He vaguely recalled sharing their hospital room with one other occupant, but he was still so out of it that he couldn’t say either way.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s next clear memory was of meeting Yoo Sangah, who was a Beta guide working as a rookie case officer at ERS at the time.  She was very patient with him while she was assigned to check his status.  

 

She had explained to him that it was eventually found out that he had been missing his regularly scheduled guiding sessions, and so, standard response procedure was to hunt him down and, basically strong arm him (Yoo Sangah’s exact words) into accepting guiding, or to confirm if protocols were needed for an esper “on the brink”.  

 

Because an esper that used their abilities recklessly and without proper guiding would either go berserk, unleashing hell upon everything around them, or self destruct.  

 

But, to Yoo Sangah’s surprise, and to the surprise of ERS, it was deemed that he didn’t require guiding at all.  

 

Eventually, they explained to him that his condition is what they called a “transcendent”, and there were few others (that were known of) like him in the world.  It was accepted as a sign of evolution for certain espers and every esper was different in how they evolved.  So, they didn’t find it odd at all that, in Yoo Joonghyuk’s transcendence, his path included manifesting multiple versions of himself.

 

At the time, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t care what they called it, as long as it allowed him to bypass the mandatory guiding requirement.  

 

He also thought that Yoo Sangah was the only tolerable guide he had ever met.

 

But, he no longer needed guiding anymore. 

 

And he had to figure out what it meant to have more than one thousand counterparts of himself in existence.

 

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Needless to say, Yoo Joonghyuk had unceremoniously walked away from the scene of (illegal) professional gaming to pursue other ways to use his esper abilities.  He had finally allowed himself to step beyond his own self-inflicted restrictions and pursued other prospects that were offered to espers at the guiding center that he used to frequent.  

 

Eventually, by Yoo Sangah’s referral, he was officially offered a position at ERS. 

 

Then, after taking the position, he returned to the gaming gambling ring with the focused purpose of dismantling it from the inside out.  

 

《He would never admit to anyone the thrill he felt when he did it.》

 

However, even though Yoo Joonghyuk himself found enjoyment from working at ERS, not all of his counterparts were as entertained.  So, they would leave him periodically to pursue other things, free to return when they wanted.

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk found that he liked it .  It was a type of family, a type of pack-life, which was essential for Alphas to function within the bounds of society.  

 

It was typical for Alphas to form what was termed as ‘packs’ to provide a hierarchical and psychological balance for their sometimes volatile pheromones and psyche, an instinctual reflex to keep most Alphas from completely isolating themselves and going feral.  

 

It was something that he had never experienced before.  

 

Then, suddenly, a young child was brought to their doorstep with the simple explanation that she was their younger sister.  

 

Baffled and surprised, they didn’t know what to make of it.  A few years were spent in finding their supposed parents, but no matter how much time or money or skill they threw at the search, not a single trace was found.  

 

Finally, they came to accept that it didn’t matter anymore.  After all, they now had a younger sister to take care of and teach and nurture.  

 

They had asked her what she would like her name to be, to which she responded “ Mia ”.

 

So, from that day forth, she was recorded as ‘Yoo Mia’, and they would prove to her everyday that she didn’t have to live up to her namesake — that she would never be a ‘stray child’ ever again.

 

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As Mia grew up, she began getting into gaming herself, wanting to turn it into her passion-profession, even though she was still young.  

 

In response, [1864] stepped back into the world of Esports, in preparation of paving her way.

 

(Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts tacitly agreed that they would likely spoil Yoo Mia egregiously, as long as they didn’t do it where she would blatantly see it.)

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wondered if [1864], or even [666], [1864]’s manager, had ever run into Kim Dokja before.

 

He made a note to ask them about it later.

 

For now, he watched as Kim Dokja crossed the street, completely oblivious to the Alpha that was stalking him.  

 

Or, maybe he wasn’t so oblivious.

 

Because, as the Alpha drew closer, Kim Dokja’s expression grew more and more tense, his arms were crossed tightly in front of his chest, and his stance and posture were showing signs of ‘fight-or-flight’.

 

When the Alpha caught up with Kim Dokja, he slipped his arm around Kim Dokja’s shoulder like he had every right to do something like that — like they were paired mates, or would be mates very soon.  And this Alpha was smiling, babbling on about something amicably, while Kim Dokja’s expression became colder and colder with every word that was spoken.   

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know when he stood from his seat, ready to storm out of the coffee shop towards them.

 

But then the strangest thing happened.

 

Kim Dokja casually tapped the unwelcome arm slung over his shoulder with a single finger, and the annoying alpha abruptly stopped spouting nonsense, mouth snapping shut mid-sentence and his expression almost going blank.  He immediately withdrew his arm, snapping straight as if a commanding officer had called him to attention, then turned around and walked back the way he came.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk noted that Kim Dokja barely spared the Alpha a glance as he continued on his path towards the coffee shop, looking slightly more exhausted than he did just a moment ago.

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help but wonder again what ability did Kim Dokja have.

 

「…and was it because of that ability that he felt so drawn to Kim Dokja?」

 

And, after his own personal failure with what happened to [2], Yoo Joonghyuk had become much more jaded against things like manipulation. 

 

After all, he really didn’t know anything about Kim Dokja.  

「So why did it already feel like betrayal ?」

Chapter 4: The Coffee Shop, Part 2

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions/mentions of relationship abuse.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Kim Dokja was not happy with the fact that the scent of Song Minwoo still clung to him.  Thinking about that spoiled son-of-a-chaebol-family didn’t help either.  

 

It further reminded him that the world of the entitled business families, and the people that walked in those circles, were much different from his adoptive parents, even though Hades and Persephone were also a part of those same circles.

 

His parents had graciously allowed him to stay out of those spheres of influence, understanding that he did not need the additional notoriety.  His experience as a child after his mother had published the [Fake Story] was more than enough.  

 

He tried not to let it sour his mood too much as he attempted to brush the scent from his shoulders.  He wrinkled his nose as he caught another whiff of it, and gave up.  He just hoped that it wasn’t so strong that it would bother Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

Kim Dokja understood that the scent of an aggressive Alpha could sometimes trigger a ‘fight’ response in another Alpha.

 

He walked into the relatively low lit coffee shop and ordered a hot, plain coffee, more so to have something to hide behind should he get too embarrassed.

 

After picking up his order, he turned to take a look at the patrons, which weren’t many, he noted, and found Yoo Joonghyuk sitting on the bar stools at a table near the corner window.  

 

Kim Dokja sighed to himself.  

 

「Did he see…?」

 

Resigned to the possible questions that he may need to answer, he tried to smile as he walked over and greeted him.

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi.  I didn’t know you would be here so soon.  I would have come earlier.”  He hoped he had successfully kept his nervousness out of his voice.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, seemingly deep in thought, his gaze focused beyond the window.  

 

The silence stretched between them and Kim Dokja rolled his cup between his palms, nervously fidgeting.

 

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes suddenly shifted and Kim Dokja was slightly taken aback when meeting such a direct gaze that seemed to have a combination of accusation and determination and maybe a little bit of understanding.  

 

Kim Dokja tried his best to mute his passive [Reading] ability by adamantly blocking out the words suddenly dancing around Yoo Jonghyuk like smoke.  It almost felt like cheating if he did end up [Reading] them, so he waited patiently. 

 

Until his patience paid off.

 

“What happened?”  And, because Yoo Joonghyuk noticed his slightly off expression, he asked.  “Are you alright?”

 

Kim Dokja self-consciously gripped the back of his neck and answered.  He didn’t want to play dumb.  He was too smart for that.  “I’m fine.  Um… you didn’t happen to see… all of that… did you?”  He asked.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded.

 

He sighed.  “Well, that Alpha, he…”

 

Kim Dokja wasn’t particularly used to needing to explain his interactions with anyone to anyone before.  Especially when it was something that involved his adoptive parents.

 

But, maybe because it was Yoo Joonghyuk, someone who also may have dealt with similar things during his rise to esper notoriety, it would be alright to stumble through an explanation.

 

He took a breath.  “That Alpha is Song Minwoo.  He was my old…classmate when I was younger.”  He paused at the rush of cruel memories of his past bully.  “He’s also the son of one of the business conglomerates that my parents… well, adoptive parents are trying to obtain.”  

 

Kim Dokja wore an expression of distaste when he said.  “His parents think that the best way to join the businesses is an arranged pairing between Song Minwoo and me.”

 

He could have sworn he saw Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw clench at that.

 

Maybe he did understand.

 

“What do you think?”

 

Kim Dokja blinked.  “About what?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him like he was stupid.  “About the pairing.”

 

And that’s when Kim Dokja realized that it was a subject he had not really talked in detail about, with his parents or with anyone else.  

 

There was never any explicit conversation that was had.  His adoptive parents had been through so much with him, learning about him as he was learning about himself, that they had already understood that —  no , they would not be shilling out their son as a bargaining piece, and yes , Song Minwoo is absolutely not good enough for their beloved son Kim Dokja — and so it was never even discussed.

 

The answer was a hard “ No ” and that was the end of it.  

 

He thought, then answered slowly.  “I… never wanted it to begin with.”

 

But maybe Kim Dokja had misunderstood Yoo Joonghyuk’s question.

 

“I thought that was obvious by your reaction to him earlier.”  Yoo Joonghyuk studied him carefully.  “So.  Is it the mate pairing, or is it an Alpha that you ‘ never wanted ’?”

 

Kim Dokja blinked again.  Yet another question that he never had to think or speak in detail about.  

 

He was finding out at a rapid pace that his social bubble was limited to a few select people — people who already understood so much about him that he didn’t have to explain much about himself — that, apparently, when talking to someone outside of his usual comfort zone — especially his crush , mind you —  was turning out to be a daunting task.  

 

It made him slightly flustered and he started picking at his coat sleeve.

 

“T-that, well… It was definitely the Alpha that I didn’t want in this case…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk raised a brow.  “... ‘In this case’… what about the mate pairing, then?”

 

Kim Dokja didn’t know.  He had never imagined — never dreamed — that far ahead, content with his current life of routine, and… basically being alone.  

 

Of course, he didn’t really feel all that lonely, not with his adoptive parents always calling him or showing up at his house unannounced at all times of the day, or his younger adopted siblings always doing the same as their parents, or Han Sooyoung nagging him to proof read her latest manuscript…or…

 

He didn’t know why he had never thought of himself being with anyone in a romantic way.  

 

Why would he?  He wasn’t really anything special, right?

 

A warm, calloused hand grasped his own, putting a stop to his fidgeting, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he stuttered.  “I-I’ve never really thought about it.”

 

A part of him wanted to flee the scene and bury himself in his nest at blurting out such an embarrassing thing — embarrassing because he was an adult Omega who left any possibility of being asexual behind after his first heat.  

 

And, especially embarrassing with every passing second, as he became more aware of his physical attraction to the Alpha sitting in front of him still holding his hand.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk squeezed his hand lightly, slowly catching on to how Kim Dokja easily got caught up in his own head quite frequently, over thinking the smallest things.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed in response, expression contemplative, then suddenly asked. 

 

“Would you allow me to scent mark you?”

 

Kim Dokja gripped Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand tighter, out of shock and a bit because of unconscious confirmation that, “Yes, I’d be fine with that.”  Then belated understanding.  “Is it his scent that’s bothering you?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk answered with a cryptic “Yes and no”.   Then, he leaned forward into Kim Dokja’s space, first cupping the side of his neck with a firm hand, then tucking his nose into the opposite side, inhaling deeply.  

 

It may have been only a few minutes or a few seconds, but to Kim Dokja it felt like an eternity, as Yoo Joonghyuk slowly rubbed his cheek against the sensitive skin of his neck, then moved upward, until their cheeks were touching.  Then, Yoo Joonghyuk switched his grip on Kim Dokja so that he could repeat the same process on the other side.  

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk pressed their cheeks together, he held him close, breathing in Kim Dokja’s scent, and he growled out.  “ Omega. ”  Deep, low, sounding as if he had just uncovered something both intriguing and precious. 

 

Kim Dokja didn't quite know what to make of it, but he noticed that he wasn’t unaffected by their closeness, and couldn’t stop himself from catching traces of Yoo Joonghyuk’s own unique scent.  

 

A scent that reminded Kim Dokja of sleepy comfort — of curling up in his makeshift nest in a cozy corner of his library and getting lost in the pages — of contentment that can only be found in quiet pockets of void-like darkness.

 

He had never breathed in the scent of an Alpha so intimately before, so, without realizing its effect, he started panting, taking short, shallow breaths, so as not to fall too deeply into it.  

 

However, he feared that it was too late — he was already addicted.

 

For a moment, Yoo Joonghyk turned his face into Kim Dokja’s cheek, lips brushing softly against bare skin, leaving behind the ghost of a kiss before pulling back, separating, putting space between them again, and reclaiming Kim Dokja’s hand.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk inhaled deeply, then nodded.  “Better.”

 

Kim Dokja could still feel the heat on his cheek, both from Yoo Joonghyuk’s warmth and from his own intense blush.  “I’m glad it’s more tolerable now.  It was starting to annoy me, too.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes.  “Does another’s scent mark bother you?”

 

He hadn’t intended to mean it that way and he quickly confessed, “N-no.  I like your…scent.”

 

He would have buried his face in his hands if Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t been holding it.

 

However, if he did, he would have missed the satisfied smirk on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, the corners of his mouth tilted up enticingly.  “Good.”

 

But then, Yoo Joonghyuk frowned.  “What did you do to him?”

 

It was like being dunked in cold water hearing that dreaded question.  Kim Dokja had already braced himself for Yoo Joonghyuk’s reaction after revealing how his abilities had a manipulative aspect to it, especially because it was so similar to influencing another’s ability to freely think and act and speak.

 

He remembered reading some articles a few years back about the relationship between the infamous Beta esper, Anna Croft, and [2].  And, although very little was said ‘officially’ by those involved, there were many gossip pieces that tried to fill in the blanks.  

 

From what Kim Dokja read from the gossip articles — which he tried to take with a grain of salt — he could guess it wasn’t a healthy relationship, hinting at mental abuse and subjugation inflicted on [2] by Anna Croft with the use of her ability.  Not much was said about the ability itself, or the full impact it had on [2], but it didn’t matter to Kim Dokja.  Abuse is abuse, and he was glad that [2] was able to eventually escape from that relationship.

 

Kim Dokja was well acquainted with abuse-induced trauma and the influence it could have on a person.

 

“Ah, t-that’s…” He swallowed nervously.  He was unsure of where to start so he asked.  “Did Sooyoung-ssi — I mean, did Detective Han tell you much about me, my ability?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought back.  What she had said really didn’t make any sense, so he shook his head in response.

 

“I see.”  Kim Dokja thought for a moment.

 

Then.

 

“My ability allows me to see… words, or… expressions…” He clicked his tongue, becoming slightly frustrated.

 

He tried again.  “It’s not exactly ‘words’ that I see... More like shapes of things, intangible — maybe impressions…?  Well, my ability helps to form those things into [Words] that I can understand, in here.”  Kim Dokja tapped his temple with a finger.  “Put enough of those [Words] together and they form [Sentences], and, eventually, they become a [Story].”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze sharpened at that.  “A ‘story’?”

 

Kim Dokja laughed softly, sheepishly.  “Yes.  My own term.  I came up with it when I was very young.”  He shrugged.  “And it stayed.”

 

“What does it mean for you, your abilities?”  Yoo Joonghyuk wore what could be described as a disgruntled expression when he asked.  “Do you need guiding?”

 

Kim Dokja answered the easier question first.  “No, I don’t need guiding.  That’s not how my ability generally works.”

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, bracing himself, gathering his courage, before explaining.  “When I look at a person — esper or guide, Alpha, Beta, Omega — the passive aspects of my ability allow me to [Read] that person.”  He thought.  “That was just an example.  My passive aspect doesn’t only work on people, it works on anything in general, whether I can see it or not.”

 

He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “Everyone, everything is made up of [Stories] — recorded history of a person or thing, what they are going to do or not do.  Sometimes the [Stories] themselves have… ‘personalities’, usually separate from the people or things they belong to, depending on how they were formed.”  

 

He paused.  Took a deep breath.  “It has only been a few years since my ability seems to have evolved into something where I can… edit?  Revise?  Basically, manipulate a [Story], to a certain degree.  Whatever I change, the change has to be ‘plausible’.”  

 

He thought again.  “When I use my ability, it feels… natural, needing very little thought to operate.  Like when you move your finger, you don’t think individually about bending the joint and flexing the right muscles.  You just move it.”

 

He bit his lip.  “I think it would be closer to what a guide does, shifting around and changing the flow, rather than an esper’s power.  So that may be why I never need guiding.”

 

“As for Song Minwoo, well…”

 

Kim Dokja looked out the window, imagining what Yoo Joonghyuk must have seen.  “Song Minwoo was already late to a meeting, but instead of going there, he spotted me and ended up stalking me.”  He shuddered.  “Or ‘hunting’ me.  I just… moved a few things around a little bit in his [Story] and he went the other way, none the wiser.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk kept clenching and relaxing his jaw as he thought.  “Is it that…easy to change a [Story]?”

 

Kim Dokja smiled at him softly, understanding.  “No, it takes active effort on my part, and [Stories] are usually not so easily changed.”

 

“…Usually?”

 

Kim Dokja’s smile became sly.  “Well, if a [Story] can be so easily changed, then it must not have been a very strong [Story] to begin with.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded like he understood.  Kim Dokja noticed his eyebrow twitched, as well.

 

Then, he asked.  “Would you be able to… [Read] my [Story]?”

 

Ah, was this the reason why he had asked Kim Dokja for coffee?  He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of disappointment.

 

But, Kim Dokja understood — from the articles and interviews he avidly consumed, Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts had, at one time, adamantly been searching for their parents or family of any kind, trying to figure out where they came from.  It was definitely important when Yoo Mia was brought to them.

 

He understood how it could feel like being dropped into the middle of a story without knowing how they got there in the first place — especially when all of the other characters around them had backstories and origins.

 

Kim Dokja knew what it felt like to have parts of your [Story] missing.

 

He nodded.  “I could try, if you don’t mind me… intruding into your personal life…?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression turned confused for a brief moment, before he looked at Kim Dokja with an almost predatory gaze.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  Said low, with the hint of a rolling growl.  

 

Kim Dokja felt a thread of arousal in his belly.

 

“I think you’ve misunderstood something.”  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand returned to curl firmly yet gently around Kim Dokja’s neck, forcing Kim Dokja to look him in the eye.  

 

“I want you to be intimately familiar with my personal life.”  He leaned in closer.  “And I want to be deeply embedded in yours .”

 

「Oh.」

 

Well then.

Chapter 5: The Theater

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It had been some days since Yoo Joonghyuk last saw Kim Dokja.

 

More than a week since he had to relearn the meaning of restraint while in Kim Dokja’s presence.  

 

Before they parted at the coffee shop, when he had Kim Dokja in his grasp, he had to put some effort into holding himself back from shifting Kim Dokja just right — his pale, unmarked neck on display and the soft feel of it under his palm — so he could just sink his teeth in .  

 

Kim Dokja would look very pretty with Yoo Joonghyuk’s mark on his neck…

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk understood that would have been too fast for most people just starting a new relationship (even though Yoo Joongyuk had his own opinions about what too slow is).

 

And he had only just discovered that Kim Dokja was an Omega.  

 

Specifically an unmarked, unmated Omega.

 

「...」

 

It just meant that he would have to hunt carefully.

 

However, Yoo Joonghyuk had the feeling that Kim Dokja was not a typical Omega, who tended to be soft and delicate, that needed to be protected and coddled.

 

No, Kim Dokja was made up of very different parts altogether.

 

Unfortunately, both he and Kim Dokja were too busy throughout the weekend and for the better part of the following week that they couldn’t quite find the time to meet again.

 

That wasn’t to say they hadn’t spoken at all during their separation.  

 

Some nights Yoo Joonghyuk would call Kim Dokja just to see what he was doing.  

 

Other nights, Kim Dokja would call Yoo Joonghyuk to talk about anything and everything and nothing at all.  

 

On one such night, Yoo Joonghyuk was lounging on the couch in their spacious living room, eyes closed and wireless earbuds in, just listening to Kim Dokja’s voice while he talked about the latest webnovel he was reading and how he couldn’t wait for the next episode.  

 

It had been so soothing that Yoo Joonghyuk had sunk deeply into a relaxed state.  

 

In fact, it was so deep that he hadn’t realized he was steadily releasing his pheromones into the air until [41] came in and punched his shoulder, grouching at him to “ Shut it off ” before stomping back out of the room.   

 

And, as he watched [41]’s retreating figure, it was then that he realized he had yet to inform his counterparts that were currently separated from him about his plan for Kim Dokja to help with [Reading] their [Story].

 

And about his intention of courting the Omega.  

 

So, instead of speaking with all of his wayward counterparts individually, he collected them all back into himself, bit by bit, and shared the information that way.  An efficient solution, he thought, that left nothing out and no room for misinterpretation.

 

Of course, he expected skepticism and opposition from them.

 

[41] had expressed disagreement.

 

『”Who really is this ‘Kim Dokja’?  Do we know anything about him?  His family?”』

 

[Zero] had expressed concern.

 

『”How will it work?  We should speak with Yoo Mia about this, too.”』  

 

When they were divided like this, it was a bit difficult to determine if the concern was with Kim Dokja [Reading] their [Story], or courting Kim Dokja.

 

[666] had expressed strategy.

 

『“We’ll need to be careful with the media finding out about this.  We don’t want them twisting the story before we’ve even started.”』

 

[1863] had expressed interest.

 

『“A [Reader]?  How intriguing.  Will we get to see his ability up close?”』

 

But, it was [999] who expressed the obvious.

 

『 “Will we be… ‘sharing’ Kim Dokja?  Is that something we want?  Is that something Kim Dokja would want?”』

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk would admit that [999] had a point.  A very crucial point, as they had never shared or even discussed sharing any of their lovers with each other before.  Which wasn’t that strange, considering that their previous lovers weren’t intended to be anything serious — which turned out to be a blessing in some cases.

 

However, in this case, Yoo Joonghyuk was very serious in his pursuit of Kim Dokja, even though Kim Dokja didn't have a clue about his intentions.

 

There were many pros in his counterparts being able to share concepts and emotions and understanding so easily, without having to speak a word about it.  

 

But there also appeared to be some cons, Yoo Joonghyuk surmised, where it seemed that there really was something about Kim Dokja that had attracted multiple, if not all, of his counterparts, leading to the inevitable question.

 

《Could they share Kim Dokja?》

 

And.

 

《Would Kim Dokja be open to being shared exclusively with them?》

 

The first question they resolved between themselves rather quickly.  The ability to instantly transfer thoughts and emotions and their many years of compromising with each other was a good foundation for them already, so sharing a lover wasn’t that difficult to imagine.  

 

And, each of Yoo Joonghyuk’s counterparts had the choice to pursue a relationship with Kim Dokja or not.  It was the comfort and routine of living as a pack that kept his counterparts returning — if they really wanted to, a counterpart could live separately, in another pack, if they so chose to. 

 

However, one thing they could all agree on was that they were either one-hundred percent effort going into courting the Omega or not at all.  It was okay if they tried for a relationship but found it didn’t work out.  

 

(Although Yoo Joonghyuk had a feeling that would not be the case.  They may all have different aspects of Yoo Joonghyuk, but they were still of the same mind when it came to choosing a lover.)

 

Still, they knew that it would be devastating for anyone, especially for an Omega, if they were treated as a passing fling because they were “hanging around anyway”.

 

So.

 

《Would Kim Dokja be open to being shared exclusively with them?》

 

It was this question that would be more difficult to answer.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk would make sure to discuss it with Kim Dokja soon.

 

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Yoo Joonghyuk found himself standing in the middle of another crime scene, overlooking the crime scene technicians and espers that were scavenging the vicinity for evidence of any kind, waiting, once again, for the “no-name” private investigator firm to show up.

 

Except this time there was no body, no victim to examine.  

 

And Yoo Sangah — Director Yoo — was standing there with him.

 

He was briefed by Director Yoo that this seemed to be the last place where Jean Baudrillard had visited before he was murdered.  The location happened to be a garden that was under construction on the roof of a theater tower located in the city center of First City.  

 

Their team had only figured this out after combing through hours of footage from street cameras and using a few espers that had tracking abilities.  

 

Unfortunately, it had been more than a week since the victim was last seen here, and many construction workers had passed through, disturbing the scene since then.  

 

Still, they had to try.  

 

So, Director Yoo had pushed the necessary paperwork through to temporarily close the construction site and allow them exclusive access.  

 

“Ah, Detective Han.  Dokja-ssi.  Over here!”  Director Yoo called out.

 

「‘Dokja-ssi’?」

 

Did Director Yoo also know Kim Dokja?

 

“Sangha-ssi.”  Kim Dokja greeted.  Then, he turned to Yoo Joonghyuk with a small, shy smile.  “Joonghyuk-ssi.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt his heart beat a little harder at seeing that smile.

 

Director Yoo glanced between the two of them, a small grin appearing on her face.  “Dokja-ssi, I’m glad to see you are getting along well with Joonghyuk-ssi.”  

 

Detective Han smirked slyly, keeping uncharacteristically quiet for once.

 

Kim Dokja laughed bashfully.  “Ah, yes.  Me too.”

 

“Oh, will you be able to check on my cat for me for the next few nights?”  Director Yoo grimaced.  “I’ll be stuck in a surveillance van for some overlapping shifts, supervising some rookies.”

 

「Check on Director Yoo’s cat?」

 

Kim Dokja grinned.  “Sure.  Yoosung will likely want to help with that, anyway.”

 

“Thank you so much, Dokja-ssi.”

 

As if sensing the questions lingering in the air, Kim Dokja turned to Yoo Joonghyuk.  “Sangah-ssi is my neighbor.  We live on the same floor, with one other unit.  Though I think it’s currently unoccupied.”  

 

Kim Dokja turned back to Director Yoo, and grumbled.  “Although, I didn’t know you worked in the same team as Joonghyuk-ssi.”

 

Director Yoo just laughed.   

 

“Enough with the niceties.”  Detective Han interrupted.  “What’s the situation here?”

 

Director Yoo explained their team’s findings.  They had found a cane and worn top hat tucked near one of the benches in the garden.  

 

Kim Dokja hummed.  “But this seems so far from Jean Baudrillard’s residence in New City.”

 

“I agree.  We’ll check that place out next.”  Detective Han checked her watch.  “Likely sometime next week, since we’d have quite a drive to get to New City.  Probably need to stay there for a few nights.”

 

Kim Dokja’s expression turned thoughtful.  “Isn’t it too much of a coincidence?  Both victims are from the same area, their residences not even 10 minutes from each other…”

 

“Worst cliche ever.”  Detective Han added, then asked Director Yoo.  “What happened to the house of the first victim?”

 

“Nothing.  It was left completely abandoned, as far as we know.  The property never went back on the market.  It wouldn’t have ‘made any profit for New City’ was the reason we were given.”

 

“Strange.”

 

Kim Dokja looked at the bench, the cane and hat seemingly discarded and left behind.  “I might have enough ‘material’ for ‘that’.”  He mumbled.  It seemed to be more to himself, than speaking to anyone in particular.  

 

“Please, go ahead, Dokja-ssi.”

 

They followed Kim Dokja as he walked over to the cane and worn hat, snapping on medical gloves out of habit.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk watched as Kim Dokja examined the cane first, then looked down at the worn tile stones and grass beneath their feet.  He seemed to consider the tiles before sticking the end of the cane into the space between them, seemingly with a purpose.  The cane seemed to readily stick in the crack, like the cane had been placed there many times before.    

 

Surprisingly, the cane stood on its own when Kim Dokja removed his hands.  

 

Next, Kim Dokja picked up the worn hat, brushing off the dust that had collected in the absence of its owner. 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk could feel the currents around him shifting.   

 

It was subtle at first, moving slowly, languidly.  Then, as if strings were pulled taut, the pattern of the flow began changing, gaining a moment that felt like ‘excitement’ with an edge of ‘anticipation’.

 

An almost golden aura spread beneath their feet, stretching beyond, covering the whole roof garden with a sepia-colored haze.

 

Then.

 

Walking from the entrance of the roof garden to the bench was the visage of their victim.  Of course, his face was considerably less mutilated.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know what he was seeing — or even what he was feeling — and he turned to Detective Yoo, a question on the tip of his tongue, but it was Detective Han who spoke.

 

“This is the power of a [Story].”  A whisper tinted with reverence.

 

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to wait and watch and witness this part of Kim Dokja’s ability that couldn’t be explained.

 

He wondered what it cost Kim Dokja, what his ability took from him, to do something like this.

 

They watched as the projection of Jean Baudrillard walked to the bench and sat, placing his cane in front of him just as it was positioned in reality.  

 

Kim Dokja reached out and placed the hat on the projection’s head, where it shockingly stayed.

 

Jean Baudrillard didn’t speak, just stared out at the view for a few moments, until it seemed like he heard a sound.  His head turned, as if looking at something to his left.  Yoo Joonghyuk followed, looking towards the same point, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary there.  

 

Then, when Jean Baudrillard’s mouth moved, lips shaping words, it was Kim Dokja who said, “Dokkaebi.”

 

But then, like static disrupting the picture on an old television screen, the form of Jean Baudrillard became blurred and distorted, until it finally fragmented and shattered.  

 

When reality returned, the worn hat dropped to the bench and the cane clattered to the ground, rolling away.  Color suddenly returned to the garden rooftop.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk quickly caught Kim Dokja as he slumped, exhausted, seemingly like his strings had been cut.  

 

And, as if they had experienced this closeness many times before, Kim Dokja slipped his arm around Yoo Joonghyuk’s waist, trusting him for support.

 

Detective Han stared at them, mouth agape in shock.  Director Yoo just watched them with a small smile and a knowing glint in her eye.  

 

Detective Han recovered.  “What is this development? Since when?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt he didn’t need to explain anything.  But, of course, Kim Dokja explained anyway.  

 

“Well, it’s…still new.”

 

“No shit.”

 

“Sooyoung-ssi.”  Director Yoo scolded.  “Leave them alone.”

 

Detective Han just narrowed her eyes at Kim Dokja.  “You will explain this to me later.”  Then she turned to Director Yoo.  “You got that other… ‘thing’ to show me?”

 

And, Director Yoo, as sharp as ever, nodded her head.  “Yes, over here Detective Han.”  

 

She looked back at them one last time before following Detective Han who stalked off.  “Dokja-ssi, please get some rest.  We should be done for tonight.”

 

Leaving Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja relatively alone.  

 

Kim Dokja glanced at him, looking exhausted but still coherent.  “Let’s sit down, Joonghyuk-ssi.”

 

So, Yoo Joonghyuk sat, bringing Kim Dokja with him, pulling him into his lap and caging Kim Dokja in with his arms.

 

Kim Dokja let out a small, surprised squeak and protested.  “Joonghyuk-ssi, I can just sit on the bench.”

 

“I like you here.”

 

Kim Dokja seemed at a loss for words, the blush on his cheeks getting redder.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk just clicked his tongue.  “Kim Dokja.  Stop thinking.”

 

It made Kim Dokja even more flustered, possibly on the edge of panic.

 

So, Yoo Joonghyuk did the only thing that he could think of to calm a near-panicked Omega.

 

A low, deep rumble started in his chest, stuttering at first since he had not purred for anyone in a very long time.  

 

Now that he thought of it, the last time he did this was to comfort a young, distraught Yoo Mia.

 

And, he watched as Kim Dokja visibly started to calm down.

 

It was instinct for an Alpha to purr for their Omega, and to see Kim Dokja respond so naturally to it settled something inside Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

It felt almost like reassurance.  Reassurance that his chosen Omega was receptive and wouldn’t push him away.

 

Kim Dokja sighed, sounding like both resignation and acceptance, and it brushed against Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, the feel of it making his blood heat with a trace of arousal.

 

Unexpectedly, Kim Dokja pressed in, tucking himself further into Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

To distract himself he asked. “What was that ability?”

 

Kim Dokja hummed contentedly before explaining.  “[Stage Transformation].  If I gather enough [Words] to construct enough of the complete [Story], and if I find the ‘place’ where the [Story] was born, my ability allows me to help ‘tell’ the story.”  He waved a hand out, motioning to the area.  “Sometimes it allows me to show what really happened.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought as he looked at Kim Dokja. “You over-exerted yourself.”

 

Kim Dokja chuckled softly.  “There’s always a price to be paid.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk just nodded.  “What happened at the end?”

 

“The rest of the [Story] is missing, likely taken by a dokkaebi.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had heard of dokkaebis in passing, but never had the chance to deal with one before.

 

“We have a lead then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He noticed Kim Dokja’s tired expression.  “Let me take you home.”

 

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened in surprise.  “ Y-you don’t need to trouble yourself.  I can get home fine.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk just stared at him.

 

Kim Dokja tried to protest further.

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk had already decided. 

He would be taking Kim Dokja home.

Chapter 6: The Apartment (*)

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of sexual acts under the (implied) influence of pheromones/aphrodisiacs , and sexual kinks such as praise, light degradation/humiliation, and light sub/dom dynamics.

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Yoo Joonghyuk did indeed take Kim Dokja home.  

 

Kim Dokja hadn’t had much chance to say goodbye to Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangha before they left the scene.

 

The short drive to his apartment was quiet, but it didn’t feel stifling or awkward.  It felt calming, especially since he could catch Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent permeating the space.

 

However, when they reached the parking garage of his apartment building, Kim Dokja had expected that Yoo Joonghyuk would just drop him off and leave.  

 

What he did not expect was for Yoo Joonghyuk to park, step out of the car, and walk around the vehicle to scoop Kim Dokja out of the car, as well.  

 

Kim Dokja flailed for a moment, letting out an (embarrassing) squawk in surprise, before putting his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck for balance.  

 

“Joonghyuk-ssi, I can walk!  You can put me down.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t even spare him a glance as he was carried to the elevators. He didn’t speak until they were in the elevator and he asked.

“Floor?”

“Joonghyuk-ssi…”

 

Kim Dokja only received a blank stare in response.  He sighed and reached out to swipe his security fob across the sensor and pressed the button for his floor.

 

The quiet ride up to his apartment felt slightly different from the car ride over, but Kim Dokja couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of the growing tension.  

 

Of course, it was only when they were stepping out of the elevator and walking towards his apartment door, did he finally realize what it was.  

 

Kim Dokja had never allowed another Alpha (other than Persephone) into his home.  

 

Territorial instincts generally were more muted in Betas, and ran higher than normal for Alphas, but it was a completely different story for Omegas.  Omegas were extremely territorial when it came to personal spaces and personal things.

 

And, in their society, an Omega inviting an Alpha into their territory usually meant… things .  

 

Things that he had only read about (…and maybe did a few internet searches on.  For research, of course). 

 

Things that he had only thought about during the delirium of his heats.

 

Things that he had no actual experience doing with a partner.

 

He didn’t even know if this was something he was supposed to tell Yoo Joonghyuk about, or if it really wasn’t that important to note.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Kim Dokja blinked.  He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed they were already standing in front of the door to his apartment.  

 

Mild panic was slowly creeping in.  He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk and patted his shoulder.  

 

“J-Joonghyuk-ssi, you can put me down now.”

 

He just needed a moment.  Just a moment to collect his thoughts and maybe relearn how to breathe normally because his breaths were getting shorter and shorter.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk must have seen something in his expression or noticed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, because he cautiously let Kim Dokja down, but refused to let him go completely when his feet touched the ground.  

 

A deep, rolling rumble vibrated against Kim Dokja’s back as he leaned his forehead against the door of his apartment, trying to recollect himself.  He sank into the feel of it, tuned in to the sound, and let it take him under for a moment, until his thoughts finally calmed down and his breathing returned to normal.  

 

Kim Dokja nearly fell back into his old habits — shaming himself for not being strong enough, for consistently losing it in front of Yoo Joonghyuk, how embarrassing it was that he kept breaking down so easily.

 

But he stopped and reminded himself that it was okay to not be okay sometimes, and to allow himself a little bit of grace, a little bit of forgiveness.

 

To remember that it was okay to stumble, to trip and fall.  

 

《Just don’t forget to get back up.》

 

And, maybe, just this once, he could have this .  

 

《He would let himself have this .》

 

So, with a nervously shaking hand, he entered the code for his lock and opened the door.  He grasped Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand without looking back and pulled him inside, shutting the door and flicking the security chain.  

 

In the next moment, Kim Dokja had his back against the door, caged in by Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

And, although he couldn’t read Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression, he could [Read] his intention.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  Both asking for permission and a plea.

 

Kim Dokja robotically nodded.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk dove in, their mouths meeting in a clash of teeth, parting briefly, then clashing together again.

 

He didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until his body forced him to remember.

 

His mouth popped open with a gasp and that was all the invitation Yoo Joonghyuk needed, giving no quarter and pressing in closer, crowding Kim Dokja into the unforgiving door, fitting a leg in between his own.

 

Kim Dokja groaned into the kiss, his hips bucking, seeking more pressure, more friction against his throbbing cock.  

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk started placing open mouth kisses along his neck, his thoughts wandered, vaguely remembering Alpha and Omega biology, how combining saliva from both can sometimes act as an aphrodisiac, depending on how sensitive and receptive and compatible the Alpha and Omega were together.

 

Kim Dokja was starting to find out that either he was really sensitive or he and Yoo Joonghyuk were extremely compatible, as his body started to burn .

 

There was a fire in his veins not unlike what he felt during his heat cycle and it was starting to light a wildness that he didn’t think he would ever feel with another person.

 

Kim Dokja was panting, his mouth watered as Yoo Joonghyuk started removing his shirt, still mouthing and licking and sucking marks into his neck and bare skin of his chest.  There was a moment where he felt the sharp edge of teeth, but it was so brief that he couldn’t have been sure.

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk stepped back, pulling his own shirt off and guiding Kim Dokja towards the living room.  Kim Dokja admired the indents and hard planes of muscle, as well as the many scars that littered Yoo Joonghyuk’s body.

 

He was led to the couch, then pulled down to straddle Yoo Joonghyuk’s lap, a hand gripping the back of his neck to drag him into another passionate kiss.

 

Kim Dokja salivated so obscenely that he no longer bothered to swallow.  He could feel it escaping from the corner of his mouth, making their kiss sloppier, Yoo Joonghyuk’s tongue gliding against his own, an invasion of his senses.

 

In the increasing haze, he felt Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands trailing down his back while he gripped Yoo Joonghyuk’s broad shoulders, nails digging in.

 

Hands wandered down further to briefly squeeze his ass before sliding forward, tracing the width of his hips, unbuttoning his pants with the flick of deft fingers.  And, without hesitation or warning, Yoo Joonghyuk grasped his cock, pumping slowly, experimentally, causing Kim Dokja’s back to arch, a low groan escaping from his mouth.

 

A firm hand pulled his head back, separating their mouths, a string of saliva connecting them briefly before breaking.

 

Kim Dokja shut his eyes tightly, the new sensations overwhelming, conflicting feelings of ‘ too much ’ and ‘ not enough ’ making him whine anxiously.

 

“Keep your eyes open.”  A silken command said with a low growl that sent a shiver along his skin.     

 

His eyes snapped back open, meeting Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze, watching how Yoo Joonghyuk studied Kim Dokja’s expression as he kept pumping his cock and pressing a thumb against the slit to smear the copious amounts of precum he was leaking.

 

For every second that he held the Alpha’s stare, the more slick kept continuously dripping from his clenching hole.

 

His cock was abruptly released and he let out a small whimper in protest.  But then Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand slipped around him and he jumped in surprise when rough fingers circled the edge of his hole, playing in the excess wetness.

 

“Such a good omega.  Already so wet .”

 

The initial squeeze of a single finger entering him made him groan, his hips reflexively pushing into it, trying to take more, take it deeper, causing his body to gush slick all over Yoo Joonhyuk’s hand.  

 

Yoo Joonhyuk laughed darkly and guided Kim Dokja’s neck closer so he could continue licking and nipping at the creamy skin while he continued to pump his finger rhythmically into Kim Dokja.

 

It didn’t take long for it to become two fingers, then three, stretching him out, invading his deepest parts, making him crave something much, much thicker .

 

“Ah!  J-Joonghyuk-ah, p-please…”

 

He didn’t know what he was begging for exactly and let go of Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder to reach down and grab his own cock, but then the fingers stopped moving inside him and he felt teeth lightly biting his neck making him stutter out a gasping sob.

 

“A-ah—“

 

“Be obedient.  Don’t touch.”

 

Kim Dokja tried to pull back in protest, however the hand in his hair pulled once in admonition, the sting of pain sending a tremor of ecstasy down his spine.  He succumbed without much resistance, his arms hooking around Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders.  

 

His mouth dropped open in pleasure as the fingers began pumping into him again, a little rougher than before, as if rewarding him for being so docile.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him in, holding him close, and growled against his cheek.  “Kim Dokja… Dokja-yah, cum all over my fingers, like a good slut , and I’ll give you a reward.”

 

And Kim Dokja couldn't help how his hips started to rock more and more, riding Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers, the lewd squelch of copious slick increasing in rhythm the faster he moved his hips.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him back by his hair and leaned down so he could start mouthing and biting at Kim Dokja’s nipples.  Kim Dokja moaned unabashedly as the wet warmth of a tongue traced circles around one nipple before switching to the other.  

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk found that absolutely magical spot inside of him and he was lost.

 

“Yes, yes, yes, ye— Right there, right, there —“ He chanted, and panted, and rode Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers like he would a cock until he came with a shout, his cum painting them both, his body stretched taut in ecstacy.

 

A filthy sucking sound was heard and he felt another gush of slick flood out of him as Yoo Joonghyuk removed his fingers.

 

The sheen of slick coating Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand could be seen in the low lighting, and when it started dripping down the Alpah’s wrist and arm, Kim Dokja would have felt somewhat ashamed if he didn’t feel so blissed out from his orgasm and pheromone-soaked haze.  

 

He half-suppressed a lustful moan that escaped when Yoo Joonghyuk lapped seductively at the slick running down his arm, causing him to rumble in satisfaction as he tasted Kim Dokja. 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him in for a softer kiss, lightly nibbling at Kim Dokja’s swollen lips, before whispering against his mouth.  “You did so well .  Do you want your reward now?”

 

“Y-yes.  Please .”

 

Kim Dokja watched as Yoo Joonghyuk unbuttoned his own pants, uncaring of his messy hands and stomach.  He pulled out his cock, stroking it with the hand still covered in Kim Dokja’s slick.

 

Kim Dokja’s jaw went slack, saliva already dripping.  He stared at Yoo Joonghyuk’s hard length, taking in the sight greedily.  And, like he was hypnotized by how Yoo Joonghyuk lazily pumped it, he slid back off of Yoo Joonghyuk’s lap to kneel on the floor at his feet, squeezing in between the Alpha’s knees, his mind stuck on a single thought.

 

He didn’t care about his inexperience — he had only used dildos before — he just knew that he wanted to drown in the scent, the touch, the taste — wanted that hard, stiff cock in his mouth .     

 

It was like Yoo Joonghyuk read his mind when he paused his pumping and tilted the head, smearing the bead of precum against Kim Dokja’s lips.

 

Kim Dokja looked up to meet Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze as he leaned closer and licked the slit tentatively, and what he found there made him burn all over again.

 

It wasn’t judgment or cunning or smug satisfaction that he saw.  There was an eagerness to see what he would do, a predatory anticipation.

 

Encouraged, Kim Dokja followed his instincts, relished how it felt to have Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock press against his tongue, tracing the veins and curve of it.  

 

More precum leaked from the tip and he licked it up greedily, becoming more and more addicted to the taste of Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

When he took the tip into his mouth — swirling his tongue over the head just because he liked it — the snarl that Yoo Joonghyuk let out sent a thrill down his spine.

 

Kim Dokja felt that familiar hand in his hair again as he started to sink down further, taking more of Yoo Joonghyuk into his mouth.  At the feel of the tip hitting the back of his throat, he was about to pull back, but the hand held him firmly in place.

 

“You can take more.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent turned sharper, more potent, the over saturation of alpha pheromones permeating their space.  It was enough to coax Kim Dokja to release his own pheromones, and the effect of them blending together helped him relax — helped him to submit — loosening tense muscles and causing his mind to sink deeper into the haze.

 

The hand on his head pressed him further, pushing him to take more, to go deeper, and his relaxed throat easily shifted to accommodate, until his nose was buried against Yoo Joonghyuk’s pubic bone.

 

Kim Dokja vaguely noticed that his own cock was hard, his hole leaking continuously, likely making a mess of his clothes and the floor.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk slowly pumped into his mouth, letting out short groans and grunts, and part of Kim Dokja felt a spike of pleasure at being used like a cock sleeve — pleasure at servicing his alpha properly .  

 

So, when Yoo Joonghyuk started pumping harder, becoming rougher, Kim Dokja’s arousal only spiked higher and higher, and he found himself scooping up his own slick so he could grip his cock to jerk himself off.  

 

And as Yoo Joonghyuk fucked Kim Dokja’s mouth, tears streaming from his eyes and drool dripping from the corners of his lips, he breathily praised Kim Dokja.

 

“So fucking good.”

 

“Such a good omega slut .”

 

“You take my cock so well .”

 

And.

 

“Ready for your reward?”

 

Kim Dokja could only groan incoherently around the cock in his mouth, practically begging for it.

 

A ring of muscle at the base of Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock slowly inflated.  Fueled by instinct and pleasure-filled delirium, Kim Dokja grasped it tightly, applying firm pressure.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk shouted as he came, and the flavor of Yoo Joonghyuk’s cum pushed Kim Dokja right over.  

 

The feel of so much cum unloading into his mouth, dripping out at the edges as Yoo Joonghyuk continued to fuck into him, only pushed him higher, prolonging his orgasm until it was nearly painful.     

 

As he started to come down from the intense feeling, both of them sat there, breathing hard, until Yoo Joonghyuk leaned forward to pull Kim Dokja back up to straddle his lap again.  

 

He praised Kim Dokja as he wiped the tears still leaking from his eyes.  

 

He placed gentle kisses against Kim Dokja’s temple while he used his thumb to scoop up the cum at the corners of his lips, pushing it past Kim Dokja’s lips with a soft command to “ Swallow ” and a gentle reminder of “ Don’t waste your reward. ”

 

It made Kim Dokja shiver, the taste of Yoo Joonghyuk like a sticky-sweet glaze on his tongue.

 

Kim Dokja slipped into a sleepy daze, still coming down from the high.  He briefly felt Yoo Joonghyuk lay him on the couch, only to come back with a warm, damp towel.  

 

He vaguely remembered his pants being removed, the brush of the cloth as he was wiped down everywhere, then Yoo Joonghyuk leaving again.

 

He must have dozed off after that, since he was jostled awake by Yoo Joonghyuk squeezing in next to him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close, then tucking his face into the back of Kim Dokja’s neck — as close to his scent gland as he could possibly get.  

 

In his daze between wakefulness and sleep, he thought that it wasn’t so bad for his first time — with an Alpha, no less — and he was already rather excited for the next.  

 

And, as he was drifting off again, his mind wandered to a strange place, where he thought about Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts and what did it mean if Kim Dokja was in a relationship with Yoo Joonghyuk?  

 

He understood that they considered themselves a ‘pack’, and it was pretty normal in their society for a pack to share.  

 

Kim Dokja would have to ask Yoo Joonghyuk about it later.

Chapter 7: The Siblings, Part 1

Notes:

Warning:
(Brief) Descriptions of sexual acts.

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For the first time in a long time, Yoo Joonghyuk woke up in an unfamiliar place, wrapped around another person.  

 

Wrapped around Kim Dokja, he remembered.

 

It was something he could get used to doing.

 

He opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings, and he noted that, in the light of day, Kim Dokja’s apartment was relatively spacious, with a large area shared between the kitchen, dining room and living room.  

 

Last night, Yoo Joonghyuk had taken the liberty to explore.  There was a hallway leading into the rest of the apartment, with a bathroom, two guest rooms and a master bedroom.

 

He was not above snooping around his Omega’s home.

 

Although, he did avoid stepping into the guest rooms after detecting scents from others, likely children.  He wondered if Kim Dokja had siblings that he didn’t know about.  

 

[666] — with his experience with never-ending scandals circulating the entertainment industry — and [41] — with his skeptical paranoia about perceived ‘threats’ — had done some research on Kim Dokja.  Yet, it was quickly discovered that there was barely any information to be found.  No history, very minimal media presence, and, even though he knew Kim Dokja was a part of the gaming company, “Underworld, Inc.”, they could not find any connection or mention of one ‘Kim Dokja’ working there.  

 

《It was as if Kim Dokja had suddenly dropped out of the sky one day.》

 

He knew it could only mean that Kim Dokja had very prestigious connections — or knew of people with prestigious connections — to have his entire history buried so thoroughly that nothing could be found. 

 

In his exploration of Kim Dokja’s apartment, he had hoped to find some clue or hidden piece that could tell him anything at all about his Omega.

 

However, he dared not step into the master bedroom, figuring out quickly that it was likely Kim Dokja’s space and where he would have his nest.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk knew that no one should ever enter an Omega’s nest uninvited unless they had a death wish.  Although, he thought, he had never experienced that type of danger with Mia at home, which he thought was strange, but Mia hadn’t voiced any complaints about it.

 

He glanced down at Kim Dokja, his face soft from sleep, light breaths puffing out rhythmically.  

 

The vision of Kim Dokja on his knees, his eyes red from crying, his mouth wrapped around Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock, overlapped momentarily and he sucked in a quick breath.  

 

「 Fuck. 」

 

Then he remembered the distinct taste of Kim Dokja’s slick and he knew he should probably back pedal fast and stop thinking of last night — before he decided to replay it in real time all over again.

 

He decided that he should get up and cook something for Kim Dokja to eat.  

 

But, as he tried to get off the couch, the shifting cushions must have jostled too much, and Kim Dokja’s eyes slowly opened.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk noticed he looked slightly confused at first, but it quickly changed when he spotted Yoo Joonghyuk next to him.

 

For a moment Kim Dokja froze, staring at him with wide eyes, a blush slowly blooming on his face, until Kim Dokja quickly covered it, burying his face in his hands.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk took hold of those hands, prying them off gently and said.  

 

“Kim Dokja.  Don’t hide.”

 

Kim Dokja squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them again.  “Joonghyuk-ssi…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk clicked his tongue against his teeth.

 

“…Joonghyuk-ah…”

 

“Better.”

 

Kim Dokja sighed and smiled softly.  “Did you sleep well?”

 

He practically slept like the dead.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”  Kim Dokja looked at the clock on the wall.  Something about the time must have alerted him, because he sat up quickly, a hand combing through his hair.  

 

Then he turned to look at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “My siblings will be coming over soon.”  Kim Dokja bit his lip nervously.  “Do you… Do you want to meet them?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk studied Kim Dokja’s expression.  “Do you want me to leave?”

 

“No!”  Then, more calmly.  “No.  Please.  Stay.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, then got up, pulling Kim Dokja with him.  He had taken care of most of the “mess” last night, and his own clothes still seemed fine to use.  

 

However.

 

His Omega was another issue entirely.

 

“Dokja.”

 

“Ah!  I’ll be right back.”  And Kim Dokja turned and disappeared down the hallway.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk scoured the kitchen for ingredients to put together a simple breakfast.  

 

He kept mental notes about things he would need to buy or leave here to bring Kim Dokja’s kitchen up to standard.  [81] would likely want to cook for Kim Dokja sometime, too.  

 

As Yoo Joonghyuk became lost in the motions of cooking, he reminded himself that he would need to talk with Kim Dokja about his counterparts.

 

He hadn’t expected things to go the way they did last night.  He had only intended to make sure Kim Dokja had gotten to his apartment safely.  

 

Still, Yoo Joonghyuk was very satisfied with the outcome.

 

He briefly wondered if he should mention that most of his counterparts were with him last night.  They had been eager to meet Kim Dokja in-person.

 

He shook his head.  It wasn’t important.  What was important was if Kim Dokja would be okay being shared between them.  

 

The soft shuffle of bare footsteps on wood were heard entering the kitchen just as he was finishing up with cooking.  

 

Kim Dokja’s hair still looked unkempt, and his eyes still looked like he could use more sleep, but it was a novelty to see him dressed in a plain shirt and sweats.

 

Kim Dokja walked towards him, a glint of something in his eyes, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was uncertainty or caution.  

 

But, then Kim Dokja hesitantly reached out, wrapping his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck to get closer, so that he could scent mark Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

Kim Dokja had meant to pull back after that, but Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t let him run away so easily.  

 

He grasped the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck and marked his own scent there, trailing soft kisses as he went, until he captured Kim Dokja’s lips for a moment, then let go.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his lips curling up slightly at Kim Dokja’s somewhat dazed expression.

 

The unfamiliar beeping of the door lock was heard and Kim Dokja quickly took a step back, smiling nervously, a slight blush still coloring his cheeks.

 

“Oppa!”

 

“Hyung!”

 

Two children, one with brown hair and red eyes, and the other with brown hair and dark brown eyes, so dark it could almost be black, stampeded through the front door.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought they looked nothing like Kim Dokja.  

 

When they spotted Kim Dokja, both rushed to him, as if they were competing, and threw their arms around him.  

 

The impact unbalanced Kim Dokja a little, but he just laughed softly and patted their heads.  “It hasn’t been that long since we last saw each other.”

 

“Y-yes, but so much has happened!”

 

“Yeah!  I found three new bugs to add to my collection!”

 

The child with red eyes turned to the other with a glare.  “You can show Oppa your stinky bugs later.  I have to tell him about the strays I found in— “

 

Before they could get any more riled up, Kim Dokja spoke.  “Yoosung.  Gilyoung.  We have a guest.”

 

When both children noticed Yoo Joonghyuk, he swore that he felt a disturbance in the air that reminded him of when Kim Dokja used his abilities.  

 

He wondered what it was.  Did these children have a similar ability to Kim Dokja?

 

Kim Dokja scolded them.  “Stop that.  It’s rude to gossip in front of a guest.”

 

Their expressions turned guilty for a moment, trading a glance with each other, before the child with red eyes let go of Kim Dokja, to step closer to Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

“H-hello.  I’m Shin Yoosung.”  Said with a shy smile.

 

The other child did not let go of Kim Dokja.  “I’m Lee Gilyoung.”  Said with a glare.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at both children thoughtfully.  “I’m Yoo Joonghyuk.”

 

Lee Gilyoung’s nose wrinkled.  He looked between Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk, studying, maybe even pouting, before he asked.  “Hyung, why do you smell like that… Alpha?”

 

Kim Dokja glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, looking slightly panicked and a little uncertain.  

 

But it was Shin Yoosung who stepped in.  “Don’t be so rude.  Of course this is Oppa’s boyfriend.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk simply nodded.  The child was smart.

 

“See!  I told you Oppa was dating someone.”

 

“Hyung, why didn’t you tell us?!”  

 

Kim Dokja smiled at Yoo Joonghyuk apologetically.  “Well, it’s still new.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at him, but it only made Kim Dokja laugh.  “We are still getting to know each other, but, yes, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi is my boyfriend.”

 

He glared at him even harder.

 

A sigh.  “Joonghyuk-ah… let’s sit and eat.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk noted that the children were rather well behaved, and not as wild as he originally thought.  He watched them interact with Kim Dokja, who listened to them attentively.

 

And, although they frequently fought for Kim Dokja’s attention, it seemed more like begrudging playfulness rather than anything malicious.  

 

Come to think of it, they looked to be about the same age as Mia.  Maybe they attended the same school…?

 

Lee Gilyoung noticed him looking and glared.  “What are you looking at?”  

 

The glare was disrupted by a flying chopstick thrown at his head.  

 

“Hey!”

 

“Stop being mean.”

 

Kim Dokja scolded both children.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk, unbothered by any of it — because why would he pick a fight with a child — asked.  “Do you know Yoo Mia?”

 

Shin Yoosung visibly brightened and spoke.  “Ah!  Yes… Well… I’ve heard of her.  She is in a different class from me.”  Her expression turned thoughtful as she studied him.  “Huh, now that I’ve met you, I can see the resemblance...”

 

He would ask Mia about this when he returned home.

 

After they finished eating, and were cleaning the table, Kim Dokja requested.  “Yoosung, would you please go over to Sangah-ssi’s place and check on her cat?  Sangah-ssi will be out for the next few days.”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Don’t stay over too long.”

 

“..yes…”

 

Before she left, Shin Yoosung grabbed Lee Gilyoung and dragged him out with her. 

 

“Hey!  Why do I have to go too?!”

 

“Because—“

 

Her response was cut off by the front door closing.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk made a note to be careful around Shin Yoosung.  She was extremely observant for a child so young.

 

Kim Dokja had already started washing the dishes.  Yoo Joonghyuk had attempted to help, but he was firmly told to “ Leave it ”, so he did.

 

Instead, he leaned on the counter as he watched Kim Dokja, studying his face, noticing a few hidden scars that would have blended into his pale skin if not for the contrast in texture.  

 

There was one hidden right behind Kim Dokja’s ear, and Yoo Joonghyuk unconsciously reached out to trace it lightly with a finger.  

 

It made Kim Dokja freeze and close his eyes tightly.  

 

“Joonghyuk-ah… what are you doing?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know what he was doing, but by observing Kim Dokja’s stiff posture, he knew not to push too much.  Not yet.  

 

With the many times that Kim Dokja slipped into near panic over certain things, Yoo Joonghyuk had the suspicion that maybe something had happened to Kim Dokja, that there were certain things that he may find triggering, and that Yoo Joonghyuk would need to tread carefully until he had a better idea of where that boundary was.

 

So, for now, Yoo Joonghyuk just leaned in, swiping his tongue across the old scar, sucking on it lightly, and murmuring in a low voice.

 

“Just wanted your taste.”

 

Kim Dokja was looking at him, pupils slowly blowing out, wet, soapy hands gripping the edge of the sink.  

 

He brushed a soft kiss against Kim Dokja’s temple. 

 

“I should go.”

 

A small sound of protest escaped Kim Dokja before he swallowed it.  

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’ll call later.”  Yoo Joonghyuk searched Kim Dokja’s eyes.  “We have things to discuss.”

 

“…Yes.  Yes, we do.”

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A few days had passed before they were able to talk again.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had been called out to assist with the capture of a wanted esper who kept riling up crowds of people for no apparent reason.  

 

Every time they would get the alert of a growing riot, their team would be dispatched, arriving too late despite how quickly they got to the scene, the crowd already beyond reason and control.  

 

They had to knock out the crowd with sleeping powder and arrange transport to the nearest hospital.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was slowly getting frustrated at not finding any leads on this mystery esper.  

 

 It was also frustrating that he hadn’t gotten to speak with Kim Dokja for some nights now.

 

In the end, Director Yoo had made the call that, until they found solid evidence on the identity of this unknown esper, it didn’t make sense to keep sending the elite team out just for crowd control, giving Yoo Joonghyuk and his team a break from… 

 

What was the expression that Flying Fox used?  ‘Running around like a chicken without a head’…?

 

「Whatever that meant.」

 

Either way it was a relief to finally be home and relax.

 

《Or so he thought.》

Chapter 8: The Siblings, Part 2

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of violence, mentions of issues with self-image, and bullying.

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Kim Dokja had been in the middle of preparing to leave for his parents’ house when his phone started ringing.

 

He couldn’t help the excited thrill when he saw who was calling.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah.”

 

“…”

 

He checked that the call was still connected.  

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk…?”

 

Kim Dokja knew that Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t usually very talkative, but this was unusual even for him.  So he asked.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah, do you… need help with something?”

 

“…Yes.”  A pause.  “Are you free tonight?”

 

He responded without hesitation.  “Yes.  What is it you need help with?”

 

“It’s… about Mia.”

 

「Oh no.」 

 

A chilling dread filled Kim Dokja and he hoped that nothing bad had happened to her.  He knew that Yoo Joonghyuk may have been busy the past few nights, but his counterparts usually were there for her regardless.

 

“Can you stay the night?”  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, a hint of a vulnerability coloring his words.

 

Kim Dokja’s heart was slowly sinking.  “Sure.  It might take me about 20 minutes to get there with public transport.”

 

“I’ll come get you.”  Another pause.  “Wait for me.”

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk hung up.

 

Kim Dokja stared at his phone, thoughts racing, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

 

To stop himself from getting too stuck in his head, he went to his room to pack a few overnight things.  

 

It was good that he spotted the framed photo of his adoptive family on the wall, otherwise he probably would have forgotten.

 

As he was going through his closet, he called Persephone.

 

“Dokja-yah.  You’re coming over right?”

 

“Persephone—“

 

“Tsk!”

 

It was an innate skill that mothers everywhere — the innate ability to effectively admonish their children — over the phone, no less.

 

“Mom… I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

 

“Why not?”

 

He grimaced.  He hadn’t gotten around to telling Persephone or Hades about the Alpha he was dating.  There was hesitant unwillingness that he felt when thinking about explaining his new relationship to his parents, especially since it’s someone they most definitely knew.

 

“Is it that case that Sooyoung-ssi has you working on?”

 

“No.”

 

“Another webnovel episode?”

 

He sighed.  “No.”

 

“Well, then what?”

 

He bit his lip.  “I have to help my… boyfriend with something.”

 

He hadn’t any idea what to expect, but the complete silence on the other side made him feel more and more anxious the longer it went on.

 

“…Mom?”

 

…

 

“Mom?”

 

“So.  A boyfriend ? …That would explain why Gilyoung has been moping around the house so much lately.”

 

“Ah, that…”

 

“Bring him to dinner next week.  We’ll invite Sookyung, too.”

 

Kim Dokja choked.  “I-it’s still… We’re still working things out—“

 

“Bring him.  He must have a few good stories to tell.”

 

“Mom—“

 

“Go take care of it.  We’ll see you soon.  Love you.”

 

Then she hung up.

 

Kim Dokja made a strangled noise.  She was either happy that he finally found someone — or she was contemplating murder.  Who was he kidding — she would probably be doing both.

 

And that was the second time tonight that he was left on a cliffhanger.

 

His phone rang again and he almost dropped it.  

 

“Hello?”

 

“Downstairs.”

 

“I’ll be there soon.”

 

He quickly grabbed his things and ran out the door.

 

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When Kim Dokja initially got in the car, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say a word.  He just leaned over, stole an unexpected kiss, leaving Kim Dokja breathless and in shock, then he started the car and left.

 

A good portion of the drive was filled with silence.  

 

Kim Dokja desperately needed more information.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah… what happened exactly?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands clenched the steering wheel tighter.  “Mia refuses to leave her room.”

 

Okay.  So she’s not missing.  That’s a good start.

 

“You didn’t just… break down the door?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk briefly took his eyes off the road to glare at him.

 

“What?!  It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do if you’re trying to get someone out of a room.”

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Alright, alright. So what is it?”

 

A pause.  “Mia is an Omega.”

 

‘ Like you ’ was left unsaid.

 

They had arrived at what Kim Dokja assumed was Yoo Joonghyuk’s home.  It was in the suburbs he noted, a full, three story house with a large garage that would hold several cars.  

 

Of course, it was reasonable that they needed a lot of space for all of them.

 

However, after he parked and shut the car off, Yoo Joonghyuk still didn’t move to leave the car.

 

Kim Dokja thought.  

 

He could [Read] Yoo Joonghyuk to try to get some context about the situation, but he had acknowledged long ago that he couldn’t — or shouldn’t rely on his ability to translate the world around him.

 

Still, he was starting to think that getting Yoo Joonghyuk to ask for help was like pulling teeth.

 

But he wasn’t so inexperienced that he couldn’t read between the lines.

 

“Is it… a new thing, her being an Omega?”

 

“No.”  Grunted out.

 

“How old is she now?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know for sure.  Since there was no record of Yoo Mia’s birth that they could find, it wasn’t sure how old she actually was.  However, since the day she was brought to their doorstep, they were not negligent in keeping track of the passing years, and they thought she was now in her midteens.

 

“Fourteen… maybe fifteen?”

 

Kim Dokja just nodded.  “I had my first heat when I was fifteen.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk turned to him so fast that, in surprise, Kim Dokja jumped in his seat, pressing back into the door.

 

He didn’t think that anything could shock Yoo Joonghyuk, especially anything about him.

 

“What… how did you…?”

 

Kim Dokja bit his lip, knowing what he was being asked.  “I… was sedated for all of it.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk sucked in a breath.

 

Kim Dokja reached for his hand, hoping to provide some comfort.  “It might not happen that soon for Yoo Mia.”  He took a breath.  “I… was a special case.” 

 

Then he tried to change the subject quickly.  “So, why won’t she leave her room?”  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stared searchingly at Kim Dokja for a brief moment, before getting out of the car and walking around to guide Kim Dokja out to direct him into the house.  

 

Kim Dokja was only vaguely aware of it all, the spacious living room, the almost industrial-looking kitchen visible through an open doorway.  

 

He was too distracted by the amount of [Stories] and [Fragments of Stories] standing around, sitting down, leaning against the wall…

 

It would be like a dream — the different facets of ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ scattered around the space, collected together in one place — however, he wasn't there to explore the castle in the sky.  He was there to help deal with a possible crisis.

 

Kim Dokja found himself being pulled up the stairs, followed by another set of stairs, then down a hallway to stop in front of the last door on the left.

 

And all he could think was.  

 

「He didn’t think he would meet his boyfriend’s younger sister this way.」  

 

He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk, unsure of what to do here.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk knocked and called out to Yoo Mia.

 

“G-Go aw-way.”

 

At least she was alive and talking.

 

But the more he thought about it, there was nothing he could do with this door between them.  He didn’t know Yoo Mia, never met her or spoke with her before.  

 

He wasn’t sure what Yoo Joonghyuk had expected him to do.  

 

But.  

 

It could be that Kim Dokja was the only other Omega that Yoo Joonghyuk knew — possibly the only Omega he could ask for help.

 

《The only Omega that he would trust with his beloved younger sister.》

 

So he had to try.  

 

Kim Dokja looked at Yoo Joonghyuk, and the only warning he gave him was “I’ll pay for the door”, before the door knob snapped with a flick of his wrist and the door bolt was completely shattered with the hit of his open palm filled with a concentrated force of [Electrification].

 

“Kim Dokja!”

 

Kim Dokja moved quickly.  Between one step and the next, he entered Yoo Mia’s room, pulling together the multitude of stray [Words] he had captured, adding in a few of his own collected [Stories] for reinforcement, and crafting a [Wall] to stop anyone from following him in.  

 

He had never seen Yoo Joonghyuk so furious as he slammed his fist against the [Wall].

 

Luckily, it held.  

 

Kim Dokja spoke quickly but firmly.  “Yoo Joonghyuk.  You brought me here to help you.  Trust me to handle it.”  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent as he glared at Kim Dokja for a long moment, the sound of outraged voices coming up the stairs inducing a sense of urgency, before he grudgingly gritted out.  “Fine.”

 

Then Kim Dokja closed the broken door in Yoo Joonghyuk’s face.

 

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Yoo Mia’s room was spacious, colored like a monochrome pallet of red with black accents.  

 

Kim Dokja didn’t see Yoo Mia anywhere in the room no matter how hard he looked, but then he spotted another door.  

 

On his way up here, he had passed many [Fragments] of her [Story], and [Reading] the ones he could catch left a sour taste in his mouth.

 

They spoke of Yoo Mia not leaving her room for anything, not even food, for a little over a day.

 

They spoke of Yoo Mia determinedly and resolutely pushing away any offers of help.  

 

They spoke of Yoo Mia fighting her own instincts as an Omega and a guide.

 

Kim Dokja had a feeling that Yoo Mia had been fighting them for a long time, and had been actively suppressing it, hiding it from her own brothers, until it exploded into this .

 

There was only one way he could think of to get her to respond to him.

 

Kim Dokja released his pheromones, permeating the space as quickly as he could, as he walked towards the other door.  

 

The knob turned easily in his hand and, after a moment of letting his eyes adjust to the dark space, he spotted a small, shaking figure tucked into the far corner, sheltered beneath the row of hanging clothes.  

 

The scent of his pheromones must have finally reached her because she immediately jumped up and rushed to tackle him, ready to do whatever it took to push the intruder out of her nest.  

 

Kim Dokja let Yoo Mia get a few punches in — which he knew would be definitely leaving bruises — she was Yoo Joonghyuk’s sister, after all — but when she dove in to try to bite him, he quickly caught her, spinning her around, and trapping her in his arms, pulling her firmly into his chest.  

 

Then, he began [Reading].

 

Her [Story] was crying out so loudly, so desperately that he couldn’t think of another way to help her.  

 

Her psyche was deteriorating too quickly, nearly on the verge of going ferally insane.

 

Kim Dokja wondered how long she had been suppressing her own instincts.

 

He began with shifting things, smoothing out the edges of the [Story], lulling it into a sleepy state.

 

A rumbling purr rolled through his chest, a desperate response from his own Omega instincts to further coax her, hoping that it was something she could seek comfort in, something to hold on to.

 

He couldn’t say how long it took, but then, Yoo Mia’s movements slowed, becoming calmer, and she instead tried to bury deeper into his chest, leaning into his purr.  

 

Kim Dokja was able to look at her clearly, seeing the signs of weakness and dehydration.  

 

She must have been wrapped in her [Story] deeper than he thought, because when she looked up at him, she whispered.  “I can’t be an Omega .”

 

Kim Dokja just looked at her.  

 

《Sometimes a [Story] just wanted to be seen — to be listened to .》 

 

“I can’t .  I have to be strong .”

 

“…”

 

“Omegas are weak .  Submissive.  Only good for breeding .”

 

Ah, this was all too familiar.  Even though, at the time he hadn’t known that he was an Omega, Kim Dokja remembered hearing this type of propaganda spilling from drunk Beta mouths as he hid behind a closed door.

 

“I was supposed to be an Alpha… an esper… like Oppa.”

 

He was beginning to see the whole picture.

 

“But I’m an Omega guide .”  Spat out with so much vitriol that he wondered who had been feeding her the poison.

 

This wasn’t something he could solve with words.  He would have to show her.  

 

But not tonight.  

 

She was fading quickly while he continued to purr, drifting off into much needed rest.

 

He tucked her into her bed before he braced himself for the next battle.

 

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Before he had left the room, Kim Dokja made sure to give firm instructions to let Yoo Mia rest and to not enter her room until she was awake again.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk reluctantly agreed.

 

However, the moment he stepped past the [Wall], he was grabbed by the throat and slammed against the opposite wall.  

 

Kim Dokja’s skull was ringing as he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.  

 

Of course it was something he had expected, but it wasn’t Yoo Joonghyuk that had acted out.  

 

It was [2].

 

For a brief moment, the violence reminded Kim Dokja of the fury he experienced from his father when he was younger, and old fear froze him in place.  He quickly got a grip on himself, just before he slipped into a panic attack, and he saw another — maybe it was [666]? — trying to wrestle [2] back, ordering him to “ Let go ”.

 

Then, Kim Dokja was abruptly released, his hand reaching up to massage his neck while he fought to take a full breath.  

 

Steady hands helped to pull him up, to lean on for support, as Kim Dokja tried to regain his bearings.  When he was finally able to breathe properly, he looked up.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was to his right and [1863] was to his left.  [666] was steadily dragging [2] down the hallway with the help of [1864]. [41], [999], and [Zero] were silently observing, although they were nothing less than furious, as well.

 

“Let’s go downstairs.”  Kim Dokja suggested, his voice hoarse and slightly shaking.  Then he walked away.

 

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It was [81] who held out an ice pack for him as he sat on the couch, feeling like he was in front of a veritable firing squad.  

 

Kim Dokja held the ice pack to his neck while trying to shift on the couch to get more comfortable, wincing a little at the small shocks of pain pulsing from his ribs and stomach where Yoo Mia had solidly hit him earlier.

 

However, he was not as subtle as he thought he was, because Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him into his lap and unceremoniously lifted his shirt, a sharp growl rolling out when he spotted the bruises.  It likely looked worse than it was contrasted against his pale skin.

 

Kim Dokja tugged his shirt back down before giving Yoo Joonghyuk an indignant look.  “It’s fine .  There are more important things to talk about.”

 

As Kim Dokja looked around the spacious living room, he noted there weren’t as many counterparts as he thought there would be.  By way of explanation, Yoo Joonghyuk said.  “They were getting… anxious.”

 

「Ah.」  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had likely reeled them in to try to protect Kim Dokja from further violence until Kim Dokja could fully explain.

 

Kim Dokja felt his heart soften at the thought.  

 

“When did Yoo Mia transition to an Omega?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk traded a glance with [999].  

 

It was [Zero] who said.  “Six… may be seven years old.”

 

So it had been about half her life that she had been fighting against her Omega instincts.

 

Initially, everyone was born Beta.  Many remained as a Beta, but, depending on the genetic lottery, some transitioned into either an Alpha, or, in rarer cases, an Omega.  It usually happened during the formative years, so Yoo Mia wasn’t too far out of the norm.

 

And, unlike Kim Dokja, she had grown up in a safe environment, which likely helped her transition smoothly.  

 

That is, if it wasn’t for Yoo Mia’s own self-hatred about the fact that she is an Omega.

 

“How long has she known she was a guide?”  He asked next.

 

“Since she was 10.”  [1864] said from the kitchen doorway.

 

Being an esper or a guide was also genetically dependent, although it was more randomized and typically only presented when there was some sort of trigger.

 

“Did something happen around that time?”

 

Silence.

 

Then.

 

“She was bullied.”

 

“Came home with cuts and bruises.”

 

“She wouldn’t say who it was from.”

 

「Ah, that would do it.」  

 

Contrary to what most believed, Kim Dokja understood that guides were not weaker than espers.  A guide's power relied on their skill to be able to direct and rebalance the flow of energy in an esper.  It was precisely because guides dealt directly with this energy that they could become dangerous themselves. 

 

Who could stop a guide from stealing all of that energy from an esper meant to trust their care?  Or, even worse, taking it all and releasing it elsewhere, leaving nothing but chaos and destruction in their wake?  

 

It was how Choi Han-Gyu had blown up so many things and killed so many people before he was caught.

 

Kim Dokja wondered about the exact moment Yoo Mia had her guide abilities awakened, in the middle of being beaten, and, in retaliation she had burned her attackers so badly that they ran away.  

 

But then she was left all alone.  An Omega, bruised and battered, becoming a guide in the middle of the turmoil… 

 

「And not an esper that could have given her the ability to fight back.」  

 

He remembered, at one time, he had begged for the same things.

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Kim Dokja looked up.  

 

“We moved her to a new school.”

 

“We dealt with the bullies.” 

 

But the damage was already done, too much poison poured into her ears, running through her veins.

 

He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

He knew they were all very attentive to Yoo Mia.  During the many nights of talking with Yoo Joonghyuk, when Yoo Joonghyuk felt like saying more than a few words, Kim Dokja noticed that he would mostly share things about Yoo Mia.  They were never neglectful and provided her with the love and care she would need growing up.

 

But he was an Alpha esper trying to navigate through the space of an Omega guide.

 

《Some things could only be understood if you stood in the same space together.》  

 

This was something that Kim Dokja had learned through many therapy sessions and real life experiences.

 

Still, he tried to explain all of this to Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts.  He talked and talked, while they listened, attentive and un-interrupting.

 

Kim Dokja had talked for so long that his voice started to rasp and his throat began to hurt fiercely, reminding him that he had been strangled not that long ago.

 

But it was only after he had gotten everything out that he stopped talking.  

 

There was silence for a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk holding him tightly, nose buried at the back of his neck.

 

Then.

 

“What do we do now?”

 

“She’ll need therapy.”

 

“Yes.”  [999] agreed.

 

“I can recommend someone.”  He paused, wondering how much to share.  “He was my therapist for many years.”

 

He felt the weight of their stares, but he was too uncertain, too afraid to meet any of them.  

 

“But, for tonight, she needs rest.  Tomorrow will be focused on her self-care.”  He swallowed.  “Then, she and I have things to discuss.”

 

“What things?” [41] demanded.

 

“Not now.  Please .”  Kim Dokja was exhausted.  The use of his ability, the constant adrenaline pumping through him, and the bruises were starting to wear on him for tonight.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk must have sensed the change in him, as he stood up and carried Kim Dokja away.

Chapter 9: The Bedroom (*)

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of sexual acts including kinks such as light sub/dom dynamics, praise, light gag-play, and (very) light overstimulation.

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Yoo Joonghyuk carried Kim Dokja to a spare room that was on the opposite side of the hall from Yoo Mia’s room.

 

He had thought about taking Kim Dokja to his own room, but it was sometimes a shared space with his other counterparts and he wasn’t sure if Kim Dokja would be comfortable with another sleeping near him just yet.

 

The room he had brought Kim Dokja to hadn’t been heavily used so it wouldn’t have many scents left behind.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hoped to stay with Kim Dokja, his earlier anger at his Omega quenched by the words spoken about Yoo Mia — about the pain that Yoo Mia had been going through without any of them knowing.

 

Of course it was his fault — their fault.  Even though she hadn’t shown any of the obvious Omega tendencies, they still respected her boundaries and followed what they knew about it.  Maybe they should have been even more attentive, asked more questions, pushed a little harder.  

 

But she had always seemed so happy , content, arguing with them when she didn’t agree, scolding them when they had crossed some invisible line, telling them her opinions about anything and everything.  

 

However, it seemed, she was outspoken about everything except for the hatred she carried for herself .

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was content that Yoo Mia was safe for tonight.  With Kim Dokja’s help, she finally was allowed a moment of peace after these last few days of turmoil, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to confront that problem until tomorrow.  

 

For tonight, he had another Omega to tend to. 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to stay with Kim Dokja, to comfort him after tonight’s events.  And maybe he was just this side of greedy for his own comfort — comfort that he probably didn’t deserve.  After the violence of the earlier events, he sought reassurance, confirmation that he — they — were okay .  

 

He just wasn’t sure if Kim Dokja would be so receptive, not after what happened.

 

But as he turned to leave, Kim Dokja grabbed his hand, pulling him back so that he could bury his face in that place between Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck and shoulder.

 

They stood that way for a moment.

 

“Don’t leave.”  A whisper of breath against his neck.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wrapped his arms around Kim Dokja and held him tighter.  

 

“It’s not just me.”  A reminder that his more… volatile counterparts were still with them — including [2].

 

Kim Dokja pulled back and met his gaze.  “I’m not afraid.”

 

Then, added softly.  “I want you to stay… and whoever else.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk sucked in a quick breath.  He wasn’t expecting that.  It didn’t seem like his counterparts, however prone to violence they were at the moment, wanted to leave either.

 

No, they wanted to be here, regardless of the anger their chosen Omega had caused.  

 

And, dare he say, it was likely also due to a sliver of guilt for wanting to harm their Omega in such a way.  

 

Maybe they were hoping for forgiveness, and the only way they could think to apologize was to stay.

 

Oh, Yoo Joonghyuk would have “words” with [2] later.

 

But, for now, they could have this .

 

In response to Kim Dokja’s request, he started moving them towards the bed.

 

Until Kim Dokja pulled him to a stop.

 

“Um… Yoo Joonghyuk… Joonghyuk-ah…”

 

“Spit it out, Kim Dokja.”

 

“Do you… maybe… havehandcuffsIcoulduse?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stared.  「Had he heard that right?」

 

“It’s not what you think.”  Kim Dokja said quickly, defensively.  

 

「As if that would explain anything .」

 

“You see, I forgot to grab a pair from my place.”

 

「Not helpful.」

 

“And I usually wear them when I sleep.”

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Ah, y-yes?”

 

“Why do you need handcuffs… to sleep?”  He hadn’t needed them the last time Yoo Joonghyuk stayed at his Omega’s apartment.

 

“Well, that…”  Kim Dokja bit his lip nervously.  “I have a tendency to… sleepwalk sometimes.”

 

Now this… This was new information.    

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had questions, so many questions to ask Kim Dokja, that were about Kim Dokja , but, he was slowly realizing that maybe he didn’t have to pry, didn’t have to ask too much for answers to those questions.  

 

Maybe if he was with Kim Dokja all the time, then he would eventually find out everything about him.

 

“My ability as a [Reader]… sometimes the [Stories] speak to me… when I’m sleeping…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk countered.  “This didn’t happen last time.”

 

Kim Dokja paused, a brief look of confusion flitting across his face, before his eyes widened and a blush bloomed high on his cheeks.  “T-that may have been because of the… activities we did… I must have been really out of it.”

 

Yes, Kim Dokja really had been dazed afterwards, sleeping rather deeply.  

 

So, Yoo Joonghyuk had an idea.

 

It started with him herding Kim Dokja towards the bed.

 

“U-um, Joonghyuk-ah, what are you doing?”

 

Kim Dokja’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t let him think.  

 

He grasped the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck, gently, much too aware of the hand-shaped print that had formed there from earlier.  

 

Then he stepped in, fitting a leg between Kim Dokja’s legs, burying his nose in Kim Dokja’s neck, and inhaling deeply.

 

His scent reminded Yoo Joonghyuk of vast, open spaces, of endlessly drifting in a quiet darkness, of a type of peace he had not experienced ever since his time in the Dark Fault — like finally finding an answer to a question he had been asking for hundreds of thousands of years.  It was a scent that he could breathe forever, that he had all the time in the world to do just that, that, for once, he didn’t have to rush towards the next thing.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah.”  Said quietly, almost sweetly.  Then he felt a tentative hand run through his hair.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk trailed feather-light kisses against smooth skin, stopping to lick at the scar behind Kim Dokja’s ear.  

 

He felt Kim Dokja’s pulse beating harder under his palm, under his lips, and he whispered.  “Are you tired, Dokja-yah?”

 

A small whimper was his only response.

 

“Use your words.”

 

“Nghh— Not tired.”

 

“Good Omega.”

 

Suddenly, Yoo Joonghyuk released Kim Dokja, stripping off his own shirt, before pushing Kim Dokja to lie on the bed.  

 

He crawled over Kim Dokja, slowly undressing him as he placed open-mouth kisses, drawing patterns with his tongue up Kim Dokja’s stomach, ribs, chest, nipples — paying special attention to the bruises that had formed from his earlier struggles.

 

And as he was sucking and biting at Kim Dokja’s nipples, enjoying how red they were getting, he stuffed the bottom edge of the shirt into Kim Dokja’s mouth, ordering him to “ Bite ”.

 

Kim Dokja compliantly took the edge of the shirt between his teeth, moaning softly when he was praised. 

 

“So obedient.”

 

He studied Kim Dokja’s face, color blooming across his pale chest, pupils blown out wide, his lips and teeth gripping the edge of the shirt, and he thought.  

 

「So fuckin’ pretty .」

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to kiss Kim Dokja, invade his mouth and taste him deeply, but if he had learned anything from last time, he and Kim Dokja were extremely compatible.  This time, he wanted to spend a little more time just as they were, without the effects of the aphrodisiac muddling their systems.

 

So instead, Yoo Joonghyuk kissed his temple gently and said,  “You need to be quiet.”

 

Kim Dokja whimpered, his hands reflexively clamping onto Yoo Joognhyuk’s shoulders while he unbuttoned Kim Dokja’s pants, pulling them off, followed closely by his underwear.

 

And, as he kneeled on the bed, looking down at Kim Dokja, he couldn’t help but think that the vision of Kim Dokja looking exactly like this — his hands gripping the pillows and sheets, his chest heaving in anticipation, shirt still clenched tightly between his teeth, drool starting to escape from his lips, his cock stiff and leaking — only further convinced Yoo Joonghyuk that everything about Kim Dokja was meant to entice .

 

He returned his attention to Kim Dokja’s nipples, starting with soft licks, then getting firmer, always attentive of Kim Dokja’s body language, his breathing.  

 

Then, he licked down, tracing the indents of his ribs, the curve of his hip.

 

Then, lower still, mouthing Kim Dokja’s cock lightly, teasingly, enjoying the way Kim Dokja’s hips kept bucking until Yoo Joonghyuk clamped it down with a firm grip.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk let out a low, pleased groan at finally tasting Kim Dokja again, his mouth still exploring the curve of Kim Dokja’s cock, while his other hand was trailing lower.

 

He murmured in approval when he found how wet Kim Dokja already was, and he immediately started to trace the rim, feeling it clench and release, and he growled softly as he felt a gush of slick sliding over his fingers.

 

“Mmph…”

 

Did that sound like a plea?

 

It was a good start.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk kept playing with the edges of Kim Dokja’s hole as he swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, pressing roughly against the slit.  Without warning, he swallowed him completely and stuffed him full with his fingers all at once.

 

“Mmmm!”

 

And, Yoo Joonghyuk watched with hooded eyes as Kim Dokja arched so beautifully off the bed, head thrown back, gripping the sheets like an anchor, a muffled shout squeezed out between his teeth.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he couldn’t hear it clearer.

 

「Maybe next time.」

 

He kept pumping his fingers, penetrating roughly while he worked Kim Dokja’s cock with his mouth, aware of his own cock grinding into the bed through his pants.

 

And, as Yoo Joonghyuk continued working Kim Dokja over, Kim Dokja was curling over Yoo Joonghyuk instead of arching back, hips firmly pinned down, fingers clawing desperately at Yoo Joongyuk’s back and shoulders.  

 

He knew Kim Dokja was close, could feel it in the tightening suction around his fingers, so he found his Omega’s sweet spot and attacked it with ruthless precision.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair was gripped tightly, Kim Dokja’s hips now bucking uncontrollably, the motion wild and unsure about whether to push deeper into Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth or press back further onto his fingers, until —

 

Kim Dokja came beautifully, and Yoo Joonghyuk made sure to catch every last drop as Kim Dokja shot into his mouth.  The taste of his Omega was nearly divine, eliciting a possessive rumble that vibrated along Kim Dokja’s already sensitive cock, prolonging the Omega’s orgasm and causing a flood of slick to coat Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t mind it at all and kept devouring him, greedy and gluttonous for every single bit that he could get.  When it was as clean as he could make it, Yoo Joonghyuk released Kim Dokja and sat up, fingers still invading roughly, working Kim Dokja’s hole for more slick as he listened to the Omega’s muffled whimpers of protest.

 

“You look so pretty like this, Dokja-yah.”

 

He unbuttoned his pants and gripped his bare cock in one hand.  He leaned over Kim Dokja, folding Kim Dokja in half, hooking Kim Dokja’s legs over his shoulders.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk removed his fingers, using the copious amount of slick he had collected as lube, and gripped their cocks together in his palm.

 

Kim Dokja grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s wrist in protest, trying to stop him from pumping, his cock probably still too sensitive from his orgasm, but Yoo Joonghyuk only shushed him.

 

“Be a good omega for me, Dokja-yah.”

 

Kim Dokja whined, high and sweet, his eyes glazed in aroused acceptance.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk bent forward, tugging the shirt out of Kim Dokja’s mouth, before capturing his lips.  

 

He licked and sucked at Kim Dokja’s mouth before diving in, pressing Kim Dokja down into the pillows, as he gripped their cocks harder, pumping faster.   

 

He watched as Kim Dokja’s face turned slack, his jaw relaxing — a sign of submission that satisfied the Alpha while their tongues swiped against each other.

 

He could tell Kim Dokja was already building up to another orgasm, his reactions more eager, his hips bucking to use Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip to get more friction.

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk felt a hand in his hair again, Kim Dokja pressing there mouths more firmly together.  Kim Dokja’s other hand joined his, weaving their fingers together, wrapping around their cocks, tightening their grip for a little more pressure.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk snarled into Kim Dokja’s mouth, diving deeper into the pleasure, their kiss getting sloppier and wetter, pumping faster and faster together until—

 

They shouted into each other’s mouth as cum painted them, the squelching sound of their moving hands getting slower and slower.  

 

After a moment, they eased away from each other, both breathing heavily.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nearly let a loud groan escape when Kim Dokja lifted his messy hand to his mouth and began licking it clean with long wet swipes of his tongue and soft moans of satisfaction slipping from his lips like he was eating something delicious .

 

Then, when he was done, he grasped Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand and did the same.

 

The feel of Kim Dokja’s tongue against his cum-coated skin nearly made him want to start all over again.

 

Instead, he whispered encouragement. 

 

“Just like that, Dokja-yah.”

 

“Good Omega, cleaning up your own mess.”

 

Kim Dokja huffed a soft laugh at that.

 

When Kim Dokja released him, he got up and used his shirt to wipe Kim Dokja and himself off, while Kim Dokja watched him lazily, like a satisfied sleepy cat.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk once again joined Kim Dokja on the bed, pulling the covers over them both, trapping him close with his arms.  And as he listened to his Omega’s breathing deepen, he thought.  

 

Maybe Kim Dokja would find that he no longer needed to sleep with handcuffs.

Chapter 10: The Storyteller

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Kim Dokja woke up buried in unfamiliar bedding yet surrounded by a scent that he was slowly getting accustomed to.

 

《A scent he was starting to crave .》

 

Although, he noted drowsily, the owner of that scent had left the bed in the early hours of the morning after getting called in to ERS.  

 

Kim Dokja tried to capture the scent for himself, burying his nose in the pillow, before stretching and climbing out of bed.  

 

He hadn’t had a chance to really look at the room, but he noted that it was rather bare, with a bed, dresser, and side table, and was painted in neutral colors.  

 

Belatedly, he noticed his overnight bag was placed by the door and he thought that Yoo Joonghyuk must have brought it up for him before he left.

 

Kim Dokja quickly changed, using the en suite bathroom to refresh himself, before he left the room.

 

Immediately recognizing the broken door across the hall, he checked to see if the [Wall] was still intact.

 

He wasn’t sure who he would confront when she awoke — Yoo Mia or her [Story]— so he checked the [Wall] a second time, adding more [Words] to the areas where Yoo Joonghyuk, and maybe a few others, had battered at it in frustration.

 

When he was satisfied, Kim Dokja walked downstairs, noting that the house was quiet, until he drew nearer to the kitchen that he vaguely remembered seeing the night before.

 

He wasn’t too surprised to see [81] preparing a simple breakfast big enough to feed an army.  

 

A feeling of uncertainty spiked through him as he stood in the doorway, watching.  Would he be welcomed or would he be intruding?

 

「Nothing ventured, nothing gained.」

 

Kim Dokja stepped noisily into the kitchen, boldly pulling out one of the bar stools to sit at the counter island that separated the kitchen space from the dining space.

 

Without a word spoken, [81] set down a plate full of food in front of him.  

 

It was only when Kim Dokja started eating — the food was so fucking good that he wanted to moan in satisfaction, but didn’t because manners — that [81] spoke.

 

“I’m not ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’.”

 

Kim Dokja paused.  He knew that already, so why…?

 

He imagined what it would be like to have multiple versions of yourself, each and every one of them having the exact same features — how, to someone who wasn’t a [Reader], they could be easily confused, given an identity that belonged to someone else.  

 

But Kim Dokja was a [Reader], used to his ability passively feeding him information, and he thought the differences between Yoo Joonghyuk and all of his counterparts were miles wide.  He [Read] each of them as individuals, holding their own [Stories] — even if they shared a common origin [Story].

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Individuals with the same techniques to admonish him, apparently.

 

“I know...”  He paused to think about his answer.  “I know you’re not ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’.”

 

“How can you be sure?”  Said with a derisive lilt, almost as if he was trying to start a fight.

 

It was [41] who asked the question, who walked into the kitchen with a chip on his shoulder that was big enough to make Kim Dokja feel slightly off balance.  

 

However he wouldn’t rise to the obvious bait.

 

He only looked at [41] thoughtfully as [41] pulled out the stool next to him, promptly invading his space.

 

Kim Dokja could explain, he could tell them how he was a longtime fan of Yoo Joonghyuk — that he knew about every single one of them.  That he read all of the articles that he could get his hands on ever since he started his therapy sessions with Yoo Hoseong.  Sometimes, if Hoseong was feeling talkative, he would listen to stories told by Yoo Hoseong about Yoo Joonghyuk.  Other times the stories came from Hoseong’s disciple, Namgung Minyoung, when she would stop by Hoseong’s territory.

 

He knew how [81] was so focused on his culinary skills, that he had traveled the known world over a period of three years, leaving his mark wherever he went, so that, when he returned to First City, he had opened up a restaurant, where he only showed up to cook whenever he felt like it.

 

He knew how [41] was the most similar to Yoo Joonghyuk, always accompanying him as back up for high risk ERS assignments, even if, more often than not, he was abrasive in personality and tended to play devil’s advocate against Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

However, Kim Dokja was not so arrogant as to actually know everything about Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts since not all of his counterparts had made themselves very well known in this world.  There were at least 1,864 of them, after all.  And, for all Kim Dokja knew, there could be more.  

 

Still, he would rather die than explain any of this to anyone, especially Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts.

 

So, Kim Dokja simply shrugged, and said.  “I just do.”  Then, he continued eating.

 

Of course, [41] would not be satisfied with such a bland answer, and he kept pestering Kim Dokja while he ate his breakfast.  

 

“What do you mean you ‘ just do ’?”

 

“That’s just like saying ‘water is wet’.”

 

Kim Dokja looked at [41] innocently.  “But water is wet.”

 

“Gah!  See!  What the hell kind of explanation is that?”

 

Kim Dokja noticed that [41] was definitely more talkative than Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

“How the hell are you able to tell us apart?  Not even Lee Seolhwa — ”

 

“Enough, [41].”

 

Kim Dokja heard the warning in stereo, coming from both [81] and another, [1864], who had just walked into the kitchen, followed by [1863].

 

They did not sit down like [41].  [1864] was putting a plate together, while [1863] approached Kim Dokja cautiously.

 

[1863] looked down briefly at Kim Dokja’s empty plate, then asked.  “Are you finished eating?”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.

 

“Mia is awake.”

 

「Ah.」

 

It was finally time.  He stood, smiling gratefully at [81].  “Thank you for the meal.”

 

[81] just nodded, although Kim Dokja didn’t miss the feel of his gaze trailing after him as he left the kitchen.

 

Contrarily, [41] decided to follow.  “What are you going to do?”

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully.  “Depends.”

 

“Tch.  Depends on what , exactly?”

 

“Yoo Mia.”

 

“...You’re insufferable.”  

 

Kim Dokja looked back at [41] with a sly smile.  “You’re still talking to me.”

 

If he hadn’t looked back, he would have missed [41]’s speechless expression, before he looked away.  

 

Was there also a hint of red at the tips of his ears?

 

As they approached Yoo Mia’s room, Kim Dokja could see that her broken door was wide open, but the [Wall] prevented her from leaving, as well as stopping anyone from entering.

 

Yoo Mia was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, wearing a perturbed expression.  When she spotted them approaching, she demanded.  “What the hell is this?  Why can’t I leave?”  

 

Kim Dokja approached guardedly.  He didn’t know enough about Yoo Mia, didn’t know her typical mannerisms without the influence of her [Story] directing her.  It was one thing his ability couldn’t distinguish.  So, he had to make sure that it was Yoo Mia, and not her [Story], that was in the driver’s seat.

 

He stood in front of her, separated by the [Wall], and stared.  

 

Yoo Mia’s expression became more disgruntled.  “What are you looking at?”

 

That was the first clue.  It wasn’t “Who are you?” Or “What are you doing here?”

 

Kim Dokja sighed.  He had really hoped that he wouldn’t have to use his ability in this manner again so soon.

 

He stepped back, reaching the opposite wall, and slid down to sit.  He had a feeling he would be exhausted for a little while after this.  

 

「He just needed a bit more time.」  

 

[1863] sat beside him, his expression full of interest, while [1864] looked annoyed and [41] looked at him incredulously.  

 

Kim Dokja suggested, “You may want to sit for a bit.  Yoo Mia hasn’t fully come to her senses just yet.”

 

[1864] looked at Yoo Mia, jaw clenching as he studied her, hoping to spot the difference.

 

“What do you mean?”  Ground-out, a growl just rolling in at the edges.

 

Kim Dokja shivered.  He would examine why that certain tone affected him later.

 

“Oppa, what are you doing?” Yoo Mia saw the food in his hands.  “Is that for me?  I’m so hungry.”  

 

Kim Dokja asked [1864].  “Is she usually like this?”

 

“I…” It seemed like [1864] didn’t know how to answer.

 

That was okay.  Although there was a hint of doubt, [1864], [1863], and [41] were thinking of the ‘Yoo Mia’ they knew, the ‘Yoo Mia’ they had loved and cherished and protected, [Words] slowly drifting off of them like a trickle of water before widening into a stream.  

 

Kim Dokja began collecting those [Words].

 

“Oppa, why are you just standing there?”

 

「A little more.」

 

“Oppa, am I being punished for something?”

 

「A little bit more.」

 

Yoo Mia began crying, tears trickling down her face.

 

Kim Dokja watched as [1864]’s expression began to crack.

 

Still, he needed more time.

 

“Does she usually cry like that?”

 

It was [41] who answered.  “No… hardly ever… not since…” 

 

‘ Not since she came home with cuts and bruises. ’ Was left unsaid, unfinished.

 

And that was all the time Kim Dokja needed.  

 

He unleashed his status as an Omega.  

 

Yoo Mia immediately came to attention, falling into a defensive posture, instinctively recognizing him from their brief battle last night.

 

But he was also a [Reader] who had years of experience dealing with stubborn [Stories], so he knew how to make a [Story] listen and obey .

 

【Sit.】

 

Yoo Mia sat.  

 

[1864] aggressively snarled at him.  “What did you do?!”

 

With his status wide open, Kim Dokja was wading deeply into his Omega instincts.  Although those instincts were telling him this was an Alpha he would accept, a potential mate, he had to remind himself that he didn’t know anything about this Alpha, not a single thing.  

 

That this Alpha didn’t really know anything about him .  Not yet anyway.  

 

But Kim Dokja could slowly show him.

 

He snarled back.  “Let me do what I need to do.  If you can’t handle it, you can leave .”

 

[1864] looked as if he was readying to bite back, maybe even start a fight for dominance by opening his own status as an Alpha, but [41] stopped him.  

 

“Let him do it.”

 

“Yes.  Let him.  That is not the ‘Yoo Mia’ we are familiar with.”

 

Of course [1863] would know, Kim Dokja thought.  He had the instincts of an author, after all.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, like the conflict was settled, then returned his attention to Yoo Mia.

 

He addressed her [Story] directly.  “You must let Yoo Mia out.”

 

Her [Story] pouted.  “Why would I do that?  I’ll just go back to my own confinement.”

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  “No.  You won’t.”

 

Her [Story] looked at him skeptically.  “Why would I believe that?”

 

Kim Dokja let his own [Story] speak for him.  

 

Moments passed as Yoo Mia’s [Story] listened.  

 

It listened to how his own [Story] was confined for a long time until, one day, it wasn’t.  

 

How sometimes you needed to ask for help and allow room for a little bit of faith that the help would be given.  

 

That you must bend a little, but not so much that you would break.

 

And as her [Story] was listening, it whispered.  “She thinks we are weak.”

 

Kim Dokja also listened.

 

“She thinks we are useless.  Not good enough.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed.  “It sounds like she has been listening to too many other [Stories].”

 

“Yes.”  Hissed out.  

 

“She will listen to you, too.  But you must give her a chance.”

 

“Too many chances already.”  Her [Story] looked briefly away, before glancing back at him.  “She is slowly dying — killing herself.”

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a breath.  He heard a pained noise that sounded like denial from his left.

 

“Why do you think so?”

 

“Too much energy circulating with no skill to control it.  Too much letting other [Stories] into her space, sometimes letting them touch her things.  She will not guide.  She will not follow her Omega instincts.  So what is left?”

 

Kim Dokja knew.  A guide that didn’t guide and an Omega who never followed their instincts would eventually go crazy.  A person can only go so long, constantly fighting themself, denying themself.  

 

Yoo Mia’s [Story] was just trying to protect her.  

 

But she couldn’t live like this for the rest of her life.

 

Slowly, so as not to cause alarm, Kim Dokja started releasing the other [Story] he had been crafting — the [Story] made up of [Words] of love, of care.  

 

[1863] turned to him.  

 

「Could [1863] hear the [Story], too?」

 

Yoo Mia’s [Story] looked at him with shaking eyes.  “What are you doing?”

 

“You must allow your [Storyteller] the chance to speak for herself.”

 

“No— “

 

“Otherwise, you will never see the ending you want.”

 

Her [Story]’s expression began cracking, genuine tears rolling down its cheeks.  “She will silence me again.”

 

Kim Dokja shook his head, continuing the [Story] made up of the attentiveness and protectiveness of her [Storyteller]’s caretakers.  “You won’t be ignored.  Not anymore.”

 

Her [Story] shook.  “Y-you promise?”

 

“Yes.” It was [1864] who answered.

 

Her [Story] stared at them a moment, weighing, and nodded.

 

Then she looked at Kim Dokja.  “And, you.  You will show her a new [Story].  Make sure she understands what it means to be Omega.”

 

The weight of their stares was heavy as he forced out, “Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

Then, her [Story] stopped its storytelling.

 

Yoo Mia’s posture visibly sagged and she looked around with confused eyes.  Then she spotted [1864].  

 

“O-oppa…?”  Soft, weak, so very fragile.

 

Kim Dokja quickly removed the [Wall] as [1864] rushed forward, wrapping her in his arms.  He gave them a moment as he tried to regain his own strength.      

 

[1863] wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to press a whisper of a kiss against Kim Dokja’s temple.  

 

“Thank you.”  Said quietly.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, closing his eyes.  “She needs a bath, food, then rest, in that order.”

 

And, maybe Kim Dokja needed rest, too, as he drifted off not long after, buried in the scent of [1863].

Chapter 11: The Author

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of mild violence.

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[1863] invited Kim Dokja into his study — a private space in the far corner of the house — after Kim Dokja had awoken from his nap.  

 

[1863] had just gone up to check if Yoo Mia was resting well when he found Kim Dokja walking out of his room.

 

They had a brief conversation as Kim Dokja was waking up from his sleepy daze, where [1863] had mentioned he was an author and would Kim Dokja like to see his collection of manuscripts in his library?  

 

[1863] had never seen someone’s eyes light up so quickly.  

 

Kim Dokja had agreed, and now, here they were, browsing through the shelves.  

 

It was also a first for [1863], where he listened to someone else talking about his manuscripts in such detail, instead of the other way around.  

 

And the longer he listened to Kim Dokja speak with such passion about his works, the more he was starting to understand how Yoo Joonghyuk was so sure that this Omega would be his — how this Omega could be theirs .  

 

It wasn’t just Kim Dokja’s voice, it was how he looked — a certain light shining from within when he opened himself up so unreservedly.  

 

Combined with his scent, [1863] was starting to imagine many lazy hours, maybe even days, being spent with this Omega — the soft scratch of a pen on paper as they drew out character charts and power structures for [1863]’s fusion-fantasy works, or the clacking of keys as [1863] rested against the Omega, who would be reading over his shoulder while the words, sentences, and paragraphs were formed. 

 

“[1863]?”

 

Kim Dokja was looking at him, a small smile curling his lips, a manuscript flipped open in his hands.

 

[1863] glanced at the manuscript.  It was one of his earlier works — a story about a boy who had tried to save the world from destruction by climbing a tower, but when he finally reached the top, it only opened to an empty sky that he had to fill up with his own vision of the world in order to break free.

 

[1863] remembered writing that piece like he was a zombie, words constantly pouring onto the pages, losing days and weeks and months, until he finished it.

 

He also recalled that it wasn't one of his more popular works.  

 

It was received with mixed reviews because it didn’t have a definitive conclusion.  

 

He remembered receiving a question during an interview about whether the boy had saved or destroyed his old world by recreating and replacing it with his own version of the world.

 

[1863] still didn’t know how to answer that question, so he asked.  “Do you think he saved his old world?”

 

Kim Dokja tilted his head.  “I think… It is up to the reader to decide.”  

 

A pause.  

 

“But was that really the end for him?  Does the story really end once there are no more words to read once the author stops writing them?  Does the story only need to come from one author in order to be complete?”

 

[1863] saw a curious glint in Kim Dokja’s eyes before he continued.  “Have you read the online fanfictions for this novel?”

 

And that’s how [1863] found himself scrolling through hundreds and thousands of listings of online fanfiction that were inspired by this one novel alone.  

 

“See.  Look at all of these.”  Kim Dokja pointed out.  “Maybe the right question isn’t whether he saved his old world or not.  Maybe it should be how many worlds were imagined — were created because of him?”

 

Kim Dokja tilted his head.  “Although, our protagonist must be really tired going through all of these different genres of himself.”  

 

He looked at [1863] slyly.  “Maybe you should write some canon fiction about him taking a rest.”

 

「…」

 

Maybe [1863] would write a story like that.  A sequel to the epilogue.  

 

He was about to ask Kim Dokja about how it should start when the door to his study opened and Yoo Joonghyuk strode in.  [1863] briefly bristled at the intrusion — his Alpha feeling rather possessive of his Omega — a reaction that took him aback since he couldn’t remember ever feeling this fiercely before.

 

“Ah, Joonghyuk-ah, we were just talking about— Ack!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded shortly at [1863] as he scooped Kim Dokja up, sat down, and settled him in his lap.

 

Kim Dokja threaded his fingers through Yoo Joonhyuk’s hair when he buried his face in Kim Dokja’s neck.  

 

Kim Dokja glanced shyly at [1863] while he lightly scolded Yoo Joonghyuk for interrupting.  

 

[1863] would admit he was a little jealous.  

 

On impulse, he reached for Kim Dokja’s other hand, twining their fingers together, asking for attention.

 

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.  “[1863]?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk also looked up, understanding the situation immediately when Kim Dokja turned to look at him, confusion evident in his dark eyes.

 

An entire conversation seemed to happen between Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja while they stared at each other.  

 

[1863] thought that Kim Dokja’s ability as a [Reader] might also be filling in some missing parts.    

 

Still, sometimes words had to be spoken out loud in order for it to be real .

 

“Kim Dokja.”  

 

Kim Dokja turned to [1863].  

 

“I’d like to… court you.”  He thought.  “Separately from Joonghyuk.”

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a gasp.  He looked back at Yoo Joonghyuk who nodded in agreement.

 

[1863] had to be honest.  “I may not be the only one of us who would want a separate relationship with you, as well.”

 

Kim Dokja looked quickly between the two of them.  “W-what are… How w-would… All o-of…”

 

“Exclusive.  Just you and just us.  No others.”  Yoo Joonghyuk clarified.

 

“It may not be all of us.”  

 

Although [1863] didn’t know if that was a lie or not — thinking back, it didn’t seem like any of the other counterparts were opposed to starting a relationship with Kim Dokja, no matter how angry some of them were the night before.

 

Kim Dokja looked like he was about to hyperventilate at the prospect.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk purred and [1863]’s own low rumble joined in.

 

After a long moment, Kim Dokja began to settle, his breathing returning to normal, a blush staining his cheeks.  

 

“I-I’m not opposed, it’s ju-just that I ha-haven’t…” Kim Dokja stuttered out.  He gulped.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Spit it out.”

 

Kim Dokja inhaled speaking in a rush.  “Ihaven’teverbeenwithanAlphabefore.”

 

Both Yoo Joonghyuk and [1863] paused.

 

…  

 

「What now?」

 

“W-well, before Yoo Joonghyuk anyway...”

 

[1863] was beginning to agree with Yoo Joonghyuk — maybe they should be with Kim Dokja all the time so he can spill more of his secrets.

 

“A-and, even before that… I haven’t been… relationship-wise…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s purr was starting to change, becoming more of a rolling growl with the sharp edge of possessiveness.  

 

And maybe [1863]’s purr was also changing, but he couldn’t say for sure since he was so lost in a growing reverent satisfaction that Kim Dokja might truly be completely theirs .

 

《Their one and only [Reader].》

 

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They took Kim Dokja downstairs to eat not long after that… revelation .

 

They first checked Yoo Mia’s room and found [1864] watching over her as she slept.  

 

[1863] thought that [1864] may have still been feeling slightly shaken and would probably stay until she woke up again.

 

When they reached the kitchen, Yoo Joonghyuk prepared their food.  [1863] sat and pulled Kim Dokja into his lap, the both of them reading a list of fanfiction titles and summaries with his chin resting on Kim Dokja’s shoulder.

 

[41] and [666] wandered in sometime later as they were eating.

 

When they were finishing their meal, [666] decided to speak.  “We need to get help for Mia.”

 

“Yes.”  Yoo Joonghyuk readily agreed.

 

[666] glanced at Kim Dokja.  “Who did you say your… therapist was?”

 

Kim Dokja bit his lip nervously.  “I didn’t.”

 

He started fidgeting with his fingers, so [1863] grabbed his hand gently to stop him.  Squeezing tightly, Kim Dokja continued speaking.  “It’s not really who it is that might be the problem… the problem is more with where she needs to go.”

 

His expression turned thoughtful.  “And how long she may have to stay there.”

 

[1863] was starting to feel a vague sense of anxiety.

 

[41] glared at Kim Dokja.  “What do you mean?”

 

Kim Dokja looked at each of them before saying.  “The Dark Fault.  She will need to go to the Dark Fault.”

 

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[1863] knew that there were very few beings still in existence who would know of the time before — before the Dark Fault was carved into their world, a literal tear in the fabric of their reality.

 

He had only heard stories in passing about how the Dark Fault came to be since he, and most of his acquaintances, were not old enough to have lived during the time that it formed.

 

Some stories had said that the Dark Fault was a punishment for their species — that their esper- and guide-gifted ancestors had committed a transgression against the universe so severe that their reality was torn open. 

 

Other stories had said that their world had been so “perfect” that other beings beyond their universe had become jealous of their near-immortality and god-like powers.  So, as a consequence of their jealousy, these other beings ripped open the Dark Fault to invade their world, its effects continuously spreading and influencing their reality.  

 

Whether it be their arrogance or pride as a species, this was the more accepted theory.  

 

This is because it is a well-known fact that the influence of the Dark Fault on their world resulted in the second evolution for their species — Alphas, Betas, and Omegas — a long term consequence and punishment for their species, reverting humans to become less controlled, more instinct-driven, their rational selves sometimes completely swallowed up by primal needs.   It also severely decreased the fertility of their species, where Alphas and Betas were very rarely able to successfully conceive.  Conversely, Omegas, which were the rarest for their species to have, were the most fertile and most successful in carrying their offspring to term.

 

Now, to most academics who extensively studied the human species, it wouldn’t have been particularly worrisome since their species was still especially long-lived.  And, if their time was spent in the Dark Fault itself, then average life spans were possibly extended even longer.

 

However, they were still a species prone to violence and self-destruction.  

 

Who knew when someone would craft a deadly virus that could wipe them out in a heartbeat?  

 

Or — if there were other beings out there with a vendetta against them — what if a world-ending scenario was brought to their doorstep that they couldn’t possibly fathom to clear?

 

Well, that last one would be a moot point if they were all dead anyway, but still their general infertility was a constant source of strife.

 

Children were the only hope they had for the continuation of their species.  

 

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Even though he recalled the few ERS cases that Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had worked on where children were trafficked for the purpose of finding a dormant Omega, children were typically very protected in their society.  Everyone knew that at such a young age, their bodies and minds were still very fragile, that it would be dangerous for any child to enter the Dark Fault, where time was more densely compressed, moving like a stronger, faster flowing river within its dimension, rather than the slowly flowing stream of their current dimension.

 

From their own collective experiences with traveling in the Dark Fault, a few years in this reality could mean hundreds or thousands of years in the Dark Fault, depending on how deeply one ventured into it.

 

[1863] knew that the deeper one traveled into that dimension, the stronger and faster the current became, and the burdens of time grew that much heavier, taking its toll on the body and mind.

 

So, it was completely understandable that [666] had growled at Kim Dokja an adamant “ No ” before storming off, likely to reign in his temper before another ‘incident’ — like what happened the night before — was repeated.

 

However, Kim Dokja remained undeterred from his plan.  In fact, he looked even more determined to see it through.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

 

[1863] nuzzled into the back of Kim Dokja’s neck and asked.  “Why the Dark Fault?  Why not just do it here?”

 

“Yoo Mia must learn [Story Control].  And she needs more time than she might have in this dimension.”

 

「‘Story control’?」

 

“And… my therapist — my friend will be there.  He’s the best.  We’ll take measures so that she can survive there safely.”

 

[1863] felt Kim Dokja swallow roughly.  “I went into the Dark Fault when I was 16, to receive help — to learn from him.”

 

A silence filled the kitchen.  

 

[41] was the first to recover.  “How… how long?”

 

Kim Dokja looked resigned.  “In this dimension…. Six years.”

 

[1863] held on to Kim Dokja tighter.  

 

“And I left the Dark Fault mostly because of my heat cycle.”

 

「Six years…」 

 

Within the Dark Fault dimension, six years could mean an eternity.

 

Kim Dokja attempted to reassure them.  “I’m fine.  And Yoo Mia likely won’t need to stay as long as I did.  Part of the reason my time there was so long was because Hoseong and I were still developing the [Story Control] technique together.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to come alive upon hearing that name.

 

“Yoo Hoseong?”

 

“Yes.”  

 

And, as if to further clarify, [41] asked.  “Master Yoo Hoseong, the ‘One Invincible Fist’?”

 

[1863] noted a blush start to creep across Kim Dokja’s cheeks.  “Ah, yes.  That Yoo Hoseong.”

 

[41] glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “When we were there, didn’t Teacher visit his territory pretty often?”

 

Kim Dokja thought for a moment, then his eyes widened slightly, like he had just realized something.  “Ah.  Do you mean Namgung Minyoung-ssi?  She visited often.”  Kim Dokja’s expression softened with fondness as if he were remembering something.  “She would always bring me the best dumplings.”

 

[41] made a choking sound.

 

“Anyway, I can contact Hoseong-ssi.  Yoo Mia will be safe with him, even in the Dark Fault.”  Kim Dokja said as if the plan was already decided.

 

And, maybe it was, since no one said anything further.

 

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However, it took a bit more time to convince the other counterparts who were adamantly against Yoo Mia entering the Dark Fault.  

 

When [41] had pointed out that [18], [48], and few other counterparts had returned to continue training in that dimension, it helped to convince them a little more of the merit behind Kim Dokja’s plan.

 

It was already late into the night when it was resolved.

 

Yoo Mia had woken up briefly — as Yoo Mia and not her [Story], Kim Dokja had assured them — and ate a small meal, before going back to sleep.  

 

Kim Dokja had told them it was natural for someone to be so exhausted after being immersed in their [Story] for so long.

 

Then, Kim Dokja also went to sleep shortly after.

 

And, although [1863] didn’t quite yet understand the full scope of Kim Dokja’s ability, he was starting to see the toll such an ability took on a person, especially when it is an ability in a realm much different from espers and guides.

 

He told himself he would go check on Kim Dokja and Yoo Mia after this was done.

 

【Get up.】

 

[1863] watched as [2] — who was bruised and bleeding from many small wounds — used his sword to leverage himself up off the ground, struggling a little to hold a fighting stance when he got to his feet.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stood across from him, sword raised and ready.

 

【Defend.】  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk rushed at [2], who was able to get his sword up to defend just in time.  However, Yoo Joonghyuk’s momentum forced him off balance, causing [2] to put his weight on an already damaged and weakened leg.  

 

Fighting like this was usually how they resolved most of their disagreements when words would not be sufficient.  It was how they survived with each other — and all of their conflicting personalities and varying Alpha statuses — for so long.

 

However, this situation was a little different from a mere disagreement.  

 

This was both a punishment and a lesson. 

 

[2] had severely transgressed by shamefully attacking Kim Dokja — by attacking their Omega .  

 

Usually [2] was given some leeway in consideration of his mental trauma caused by Anna Croft, but in this case, he had crossed too far over the line.

 

The only thing that really saved [2] from a much harsher punishment was that he understood how he had unforgivably wronged Kim Dokja, genuinely remorseful of his actions, and would accept this punishment without complaint.  

 

And it was apparent that [2]’s strength was already flagging.  

 

Very few of them could put up a lengthy fight against ‘Secretive Plotter’.

 

[1863] called out apathetically.  “Joonghyuk.  We should check on Dokja and Mia.”

 

[1864] agreed.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk paused mid-swing, the brutality instantly retracted as if it had never been intended.  He eased back and pointed the tip of his sword at [2].  

 

“You will apologize to Kim Dokja.”

 

“Yes.”  [2] responded without hesitation.

 

“Good.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk flicked the blood from his sword, spun on his heel, and walked out of N’Gai’s Forest.  [1863] and [1864] followed him out, while [666] and [41] helped to tend to [2] and his wounds.

 

When they returned to the house, they had expected to see [999] or [Zero] still in the living room, repairing and cleaning their swords.  [81] was also mysteriously gone from the kitchen.  None of them were where they were expected to be.

 

But, as they climbed the stairs to the upper floors, they could hear the faint sound of voices.

 

They exchanged glances, then hurried up the rest of the stairs.  

 

[999], [Zero], and [81] were found loitering in the hallway outside of Kim Dokja’s room, their eyes focused on what was going on beyond the doorway.  

 

A faint golden glow was seen shining from within, casting a soft light across the darkened hallway.  

 

They moved forward, only to stop when they caught a glimpse of what was going on inside of Kim Dokja’s room.

 

[1863] wouldn’t have been able to properly explain it even if he tried.  

 

But what he was seeing felt like something out of a dream.  

 

Endless starscapes were reflected on the walls, the ceiling, the floor.  

 

Kim Dokja and Yoo Mia sat in the middle of the bed, Yoo Mia propped up against Kim Dokja’s chest with his arms held loosely around her. 

 

Both of them were looking up at a point in the ceiling, sightless eyes watching — or reading — something only they could see in the far beyond.

 

Lines of what looked like text or characters, both familiar and unfamiliar, were scrolling across their skin in no particular pattern.  Sometimes a word or character would float off their skin and Yoo Mia would reach out for it, attempting to catch it, but then Kim Dokja would stop her with a gentle nudge, and they would watch as the word escaped to join the countless stars.

 

Other times, Yoo Mia would ask a question in a language that [1863] could not understand, then Kim Dokja would search for a different nebula in the starscape, pointing to it and answering her in a similar language.  

 

And, although [1863] could not understand the meaning behind the words, the tone and the power their voices carried while speaking shook something deep within the core of himself.  

 

He vaguely felt liquid trickling from his ears.

 

For how long they stood there watching, he couldn’t say.  But, eventually, Yoo Mia’s eyes started to droop, needing more rest, the text fading from her skin.  

 

Kim Dokja looked down at the sleeping Omega, brushing her hair back, before turning his gaze on them.  

 

Awareness slowly returned to his eyes, though the text still flickered beneath his skin, and the nebulas still danced throughout the room.  

 

He held out Yoo Mia to them, a wordless request.  For some reason, it made [1863] think that maybe he had forgotten how to speak their language for a moment.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped forward first, and the moment he did, the starscapes started to fade wherever he stepped — from the floor, from the walls, from the ceiling — almost as if darkness followed in his wake, cutting a swathe through the universe.

 

He took Yoo Mia from Kim Dokja, cradling her against his chest, and walked out to put her to bed in her room.

 

Kim Dokja watched with a gentle smile, his eyes glinting with a hint of longing that [1863] couldn’t quite understand.  It had him stepping forward to pull Kim Dokja into his arms and hold him close.  A rumble started in his chest, something he was getting used to happening when he was around Kim Dokja.  

 

Kim Dokja pressed into him, trying to get closer, his eyes already drifting shut.  

 

[1863] noticed that the room was getting darker as the text faded from Kim Dokja’s skin.

 

He looked toward the door, which he belatedly noticed was broken, where [1864], [999], [Zero], and [81] were still watching with mixed expressions of awe and caution.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk returned to the room, walking past them while throwing a question over his shoulder.  “Are you staying?”

 

[Zero] answered that he would watch Yoo Mia, but he asked that they leave the door open in case anything else happened.  

 

In response, [1864], [999], and [81] ‘reunified’ with Yoo Joonghyuk, deciding to stay.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk headed toward the bed as [1863] maneuvered Kim Dokja beneath the covers, his face still buried in [1863]’s chest.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk slipped in behind Kim Dokja, pressing against his back.

 

And, eventually, they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 12: The Homemade Dumplings

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Kim Dokja awoke in an empty space.  It was dyed in color and shadow that reminded him of twilight.  He drifted, no solid ground above or beneath him to indicate what was up and what was down, no gravity pulling him in any particular direction.

 

He felt as if he both knew and didn’t know this place, like he’d seen it once before in the distant past or distant future, a type of deja vu easily erased by the laws of reality.

 

Even though he didn’t have a physical body, he felt a pressure squeezing him from all directions.  

 

When he looked to his left, he could just see a creeping blanket of white, multifaceted and multi-colored, like reflecting light off of the surface of an opal, yet airy, like a cold mist.  

 

When he looked to his right, he could see the edge of a hungry darkness that was so deep it was like a void, devouring and erasing every inch of space it gained.

 

Kim Dokja continued to watch the approaching mist and void without feeling any sense of urgency or warning or alarm.  He only felt the ever present pressure, growing denser and denser around him, but not uncomfortably so.  

 

As both waves ate up the distance between them, the closer they were, the faster they seemed to move, as if they were lines of soldiers that spotted their enemy across the battlefield.  

 

Then, when the mist and darkness crashed into him, it felt like being pushed off balance, the whole world tilting ever farther in a single direction. 

 

And, because there was no sense of direction, no point of reference he could use to tell the difference, it felt like he was falling.

 

《He just had no idea what he was falling into.》

 

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Kim Dokja felt warm.  Warmer than usual.

 

In his sleepy haze, he could tell there was someone against his back.  But his face was also buried in muscle that didn’t feel flat, but seemed… rounder in shape.

 

The faint clicking of keys and the soft puff of breath on the back of his neck trickled into his awareness.

 

Kim Dokja slowly opened his eyes.  Hints of light shined in between the curtains, and he could just make out the shape of a thigh in front of his nose.  

 

He looked up to see [1863] propped up against the headboard, typing away on his tablet.  

 

For a moment, Kim Dokja just took in the sight.  

 

This Alpha… Yoo Joonghyuk… possibly the others… they wanted to… court him .

 

「Could he do something like that?  Was that even possible?」

 

He thought.  

 

Then came to realize that it wasn’t any of these questions that really made him pause.

 

No, the question that made him pull up short was —

 

「Was he enough ?」

 

The scary part, the part he was most afraid of, was if they found him… lacking .  

 

Opening himself up like this not only meant accepting the good things about himself, it would also mean accepting the bad things.  

 

「Was he ready for something like that?」

 

Kim Dokja wasn’t sure.  It was all too new and shiny, reflecting a light that could blind him to any pitfalls that he wouldn’t know about until it was too late.

 

However.

 

One thing he was sure about was that he had to try . 

 

He was willing to try something like they were suggesting.  

 

To give himself a chance.  

 

《Remind himself that he is deserving .》

 

“What are you staring at?”  Whispered softly, tenderly, a hint of a smile at the corner of [1863]’s mouth.

 

Kim Dokja smiled sleepily back.  “Nothing.”

 

The ringing of a phone could be heard in the silence.  Kim Dokja recognized it as his ringtone and tried to extract himself from between the two Alphas.  

 

But as he moved, arms banded around him tighter, keeping him anchored in place.

 

“Leave it.”  Yoo Joonghyuk said, his voice rough from sleep.

 

Kim Dokja reached back, threading his fingers through Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair, then murmured.  “What if it’s Sooyoung-ssi?  She did say we would need to visit New City soon.”

 

“Tch.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk still didn’t release him.  Thankfully, [1863] was free, and he stood from the bed to grab the ringing phone from where it was plugged in on the dresser.  

 

[1863]’s expression seemed to tighten when he got a look at the caller ID, and he returned a bit hesitantly to the bed.

 

Kim Dokja didn’t have to wonder why that was when he saw the caller ID himself.  

 

「Now, how did Yoo Hoseong know to call him?」

 

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to request help from him yet.  

 

Still, it was rather convenient, wasn’t it?

 

Kim Dokja cleared his throat and answered the phone.  “Hoseong-ah.  Did you receive a message, by chance?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk made a quiet, strangled noise behind him.

 

“The [Stories] have been… noisier than usual this morning.”  Was his response.

 

A vague image of him conversing with Yoo Mia’s [Story] the night before flitted through Kim Dokja’s mind.  He must have been rousing [Stories] in far away places during their conversation — the disturbance momentous enough that Yoo Hoseong felt it in the Dark Fault.

 

“I’m sorry.”  

 

Yoo Hoseong only grunted in response.

 

“It was good that you called.  I have a request— a favor to ask of you.”

 

“Speak straight.  You always talk in circles.”

 

Kim Dokja turned to look Yoo Joonghyuk in the eye.  “I have someone who needs your help.  A student, maybe.”

 

He added softly, as he watched Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes shake with an unknown emotion.  “A child in dire need to learn [Story Control].”  

 

Yoo Hoseong hummed thoughtfully.  “Why don’t you just teach her?”

 

「Huh.」  

 

“You know who I’m talking about?”

 

Yoo Hoseong made a non-committal noise.

 

“Then you know how close she is.  She needs more time than she has here.  She needs to learn in the Dark Fault.”  

 

Kim Dokja swallowed.  “And you know I can’t stay long there.  Not yet.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at him sharply, a wordless admonishment, saying that he should have told them it would be dangerous for Kim Dokja if he returned to the Dark Fault.

 

Kim Dokja off-handedly wondered when they started having conversations by just looking at each other.

 

“Tch.  If you hadn’t wandered so far into the abyss—“

 

“Hoseong-ah.”

 

Yoo Hoseong sighed.  “All right.  I’ll be there in the next few days.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You will still stop by, though.  When we are training.  I am not an Omega .”

 

“Yes.”  Kim Dokja added thoughtfully.  “I’ll probably be in New City for maybe a week sometime soon.  I’ll stop by after that, on our way back to First City.”

 

“Yes.  I’ll let Kyrgios and Minyoung know.”

 

Kim Dokja choked.  “Hoseong—“

 

Yoo Hoseong had already hung up.  

 

Kim Dokja stared at the phone dumbly for a moment.  

 

He hadn’t seen his Master, Kyrgios Rodgraim, since his time in the Dark Fault.  

 

He remembered how he had finally convinced his Master to teach him the Paradox Baekchung techniques.  

 

And, after Kim Dokja had learned a few techniques, one day he had unknowingly ventured further into the Dark Fault than he had meant to.  

 

Then, after he returned to Hoseong’s territory, he left the Dark Fault entirely.  

 

He hadn’t seen or heard from his Master since then.

 

“Ack!”

 

Kim Dokja was abruptly pulled down and rolled beneath Yoo Joonghyuk, who trapped him with his weight and caged him in with his arms.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had opened his mouth, just about to ask whatever question he had been holding at the tip of his tongue, when [Zero] spoke from the doorway.

 

“Mia is awake.  Breakfast is downstairs.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk snapped his mouth shut and glared at Kim Dokja.

 

Kim Dokja laughed, crawling out from under him, making his escape.  

 

[1863] pulled Kim Dokja up, and, with an arm around his waist, they followed [Zero] down to the kitchen, where [1864], [999], and [81] were already eating.

 

Yoo Mia sat quietly at the table.  

 

It was the first time Kim Dokja saw her without the influence of her [Story].  Physically, she looked better than the first night he met her.  

 

However, her expression looked uncertain and somewhat fragile.  

 

Kim Dokja approached her first, lighlty tapping the table in front of her to get her attention.  

 

When she looked up at him, he spoke.  “I’m Kim Dokja.”

 

Her expression became momentarily confused before she answered.  “Strange name.”

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t help but laugh.  She was definitely just like her brother.

 

“I’ve heard that a lot.”

 

“Why are you here?”  She sniffed curtly.  “You smell like Oppa.”

 

“I’m here to help you.  I’m an Omega, too.”

 

Yoo Mia’s expression cracked a little before she glared at him.  “Why would I ask you for help?  I don’t need it, anyway.”

 

“Mia.”  [1864] scolded.

 

Kim Dokja ignored her attitude.  “I can help you learn about being an Omega.  Teach you a thing or two about guiding.”

 

Yoo Mia’s eyes started shaking.

 

“It also won’t be just me teaching you.  My friend, Yoo Hoseong, will help.”

 

There was a moment where he thought he had gotten through, but Yoo Mia wasn’t ready to bend just yet.

 

“I don’t need any help! Especially yours !”  

 

She jumped out of her seat and stormed out of the kitchen. 

 

Kim Dokja only sighed and followed her with his eyes before he looked at the remaining occupants.

 

“Can I borrow your kitchen?”

 

There was silence before [81] nodded his head, curiosity in his gaze.

 

Kim Dokja started preparing ingredients, taking out the steaming baskets he found in a bottom cabinet.  And, as he worked, he spoke.  He summarized his conversation with Yoo Hoseong to those that weren’t there, telling them that Yoo Hoseong will stop by to pick-up Yoo Mia.  He explained how Yoo Mia may be in Dark Fault for a few months, half a year at most, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t visit her while she was training.

 

Sometime during his explanation, [999] and [81] had stood up to join him in his work, filling, then forming and steaming.  

 

By the end of it, eight baskets were taken off of the stove.  

 

The aroma of not-quite ‘Murim Dumplings’ filled the space as he opened the first basket.

 

Of course Kim Dokja knew it wouldn’t be real Murim Dumplings — he could never get the fire quite right — but these dumplings would have been different from that anyway.  

 

While he had been mixing the filling, he had been sneaking in [Words] of love, of reassurance, of acceptance, collected from the [Fragments] that filled this entire house, collected from its inhabitants whenever they thought about Yoo Mia.

 

Because it wasn't only Yoo Mia's [Story] that needed the reminder, needed the comfort.

 

Kim Dokja thanked [81] and [999] for their help.  He thanked them for the use of their kitchen, as he arranged a few dumplings on a plate.  

 

He was about to leave, when Yoo Joonghyuk and [Zero] stood up, preparing to follow him.  

 

But he shook his head, stepping into Yoo Joonghyuk and brushing his lips lightly against the Alpha’s cheek.  “Let me deal with this.  Please?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him for a moment before begrudgingly acquiescing.  “Come find me after.”

 

“Tsk.  So greedy.”  Kim Dokja laughed breathily.  

 

His hand was caught by [1863], who lightly pressed his lips against Kim Dokja’s fingers.  

 

Kim Dokja squeezed back gently before he turned and left to find Yoo Mia.

 

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Kim Dokja followed the whispers of a [Story].  Instead of going up to her room, where he had expected she had gone to, he followed it out into the forest that stretched for miles behind the house.

 

When he crossed the tree line, it felt like he had been transported to another world.  

 

The trees here were not densely packed, but they were tall with trunks that were so wide he wouldn’t have been able to stretch his arms around it.  The sunlight that had been glaring above him turned into shafts of light, softly brightening the canopy of above and the forest floor below.  Sounds became quieter, more muted, instead of harsh and grating.  

 

He had been wandering, weaving between the large tree trunks, following the trail of a [Story], when he started to notice the whisper of someone trailing behind him, following his path.  It wasn’t that he heard or saw anything, it was more like a feeling of being pursued, of being hunted , the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

 

Although, it didn’t feel malicious or like he was in danger, so he continued on until he found the edge of a pond.  It wasn’t quite big enough to be called a lake, but it was also much bigger than a puddle.

 

Yoo Mia was sitting at its edge, her back to him, while she stared out at the tree line on the other side of the placid surface.  What she was looking at, or looking for, Kim Dokja didn’t know.  But he approached her anyway, dragging his feet deliberately, giving her the chance to run away again if she wanted to.

 

But she didn’t run — physically, anyway.

 

He dropped down beside her, grabbing a dumpling for himself before silently offering her the plate.  

 

It may have been the smell wafting under her nose, or maybe it was something else, but she slowly reached out for one.  

 

Yoo Mia held it for a moment, staring at the dumpling as if she were having second thoughts, and he wondered if she remembered even a little bit of their conversation from the night before.  

 

If she remembered how it felt to see the [Stories] so clearly, understanding the [Words] and taking them in.  

 

Kim Dokja wondered if she could still feel the remnants of his ability, guiding her way, and if she felt a familiar sensation while holding the dumpling.  

 

Then, she savagely took a bite and chewed it quickly, determined not to like the dumpling at all.  But then her movements gradually grew slower, until tears rolled down her cheeks, as she took another bite.  

 

And when she finished that dumpling, she sniffled wetly and took another.

 

And another.

 

And another.

 

Eventually, her tears began to slow and she inhaled deeply, as if re-fortifying herself.

 

Kim Dokja set the plate down, a few dumplings still left on its surface, and spoke quietly.

 

“You will be going to the Dark Fault to learn a technique called [Story Control].  Your teacher will be here in a few days to pick you up.”

 

Yoo Mia glared at him.  “And I don’t get a say in this?”

 

He looked at her thoughtfully.  “Will you admit you need help?”

 

“No.”  Said quickly, decisively.

 

“Then, no.  You don’t get a say.”

 

She scoffed at him.  “Then I won’t go.  And if you make me, I will be the worst student ever.”

 

Kim Dokja just shrugged.  “That is your choice.  But you will never become stronger that way.”

 

Yoo Mia ground her jaw, looking like she would rather eat rocks then say anything more to him.  But still she asked.

 

“How do you know?  How do you know it will make me stronger?”

 

He thought for a moment before answering.  “You’re right, I don’t know if it will make you stronger.”

 

“Hah!”

 

“But what do you think strength is?”

 

It made her pause, her expression going slack, her mouth slightly open.

 

“I-it… that…”

 

Yoo Mia bit her lip and looked out across the water, thinking frantically.  Then, she looked back at him.  “O-of course, it’s the power to defeat your enemies.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“A-and, to keep going even if you get tired.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“And… and… and to keep going even when you get scared.  O-or when something is blocking your way, you can just cut it in half with one strike.”

 

「...」

 

She was starting to sound very similar to someone else he knew.

 

Kim Dokja just nodded.  “Yes, those all sound like pretty reasonable examples of strength.  But what happens after?  After you defeat your enemies?  After you get past the obstacle? What was all that strength for?”

 

“W-well, it’s…”  She whispered, trailing off at the end.

 

There was a glint of uncertainty in her eyes.  “So, you can finally go home.  To see the people you love… the people you wanted to protect.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully.  “Is that all?”

 

“What do you mean ‘is that all’?  What else is there?”

 

He took a deep breath, knowing this might hurt both of them.  

 

But there were just some things that needed to be said directly.  

 

“After the battle is won, when you crawl home bruised and battered and bleeding, what about yourself?”

 

She stared at him with her red-rimmed eyes, while he remembered the many days he spent barely making it home after being beaten by his classmates.

 

“What about having the strength to save yourself ?”

 

Her eyes started shaking, while he recalled the many nights he spent alone, tending to his wounds the best he could, listening to the media talk about his mother’s book, talk about the lie he could never get away from.

 

Back then, he didn't have the strength.  He had walked through life continuously drowning, barely keeping his head above the water.

 

“Do you want to know how I gauge strength?”

 

She shook her head, denying everything.  Yet she didn’t stop him from speaking.

 

“When, at the end of it all, you can stand to look at yourself and ask this question.”

 

“Have you protected all that you were supposed to protect?”

 

“Even yourself?”

 

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Yoo Mia didn’t speak to him for a long while after.

 

He understood.  It took a lot of courage to ask for help, to borrow the strength of another until you were strong enough on your own.  

 

It took an even greater courage to ask for help when you thought yourself unworthy of being saved.

 

When the sun was just starting to disappear behind the top of the trees in the distance, she finally spoke.

 

“I’ll do it.”  She glared at him.  “I’ll do your stupid story training, or whatever.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled kindly.  “About being an Omega? A guide?”

 

Yoo Mia looked away quickly.  “I-I’ll… think about it…”

 

Yes, she would.  Once she started learning to listen to her [Story], it would become difficult to ignore everything else.

 

Footsteps were heard coming from behind them, making Yoo Mia jump. 

 

“Dinner is ready.”  [999] said as he drew nearer.

 

Yoo Mia looked down at the plate of cold dumplings.  “Oppa, are there more dumplings?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” Then, she stood, and started heading back toward the house.

 

Kim Dokja didn’t move to follow.  

 

[999] met his gaze, a silent question.

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  “I’ll sit here a little longer.”

 

[999] glanced at the tree line behind them for a moment before nodding.  “Don’t stay too long.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed noncommittally.

 

Then he waited patiently, staring out, watching until the sun could no longer be seen above the trees.

 

It didn’t take long for him to hear another set of footsteps approaching, and he didn’t have to turn to look who it was.

 

The edges of the [Story] he was hearing made it loud and clear.

 

Also.

 

“I… apologize.”

 

Kim Dokja rolled his head back, looking up at [2].  He noted the bandages peeking out from beneath his shirt, the purplish yellow bruises blooming across various places of his body, his split lip that was just starting to scab over.  

 

Kim Dokja wondered what had happened.  He patted the spot next to him.  “Sit.”

 

“I’m not a dog.”

 

“I didn’t say you were.  Sit.”

 

Although begrudgingly, [2] sat on the ground beside him.

 

“What are you apologizing for?”

 

[2] ground his teeth, jaw working, before answering.  “For… attacking you.”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  “And?”

 

[2] looked confused for a moment.  “...And for choking you.”

 

“What else?”

 

“What else… is there?”

 

Kim Dokja sighed and looked at [2], giving him a hard stare.  “You will never lay your hands on me like that again.  Understood?”

 

A bit taken aback, [2] nodded.  

 

“Use your words.”

 

“Yes.” Ground-out.

 

Kim Dokja thought before he said.  “I don’t know what happened to you, but I am not Anna Croft.”

 

“I know that.”  [2] practically growled at him.

 

“Good.  You understand that much, at least.”  Kim Dokja wet his lips.  “So, how will you earn my forgiveness?”

 

“I already apologized.”

 

Kim Dokja's gaze became incredulous.  “Yeah, so you said a bunch of words.  Doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

 

[2]’s hands were clenched into fists.  “What… more do I need to do… for your forgiveness?”

 

It looked like it pained [2] greatly to ask that question.  

 

But maybe it was because of a different reason, other than his pride.

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully, then shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

 

[2]’s expression turned thunderous.  He was about to say something — maybe it was something scathing, Kim Dokja didn’t know — when Kim Dokja swiped a cold dumpling and stuffed it in [2]’s open mouth.

 

Then, Kim Dokja stood, dusting off his hands and said.  “How about you come find me when you figure it out.”

 

Then he turned and walked away.

Chapter 13: The Bad Cop (*)

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of sexual activities (involving more than two people).

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[41] watched as Kim Dokja approached, leaving [2] behind, still sitting on the ground with a dumpling in his mouth, likely restraining himself with everything he had.

 

He hadn’t expected that Kim Dokja would forgive easily, but he didn’t think it would end up like this, either.

 

[2] continued sitting there, frozen.

 

“Are you sure you didn’t break him?”

 

Kim Dokja looked back once, a contemplative expression on his face.  “If he was ever broken, it wasn’t because of me.”

 

They both turned, heading back towards the house.  Dinner was likely almost over for everyone else.

 

[41] secretly hoped there were still some dumplings left.

 

“Will you eventually forgive him?”  [41] asked curiously. 

 

He wondered if Kim Dokja held grudges, and, if he did, how long it would take to get back into his good graces.  Of course he should ask… you know… just in case.

 

[41] knew himself well enough to know that he was always the ‘bad cop’ to Yoo Joonghyuk’s ‘good cop’ in most cases, and sometimes he couldn’t help questioning a ‘good thing’.

 

He also knew he had a tendency to come off as caustic, even when he didn’t really mean it to be that way.

 

Kim Dokja pursed his lips for a moment, thinking.  “I… I don't think it's… forgiveness that he wants.”

 

And, even if they couldn’t see him directly, Kim Dokja looked back to where [2] would likely still be.  

 

Although, [41] thought, Kim Dokja didn’t need to see him physically to know.  Maybe, even from this distance, Kim Dokja could still [Read] the fringes of [2]’s [Story].  

 

“Whatever happened between him and Anna Croft… It seems more like he’s seeking punishment, rather than forgiveness.”

 

[41] wasn’t sure how to respond.  He knew that whatever happened between [2] and Anna Croft had affected [2] deeply — and it scarred him so severely that [2] kept it thoroughly buried, so much so that it wasn’t easily discernible when they reunified with Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

[41] wasn’t even sure that Yoo Joonghyuk understood to what extent [2]’s trauma affected him.

 

「Would Kim Dokja be the one to figure it out?」  

 

「Would he be able to help [2]?  Or would it be causing more harm?」

 

[41] would wait and see.

 

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Over the next few days, they fell into some sort of routine.  

 

Since Yoo Mia would be missing from their presence for longer than they’ve ever been away from her before, they had agreed to bow down to her requests until she had to leave.

 

And, no matter how hard [41] had tried, he couldn’t seem to get Kim Dokja’s attention for himself.  

 

He had found Kim Dokja in the kitchen with [81], cooking a meat-filled omelet because Yoo Mia said she didn’t want anything with vegetables.  

 

Then, he had found Kim Dokja in the basement with [999], who was showing him the types of training equipment they had collected over the years.

 

[1864] had also stolen a moment with Kim Dokja, showing him his VR gaming rig setup.  Surprisingly, Yoo Mia had decided to join them in playing a cooperative first-person shooter.  

 

Although, from what [41] had gleaned, most of it was Yoo Mia and [1864] taking out the opposing team while Kim Dokja wandered around the edges of the map trying to see if he could “break the game”.

 

Both Yoo Joonghyuk and [1863] would be greedy for Kim Dokja’s attention during the nights, since Yoo Joonghyuk would be off at ERS and [1863] would be diligently working on his next manuscript during the days.

 

Once, [41] did find Kim Dokja alone, however he was on the phone, scolding someone about not “ hacking the media websites just because they said something bad about their unreleased game ”.  

 

Then, not long after that conversation ended, his phone rang again, to which he had answered with a resigned-sounding “ Mother ”.

 

[41] had graciously left Kim Dokja alone for that phone call.  

 

A few times [41] had noticed that [2] was trying to find Kim Dokja, as well.  However, before [2] even spotted Kim Dokja, his steps would drag, almost hesitant, before he turned around and went the other way.  

 

[41] couldn’t figure out why [2] kept running away, but one of the times he had almost crashed into [2] coming around a blind corner with a small box clutched in his hands.  [41] hadn’t had a chance to ask him anything since [2] had just looked at him with wide eyes before promptly hurrying past him.

 

However, it did make [41] wonder what was inside that box.  

 

「Was it a courting gift?」  

 

Maybe he should also look for a courting gift to present to Kim Dokja.

 

But what did Kim Dokja want?  What did he like?

 

Then, [41] remembered the white coat that Kim Dokja always wore when going out, and it gave him an idea.

 

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It was the first time [41] had met the master of his Teacher, the ‘One Invincible Fist’, Yoo Hoseong.  

 

To be honest, he didn’t think that Yoo Hoseong would look to be around Yoo Mia’s age.  

 

But that was the reality of being born in this dimension, then moving to live within the dimension of the Dark Fault.  Just because time moved faster in that dimension, it didn’t mean that the physical processes of the body born in this dimension would also change.

 

And that was why Yoo Mia would need to train there — what Kim Dokja meant by saying she needed “more time” while trying to learn the technique known as [Story Control].  

 

Still, [41] would make time to visit her as often as he could.

 

Yoo Mia was saying her farewells to [Zero] and [1864], likely being told that she should contact [18] or [48] if she needed anything while they weren’t there.  

 

Yoo Hoseong had stared at her for a long moment before speaking to Kim Dokja.  

 

“It will be difficult, but it is possible.”

 

Kim Dokja sighed in relief.  “I’m glad.  I thought that if you could teach that technique to Minyoung-ssi and Master Kyrgios, then teaching it to Mia would be possible, as well.”

 

Yoo Hoseong’s expression turned disgruntled.  “This and that are different.  My disciples were already transcendent espers seeking to expand their knowledge of the world.”  He looked at Yoo Mia.  “This one will be… stubborn.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled softly.  “Her [Story] is just as stubborn.”

 

Yoo Hoseong hummed and nodded at that.

 

[41] felt like he was transported to another world, hearing them talk about his Master and Kyrgios Rodgraim, the ‘Paradox Baekchung’, so casually.

 

He shook himself out of his stupor and asked.  “How long will she need to stay there?”

 

Yoo Hoseong watched Yoo Mia thoughtfully.  “Depends.”

 

[41] was getting a sense of deja vu.  “Depends on what?”

 

“Yoo Mia.”

 

「Why should he even bother asking anything at all?」

 

[41] just looked at Kim Dokja, who, he noted, was trying really hard to keep a straight face.

 

Yoo Hoseong asked.  “Do you have a [Story] ready?”

 

Kim Dokja nodded, and as Yoo Mia, [Zero], and [1864] walked towards them, [41] felt an invisible current brush past.

 

He found he was starting to become more aware of these strange occurrences the longer he was around Kim Dokja.

 

“What is that for?”  He asked quietly.

 

“So she can travel into the Dark Fault safely, until she can get used to the… atmosphere there.”  Kim Dokja murmured.

 

He noticed that Kim Dokja started to sag, so [41] wrapped an arm around his waist, tucking him in close, so he could lean on him for support.  The movement was so natural, how Kim Dokja neatly melted into him, and [41] wondered how — or even when — they interlocked together so easily.

 

Yoo Hoseong’s gaze turned sharp as he glanced between the two of them.  

 

“I’m ready.”  Yoo Mia announced.  

 

Although she sounded confident and sure, [41] didn’t miss the way her hands clenched around her bag, or how she determinedly looked straight ahead, like she was fighting not to look back.

 

Yoo Hoseong gruffly ordered her to “ put those things in the car ”, as he continued to look at them, gaze shifting between [41] and [Zero] and [1864].

 

When Yoo Hoseong turned to leave, he spoke to Kim Dokja.  “Bring them with you when you visit.”

 

Kim Dokja sighed out a resigned “ Yes ” in response.

 

[41] watched Yoo Hoseong walk towards the vehicle he used to drive here, and his eyes slightly widened in surprise as he recognized the car.  

 

It was the new X-grade Ferrarghini, invented by the ‘Mass Production Maker’ — a top of the line car that could function in this dimension and in the Dark Fault — marketed as a limited edition with only a sparse number that had been produced.

 

It reminded [41] that he had a commission to pick up from the Mass Production Maker, as well.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

The identity of the ‘Mass Production Maker’ was unknown.  Not even their contacts at ERS were able to track them down.  

 

However, what was known was that the ‘Mass Production Maker’ made a name for themself by dabbling in inter-dimensional research and technology, and had been around long enough to develop such technology successfully.  

 

The modernized technology and electronics in this dimension didn’t function properly within the Dark Fault, and very little was known as to why that was.  

 

Then, one day, the Mass Production Maker made themself known to the world by introducing technology that somehow operated in the Dark Fault.  Because no one could reverse-engineer such technology, the exclusivity and demand for products made by the Mass Production Maker had skyrocketed exponentially.

 

Needless to say, not only did the Mass Production Maker become a well-known household name — since they had eventually branched off into making other common, everyday products — but they also became obscenely wealthy.

 

Wealthy enough and famous enough that they sometimes took requests by commission, if the prospective commission was interesting. 

 

[41] had made such a request.  Although he did question his decision after making the request.  

 

At the start, [41] had visited the Mass Production Maker’s flagship store in First City.  He had only been to this location once before, when they had decided to gift Yoo Mia her first desktop computer.  

 

Walking into the store reminded him of a minimalist’s dream, made up of shades of black and white, obsidian display shelves refracting muted lighting against white walls.  

 

Of course, the products displayed on the shelves looked to be ordinary, household products, like things that would be used in the kitchen or the living room or for everyday living.  

 

Because once the Mass Production Maker made a name for themself, they could practically sell anything they wanted.

 

However, [41] was not interested in these products, nor was he shopping for something so simple.   

 

He walked up to the service counter where a clerk stood.  The clerk looked to be about Lee Jihye’s age, his hair bleached bright white, and he was wearing what looked like a high school uniform.  

 

Maybe this was a part-time job for him?

 

[41] glanced at his name tag, reading “Kim Namwoon”, before he spoke.  “I’d like to request a product for a special commission.”

 

Kim Namwoon looked up from his phone, studying [41] with a critical eye, before looking back down.  “We don’t take those here.”

 

[41] clenched his jaw.  “Then where do you take them?”

 

“At our other location.”

 

For a moment, [41] thought he should stop asking questions and start finding other… means and methods of getting the answers he needed.

 

He clenched his fists.  “Where is this other location?”

 

Kim Namwoon sighed, sounding both annoyed and reluctant.  He put down his phone and opened a drawer behind the counter, pulling out a black card that didn’t look like any business card that [41] had ever seen before.

 

Kim Namwoon slid the card over the counter to him before going back to scrolling on his phone.  

 

[41] picked up the card, noticing it was made of what seemed to be thick card stock, with the stylized logo of “MPM” on the front.  However, the back of the card was blank.

 

He looked up at Kim Namwoon, ready to demand what the hell this was, when Kim Namwoon spoke.  “Boss-man will be expecting you already.  You better get going.”

 

Then, as if the secret password was spoken, the back of the card lit up, a pixelated map appearing on its surface, seeming to direct him where he needed to go.

 

When [41] turned to leave, he heard Kim Namwoon mumble, “Such a lame summoning phrase.  I would have thought of something way cooler.”

 

[41] had no idea what he was talking about, and he put it out of his mind as he left the store.  

 

He followed the map indicated on the card, but he quickly noticed that he was heading in a direction towards a less populated area of the city, where industrial warehouses were basically stacked next to each other with narrow alleyways between them.

 

He stopped in front of such an alleyway and wondered if this was really the right place.  

 

Was he walking into a trap where he would be drugged and captured then sold for parts?

 

Not that he would let them get that far.  It was more likely he’d have to call in a clean-up crew when it was all said and done.

 

There was a single door in the alleyway.  When [41] tried the door handle, he found it easily opened under his touch, only hearing the soft shucking noise of the latch re-engaging when the door closed behind him.

 

The room he walked into was small and plain, with not much furniture except for a few side tables and seating, painted over with a beige color palette.  It seemed to be a side room, and the door he saw on the opposite wall probably opened into the warehouse area.

 

Before [41] stepped any further into the room, a small orb-shaped bot attached to a swivel arm connected to the ceiling directed its camera lens toward him and an androgynous voice echoed from hidden speakers.

 

“State your business.”

 

[41] cleared his throat.  “I’d like to request a special commission.”

 

The lens swiveled in its socket like it was computing the verbal message.  “What’s the request?”

 

“A long coat — white in color — with as much storage as it can have.”

 

If a bot without a face could make an incredulous expression, it probably would have.  “Do you mean a coat with a lot of pockets?  This isn’t a tailor’s shop, you know.”

 

[41] looked into the lens of the bot, imagining someone on the other side, and prodded derisively.  “I thought you would have more imagination than that.”

 

“Pah!”

 

[41] hummed thoughtfully.  “I was thinking it would be like… a coat with pockets.  Except the pockets aren’t really pockets, but instead… a pocket dimension…”

 

The bot seemed to freeze in its movements.  “…a pocket that isn’t a pocket…”

 

The light within the lens seemed to grow dimmer, as if the person behind had their attention elsewhere, before it refocused on [41]’s face.  “I could… make something like that.  But be warned, it would likely be a functioning prototype since it is a special request.  No way to test it yet to work out the bugs.  You’d likely have to come back frequently if there are any issues.”

 

[41] thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to come back to get any “bugs” fixed, and he knew that it was risky to request such a commission, but the Mass Production Maker was an expert in their field and the results may be worth the risk.

 

He nodded, agreeing that it would be something new and untried.

 

After a pause, the voice spoke.  “Give me a week.  We’ll talk about the price after it’s finished.”

 

And then [41] was dismissed.

 

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After [41] had made his request, it really had been a week later that he received a message from an unknown number that the commission was ready and he could pick it up at the same place he made the request.

 

A few days after Yoo Mia had left them, he returned to the same alleyway, however his experience this time was much different than from before.

 

When he walked into the small waiting room, he wasn’t alone.  An Alpha guide — wearing sunglasses, with a build on the taller, bulkier side — was sitting in one of the chairs.  He had graying hair, almost like he was imitating the appearance of a grandfather or older uncle, holding a plain black box in his lap.

 

[41] approached the Alpha cautiously, unsure of what he was feeling from the aura that seemed to emanate from him.

 

The Alpha guide looked at him wearing a friendly smile and spoke.  “It was a success.  Nearly perfect for the first of its kind.”  

 

[41] nodded slowly.  “As expected.”

 

The Alpha swiped his hand over the lid of the box, almost lovingly, before turning a sharp gaze on [41].  “Is it for you?”

 

[41] shook his head.  “An Omega.”

 

The Alpha’s expression became softer.  “A courting gift, then?  I hope you understand how… unique this gift is.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to know who the lucky Omega is…?”

 

[41] thought that it wouldn’t hurt to share this information, especially because it was an Omega he intended to court to become his mate, however he wouldn’t share this information with some stranger he didn’t even know.

 

He cocked his head.  “Who are you to be asking this?”

 

He couldn’t tell if the other Alpha was offended or delighted by the question, as he smiled slyly and said.  “I thought the name on the card would be obvious.”

 

「No.  Was this really…?」

 

[41] studied the Alpha guide with a sharper eye than before, thinking that there was something obvious that he might have missed, but the other Alpha seemed rather ordinary, like any person [41] could pass on the street.  

 

“How can I know that for sure?”  He asked, suspicious and doubtful.

 

In response, the Alpha opened the lid of the box, revealing a white coat neatly folded inside.  The Alpha pulled it out with care, almost like unraveling a delicate ribbon, as he began explaining to [41] the various features and functions the coat had.  

 

How the coat would fit to its wearer, providing some defense, and how the pockets sewn on the outside of the coat were normal everyday pockets for storing smaller items for easier access.  

 

However, it was the inside lining of the coat that was talked about with such detail, carrying a hint of pride and satisfaction, that [41] couldn’t deny that this Alpha was indeed the ‘Mass Production Maker’.

 

He listened intently as the Mass Production Maker explained that the inside lining carried a near-infinite amount of storage space, kept organized within the pocket dimension by unknown laws and physics — theoretical jargon that [41] had a difficult time keeping track of.  

 

The Mass Production Maker also warned that the “ space isn’t very wide so it should be used cautiously .”

 

At the end of it, the Mass Production Maker paused before asking again who the coat was for.

 

“He is… Kim Dokja.”

 

The Mass Production Maker raised his eyebrows, seeming like he recognized the name.  And, to [41]’s shock, as he started to fold the coat back into the box, he said.  “No commission fee for this one.  Instead, since it is a prototype, I’d like your Omega to test it out and give me feedback.  Any improvements or issues that need to be fixed.”  

 

「No commission fee?」

 

《Just who is Kim Dokja?》

 

As he closed the box lid, the Mass Production Maker looked at the box thoughtfully.  “I’m thinking of producing more, putting it on the market.  Maybe I’ll call it ‘Infinite Space Coat’ or something…”

 

He tapped the lid with his finger.  “This is version 1.0, of course.”

 

And, as he handed 41 the box, he added slyly.  “Any subsequent versions you’ll need to pay for.  Of course, we could probably work out an advertisement deal, if you were interested.”

 

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[41] hadn’t immediately presented the gift to Kim Dokja.  He had kept it in his room, still unsure if it would be received well.  

 

But, he eventually convinced himself he wouldn’t know until he tried.  

 

He had remembered how [1863] had asked Kim Dokja to help him read over his current working manuscript, so it was likely that [41] would find Kim Dokja in [1863]’s library.  

 

He hadn’t thought anything of it when he found that the door was closed, but not locked, since [1863] liked to keep his space sealed off most of the time when he was trying to focus.

 

And [41] was concentrating so intently on preparing for the worst — because what if Kim Dokja didn’t like the coat at all? — that he hadn’t noticed the small noises coming from the low-lit corner nook until he turned the corner and saw something rather… unexpected.

 

He nearly dropped the box as he stood there trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

 

Kim Dokja was cradled in [1863]’s lap, held tightly against [1863]’s chest, a hand cupping his neck.  His eyes were squeezing shut, head thrown back against the shoulder behind him for support, his mouth open with soft moans escaping breathily and hands gripping the arm banded across his chest, as if needing something to hold on to.  

 

[41]’s gaze trailed down, devouring every wanton detail.  Kim Dokja’s pants were open, his underwear rudely shoved down his thighs.  [1863] stroked his cock at a snail's pace, swiveling his palm over the head, before pumping the shaft again.  

 

[1863] shifted his gaze, noticing [41] standing there like a voyeur, plain want and desire painting his expression.  The corner of [1863]’s mouth lifted before he moved his lips, whispering into Kim Dokja’s ear.

 

Their Omega’s eyes cracked open, gaze locking on to [41] instantly.  

 

And [41] watched as the blush already staining Kim Dokja’s cheeks shifted into a darker shade of red.

 

Yet Kim Dokja didn’t hide himself away in embarrassment.  Instead, he leaned into it, letting out a strangled groan, like the thought of [41] watching while [1863] stroked his cock only added to the pleasure.

 

[41] couldn’t have resisted even if he tried.  

 

He placed the box on an empty shelf, before approaching them, walking slowly, restraining himself from just rushing over to steal a taste.

 

[1863] didn’t stop what he was doing while [41] grasped Kim Dokja’s chin between his fingers, demanding the Omega’s attention.  

 

And when a hint of awareness entered Kim Dokja’s gaze, [41] asked.  “Are you okay with this?”

 

It took a moment for Kim Dokja to process the question, before he dazedly nodded.

 

[41] gently chided him.  “Tsk.  Words, Kim Dokja.”

 

“Y-yesss…” Hissed out when [1863] firmly circled the head of Kim Dokja’s cock with his thumb.

 

[41] didn’t hesitate, leaning in to kiss the Omega that had sparked a fierce desire inside him since the moment they met.  

 

He had been wanting to do this for days , and now that he’s finally gotten Kim Dokja in his reach, he took his time.  

 

He explored Kim Dokja’s lips, tracing its form with the tip of his tongue, then snaking it into Kim Dokja’s mouth, deepening the kiss.  

 

And as he licked into Kim Dokja’s mouth, he felt the seal between their lips get wetter and wetter, the hand around the Omega’s throat gripping just tight enough that it prevented him from swallowing properly, their kiss becoming sloppier when saliva started to leak down their chin.

 

[41]’s hand blindly wandered beneath Kim Dokja’s shirt, fingers finding his nipples to squeeze and pinch and pluck, eliciting a small whine from Kim Dokja.

 

When [41] pulled away, Kim Dokja leaned forward to chase him, forgetting that he was caught against [1863].  

 

His expression changed as he lost himself to the haze, his mouth still leaking saliva, his body twitching between them playing with his nipples and stroking his cock.

 

[41] traded a glance with [1863] before he kneeled between their legs, leaning in to lick boldly at the head of Kim Dokja’s cock.  

 

“AH!  F-fuck…”

 

And, oh how he wanted to do just that.  He wanted to bend Kim Dokja over, face pressed into any surface, the Omega begging so sweetly for [41]’s cock — for his knot — delirious with pleasure.

 

But not yet.  They were still easing Kim Dokja into being more comfortable with them in this way, and some things just couldn’t be rushed.

 

So, as [1863] kept pumping his cock, [41] kept lapping at Kim Dokja’s leaking slit.  He cupped Kim Dokja’s balls for a moment before sliding his hand behind them, playing with his slick hole.

 

In fact, Kim Dokja’s hole was so wet that the gushing fluids seemed to be soaking through the pillows beneath.

 

Maybe [41] would steal the pillow for himself later.

 

He patiently worked his fingers into the tightly clenched opening, the copious amount of slick easing the way.  The soft, squishy feel of slippery walls sucking him in the deeper he penetrated nearly made him lose his focus.   

 

Kim Dokja squirmed between them, forced to endure their careful ministrations, his chest heaving faster and faster as he panted out.  “F-faster, please .”

 

And, who were they to deny their Omega when he pleaded with such a lustful expression? 

 

They sped up their motions, stroking Kim Dokja’s cock faster and faster, while fingers pumped into him rougher and rougher.  

 

[41] searched for Kim Dokja’s prostate, the Omega jolting when he found it, and he worked it mercilessly, if only to hear more of Kim Dokja’s broken cries of approval.

 

“Oh, fuck! Y-yes, keep g-going like t-that…”

 

It didn’t take very long for Kim Dokja’s head to roll back against [1863]’s shoulder, letting out a muffled shout between clenched teeth, as a spurt of cum shot from his slit, and a gush of slick coated 41’s palm, dripping down his arm.  

 

However, [1863] and [41] didn’t stop, only slowing down their rhythm for a brief reprieve, both tacitly agreeing to help Kim Dokja build up to another orgasm.

 

“Wait, wait, wait— s-sto-AH!”

 

But, no matter how Kim Dokja tried to appeal to them, they didn’t stop.  They kept winding him higher and tighter until Kim Dokja came again, just as violently, the squelching noises of [1863] pumping his cock while [41] pumped his fingers sounding more obscene with the cum and slick continuously flowing.

 

And they didn’t stop after that one either.

 

[41] lost track of time, entranced by the licentious view of Kim Dokja’s tear-stained face when he arched so prettily, everything just getting messier and messier with every orgasm.  

 

It was only when Kim Dokja begged them pitifully, vehemently — weakly — asking them to “ please stop ” and that he “ couldn’t take anymore ” in a voice made hoarse from all of the shouting — did they slow, then stop.

 

[1863] kissed Kim Dokja’s temple softly, praising him for being “ so good for them ”.

 

[41] brushed reverent kisses against Kim Dokja’s cheek, telling him how “ pretty he looked coated in his own come and leaking so much slick everywhere ”.

 

Kim Dokja whined weakly between them, arousal at their words sparking in his already over-exerted body.

 

[1863] soothed him, and [41] left to grab damp towels to wipe them all down.

 

He looked at the pillows beneath the pair and made a note that they would have to replace all of them.

 

When Kim Dokja was cuddled in [1863]’s lap contentedly, [41] handed the black box to Kim Dokja and said.  “A courting gift… if you will accept me.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled tenderly, huffing out a laugh.  “Of course I will.”

 

Then he returned his attention back to the box, opening it swiftly.  When the coat was revealed, Kim Dokja’s eyes lit up with wonder, mouth slightly open.  He gently grasped the coat to pull it out.  

 

[41] noted that Kim Dokja’s eyes gained that somewhat sightless glint that he got when was [Reading].

 

He wondered what [Words] he could see.

 

[41] sat next to [1863], pulling Kim Dokja’s legs into his lap — greedy for the feel of his soft skin — as he explained the different features of the coat, and how it was the first of its kind, so the Mass Production Maker would greatly appreciate any feedback on it.

 

Kim Dokja studied the coat, rubbing the material between his fingers.

 

And, after a moment, he placed it back in the box.

 

[41] started to feel a bit anxious, already bracing himself for rejection.

 

But, of course the Omega never did what he expected.

 

Kim Dokja placed the box with the coat gently on the floor, before leaning forward to crawl into [41]’s lap, knees framing his hips.  He took [41]’s face in his hands and pressed his lips softly against [41]’s mouth, held it there for a moment, before pulling back.  Then, he leaned in, arms circling around [41]’s neck, holding them close as Kim Dokja murmured directly into his ear that he “ loved the courting gift .”

 

[41] buried his face in the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest.

He would never forget this feeling — a feeling of wonder so profound — at the realization that with such a simple gift, it felt like he had given Kim Dokja the world .

Chapter 14: The Collar (*)

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of sexual activities including (light) sub/dom dynamics, praise, delayed gratification, voyeurism, and masturbation.

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“Those bastards frickin’ stone-walled us.”

 

Kim Dokja listened with half an ear as Han Sooyoung vented her frustrations to him.  At the same time, he was packing up the few things he had brought with him to his borrowed room.

 

He was really starting to miss his nest at his apartment, and since Yoo Mia had safely passed the worst of the crisis, Kim Dokja thought he would spend a few nights back there.  

 

Maybe he'd steal a few of his Alphas’ things to bring with him.

 

It had been a rare, quiet moment for him when compared to the last few days of being surrounded by so many Alphas vying for his attention.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like the Alphas, or the attention, but it was just something he wasn't used to.  He had lived a quiet life for so long, with only a few close friends and family members, that it was a new experience to be around so many others.

 

So, while he had some time to himself, he decided to tidy up the room he was staying in by packing his things, when his phone rang.  

 

Han Sooyoung had called to tell him that she had just spoken with Yoo Sangah (who was also incensed with the issue), and the whole reason why they couldn’t go to New City right away to investigate Jean Baudrillard’s residence was because of some “ jurisdiction issue ” and “ political bullshit ” and supposedly a lot of “ red tape ”.

 

“They’re just covering their asses because some guy ended up getting murdered in First City, same as the first guy who got murdered in New City.  And instead of solving the first case themselves, they had pushed it off on ERS’s First City branch, saying that New City ‘just didn’t have the manpower’.  What these frickin’ idiots can’t seem to understand is that time is of the essence !”

 

Kim Dokja hummed.  “You think they’re covering their tracks, raiding the house themselves?”

 

Han Sooyoung growled over the phone at that prospect.  “Those bastards.”

 

She sighed, frustrated.  “Yeah.  Sangah-ssi thinks so, too.  She keeps trying to push the paperwork through, but it keeps getting buried on someone’s desk or something.”

 

「Oh, Sangha-ssi, was it?」

 

“Could we at least check out the house of the first victim?”

 

“I’ll check with Sangha-ssi.  She might have an easier time pushing the clearance paperwork through separately, rather than together.”  She huffed.  “Although, it would have been nice to get them cleared together — then we’d have a leg to stand on in this bullshit fight for ‘ jurisdiction ’.”

 

She huffed once, calming down a bit.  “Anyway, what’s going on with you?  Sangah-ssi said you haven’t been at your place for a while now.”  

 

Kim Dokja could just picture Han Sooyoung and her cheeky smile when she said that.

 

“I’m doing fine.”  

 

He didn’t know how to put it any other way than just saying it straight.  “Yoo Joonghyuk and I are dating… courting?— trying the whole relationship-thing…”

 

Han Sooyoung cackled.

 

He could feel a blush slowly burning his cheeks.  “And it’s not only Yoo Joonghyuk.”

 

He heard choking sounds from the speaker, before Han Sooyoung said in a strangled voice.  “You sneaky little rat.  No frickin’ way!  You haven’t even been with anyone before.”

 

“I don’t need you to remind me about that.”

 

In an almost uncharacteristic move, Han Sooyoung asked.  “Are you okay?  I assume you’re staying at their place.  Do I need to come and rescue you?”

 

Kim Dokja smiled softly, feeling his heart clench just a little.  “I’m fine.  Really.  We’re still working things out, though.”

 

“Yeah, I bet.  You’re over there drowning in so much di—“

 

“Anyway, what about you?  Sangah-ssi , is it?”

 

He could hear her spluttering over the phone before she stuttered.  “Y-yeah, you know, with the c-case and all…”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“We’ve just been talking a lot, you know!  It might not even be… a thing…” She trailed off softly, a hint of anxiousness in her voice.

 

“You won’t know until you try.”  He answered kindly.

 

Kim Dokja could hear the rustle of a candy wrapper followed by the clack of hard candy against teeth.

 

“Yeah… maybe I will.  But, hey, you weasel, don’t change the subject!”

 

Kim Dokja felt a presence behind him, and when he turned around, he found [2] standing in the doorway, holding a small black box.  

 

「Oh?」

 

“Sooyoung-ah, I’ll call you back.”

 

“Hey, you—“

 

He hung up, placing the phone on the dresser with a muffled thud. 

 

Kim Dokja studied [2] for a moment, [Words] drifting off of him, not quite able to see the full picture just yet.

 

After what he [Read] when [2] had found him at the pond, Kim Dokja had a lot of time to think about the parts of [2]’s [Story] that he could catch, and he was slowly starting to get an idea of what it would mean for them — what it would mean for their relationship.

 

Kim Dokja kept his tone light when he said.  “You can come in.”

 

[2] cautiously, hesitantly, walked towards him, taking a quick glance around, noting the half-packed bag on the bed.  

 

Maybe even noticing the mixed scents of Yoo Joonghyuk, [1863], and [41].

 

[2] took a deep breath before speaking slowly, as if still trying to find his own [Words].  

 

“I… wanted to apologize…again.  I haven’t found a way to… earn your forgiveness.”   

 

He looked at Kim Dokja seriously, carefully reaching out to grab his hand gently and guiding Kim Dokja to sit on the bed.

 

While [2] sat on the floor at his feet, legs folded beneath his thighs.

 

“I want to… ask that you give me a chance anyway.”  He held out the box to Kim Dokja.  “A courting gift.”

 

At seeing [2] on the floor in front of him, an urge settled low in Kim Dokja’s stomach — an urge that was still forming with every [Word] he [Read] — a [Story] flitting in and out of his understanding.

 

It was an urge that he was still trying to make sense of — but he wasn’t afraid.

 

He reached out, taking the box.  

 

It was much smaller than the box that [41] had given him, he noted.  

 

A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered how he had ‘thanked’ [41] more… privately — by getting on his knees and letting [41] use his throat like a fleshlight.

 

He suppressed the blooming arousal, putting away such memories, and slowly opened the box lid.  When he saw what was inside, the picture he had been struggling to piece together started forming at a rapid pace, his understanding increasing exponentially.

 

So, he asked.  "Is the collar for me… or is it for you ?" 

 

In society, collars were created as a protective measure for Omegas, Betas, and Alphas from being bonded against their will or just in the heat of the moment with their partner.

 

But what it meant in society was much different from what it meant here, now.  Kim Dokja could just make out the [Words] that [2] was trying to keep buried, hidden from the rest of the world — hidden even from himself.

 

He wouldn’t pry open [2]’s [Story] just to sate his own curiosity, especially when [2]’s [Story] wasn’t ready to be shared.  

 

No, instead Kim Dokja continued [Reading] those drifting [Words] — words that seemed like drops of blood bleeding from the old wounds. 

 

And, together, the [Words] formed a portrayal of a relationship so toxic and twisted , where control was perceived as love and manipulation was perceived as care.  

 

Where [2] learned that he could only receive love and care — could only be forgiven — through accepting and enduring punishment.

 

Even if it meant being locked in a cage, chained and leashed.  

 

Even if it meant taking the brunt of her anger for an unknown transgression.

 

Then, afterwards, if he took his punishment well , he would be rewarded with soft touches and kind words from the one he loved so much.  

 

《Even though it was always his fault for standing in the way of her ambitions.》

 

Kim Dokja’s grip tightened around the box, nearly crushing it.

 

He wasn’t stupid either.  He had an idea of what this type of relationship entailed — that if done properly and with actual love and care, it could form a bond of trust so strong and so intense that it makes it hard to walk away from.

 

Kim Dokja thought maybe that’s why [2] had a hard time walking away from it the first time.  

 

[2] had genuinely loved Anna Croft — before she poured acid over everything that they had.

 

And, although he had interpreted this [Story] through his own understanding and cobbled-together [Words], Kim Dokja felt a gradually rising rage in his veins that made him want to destroy all of her “ambitions” along with her entire world until all that was left were ashes.

 

[2] watched him with a steady gaze, leaving the decision in Kim Dokja’s hands.

 

Kim Dokja didn't know anything about navigating this type of dynamic other than what he read about it.  He understood it was built on a strong foundation of trust — of complete, transparent communication between the people involved.

 

But maybe it was something they could learn, together.  Find the things they needed from each other, defining their boundaries as they continued to build their faith in each other — maybe even love.

 

「...Love…」 

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a sharp breath at the thought. 

 

When he reached into the box to grab the collar, [2] watched him with eyes slowly filling with anticipation.

 

The collar was simple, made of black leather with a plain silver buckle in the front.

 

And, as Kim Dokja reached out to slide the leather around [2]’s neck, he brushed a soft kiss against [2]’s temple.

 

No, he still didn’t forgive [2] completely, not yet.

 

But maybe he could… show [2] a different way to earn forgiveness.

 

《A different way to seek salvation .》

 

But since it was still new — the courting and the dynamic itself — it was somewhat of a shock for both of them when Kim Dokja spoke, his voice cool and smooth and dripping with dominance.

 

“Get on the bed, [2].”

 

Kim Dokja stood, still trying to find his footing, slipping into a headspace so different from what he was used to, but willing to try to make it his own.  

 

《Willing to try to share this between them.》

 

He walked to the door with unhurried steps, closing and flicking the lock with a resounding click.

 

However, when he turned around, [2] was still sitting on the floor, mouth agape.   

 

Kim Dokja walked back, a smirk slowly forming on his face, as he reached down, closing [2]’s mouth with a finger, and said, not unkindly.  “You tell me if it’s too much.  The moment you say ‘stop’, we ‘stop’.  Understood?”

 

[2] slowly nodded.

 

“Use your words, [2].”

 

[2] swallowed roughly, before a weak “ Yes ” escaped.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, satisfied.  “Now get on the bed and lie down.”

 

He watched [2] stand, his body trembling, and Kim Dokja noted that his ability to [Read] might come in handy, as he understood that [2] was shaking from both anticipation and a little bit from nerves.

 

The atmosphere was much more keenly felt, fantasy becoming reality.  Kim Dokja felt a slow burning arousal form low in his belly at the sight of the obvious hard-on that was outlined by [2]’s pants.  So, when [2] laid down — rather stiffly, Kim Dokja noticed — Kim Dokja also climbed onto the dresser directly across from the bed, sitting with his legs crossed as he leaned forward, chin resting on his fists.

 

“Are you comfortable, [2]?”

 

Of course, it was a somewhat rhetorical question, wrapped in pleasantry and faux concern, and he expected [2]’s vague grunt in response.

 

Kim Dokja clicked his tongue against his teeth and scolded.  “Lying to me already?  You don’t look very comfortable to me.”

 

He paused, [2] watching him with wary excitement and anticipation.  A dime-sized wet spot started to form on the thin material of [2]’s pants, and Kim Dokja felt that it was only polite to point out the situation plainly.

 

“In fact, it looks like you need to cum.  Badly .  Do you want to cum, [2]?”

 

[2] squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenching at his sides at Kim Dokja’s goading.  After exhaling harshly through his nose, he begrudgingly nodded once.

 

“Use your words, [2].  If I need to remind you again—“

 

“Yes.”  Growled out.

 

“Yes, what ?”

 

“ Yes .  I want to cum .”

 

When [2] opened his eyes, Kim Dokja’s expression became stern.  “But, I don’t think naughty boys who can’t demonstrate any… self-restraint—”

 

Kim Dokja halted, thinking back.  “Naughty boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves don’t deserve to cum.”

 

He didn’t know where the provocation was coming from — these words kept spilling out of his mouth so naturally, in this silky tone that he wasn't accustomed to — but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, his own cock hard yet hidden by his crossed legs and relaxed posture.  

 

[2] struggled to open his mouth.  “I’m… sorry.”

 

“Are you?  Really ?”

 

“I’m sorry for… attacking you.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed.  “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

 

[2]’s expression stiffened, his jaw clenching, and Kim Dokja could practically see the gears in his head turning, questioning, unsure of where to tread next.

 

But [2]’s cock was still straining against the material of his pants, and he imagined that [2]’s cock would be twitching uncontrollably, fluid beading on its tip, if the confines of his pants weren’t so tight.

 

Kim Dokja ran his tongue over dry lips and urged.  “Maybe you can show me?  Show me that you have self-restraint — demonstrate that you can keep your hands to yourself.”

 

His voice dropped lower when he said.  “Show me you can touch yourself without cumming.  You do that and maybe I’ll reward you.”

 

There was a moment where the look in [2]’s eyes changed, becoming glassy, as he snaked a hand into his pants to grip himself.  

 

But Kim Dokja scolded him before he got past the first stroke, a thread of disapproval in his tone.  “Tsk.  Come on, [2].  If you’re going to show me, show me properly .”

 

[2] squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his breath puffing out as he arched his back, lifting his hips so he could push his pants and underwear down his carved thighs, a string of shiny precum stretching from the material to the tip of [2]’s cock.

 

Kim Dokja’s mouth watered as he was practicing his own self-restraint by not crawling over to steal a taste.

 

“Good boy.”

 

[2] visibly shivered at the lust-filled praise.

 

Then, after a moment where it seemed like [2] was bracing himself, he wrapped his hand around his stiff shaft and started pumping, his eyes opening and locking on Kim Dokja.

 

It made Kim Dokja want to pull out his own hardness and work himself into a frenzy at the sight of his Alpha getting himself off.  

 

However, he couldn’t.  

 

「Not yet.」

 

But [2] looked so fucking delicious — his jaw slack and slightly open, one hand pumping while the other gripped the bedsheets, his abs rhythmically flexing, his breath hitching at times when he got in a good stroke.

 

Kim Dokja studied [2], and maybe his own eyes were turning glassy watching this spectacle in front of him combined with the [Words] that were curling off of [2] like smoke.  

 

He noted how little grunts and groans escaped from [2] when he squeezed just a little tighter on the upstroke, then twisted slightly on the downstroke. 

 

He saw how [2] tried to back off when getting too close to the swollen head of his cock.

 

He watched as [2] was struggling to get a full stroke in, his body starting to tremble, the copious amounts of dribbling precum only making the glide smoother.

 

[2] had stopped looking directly at Kim Dokja, trying to only sneak glances from below half-closed lids.

 

Of course, Kim Dokja would remind him that he was being watched.  “Do it properly, [2].”

 

The Alpha grunted out a breath before resuming, seeming to put in the same effort as how he looked when he first started.

 

“Good boy.  You listen so well.”

 

[2] bit off the start of a rolling growl.

 

This time, [2] looked better — hotter than before, determination to last making him curl up over himself, his fist pumping at a faster and faster pace, his thumb periodically pressing against his leaking slit.

 

Kim Dokja could feel his twitching hole leaking slick.

 

Then, when he just caught the edge of a [Word],  he ordered [2] to —

 

“Stop.”

 

[2] snarled, nearly ripping his hand away from this throbbing cock, fingers digging harshly into the bed sheets, his chest heaving as he glared at Kim Dokja, who only chuckled darkly.  “This is a lesson in self-restraint.  Isn’t that right, [2]?”

 

[2] huffed in frustration.

 

Kim Dokja wet his lips and the Alpha watched the action hungrily, before he was ordered to continue.

 

However, [2] was only able to get a few full pumps, the grip on his shaft loosening, trying to stave off his orgasm as much as possible.  

 

“You have to show me properly , [2].  If you don’t show me properly, how are you going to convince me?”  Kim Dokja scolded.

 

He cocked his head before asking, oh so sweetly.  “Do you need me to show you how?”

 

Without waiting for a response, Kim Dokja uncrossed his legs and worked his pants and underwear completely off, dropping his clothes to the floor.  

 

He watched as [2]’s expression grew slack, mouth slightly open, when Kim Dokja fingered out slick from his hole to lube his hand, then grasping his own aching cock.

 

He enthusiastically demonstrated to [2] how to stroke his cock properly.  

 

“S-see? Full stro—Ah—strokes— oh, fuck yes .”

 

Kim Dokja lasciviously smirked when [2]’s gaze followed the rhythm of his hand.  And, almost like they were connected, [2] reached for his own throbbing cock and started stroking in time with Kim Dokja.

 

“T-that’s it.  Just l-like that.”  

 

Kim Dokja tried his best not to get too caught up in his own pleasure, practicing his own self-restraint, the wet sound and smooth glide of his hand working his shaft arching electric pleasure along his spine, the intense feeling of [2]’s attention so completely focused on him.

 

When Kim Dokja started to feel that tingle at the base of his spine, the clenching of his abdomen, he spat out an order to “Stop”, both of them panting heavily.

 

And, after a moment, he started again, with [2] following him obediently.  

 

He didn’t know how many times they repeated the pattern, but as he started to see how shaky [2] was becoming — sweat dripping down, tracing the contours of muscle, the flexing of his abs as he tried to tamp down on the urge to cum — compounded with his own denied orgasm, Kim Dokja decided it was time to bring this game to its inevitable conclusion. 

 

During one of their ‘breaks’, he spoke.  “I’m going to count to ten.  If you can last until the end, I’ll let you have a reward.  Understood?”

 

“Yes.”  Groaned out with an edge of what sounded like relief.

 

But, when Kim Dokja resumed stroking his cock, it was at a much faster pace than what they had been doing so far.  

 

“One.”

 

[2]’s expression was caught somewhere between pleasure and pain.

 

“Two.”

 

The slick sounds filling the room were becoming more obscene.

 

“Three.”

 

[2] bit his bottom lip, still watching Kim Dokja intently, the flush coloring his body seeming to deepen.

 

“Four.”  Gasped out.

 

A groan echoed through the room.  Kim Dokja couldn’t tell if it was from him or [2].

 

“F-five.”

 

[2]’s pupils were blown wide, his chest heaving, a glint of a plea in his eyes.

 

“Si— fuck— six.”

 

Fuck , [2] looked so good like this, so sweaty and desperate.

 

“Sev—en.”

 

Kim Dokja was fighting his own need to cum.

 

“Eight— oh god .”

 

They were both panting, [2]’s hand twisting in the bed sheets, while Kim Dokja gripped the edge of the dresser so tightly that his knuckles were white.

 

“Ni—ine.”

 

Oh fuck .

 

“Ten—Ah!”

 

Kim Dokja shouted, while [2] let out a groan so long and loud that it echoed in the room.  But, instead of throwing his head back like he really wanted to, Kim Dokja forced himself to watch as [2] shuddered through the orgasm he had been denied for what felt like hours.  

 

Kim Dokja stared in wonder at an orgasm so long and intense that it took a full minute or two before [2]’s body finally calmed down, his cock twitching periodically, still spurting out globs of cum.  Which was surprising, since there was so much fluid already coating [2]’s chest and stomach.  

 

Even though he already came, Kim Dokja swallowed drily, his mind wandering, fantasizing about what it would feel like to have the same cock filling him up, pumping all of that cum directly into — he bit back the whimper that started building up in the back of his throat.

 

[2] was breathing hard, as his eyes glued to Kim Dokja when he dropped down from the dresser on shaky legs.  

 

Kim Dokja felt his own cum and a copious amount of slick running down his thighs, a puddle shining on the dresser.  He walked towards the bed and kneeled next to [2].  He reached out to gently brush stray hairs away from [2]’s sweaty temple, before pressing a gentle kiss there.  

 

“You did so good .”

 

[2] closed his eyes tightly for a moment, throat working as he struggled to swallow.  He inhaled deeply, before exhaling slowly.  

 

Then, Kim Dokja licked the shell of [2]’s ear and whispered.

 

“This was a good first lesson.  I’m sure you’ll do even better next time.”

Chapter 15: The Pro-Gamer

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[1864] joined Kim Dokja for breakfast, hoping to spend some time with him, trying to get to know a little more about him.  He was still trying to figure out what courting gift to give him.

 

From what he could see, Kim Dokja had a near obsession with books and reading, which made sense given the characteristics of his ability.  

 

He felt a little sour that it was so easy for [1863] to craft his own courting gift for Kim Dokja, although it probably wouldn’t be ready for another few months.

 

He was also somewhat curious about the gift that [2] had given to Kim Dokja.  He noticed that [2] had seemed more…spirited than usual during practice, dragging the tip of his sword on the floor, wearing a new black leather collar with a silver buckle.

 

“Do you have plans today, [1864]?”  Kim Dokja was looking at him expectantly.

 

“No.”

 

Kim Dokja grinned.  “I was planning to stop by my office today, if you’d like to come with me?”

 

[1864] didn’t hesitate.  “Yes.”

 

And he found that he would like to go with Kim Dokja to his office — or anywhere, really, as long as they were together — to see a different side of him, maybe even figure out what Kim Dokja really does at Underworld, Inc.

 

So, that’s how they ended up on the subway.  [1864] had offered to drive them, but Kim Dokja said that parking was such a hassle for their office building and the subway exit was so close that it really was better to take public transport.

 

However, it wasn’t only himself and Kim Dokja as [1864] had hoped.  [666] had decided to come along — likely wanting to spend some time with Kim Dokja, [1864] had surmised — but also to discuss whatever was needed with Underworld regarding the Beta testing for their upcoming game.

 

[1864] could admit that he was initially unhappy with the turn of events.  Still, like with everything else between them, this too would be something they would have to compromise on.  

 

《There was only one Kim Dokja, after all.》

 

And, maybe he would get a chance to ditch [666] with Underworld’s negotiations team while he went with Kim Dokja to do whatever it was the Omega needed to do.

 

[1864] belatedly noticed how Kim Dokja had decided to wear the white coat [41] had gifted him and very casual office worker attire — while [1864] and [666] had to walk out wearing face masks, sunglasses, and baseball caps.

 

And it made him think.

 

「How had Kim Dokja walked through life thus far with such anonymity?」

 

Especially considering his unique ability, Kim Dokja would have been snatched up by some enforcement organization or other, possibly even ERS, yet here he was, working at a small gaming company, a complete unknown to the world.

 

[1864] remembered how [41] couldn’t find any substantial information at all on Kim Dokja from a standard search, and found even less information on a more in-depth search.

 

It made him wonder if it was by design or if that’s how Kim Dokja saw himself — a faceless nobody with nothing in particular to note.

 

He hoped it was the former instead of the latter.  Because if it was the latter… 

 

Maybe he’d help relieve Kim Dokja of that notion.

 

[1864] looked around the subway carriage.  It wasn’t as crowded as it would be during the peak hours.  Kim Dokja sat comfortably between him and [666], both of them looking down at their phones.

 

He felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards at the sight they made.

 

[666] was likely reading through his emails and various other contracts and sponsor deals for [1864], a hand casually resting on Kim Dokja’s thigh.

 

[1864] peeked over at Kim Dokja’s phone, seeing a wall of text that he was slowly scrolling through.  

 

It was probably one of Kim Dokja’s much-beloved webnovels.  

 

[1864] watched Kim Dokja while his face was drawn closer and closer to the screen.

 

He figured it must have been a really exciting part of the story.

 

It only felt natural to put an arm around Kim Dokja’s hunching shoulders, pulling him into [1864]’s side, the movement jolting Kim Dokja out of whatever trance he was in.

 

“You’ll get sucked into your smartphone at this rate.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled bashfully at him, a warm chuckle rolling out.  “Are you rescuing me from the novel?”

 

[1864] shook his head.  “Just keeping you grounded.”

 

Kim Dokja’s expression turned thoughtful.  “Wouldn’t that be something, though?  Being sucked into a novel… or the novel becoming reality…”

 

He looked down at his phone again.  “Eh, maybe not this particular webnovel.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s an apocalypse-themed work.”  Kim Dokja looked around them while wearing a small smile.  “The first chapters started in a subway, actually.”

 

Then, almost as if it were an ominous premonition, a commotion was heard coming from the front of the subway carriage.

 

“What the fuck are you looking at?!”

 

A tall, scrawny looking Beta was shouting at another Beta, getting in their face.  The other Beta wore a shocked expression, her mouth hanging open, made speechless from the obviously unprovoked aggression.

 

And, like everyone else in the carriage, [1864] watched the spectacle as it unfolded.

 

They watched as the enraged Beta yelled obscenities at the other.  The longer it went on, the more she shrank into herself, her shoulders hunching more and more, too shocked and overwhelmed to get a word out to defend herself.

 

[1864] felt fingers digging into his thigh, allowing him to tear his gaze away from the pair, his gaze landing on Kim Dokja whose expression was so tense, [1864] could see the clench of his jaw, his body coiling.

 

Before he could stop him, Kim Dokja was up and out of his seat, shouting out a clear and concise “Hey”, getting the attention of the angered Beta as he was about to raise his hand in violence.

 

And, maybe there were [Words], or even a [Story], that Kim Dokja was [Reading], because as the enraged Beta stormed towards Kim Dokja, [1864] could feel a shift in the air, like the flow was being redirected.

 

A noticeable change came over the Beta, his steps starting to slow, his expression gradually morphing from anger to confusion, coming to a halt a few feet in front of [1864].

 

[1864] hadn’t even noticed when he had risen from his seat to stand in front of Kim Dokja — his Alpha instincts making him move , an unconscious action to protect.

 

Silence settled over the carriage, all eyes turned towards them, watching, waiting, and [1864] couldn’t help feeling a thread of annoyance at their inaction — even though he was similarly guilty for his own inaction earlier.

 

《Some things really could only be understood if you stood in the same place.》

 

The Beta was standing dumbly in front of them, a confused “ W-what… ?” breathed out.  

 

As if by coincidence or a stroke of luck, the announcement came over the speakers informing them of their stop.  

 

So, [1864] and [666] tacitly grasped Kim Dokja’s hands to quickly pull him out of the opening doors to the station.

 

When they reached a relatively quiet, more private area, [666] abruptly stopped, spinning around to face Kim Dokja, and growling out a “ Why did you do that?! ” and “ Why put yourself in danger?! ”.

 

[1864] felt the same anger towards Kim Dokja — for risking himself for some unknown stranger — but, now that they were away from the danger, he could understand a little of the reason behind his actions. 

 

He recalled the way Kim Dokja looked before he had stepped in — how his eyes seemed to spark with familiarity, his body tensed in a particular way, preparing himself for fight-or-flight.

 

But [1864] also recalled the feel of the grip on his thigh, the way the fingers kept digging in to the point of pain — a precursor reaction akin to building up something like determination or courage before all that latent energy is unleashed.

 

[1864] was very familiar with such micro reactions.  When he immersed himself in gaming, he felt a similar tension when controlling his avatar through a series of complex movements for an ultimate attack, or when hunting during a stealth mission, his target in his sight, as he waited for the right moment to pounce.

 

It made him curious about Kim Dokja’s past, what circumstances he had been through to develop such a visceral reaction from witnessing a confrontation between complete strangers.

 

And, like most things with Kim Dokja, [1864] didn’t need to speak the question to get an answer.

 

Kim Dokja gently squeezed [666]’s hand before speaking, his voice slightly shaky.  “When I was younger… I lived with an abusive father.”

 

A growl rolled out from both [1864] and [666].

 

“What about your mother?”  [1864] asked.

 

Kim Dokja smiled sadly.  “She wasn’t strong enough to leave him.  Although she protected me the best that she could.”  He sighed softly.  “She nurtured my love for reading.”

 

He shrugged.  “Maybe that was what caused them to fight so often, too.  The one thing my mother defied my father about — a ‘Dokja’ made out of the hanja for ‘reader’ instead of what my father wanted —‘only child’.”

 

But both [1864] and [666] noticed that Kim Dokja spoke of it as if it were in the distant past, rather than the present.

 

[666] looked at Kim Dokja intensely.  “So… what happened to them?”

 

The question made Kim Dokja stop short, biting his lip nervously, his eyes shifting uncertainly between [1864] and [666], then looking out to search the area around them.  

 

“He… died — can we talk about this later?  We really should get to my office.”

 

There was a brief pause as they both looked at Kim Dokja, noting his fidgeting hands and his clammy palms.  How his eyes were pleading for a bit more time before explaining, a hint of fear that [1864] couldn’t decipher the reason for.

 

But, they had all agreed that they would give Kim Dokja the time, the understanding , and not push for answers that weren’t ready to be given.

 

So, [666] just nodded and [1864] pulled Kim Dokja close, brushing his lips softly against his forehead, whispering out a “ We’ll wait. ”

 

The relieved sigh he felt brush against his neck was like a reward in and of itself.

 

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It was barely even a five minute walk from the subway street-level exit to Kim Dokja’s office building — a building that seemed to be dwarfed by the much taller buildings surrounding it.

 

[1864] vaguely remembered that he and [666] came here once before for an initial meeting to negotiate their contract for testing.  He didn’t remember seeing or meeting Kim Dokja at that time since their meeting was with Jang Hayoung — who had introduced herself as Underworld’s communications and contracting specialist — and it gave him the impression that Kim Dokja was a typical office worker for this company.

 

But, when they stepped through a glass door with the logo, “Underworld, Inc.”, etched into it, the faces of the few workers passing through the front waiting area immediately turned towards them, their expressions varying between wonder and excitement.

 

And, as one of them excitedly moved towards them, the rest followed.  If it weren’t for the pleasant smile on Kim Dokja’s face, [1864] would have been more worried.

 

An esper Beta with red hair and amber eyes spoke first, addressing Kim Dokja. 

 

“Dreamer-nim, we know you’ve been busy these past few days, but could you please look at this new storyboard we just converted to animation?”

 

A guide Alpha, wearing glasses and a graphic shirt, added.  “Ah, yes!  We just finished the coding for initial user control inputs.  And, if you’re free, Dreamer-nim, maybe you could come and test it out for us?”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  “I’m free to check it out.”

 

As if attracted by the commotion, Jang Hayoung walked into the space, carrying a tablet and clipboard.  With a grin stretched across her face, she greeted them.  “Dokja-yah, good to see your face in the office for once.  And, good to see you both, again.”

 

She turned to [666] expectantly.  “Did you like the latest revisions made to the contract?  Any more changes needed?”

 

Then, without waiting for a response, she turned towards a side door, opening it and motioning for them to step in.  “We can talk more here.”

 

“Hayoung-ah, I’ll just go and check out a new piece of the game with Asuka-ssi and Shoji-ssi.”

 

[1864] traded a glance with [666], before [666] looked towards Kim Dokja.  “Go.  I’ll speak with Jang Hayoung.”

 

Kim Dokja must have forgotten that they were still holding hands, only to be reminded of it as Jang Hayoung cast a sly look between them, giving Kim Dokja a thumbs-up before stepping into the meeting room with [666].  Even though a slow blush crept across Kim Dokja’s cheeks, he didn’t pull away from [1864].

 

No, instead Kim Dokja squeezed his hand a little tighter, asking for his attention.  “Do you want to come and check out the game with me?”

 

[1864] felt a bit of excited anticipation, like starting a new adventure into an unknown world, with Kim Dokja as his companion.

 

He nodded once, and, before Kim Dokja turned away to guide [1864] down a side hallway, he caught the hint of a wide smile on the Omega’s face.

 

They passed a few cubicles — some empty and others with an employee working on a computer — and even a side space with a long light table with various stools around it.  

 

And, when they stepped through a door at the end of the hall — which, to [1864], had looked like a blank, white tiled wall, until Kim Dokja fitted his hand to one of the tiles causing it to light up and the door to open — a waft of cooled air hit his face.  

 

He heard the soft shick of the door slipping back into place behind them. 

 

In the room was a single desk with four monitors, a keyboard and mouse in the center.  A couch and coffee table were off to the side, while a small nook was set up in a corner with soft pillows and cushions.

 

Kim Dokja pulled out the rolling chair in front of the desktop and sat in it.  

 

As they were waiting for the desktop to boot up, he turned to [1864].  “I know this isn’t as cool as your setup at home, but this gets the job done for my work here.”

 

[1864] looked towards the computer tower and made note of the graphics card logo that appeared on the screens as it was booting up.  “It’s not bad.  Only slightly outdated.”

 

Kim Dokja laughed.  “I mostly use it for testing incomplete games anyway.”  He pointed towards the guide Alpha who had followed them into the room.  “Shoji-ssi has a better setup.”

 

The two employees seemed to look between [1864] and Kim Dokja curiously for a moment before Kim Dokja spoke again.  “Ah, completely forgot.  Shoji-ssi and Asuka-ssi, this is [1864].  Maybe he was hard to recognize with the mask and everything.  [1864], this is Shoji Michio, head graphics designer and 3D animator, and Asuka Ren, our lead storyboard artist.”

 

Upon hearing his name, Shoji Michio’s and Asuka Ren’s eyes widened, and they both quickly bowed low, stuttering out their own introductions and apologies for not greeting him sooner.

 

[1864] was about to wave off their apologies, when Kim Dokja spoke, his words making him pause.  “Don’t worry too much about it.  He’s here as my Alpha today, and not his pro-gamer persona.”

 

And, although Kim Dokja looked a little bashful at boldly announcing such a claim, his gaze was steady as he looked at [1864], holding a warmth that was clearly felt by [1864].

 

He didn’t miss the shocked glance traded between Shoji Michio and Asuka Ren, before it turned into excitement and wonder as they turned back to Kim Dokja.

 

But, almost as if Kim Dokja was expecting it, he asked where the draft game file was saved, smoothly changing the subject.

 

Shoji Michio stepped in to open up the file and start the game — getting closer to Kim Dokja than [1864]’s Alpha instincts were comfortable with.

 

Kim Dokja entered a new player username — “The_Oldest_Dr3am”— and a long password — something that started with an “O” and definitely had “reader” somewhere in it — and he wondered if that was why Kim Dokja was addressed as “Dreamer-nim” when they first entered.

 

So [1864] asked him.

 

Kim Dokja wore a small smile as he noted that “ it was his usual login handle ” when testing, and explained that keeping the same handle every time helped the coding team keep track of the different users logging in.

 

[1864] wondered.  “Why did you choose that name?”

 

Kim Dokja’s smile turned sly and teasing.  “Not as cool as ‘Supreme King’?”

 

Then his expression turned thoughtful.  “I’m not sure… it just… came to me one day.”

 

And it was an answer that [1864] could understand.  

 

The game loaded up with crude graphics of storyboard sketches mixed with rough 3D models, and it looked to have the typical user keyboard controls, using ‘WASD’ for movements and the mouse for actions.

 

From what he could tell from the drafted story and dialogue, it seemed to be an epic-fantasy RPG-type game where the player was given choices when overcoming obstacles.

 

“Ah, Dreamer-ssi, this is the part we were discussing.”

 

It was a dialogue in the story where the player had to make a choice by pressing “1” — saving a majority of the townspeople by killing a few — or “2” — sacrificing the player to save the entire town.

 

[1864] thought.  

 

Of course “1” would be the better option, since “2” might cause the player to instantly lose the game.  

 

「But then what kind of choice was that?」 

 

No, it was more likely that by choosing “2”, it would open up the player to a new story arc or something.

 

Still, it seemed like Kim Dokja was thinking intently about this choice, more so than the choices he made previously.  

 

[1864] noticed that Kim Dokja very rarely asked questions about the choices given throughout his play testing, picking one decisively then moving on, even if the result ended badly for the player.  He just kept willfully progressing forward to the next thing, accepting the consequences of his actions instead of restarting the playthrough for that “perfect run”.

 

It was something that may have annoyed [1864] to no end.  In his gameplay, he had a tendency to regress to the last savepoint when an action he did resulted in an unexpected result, sometimes repeating the same trial over and over until he achieved the result he wanted.  

 

However, he reminded himself that this was just playtesting and not the fully finished game.

 

And, of course, Kim Dokja understood the assignment, although with an unexpected choice.

 

Kim Dokja pressed both the “1” and “2” keys simultaneously.

 

“Um, Dreamer-nim?  That…”  Shoji Michio trailed off, unsure what to say.

 

Kim Dokja laughed softly.  “I didn’t like the choices… Just wanted to see what would happen.”  

 

However, it seemed Asuka Ren didn’t have the same problem.  “Dreamer-nim!  That’s perfect, like a hidden piece!”

 

A glint entered Shoji Michio’s eye.  “Or… like a secret ending…”

 

“Exactly!  The message boards will go wild once someone playing finds out something like this.”  Asuka Ren looked at Shoji Michio apologetically.  “Although… We’ll have to trouble you… Your team will have to rework the code a bit more.”

 

Shoji Michio shook his head, smiling softly.  “No problem.  Your team will also need to draft a whole new chapter.”

 

Asuka Ren had a thoughtful expression as she mumbled, “Maybe we already have just the thing…”

 

As they continued discussing the possibilities of a new arc for the player, Kim Dokja had returned his attention back to the game, and pressed the “2” key.  

 

It resulted in what [1864] had expected, taking the player into an underworld-type map and continuing the player’s story there.

 

However, [1864] was getting tired of standing and motioned for Kim Dokja to stand up, which he did with a curious expression.

 

Then [1864] sat down, pulling Kim Dokja back into his lap.  

 

Kim Dokja made a small noise of surprise, his cheeks turning red, but he didn’t put up much more of a fuss than that as he resumed playing with [1864]’s chin resting on his shoulder.

 

To [1864], it felt like both a novelty — because he was enjoying watching someone else other than Mia play for once — and comfort, because the feel of holding Kim Dokja so close — his scent filling his senses — calmed something inside him that he hadn’t realized was so… restless .

 

A feeling that was like returning home, like finding peace after traveling alone on a long, arduous journey.

 

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The game and story was much farther along than [1864] initially thought.  They tested it together for a few hours more, Kim Dokja engaging [1864] in some of the choices, while [1864] voiced his opinions on the path they should choose.

 

So they couldn’t be blamed for not noticing when Shoji Michio and Asuka Ren had left the room to work on more aspects of the game.

 

However, they were pulled back to reality when the soft sound of a bell echoed throughout the room.

 

Kim Dokja paused the game and turned his head to look at [1864].  “Just swing the chair around, facing the door.”

 

[1864] followed his instruction, turning them both, and was surprised and intrigued by what he found.

 

Words were slowly appearing, forming a sentence across the empty wall — like a message from the other side, [1864] thought.

 

When it was completed, it read.

 

〚Dokja-ssi, we’re done negotiating the contract.〛

 

〚Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] are here, too.〛

 

〚We will be talking about this later.〛

 

Kim Dokja buried his face in his hands with a sigh.

 

[1864] allowed himself a small smirk as he pried Kim Dokja’s hands from his face, taking them gently into his own, as he asked.  “Why the wall messages?”

 

Kim Dokja responded, with a hint of playful vindictiveness in his tone.  “Hayoung-ah likes to write on walls so we incorporated it into the office design.”  

 

Then, with fondness in his voice, he explained.  “It’s our internal messaging center.  Donghoon-ah, our network manager, advised us not to go with a third-party service for inter-office communication, since he preferred to keep our network ‘closed’, so to speak.  He is also a bit paranoid about our system getting hacked and our data stolen.”

 

[1864] thought while looking at the now-blank wall.  “Is it a marketable technology?”

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  “The only reason why it works so well is because it functions and is controlled by Hayoung-ah’s and Donghoon-ah’s own esper abilities.”  

 

He motioned towards the wall tiles.  “We have these tiles placed in the various rooms and work desks throughout our office for inter-office communication.  They were made by special commission from the Mass Production Maker.”

 

[1864] couldn’t help but comment.  “That must have cost a fortune.”

 

“It cost us practically nothing.”  Kim Dokja added quietly.  “The Mass Production Maker is an old friend.”

 

「Now wasn’t that interesting?」

 

[1864] would have continued questioning him if it weren’t for the knocking heard from the other side of the wall.

 

“Come on.  Let’s save the game here.”  Kim Dokja smiled shyly.  “Maybe we could come back and continue playing again… together?”

 

[1864] liked the sound of that.  

 

A lot.

 

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They met Yoo Joonghyuk, [41], [666], and Jang Hayoung at the meeting room.  

 

“About time.”  Jang Hayoung teased.  

 

She nodded at [1864].  “Thank you for bringing him back in one piece.”  

 

Then, she pointed her stylus at [1864] and said more seriously.  “You are now under contract, and anything you saw today shall not be spoken of outside the bounds of the contract, or this office building, or anywhere else, to anyone else.  Understood?”

 

[1864] looked to [666], then nodded.

 

“Good.”  Jang Hayoung turned back to Kim Dokja.  “And you, you can’t just bring your Alphas here whenever you feel like it.”  

 

She tapped the stylus against her lip thoughtfully.  “Although, having a famous, relevant pro-gamer seen coming in and out of our building wouldn’t hurt either.”

 

“Hayoung-ah.”  Kim Dokja scolded.

 

“What!  Good publicity and all that.”

 

“Hayoung-ah.”

 

“Bah!  Fine.  I’ll leave you to it, then.  Speak to you soon.”  She told him pointedly before leaving the room.

 

Kim Dokja turned towards Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].  “Did you need something?”

 

“Are you done with work?”  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, while looking around the small meeting room.

 

“I should be.  The team didn’t ask anything more from me today.”

 

[41] nodded.  “We can give you a ride home, then.”

 

Kim Dokja paused for a moment before asking.  “I think I’ll stay at my place tonight… if you want to stay with me?”

 

Then, he sighed out.  “I really miss my nest.”

Chapter 16: The Nest (*)

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of sexual activities with more than two people, including sub/dom dynamics, cock-warming, knotting, praise, (light) degradation, and (implied) influence of aphrodisiacs/pheromones.

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Kim Dokja had really just wanted to spend some time in his nest for a few nights.  Since Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had come by his office to give him a ride, Kim Dokja had a sudden urge to invite them to spend the night with him — a bit of nervous anticipation at having these Alphas in his nest.

 

He already knew they were extremely compatible, a forgone conclusion after the many… activities he and his Alphas had been doing.  But he wanted to see — to be sure — what it would be like to have them in his nest.  Whether his Omega instincts decided to sabotage — or, even worse, he, himself, would hijack — what was becoming a “good thing” and for some strange reason he didn’t want them invading his nest at all .

 

A nest was the most private space an Omega could have.  And, considering these were the first Alphas — and likely only Alphas — who had ever been invited into a space he held dear to his heart, it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility that he might… freakout a little bit.

 

Instead of returning home, [1864] and [666] had reunified with Yoo Joonghyuk so that the car ride to his apartment was less cramped.  And, since [41] had worked with Yoo Joonghyuk the entire day, he adamantly wanted to remain separate.

 

It was an unusual thing to watch while [1864] and [666] rejoined with Yoo Joonghyuk.  Kim Dokja wasn’t sure if it was due to his ability, or if it was something else, but the bodies of [1864] and [666] started to deconstruct, unraveling into dark text that seemed to flow towards Yoo Joonghyuk, fading into his skin, as natural as one shadow merging with another.  

 

However, something about the color of the ‘characters’ tickled something in Kim Dokja’s mind.  The shade was so intensely dark it reminded him of… it was just at the edge of his thoughts… 

 

「Was it from a dream?」  

 

Or did he see it somewhere else?

 

For a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes had gone sightless, as if listening to something no one else could.  Then, he pointedly glared at Kim Dokja before growling out a question.  “What happened on the subway?”

 

The explanation for that was easy — the Beta in their subway carriage was about to cause harm to another Beta for no apparent reason that anyone could tell — and for no apparent reason that Kim Dokja could [Read].  He explained how the [Words] he had come across seemed strange, that they didn’t appear to be particularly ‘attached’ to the enraged Beta — almost like they had been… transplanted there by someone or something else.  He explained how [Words] usually are deeply tethered to a person, and weren’t fickle things that would detach from their creator so easily.  He explained how it was nothing at all for Kim Dokja to take those [Words] and destroy them, as easy as swatting flies, erasing [Words] that didn’t belong there in the first place.   

 

What Kim Dokja did not explain was how watching the scene had reminded him of his own childhood, standing by as he witnessed his father degrade, belittle, and abuse his mother.  

 

How he still blamed himself for not being strong enough to protect his mother sooner.

 

It was that feeling that urged him to stand up, to break past the shock of by-standing, merely watching the madness.

 

Still, even if Kim Dokja hadn’t mentioned the guilt that was driving him to act so rashly, maybe Yoo Joonghyuk had put something together from [1864] and [666].  The Alpha had opened his mouth, about to ask the questions that Kim Dokja had side-stepped earlier — the ones about Kim Dokja’s past, about his biological parents — but then he promptly closed it, likely seeing something in Kim Dokja’s expression.  

 

Instead, Yoo Joonghyuk pulled Kim Dokja close, burying his nose in his neck, shamelessly scent marking him, while [41] — who, Kim Dokja noticed, was always so adept at reading the room — deftly stepped against Kim Dokja’s back, holding him between them.

 

And, it was so comforting, so secure, so safe , that it almost made Kim Dokja want to spill his whole history onto the floor for them to see — feed his [Story] to them on a silver platter and watch as they devoured every single piece.  

 

Yet, the fear — the uncertainty — skittering down his spine was like a warning that he wasn’t ready to share that part of himself.  Not yet.

 

But then.

 

During the car ride over to his apartment, Persephone had called, informing him that she would be stopping by to drop off Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, and if he could please watch them for a few hours until she and Hades finished attending a gala event in the city.

 

So, here he was, sitting in front of Persephone, introducing his boyfriends to her.

 

Kim Dokja still hadn’t a clue how he got himself into this situation

 

He sat between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] at the dining table with Persephone sitting across from them, while Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung were playing a video game in the living room.

 

Persephone studied first Yoo Joonghyuk, then turned to study [41].  After a moment, she spoke, and her tone would have sounded cold if Kim Dokja hadn’t known her for so long.

 

“What are your intentions with our son?”

 

“Mom— “

 

She lifted a hand, making him pause mid-sentence.  Kim Dokja sighed deeply and glanced between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41], who both seemed unphased.

 

Which was not a simple feat.  Persphone’s Alpha status was partially open, nearly saturating the space, while her skill as a guide left a feeling lingering in the air, like a snake coiling to strike.

 

Unbothered, Yoo Joonghyuk bluntly answered.  “We want him to be ours.”

 

[41] didn’t hold back, either.  “And we want to be his.”

 

Kim Dokja nearly choked on his own breath.

 

Persephone’s gaze sharpened.  “‘ We ’, is it?”

 

Her eyes shifted to Kim Dokja.  “Have you spoken with Sookyoung-ah, yet?”

 

A feeling of nervousness and anxiety started low in the pit of Kim Dokja’s stomach.  “Y-yes… But I haven’t introduced them yet.”

 

Persephone hummed.  After a moment, she nodded, as if something was decided.  

 

And, usually it already was decided, without further input from anyone else.

 

“Dinner this weekend at our house.  My dear son, you’ll let us know how many… guests you’ll be bringing.”  

 

She gave Kim Dokja a pointed look.  “Sookyoung will meet them then.”

 

Helplessly, Kim Dokja nodded, swallowing nervously, resignedly accustomed to Persephone’s way of doing things.  He knew that it was proper for him to introduce his biological mother, Lee Sookyoung, to his Alphas.

 

But then sharing the [True Story] of his past would inevitably follow.     

 

He wanted to protest, to confess to Persephone that he wasn’t ready to speak about that time — to share the [True Story] with Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts.  That he was still afraid of what they might think of him or how they might see him differently — maybe even see him as defective .

 

But her eyes were not unkind as she looked at Kim Dokja with a warmth he was all too familiar with.  She had known him for long enough — sometimes even more than he knew of himself — and she understood that if he could delay the inevitable, he would do everything in his arsenal to try.  From his expression, she probably read all of his insecurities bubbling up to the surface.

 

However, maybe it was the way Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had answered her — or maybe it was her uncanny sixth sense — that had swayed her to give Kim Dokja a slight push — to trust these Alphas with something so important. 

 

Reconciling his conflicting emotions, Kim Dokja would just have to find the courage to explain to Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts before the dinner — before meeting his Mother .

 

It was important to him that he be the one to share the [True Story] with them — and not have it revealed in some other way.

 

Persephone stood from the table, her gown trailing behind her as she glided to the door.  Kim Dokja rose to follow her, but she waved him off nonchalantly.  Just before she turned to leave, she said affectionately, “Don’t worry, I’ll speak with your father about this before the dinner.”

 

The door closed softly behind her.

 

For a moment, Kim Dokja just stood there, staring at nothing, thinking — teetering on the verge of panic — as he had yet to speak with Hades about the whole… relationship-thing.

 

But then [41] grasped his hand and brushed his lips gently against Kim Dokja’s fingers, dragging him out of his thoughts, before guiding him towards the living room.  Kim Dokja followed in a daze, vaguely hearing Yoo Joonghyuk saying he would prepare something for dinner.

 

And, when Shin Yoosung blindly reached for him, pulling him down to sit between her and Lee Gilyoung — both of them still intently focused on the game — Kim Dokja went willingly, lifting his arms so both children could slide closer into his sides.

 

[41] picked up the third controller — choosing to sit on the floor in front of Kim Dokja’s legs — and offered Kim Dokja the fourth controller.

 

He declined, telling him he would be useless at this type of game.  

 

To which, both children distractedly agreed.

 

After finishing the level of what looked like a cooperative, multi-player, zombie killing survival game, Lee Gilyoung insolently nudged [41] with his foot and asked him “Who are you?” 

 

Before Kim Dokja could admonish Lee Gilyoung for his rudeness, [41] graciously introduced himself, before nonchalantly adding, “I’m Kim Dokja’s boyfriend.”

 

Lee Gilyoung’s eyes narrowed.  It was obviously meant to be a provocation, but before he could say anything further, Shin Yoosung reached over to poke his cheek.  “Gilyoung-ie, we talked about this.  Don’t make so much trouble for Oppa.”

 

Lee Gilyoung huffed, before grumbling, “I know, I know.  Let’s just play the game.”

 

Kim Dokja gently stroked his fingers through Lee Gilyoung’s hair, and even though the youth wore a disgruntled expression, he naturally leaned into it anyway.

 

Kim Dokja quietly watched them play, both Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung getting more and more excited as they progressed through the level.  When they eventually encountered the first main boss, they defeated it with very little effort, aided by [41]’s competent gaming skills.  

 

「As to be expected.」

 

Lee Gilyoung was having so much fun that he had forgotten his own personal feelings about Kim Dokja’s boyfriends.  He shouted happily, “It feels just like riding the bus!  That boss was so easy.”

 

They played a few more levels, until Yoo Joonghyuk called them for dinner.  

 

While they were eating, there was a moment where Kim Dokja noticed Shin Yoosung gazing intently between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] while chewing her food, seeming much older than her current age.  Then, she nodded to herself — a habit, he noted, that she likely picked up from Persephone — before returning to her food.

 

It left Kim Dokja feeling slightly disconcerted all through dinner.  Still, he followed the children to the living room, as Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] cleaned up the table.  

 

And, just like they had done many nights before, after Kim Dokja sat down, Lee Gilyoung took one leg, while Shin Yoosung took the other, resting their heads in his lap.  The serene contentment resettled him, and he switched on a mindless movie, running his fingers through their hair.

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had returned to the living room, they each took a seat on the floor in front of Kim Dokja.

 

It didn’t take long for the children to doze off, their breathing turning soft and rhythmic, and Kim Dokja wished that he could capture this moment forever.

 

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The gala finished on-time and Persephone and Hades came to pick up Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung as promised.

 

Only Persephone had come up to his apartment to carry the sleepy children.  She had leaned in to tell Kim Dokja that she had yet to speak to Hades about their son’s boyfriends and she thought it best that Hades wait in the car for the time being until she did.  After which, she brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek and wished them good night.

 

After reminding them not to forget about the ‘Dinner’.

 

In the relative silence that was left behind, Kim Dokja turned to Yoo Joonghyuk and [41], suddenly feeling anxious and like he couldn’t look at them straight-on like he usually would.  

 

As he was trying to find the same confidence he had that first night, when he had invited Yoo Joonghyuk in, he walked to the living room to grab his coat — the one [41] had gifted him as a sign of intention — as a sign of affection.  He reached into the pocket space to pull out his overnight bag — which had some new additions, like the creamy scarf he had taken from [1863] and the shirt he had taken from [2] and the hoodie he had taken from [1864].

 

He still felt unsettled — a bit of nervous excitement for everything that could go right mixed with worry about everything that could go wrong — so he turned back to Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] and quickly mumbled out a “ Would you like to see my nest? ”, before abruptly turning on his heel and walking down the hall to his room.

 

And before he lost his nerve, he reached for the handle, opening the door to a maze of bookshelves.  

 

He stepped in, taking a deep breath, and the familiar smell of the pages, and wood stain, and his own particular scent helped him to compose himself, reminding him that here, in this place, he was safe.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped in close, an arm going around his waist to pull him into a firm chest, the vibration of a purr soothing him further.

 

[41] followed, closing the door behind him, an expression of barely concealed surprise and awe on his face as he looked around.  

 

Granted, not all of the shelves were completely full.  There were a few empty spaces here and there where the rest of the room could be seen beyond them.

 

“How even… did you read all of these?”  [41] asked, his voice soft.

 

Kim Dokja looked around, as he led them further in, turning a corner here and there, trying to imagine what it looked like to someone else.  “Yes.  I’ve read all of these at one time or another.”

 

He brushed his fingers over the spine of a book affectionately.  “They were gifts from my adoptive parents.”

 

“But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.”  

 

Kim Dokja wasn’t ready to talk about these things with them just yet.  

 

And he really did miss his nest, even more so now that he was so close to its hidden door.

 

He reached out, pulling a book from the shelf they stopped in front of.  It activated a hidden switch, causing the bookshelf to swing inwards, revealing another room.  

 

And as the ceiling lights turned on with a soft glow, the room’s interior was revealed to have a low, gently sloping ceiling, with the floor recessed deeper, lined with cushions and pillows and soft bedding materials that Kim Dokja had collected over the years.   

 

At periodic intervals around the room, eye hooks with chains and cuffs could be seen.  

 

He had forgotten about those.

 

Then he thought that maybe [2] would like them.

 

The sound of low growls soaked with possessiveness were heard from the Alphas next to him, as the space was so saturated with his scent and pheromones it could not be mistaken as anything other than Kim Dokja’s territory — their Omega’s territory .

 

It sent a shiver of arousal skittering down his spine.  

 

They understood what it meant to be standing at the threshold to such a space. 

 

He pulled away from Yoo Joonghyuk to step into the room — Yoo Joonghyuk letting him go with some reluctance — and his feet sank down into the cushions as he walked towards the center. 

 

After taking a deep breath, he turned back to them, pausing for a moment to really take in how they looked standing in the doorway, waiting to be invited in.

 

His Omega instincts were telling him that they were good Alphas to be so patient, so respectful , and Kim Dokja vaguely felt himself slipping into that point of view, letting it take over, and he started to realize that his Omega had already accepted these Alphas so completely that it wasn’t even an issue when they took the first step into his nest.  

 

He had forgotten why he had been so worried as they stalked towards him, the light in the room slowly dimming as the bookshelf closed, sealing them in.

 

And, when he caught the edge of their Alpha pheromones, it seemed stronger, more concentrated, making him greedy for more, triggering the release of his own Omega pheromones.

 

A small needy whine escaped him when Yoo Joonghyuk dove in to capture his lips.  When he felt the hard press of [41] against his back, hands gripping his thighs, he knew he was already lost.

 

Kim Dokja licked along Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips, demanding to deepen the kiss.  But then Yoo Joonghyuk pulled away, a palm at the nape of his neck directing him to meet the Alpha’s gaze.

 

“Protection?”

 

It took Kim Dokja a moment to navigate past his pounding instincts, and when he understood the question he answered.  “I’m on birth control and heat regulators.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, accepting that answer.  

 

It was [41] who ran his tongue along the edge of Kim Dokja’s ear before telling him that they were taking rut-control.  

 

And, [41] being the ever considerate Alpha, asked him if he would be okay if they fucked him without a condom, because he had this urge for the past week to mark Kim Dokja with his scent — with his seed — and, after they finished pumping him so full, maybe he could wear a plug so it wouldn’t drip everywhere.  

 

By the end of it, Kim Dokja was already submerged in the haze, arousal pooling low in his belly, barely gasping out a “ Yes ”, before he reached for Yoo Joonghyuk to bring his mouth closer.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was just as impatient, their kiss turning rough and wet, all teeth and saliva and tongue. 

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk started licking and nibbling his way down his neck, a hand in his hair turned his head towards [41], who licked into his mouth only to separate when they removed Kim Dokja’s shirt after only unbuttoning a few buttons.

 

He felt Yoo Joonghyuk sink down in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down, stripping him completely, but only to just above his knees, trapping his thighs together.

 

Kim Dokja had an inexplicable urge to see what Yoo Joonghyuk looked like on his knees in front of him, but the hand in his hair prevented him from pulling away from [41].

 

So when he felt Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath puff over the jutting head of his cock, he couldn’t help the involuntary shudder that rolled through him.

 

“Good Omega.  You’re already leaking so much.”

 

And he was.  Kim Dokja could feel his hole twitching and the wetness of slick sliding down his thighs.

 

A tongue lapped over the head of his dripping cock, before swallowing him down, the warm, wet suction causing his hips to jerk involuntarily.

 

[41] shifted him, moving his hand to gently but firmly hold the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck, pulling him back to rest against [41]’s shoulder, while [41] started nipping and licking any part of Kim Dokja that he could reach.

 

The feel of fingers lightly circling his hole made it flutter and twitch.  When a gush of slick trickled out, multiple fingers pushed in, the momentary burn of the sudden stretch quickly replaced by a simmering pleasure as the fingers pumped into him.    

 

Kim Dokja hadn’t realized how much more sensitive he could become with the effects of their mixing pheromones and saliva igniting the heat that raced through his veins.

 

So, it didn’t take anything at all to make him climax with his cock surrounded by Yoo Joonghyuk’s hot mouth and his hole stuffed so full.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stood, still looking unruffled, like he hadn’t just let Kim Dokja cum in his mouth.  

 

And when Kim Dokja looked at him with half-closed eyes, mouth open and panting, his body still trembling from such a quick rise to ecstasy, Yoo Joonghyuk fed him his own cum, making him whine and his hips twitch, tasting himself directly from his Alpha.  The mixture of cum and his Alpha’s saliva was like nothing he had ever tasted, greedily swallowing it down, igniting a warmth beneath his skin.  The drag of the fingers leaving his sensitive hole made his knees buckle suddenly. 

 

Seeing how he was clinging to [41] for support, his Alphas took mercy on him, lowering themselves to the padded floor, stripping off their clothes along the way.  Kim Dokja found himself facing [41], his mouth so close to [41]’s cock that it was so easy to reach out for it and steal a taste, a soft groan leaving him as he cleaned the tip with his tongue before mouthing down the shaft, [41]’s hand returning to grip his hair.  He felt Yoo Joonghyuk placing soft kisses along his spine, hands gripping his hips to lift them up, nudging his knees together.

 

And with arousal running so potently through Kim Dokja, it felt so natural to arch his back just so, causing Yoo Joonghyuk to groan from behind him.  “Are you presenting for me, Omega?”

 

A drunken smile pulled at Kim Dokja’s mouth as he gasped out a breathy response against 41’s cock.  “Yes, Alpha…”

 

“Do you want my knot that badly?”

 

“ Please, Alpha …”

 

[41] hummed and spoke from above, his voice deepened by lust.  “Doesn’t sound very convincing to me… Maybe we should make him cum a few more times.  Just to be sure.”

 

Then, before Kim Dokja could beg or plead or convince them otherwise, [41] filled Kim Dokja’s mouth with his cock, holding him there, while fingers pushed into him from behind.  The sounds were lewd, slick squelching out and running down the back of his thighs when Yoo Joonghyuk unerringly found his prostate, probing it relentlessly.  

 

However, Kim Dokja was not used to this level of sensitivity — the cock felt heavy in his mouth, pressing the continuously leaking taste of [41] against his tongue, Yoo Joonghyuk behind him, both stretching him open and overwhelming him with focused stimulation.  Even the thought of being caught between his Alphas, stuffed from both ends — he came instantly, shouting around the cock in his mouth, the orgasm rolling through him like a wave.

 

Just how his Alphas wanted him to.

 

“ Good , Dokja-yah.  Just like that.” [41] praised.  “Now, do it again .”

 

And he did, losing track of how many times they made him cum, holding on to [41]’s thighs while [41] used his mouth as a cock-warmer, the velvet-coated steel pulsing whenever Kim Dokja moaned.  Yoo Joonghyuk switched between massaging his walls and spreading him wider, until Kim Dokja was a shaking mess — cum puddled below him and slick coated his legs, pooling at the back of his weak knees.

 

Kim Dokja could feel tears trailing from the corners of his eyes as [41] gently guided his mouth off of his cock.  He vaguely noticed how glossy [41]’s cock looked, with so much wetness dripping down its shaft, coating his balls, a thread of saliva briefly trailing from Kim Dokja’s mouth as he was pulled off.  

 

Then, [41] gently guided Kim Dokja up for a kiss, one hand still in his hair while the other helped to support his softened waist.  He reached up to cling onto [41] as he was still shaky, still in the haze, still sensitive after climaxing so many times.

 

He felt the warmth of Yoo Joonghyuk behind him, before he felt something smoother and rounder and thicker pressing against the sensitive skin of his slick hole, pushing in as a seductive voice in his ear whispered, “Such a good Omega deserves to be fucked and knotted, don’t you agree?”

 

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk pressed in at a steady pace, torturously carving out a space for his cock inside of Kim Dokja, sliding in against oversensitized walls that were still quivering.

 

And, even though Kim Dokja knew how ‘it’ worked — was used to the feel of being stretched open using dildos when handling his heats alone thus far — he still didn’t feel prepared enough.  Yoo Joonghyuk was definitely bigger than what he was used to and was hitting places inside him that he had never felt using toys alone.

 

His senses were so overwhelmed that he momentarily pulled away from [41]’s mouth, babbling out irrational nonsense like “ W-wait —“ and “ Slow d-down —“ and  “ It won’t fit ”.

 

Which, if he were thinking rationally, he would know that, of course it would fit — his body was made to take something much thicker — like an Alpha’s knot .

 

[41] being such the good, understanding Alpha he was, gently hushed him and tenderly wiped away his tears while saying things like “ You’re taking it so well ” and “ Just a little more ”, as Yoo Joonghyuk continued to invade him.

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips were pressed flush against him, he felt So. Fucking. Full .

 

He could only stare dazedly at [41], his jaw slack, gasping roughly, his hole rhythmically clenching around the thick rod stuffed into him, the seal so tight he couldn’t tell if he was still leaking slick or not.

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk started pulling out — just as slowly as he had been pressing in — until just the tip of him was left inside Kim Dokja.  There was a pause, a brief reprieve, before fingers dug into his waist a little harder.  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, his voice more animal than human, “Ready, Dokja-yah?”

 

Kim Dokja barely nodded before Yoo Joonghyuk slammed back into him.  He was already so sensitive , his body already teetering on a knife’s edge, that the feeling of being filled so quickly made him cum immediately.  And the sight of his cum spattering his Alpha — marking [41], claiming [41] as his — only prolonged his ecstacy, while Yoo Joonghyuk continued to fuck him through it.

 

He drowned in the pleasure-pain, becoming so focused on the sensation of being reamed by Yoo Joonghyuk — by his Alpha — that he started sobbing.

 

“Ngh— Yes, harder, more, please —“

 

“Do you want my knot, Dokja-yah?”

 

“Yes, yes, please— I need it so badly —uh!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him up, arching Kim Dokja back into his chest, his pace getting faster, the new angle making everything deeper, and bringing Kim Dokja close enough that it allowed Yoo Joonghyuk the chance to growl silkily against his ear, “Beg me properly, Dokja-yah.”

 

“J-Joonghyuk-ah— Ngh— Alpha, please k-knot me—“

 

There was a rumble of approval sending an electric shiver down his spine, before Yoo Joonghyuk said, “Such a good Omega slut .”

 

And just the way he said it — dripping with praise and approval and a tiny bit of sweetness — made Kim Dokja want to please his Alpha more .

 

The base of Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock started getting thicker, at first popping in and out, stimulating the sensitive ring of his hole.  He was already so worked up, whining wantonly, babbling and begging, winding him up higher and tighter.  In the next moment, he could only open his mouth on a silent scream, his orgasm slamming into him so intensely that he blindly reached to grab onto something — like [41]’s hand and the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck — while he clenched down, squeezing Yoo Joonghyuk’s inflated knot, locking them together, keeping him filled.

 

He vaguely heard Yoo Joonghyuk snarl as he felt himself being pumped full with his Alpha’s warm seed.

 

For a moment, they kneeled there, connected and panting.

 

In his daze, Kim Dokja offhandedly recalled that the amount of time an Alpha’s knot took to release depended on a combination of the Alpha’s stamina and stimulation by the Omega — as long as the Omega kept milking their Alpha’s knot, then the knot may not deflate for… a while.

 

As Kim Dokja’s vision cleared, warm contentment sluggishly flowing through him, [41] was still kneeling in front of him, looking at him with a satisfied smile on his face, his cock still hard and erect, precum leaking from his tip.

 

Kim Dokja whimpered when Yoo Joonghyuk’s knot rubbed a particularly sensitive spot inside of him when he bent down to take [41]’s cock in his mouth.

 

[41] groaned, long and loud, and said.  “So obedient .  Good Omegas get to cum again, don’t they, Joonghyuk?”

 

Kim Dokja trembled when Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands returned to grip his waist.  Yoo Joonghyuk growled out words laced with approval and renewed arousal.  “Are you a knot-whore, Dokja-yah?”

 

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk rolled his hips, rubbing more roughly, more directly over that previously-undiscovered sensitive spot, making Kim Dokja mewl around [41]’s cock.  It didn’t take long for the frenzy to return, euphoric numbness spreading beneath his skin, building up to another climax, while [41] started fucking his mouth — rough and dirty and sloppy, like when Kim Dokja had thanked him for the courting gift.  He was still stuffed full with Yoo Joonghyuk, who continued rolling his hips, increasing the pressure, pleasure arcing through his overworked body.

 

[41] started pumping faster, almost as if he could feel Kim Dokja teetering on the edge, the Omega’s wordless moans vibrating against [41]’s cock, begging for something to push him over.  

 

So, when Kim Dokja heard [41] moaning out words like “ So greedy ” and “ You look pretty like this ”, it took very little to topple Kim Dokja into a rolling, never-ending climax when [41] said, “Swallow it all, like a good Omega .”

 

And he did.  He swallowed.  Every.  Last.  Drop.

Chapter 17: The Chef

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[81] had decided to cook breakfast — he looked out of the bright living room window — well, now lunch — for Kim Dokja, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous about being left alone with their Omega.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had left the nest during the early morning hours to report to ERS, while [1864] and [666] returned to the house for training and a few game matches.

 

[81] had volunteered to stay.  And — he sighed, he really couldn’t lie to himself about this — after last night, he was feeling a tad bit greedy, wanting to spend more time with Kim Dokja to figure out how, or if , a relationship would work out between them.

 

When Kim Dokja stayed at their house, [81] had mostly cooked meals with Kim Dokja in the kitchen.  Yet, because their kitchen was such a communal space, [81] hadn’t had the chance to truly spend any “alone time” with Kim Dokja.  

 

It wasn’t that [81] wasn’t interested in Kim Dokja — quite the opposite actually, if the night spent in the nest was anything to go by — but spending time with Kim Dokja when it was just the two of them was important for him, too.

 

Especially since [81] couldn't see why Kim Dokja would have any interest in him .  

 

Kim Dokja was an avid reader — more suited to someone like [1863] — who worked as a rather important figure in a small gaming company — more suited to someone like [1864].  And, as they found out, he was the adopted son of Hades and Persephone — both prominent celebrities in the world of big business as the co-founders and co-owners of ‘Darkest Night Enterprise’ — a world that Yoo Joonghyuk or [41] or [666] were more used to. 

 

A world that [81] didn’t feel entirely comfortable in. 

 

Then, here was Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts, without any knowledge about their past or where they came from, with only their skills being anything of note to their notoriety.

 

It wasn’t that [81] thought themselves to be lower or less than or unworthy because of social status or anything so… superficial.  He had traveled the world enough to know that value was found in so many other things.

 

No, it was that, seeing the facts laid out like this — granted there was definitely much more to Kim Dokja that they still didn’t know about — it was difficult for him to see them on the same level — difficult to see how they could ever be worthy enough to stand in the same place as their Omega.   

 

It was well known that Omegas had their pick of partners, since their society placed so much value on their fertility and rarity, so it was a surprise — that ignited all of their possessive Alpha instincts — to find Kim Dokja was a single, unmated Omega. 

 

[81] wondered what Kim Dokja saw in them — that he would take a chance on them, offering up the honor of being the very first Alphas — the first pack — that Kim Dokja had ever been with.

 

[81] knew from experience and from watching those he’d been around that typical relationships formed from scent-matching and pheromones, and sometimes even compatibility between a guide and an esper.   

 

But they hadn't started with any of that with Kim Dokja.

 

Heck, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t even detect Kim Dokja’s scent — or even that he was an Omega — until he was allowed to scent mark him.

 

However, [81] wasn’t a fool.  

 

There was definitely something between them.

 

It was an ungraspable, undefinable thing that reminded [81] of that moment of waking up from a dream so visceral that a piece of it sticks — a piece of it fits — but if he examined it when he was fully awake, he couldn’t explain why it fit so well — only that it just does .

 

Like inevitable fate — a thing that he both awed and despised.

 

The beeping of the code entered into the door lock echoed softly, interrupting his silent contemplation.  A mixture of relief and… something else swirled through him when he recognized the Beta that walked through the door.

 

A familiar Beta who also recognized him… although not entirely.

 

“…Yoo Joonghyuk or…?”  The Beta asked, uncertain.

 

“[81].”

 

The Beta grinned bashfully, his aura regaining his previous joviality, as he stepped into the kitchen, placing the bags he was carrying onto the counter.  A quick glance into the bags showed stacks of containers of pre-made meals that one would only need to reheat when ready to eat.  When the Beta turned around to stuff the various containers into the open fridge and freezer, [81] noticed how… comfortable the Beta was in this space.

 

“What brings you here, [81]?”

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Ah, yes.  He has that effect on a lot of people.”  The Beta answered, sounding like he understood.

 

「Now, what exactly did that mean?」

 

A feeling that [81] didn’t immediately recognize surged through him, briefly there, then gone.  He had never truly felt it before, not even with his previous relationships

 

It made him think. 

 

Kim Dokja had said they were his first serious relationship, the first Alphas he had ever been with.  Of course, Kim Dokja was also an adult Omega that had likely gone through many heats.

 

When taken apart, that could also mean that, without the help from Alphas, Kim Dokja could have had sex with other Betas.

 

So then.

 

Was this Beta — who knew the code to Kim Dokja’s place — who was so comfortable entering Kim Dokja’s kitchen — one of those Betas?

 

It definitely took [81]’s thoughts to a strange place — a place he rationally knew was made up of double-standards — that he and Yoo Joonghyuk and the other counterparts most definitely had sex and relationships with other Betas and Alphas before this. 

 

So why was he getting irrationally jealous of the ‘ maybe-they-had-sex ’ Beta — or even just the idea that Kim Dokja had been with others in such a way — provoking his Alpha instincts?

 

It could have been that [81] was acquainted with this Beta, had traveled for a time with this Beta.  A Beta who shared the same interests of food and cooking as him — and was familiar with this Beta’s tendency to party hard and celebrate even harder, especially when it involved multiple people and multiple orgasms.  

 

And, although [81] hadn’t participated, there were many days after where this particular Beta was not shy about sharing his exploits.

 

So, [81] wasn’t really sure what it was that made him feel so jealous.  What he was sure about was that it made him unimaginably possessive — wanting, no, needing to sink his teeth into Kim Dokja’s skin for a more visible, permanent claim —

 

“Dionysus-ssi?  Ah, I forgot you were coming by today.”

 

Kim Dokja walked into the kitchen dressed in [1864]’s hoodie and a loose pair of sweats, his hair sticking up in all directions.

 

It kind of made [81]’s thoughts skitter sideways into darker places — wondering if [41] actually did make him wear that plug —

 

[81] shook himself.

 

He couldn’t help but feel a hint of posturing pride when Kim Dokja approached him first, nudging [81]’s arm so he could tuck himself into his side, [81] naturally pulling him closer as he sat on the bar stool.

 

Dionysus finished putting away the pre-prepped food and turned around to face them, his eyes widening in surprise to see them stuck so close together.  But, Dionysus was Dionysus, and he quickly recovered to say, “No worries, Dokja-yah.  At least you're eating the meals I give you.”

 

Kim Dokja laughed nervously.  “Well… that…”

 

He sighed and scratched his cheek.  “Gilyoung and Sooyoung usually end up eating them…“

 

It was Dionysus’ turn to sigh.  “Are you still living off that convenience store stuff?  You know you can afford better.”

 

He waved to the restocked fridge.  “You know I prepare better food.  Free for you, I might add.”

 

Kim Dokja just smiled.  “I know.  It’s not that I’m not grateful.  Thank you for taking care of me.”

 

“Bah.”

 

“He cooks you meals?”  [81] asked.

 

And maybe there was an edge to his voice, he couldn’t really tell, but Kim Dokja squeezed in closer to [81] before speaking.  “Dionysus actually works at my parent’s house as their personal chef and as the company’s catering organizer.”

 

There was a fondness in his voice when he continued.  “He’s been preparing our meals ever since he started working there.”

 

Dionysus’ expression turned sly.  “It looks like you’ve got your own personal chef now, though.”

 

The comment made Kim Dokja sputter and spit out words like “ That’s not why we’re dating ” and “ We’re still figuring it out ”, which, [81] thought in the Omega’s defense, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

 

〈It was just that an unreasonably impatient part of him wished they weren’t right .〉

 

Especially with Dionysus being Dionysus and continuing to provoke him.

 

Dionysus smiled kindly at Kim Dokja before saying, “Did you tell’em yet that you don’t like tomatoes?”

 

「Was that true?」

 

[81] thought back.  A few dishes they made had tomatoes in them, but Kim Dokja hadn’t said anything about it.  He glanced at Kim Dokja, but instead of the usual shy smile, the Omega looked a bit pale and nervous, his lips tilting up, his expression strangely stiff.  “No.” Kim Dokja sighed.  “I didn’t think it was important.  My tastes can change, you know.”

 

Dionysus looked at Kim Dokja knowingly, before he directed at [81], “Unless you watch him like a hawk, 24/7, there are some things you have to pry out of him.”

 

Then, Dionysus added, “I bet Dokja-yah didn’t tell you I used to talk his ears off about you when I was cooking them food, did he?”

 

[81] narrowed his eyes.

 

「...Did he now?」

 

[81] wondered what... things were said.

 

There was a short silence before Dionysus rapped his knuckles on the counter.  “Well, I have other places to see, other people to be.”

 

And, before walking out, he reminded them about the dinner planned for that weekend with Kim Dokja’s parents.

 

In the relative quiet left behind, [81] and Kim Dokja just looked at each other, studying each other.  

 

《Still trying to figure out how to be with each other.》

 

Kim Dokja seemed to grow more uncertain in the silence and tried to step away.  He didn’t get very far, [81] pulling him in tighter, holding him closer than he had dared to do before.  And, as he continued to study Kim Dokja, he asked what he thought was the simpler question.  

 

“You don’t like tomatoes?”

 

Kim Dokja bit his lip before shaking his head once. 

 

“Why not?”

 

Maybe it wasn’t such a simple question.  Kim Dokja swallowed roughly, a hint of old pain entering his gaze.  “I, I…” Kim Dokja visibly gulped before continuing.  “I was bullied when I was younger… Sometimes tomatoes were the weapon of choice…”

 

It was a good thing [81] held Kim Dokja in his arms, practically drowning in his scent, reminding him —  grounding him — otherwise he would have been out of the apartment, hunting down whoever it was that would have done such a thing to their Omega — to his Omega.

 

He knew that he wasn’t as good with a weapon as Yoo Joonghyuk or [999] or any of the others.

 

However, he definitely knew his way around a knife and could filet anyone six ways from Sunday.

 

He had done it before when someone dared to poison his food.

 

Kim Dokja must have been more in tune with them than [81] had thought, because the Omega gently reached up, pressing a soft hand against [81]’s cheek.  “It was a long time ago.  It’s not worth the effort to chase down old grievances.”  

 

It was so easy for [81] to turn into that hand, brushing a light kiss against Kim Dokja’s palm, before grasping it gently with his own hand.

 

Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t have an ulterior motive.

 

He just didn’t want Kim Dokja to run away so easily when he asked, his question perfectly reasonable, his tone innocuous, “Did you have sex with Dionysus?”

 

Kim Dokja inhaled quickly, his eyes widening in surprise, as his cheeks instantly turned bright red.  “No! T-that’s… why would I?”

 

[81] simply nodded, finding that this was an acceptable answer, then commenting lightly.  “He seemed interested.” 

 

“W-what?  We were never like that!”

 

[81] just looked at Kim Dokja, his expression calm.  “Did you know that, in some places, it’s typical for an Alpha to feed an Omega as a sign of intention?”

 

During his travels, there was a rural village that [81] had come across.  It was an old village that had preserved the same traditions for over five centuries, not yet entirely modernized.  It was there that he learned, whether they be an Alpha, Beta, or Omega, when someone was interested in another, they would announce their interest by offering food.  If more than one suitor was interested in the same person, then it became a competition to see who that person would accept the food from.  But, if that person accepted the offered food from multiple people, then it meant they intended to take more than one mate.  

 

Which wouldn’t be an issue if, say, they were already a pack, or if they were already closely involved.  However, if the opposite were the case…

 

“Do you intend to accept Dionysus as a part of your… pack, as well?”  [81] asked as he leaned in, running his cheek against Kim Dokja, not-so-subtly scent marking him.

 

Kim Dokja gasped out a “ No ” when [81] decided to lick a broad swipe over Kim Dokja’s scent gland.

 

When the taste hit his tongue, it reminded [81] about his earlier conundrum — of how there was that indefinable, indescribable thing connecting him to Kim Dokja.  

 

He took another swipe, pulling another breathy gasp from Kim Dokja’s mouth.

 

And the flavor seemed more concentrated, somehow more uniquely discernible.

 

He took another swipe, finding that he was quickly getting addicted to the taste — already addicted to the novelty of having Kim Dokja in his arms.  

 

[81] vaguely felt Kim Dokja’s fingers digging into his shoulders, and he thought that the taste was starting to remind him of a feeling he had long forgotten — that sense of wanderlust and wonder with the world, hungry for all of the flavors it had yet to offer.  

 

It reminded him of that undiscovered something and the passion to get out there to search for it.

 

Contrarily, it reminded him of the thrill of finding that undiscovered thing, after searching for so long, after all of the efforts put into it — the wanderlust and wonder finally lulled to a quiet peace where one realizes how far they’ve come and all of the things that were unearthed.    

 

And maybe, whatever this was between [81] and Kim Dokja, would always be like this — undefinable, something new and unknown.

 

《Something they would keep on discovering together .》  

 

[81] held Kim Dokja for a moment longer, giving them both a chance to calm down, before pulling back.  He took Kim Dokja’s face in his hands, tracing his cheekbones with his thumbs.

 

“Let me cook something for you.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled at him shyly.  “No tomatoes?”

 

[81] felt the corners of his mouth tilt up.  “No tomatoes.”

 

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They had moved to the living room after cleaning up, and ended up watching trash TV with a few cooking shows in between — where, [81] noticed, Kim Dokja found it more entertaining to watch [81]’s facial expressions than the actual cooking.

 

Kim Dokja had just asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner that night, when his phone started ringing.  [81] quietly watched as Kim Dokja checked the caller ID before answering.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah?  Have you finished work?”

 

There was a pause, and as Yoo Joonghyuk was supposedly speaking, Kim Dokja stood, blindly grabbing [81]’s hand, pulling him as they walked towards Kim Dokja’s room.  

 

When they stepped into the veritable library, Kim Dokja put the call on speaker while they walked through the maze of shelves, searching through the spines of books.  Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice spilled out, sounding somewhat tinny through the speaker.

 

“Have you heard the tale of the ‘Wenny Man’?”  

 

Kim Dokja answered absently, seeming distracted as he hunted for a particular book.  “Yes, I’m very familiar with that particular story.”

 

There was a pause before Kim Dokja reached out with surety, extracting a book that looked nearly ancient.  Its spine crackled when it was opened and Kim Dokja carefully yet quickly flipped through the pages before he stopped on an illustration.

 

[81] noted that the image was more of a sketch, rough lines forming a shadowy outline of a house in the wilderness.  He could just make out the humanoid silhouette of a person and a fuzzy creature with multiple horns crowning its head standing side-by-side.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed inattentively, too busy scanning the page that was opposite of the illustration.  [81] was surprised to see that the text on the page was unrecognizable to him.  If he tried to make sense of the shapes, it made him feel… abnormal — like he was sliding sideways in between the lines and curves.

 

He quickly looked away — looked at Kim Dokja’s face instead, focusing on his features, trying to anchor himself back to this reality.  When he was still having trouble shaking off the disorientation, he buried his nose in the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck, inhaling deeply.  

 

A hand ran soothingly through his hair.

 

It seemed that Kim Dokja possessed many other [Reading] abilities.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

“Ah! Sorry, Joonghyuk-ah.  Was there something specific you needed about the ‘Wenny Man’… or is it the Dokkaebi you're curious about?”

 

[81] could imagine Yoo Joonghyuk clenching his jaw, before speaking.  “You knew?”

 

“I had a feeling.”  Then, Kim Dokja mumbled, his attention still captured by the page he was reading.  “They have a long, tragic history with each other.”

 

“…”

 

A different voice suddenly came through.  “Dokja-ssi?  Could you tell us more about the ‘Wenny Man’?”  Yoo Sangah asked, sounding calm as usual.

 

Kim Dokja wore a thoughtful expression, closing the book softly and sliding it back onto the shelf.  

 

“I think it would be best if we speak in person about this.”  And his voice carried such a grave seriousness, that it made [81] wonder just what they had all stumbled into.

 

“Ah, I understand, Dokja-ssi.  We can have dinner at my place tonight, if that works?  I can invite Sooyoung-ssi.”

 

“Yes.  That sounds good.”

Chapter 18: The Boogeyman, Part 1

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Kim Dokja hadn’t a clue how he got into this situation.  Again .  Except instead of Yoo Joonghyuk — who was sitting across from him — and [41] — who was also sitting across from him — it was Yoo Sangah and Han Sooyoung bracketing him between them.  A fluffy, orange-striped cat was curled up and sleeping in his lap.  

 

When they had finished work, they had picked him up from his apartment before walking over to Yoo Sangah’s apartment.  Before they left, [81] had decided to reunify with Yoo Joonghyuk so it wasn’t so crowded, brushing a gentle kiss across his cheek before ‘leaving’.

 

They were just about to sit down around Yoo Sangah’s floor table, when Han Sooyoung came in carrying bags of take-away.  But, as they sat, Kim Dokja was surreptitiously maneuvered between Yoo Sangah and Han Sooyoung.

 

Although it wasn’t readily apparent, he thought that [41] looked slightly disgruntled by the current situation — the situation where Kim Dokja wasn’t in easy reach.  

 

Well, Kim Dokja was slightly disgruntled by this, too, as he was already so used to being near them by now that it felt… unnatural to be in the same room sitting across from each other.

 

He also couldn’t stop thinking about what they had done in his nest the night before.  The mere thought of it all made him want to reflexively arch his back, and it made him wonder when they could do it again — 

 

So, maybe it was good for them to be separated.  

 

「For now.」

 

Still, when Yoo Sangah had invited them all to eat, Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had looked at the take-away with the same narrow-eyed glare before saying they would eat later.

 

Han Sooyoung opened her mouth, likely to ask what was wrong with the food, but was interrupted by Yoo Sangah, who said it was ‘Fine’ .  

 

Then Kim Dokja found himself sitting between the two as they looked at each other, the feel of unsaid [Words] buzzing past him quickly, while he tried his utmost to not [Read] any of it by starting in on his food.

 

It was a relatively quiet meal, small talk being exchanged as they ate, until Yoo Sangah had brought out bottles of soju to share.

 

He debated at first, if he wanted to drink or not.  But it was decided for him very quickly when Han Sooyoung started with —

 

“So.  Is it an official thing?  You and Yoo Joonghyuk.”  She smirked.  “You and all of the other… ‘Yoo Joonghyuks’.”

 

Kim Dokja quickly finished his first glass, before placing the empty cup down, and squeezing out a strangled “ Yes ”.

 

However it was worth it, he found, to see the look of approval and a little bit of pride on his Alphas’ faces.

 

Han Sooyoung glanced between them, calculating, before finishing her own glass.  She smoothly refilled both of their glasses.  Then she gave Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] a hard stare.  “Is it… a serious ‘thing’?”

 

“Sooyoung-ah—“

 

A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped his protests, and Kim Dokja turned to Yoo Sangah, who also wore a serious expression.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk, not intimidated in the least, simply answered with his own “Yes”.

 

Han Sooyoung’s expression turned sly.  “For just you… or…”

 

It was [41] who answered.  “Whether it is or not...”  He leaned forward intimidatingly.  “It’s none of your damn business .  It’s between us and Kim Dokja.”

 

A warm feeling unfurled in Kim Dokja’s chest upon hearing those words.

 

Yes, that was right — whatever this relationship became, it was just between them — not something that needed to be explained to anyone else.

 

〈Not something for entertainment or consumption by others.〉

 

Han Sooyoung narrowed her eyes at [41], before finishing her next glass.

 

And in the silence, as Kim Dokja sipped at his glass until it was finished, a palpable tension began filling the space between them.  He debated whether he should keep drinking or not.

 

But then Han Sooyoung was already refilling his cup, and as he continued to gather his courage to answer the question that he could just see hanging in the air, he slammed back two more glasses — and possibly the remainder of the bottle.

 

〈Because the story he was about to tell had an edge to it that would cut both ways.〉

 

Needless to say, Han Sooyoung had confiscated his glass after that, sticking a lemon candy in his mouth in exchange, while [41] wore a slightly worried expression and Yoo Joonghyuk looked like he wanted to reach across the table and drag him over it.

 

Yoo Sangah opened with the question they were gathered here to have answered.

 

“Dokja-ssi, can you tell us about the ‘Wenny Man’?”  

 

A question that appeared to be simple on the surface — if only it weren’t for the fact that it was a [Story] so old that it was nearly forgotten by everyone… except for Kim Dokja... and one other.

 

The original [Storytellers] had long since left their reality, and the [Story] had fallen nearly to nothingness.

 

Until it was found again one day.

 

“What I am about to tell you can never be spoken again outside this place.”

 

Kim Dokja looked at each of them, imparting the serious gravity of the situation.  Only after he had received their acquiescence, a [Wall] began to form, building up around them, seeming to trap them in, but really it was —

 

“This will help to keep the [Story] from escaping.  You see, it has a certain… power…”

 

He was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and the world seemed to hold a softer edge in his vision.

 

Yoo Sangah wore a concerned expression when she asked.  “Dokja-ssi… is this something you should be telling us?”

 

And as she spoke, different colors flashed sharply, like sparks igniting in the air around her.

 

Instead of answering, he asked, “Is there a dokkaebi nearby?” 

 

By the looks on everyone’s face, the question seemed to confuse them.

 

But it wasn’t confusing.  It made perfect sense to him, so it should make sense to them, too, right?

 

Then he remembered that they didn’t know — and he had to try to keep his thoughts straight.

 

So he asked another question.  “Do you know how a dokkaebi is born?”

 

Han Sooyoung, who was also just this side of drunk, poked his cheek while saying, “No.  Please enlighten us, dear [Reader].”

 

Kim Dokja nodded drunkenly.  “Dokkaebis come from what are called ‘seeds’. But the Dokkaebis themselves don’t even know how these ‘seeds’ are formed.”

 

“How do you know that?”  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, his expression blank.

 

But Kim Dokja had been studying that face for weeks now, so he noticed the slight furrow between Yoo Joonghyuk’s brows.

 

“Of course it's because a dokkaebi told me.”  

 

The sparks flashed brighter than usual everytime ‘dokkaebi’ was spoken.  He shook his head, trying to shake off the daze of the afterimages.  “But that’s not important.  What’s important is that the [Story] of the ‘Wenny Man’ started with the birth of a dokkaebi.”

 

And he told them the [Story] he had read from the book he found.

 

《A “book” that had decided to follow him home.》  

 

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It was understandable that the Dokkaebis had forgotten such a [Story].  It wasn’t an origin story for the dokkaebi as a whole and it had happened such a long time ago — similar to how it was unknown to them how the Dark Fault came to their dimension.

 

However it was the origin story of their king — a dokkaebi who had already chosen to leave this reality.

 

《Without leaving behind a successor.》

 

「But that was a different story, for another time.」

 

So, although they had forgotten their part in the [Story], the Dokkaebis made sure to remember their visceral hate for the ‘Wenny Man’.

 

Now, Kim Dokja didn’t quite understand how the Dokkaebis had forgotten a [Story] so thoroughly, given the nature of a dokkaebi, but he had a feeling that it had to do with the absence of both of its [Storytellers] from this dimension.

 

It could also have been due to the legacy that was left behind by the Dokkaebi King.  

 

If he hadn’t found the book during his time in the Dark Fault, he would have been just as unaware of this [Story] as everyone else.

 

And, if he hadn’t been a [Reader], he definitely would have lost his mind — possibly even his soul — reading that book while sitting in that old house that he had stumbled upon while wandering the forest.

 

Because that “book” contained the [Core] of the [Story] in its entirety.  So when it began telling its story to him, its power — its probability — was so potent, it felt as if it had been imbuing Kim Dokja with its essence, very nearly possessing him — very nearly devouring his own origin [Story].

 

It was good that he hadn’t found the book alone, that he had his own dokkaebi-companion to accompany him — to anchor him and allow Kim Dokja to regain his bearings, to regain his sense of [Self] — and engage the [Story Control] technique that he had been developing.

 

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“You had a — hic — dokkaebi with you? How’dya manage that?  They usually don’t associate with ‘our kind’…” Han Soonyoung asked, her words a little slurred at the edges.

 

Yoo Sangah also seemed to agree with the sentiment when she added, “It’s been so difficult to get them to work with us… Or for them to give us any information on this case at all.”  She looked down at her glass mournfully.  “It’s like working with a foreign government or something.”

 

She further explained, “The only reason we heard anything of the ‘Wenny Man’ was because a mid-grade dokkaebi let it slip.”  

 

Kim Dokja tilted his head, deducing exactly who that mid-level dokkaebi might be.  Then, he measured his next words carefully.  

 

He had always felt that his history was similar to that of the Wenny Man’s history.  Same as the Wenny Man, Kim Dokja had witnessed the birth of a dokkaebi while sitting in the dark, musty shadows of his old apartment.

 

The apartment that he had wanted to visit one last time alone before heading into the Dark Fault.

 

《The apartment where he had murdered his biological father.》

 

However, he didn’t want to explain all of those things, especially when it meant he had to once again tell the [True Story] — he blearily glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] — who both watched him patiently.

 

「Always so very patient with him.」

 

…He wasn’t ready yet.  

 

So he simply said that this particular dokkaebi was a friend that followed him into the Dark Fault.

 

Then he said, “And tha-that’s not — hic — the right question.  The question should be who was the ‘Wenny Man’?”

 

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In fact, the ‘Wenny Man’ had once just been a human.  The ‘Wenny Man’ was a name that the dokkaebis had bestowed upon him out of spite — because, in the eyes of the dokkaebi, if a thing isn’t given a proper name, then it meant less than nothing.

 

Now, it was assumed that the birth of the Dokkaebi King was during a time long before there were Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, long before the formation of the Dark Fault — maybe even before humans had developed any esper or guide traits in their DNA — if there even was such a time.

 

So the Wenny Man had been a very ordinary human, without any abilities, who was down on his luck, having lost practically everything.  He had just been wandering through the woods one day, when he found an old cottage.  The old cottage looked abandoned, dilapidated and falling apart, so the Wenny Man had invited himself in thinking that maybe he would get lucky and find something worth scavenging that would make him extremely rich.

 

As he was looking through the cottage, its old floors soft with rot in some places, the inside was practically bare with very little furniture.  There was even less in the cupboards, where he only found a few rations of dried meat and very old crusty bread.

 

Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and finders were keepers, so he took the rations for himself, storing them in the pockets of his stolen coat.

 

Initially, he had thought that the cottage was so small that it was only made up of a single shared space, but as he exited the kitchen, he noticed another door on the far wall from him.  Even though he figured it would just lead him back outside, he walked towards it anyway.  Surprisingly, the latch was still intact and the knob turned smoothly, even though it did take some effort to get the door to unstick and swing open.

 

Where he found a different type of treasure.

 

Rows and rows of bookshelves filled with books lined the walls of the room, with many more stacks of book towers littering the floor.

 

But all the Wenny Man could think of was how the room was much larger than the main room of the cottage, and what a waste of space it was for this larger section to be filled with such useless things.

 

〔Of course, he only thought that way because he had yet to learn the value of a [Story].〕

 

However it would be taught to him in the most unconventional way. 

 

As he started searching between the book towers, he had knocked over a few stacks, causing dust to puff up, clouding his vision and making him sneeze uncontrollably for a few minutes.  

 

When he could finally get himself to stop sneezing and the dust had finally re-settled, he looked down and was surprised to find something had dropped at his feet.  

 

Although it was shaped like an egg, its outer shell was anything but.  It sparkled with an opalescent sheen of greens and blues and pink and he had stared, captivated by its luster.  

 

The Wenny Man bent to pick it up, thoughts of greed running through his head, but when his hands touched the egg, a wave of dizziness overcame him and his thoughts soon turned murky.

 

He felt the weight of the egg in his hands become lighter, and through his blurring vision, he could just make out a soft glow emerging from it.

 

He blacked out shortly after that — for how long, he didn’t know — but when he regained consciousness, it was to see himself lying on the floor of the library with a ball of black fluff lying on his chest.

 

It was a good thing that he was still weak, for he would have immediately brushed it off, but as he stared at it for a moment longer, the fluff had moved, rolling over until a pair of white, glowing eyes met his.

 

Being that the Wenny Man had known nothing about this creature, he wasn’t sure whether to be scared or curious.  

 

But, as he was growing up, he remembered seeing his mom feeding the stray cats and animals in their neighborhood — a neighborhood he would never return to ever again — and thought that this was similar.  

 

So he pulled out a few pieces of the crusty dry bread and offered it to the ball of fluff, who only looked at it curiously before losing interest in it.

 

He thought maybe the thing didn’t know how to feed yet, so the Wenny Man broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth before chewing and swallowing in an exaggerated fashion.

 

However the ball of fluff just kept staring at him, its eyes wide.

 

The Wenny Man also tried to use words like “eat” and “food”, but it didn’t seem like the fluff understood his language.

 

So he looked around at the shelves of books, finding a small section that had to do with cooking.  

 

He pulled a recipe book that looked to have many pictures in it, and flipped it open, the fluff sitting on his shoulder, as he started pointing to pictures and saying words that would explain them.

 

But, eventually, the Wenny Man started to notice that although the pictures stayed on the pages, the words were slowly fading, disappearing as if they were never there to begin with.  

 

He immediately dropped the book, hearing a muffled thump as it hit the floor, while looking at his hands in panic.  However he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

 

Hesitantly, he pulled another book off of the shelf, flipping it open to see that it was filled with words.  

 

And, hesitantly, he tried again, explaining the pictures and recipes. 

 

But, just like before, the words started to fade.

 

Then, as panic was setting in, he heard a voice.

 

“Why are you showing these things to me?  Are they really that interesting?”

 

This time the Wenny Man threw the book into the air in fright.  He quickly spun around, searching for where the voice had come from.  

 

“Ack!  Don’t move so quickly!”

 

It made the Wenny Man freeze, and he slowly turned his head to look at the fluff on his shoulder.

 

Which no longer looked like fluff, but instead like a fuzzy, furry creature with arms and legs — and claws — and a single ivory-colored horn protruding from its head.

 

The Wenny Man didn’t know what to make of this creature.  

 

And so he fainted.

 

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“This… ‘Wenny Man’ seems to have a pretty weak… constitution…” Yoo Sangah commented, uncertainly.

 

And all Kim Dokja could think was ‘ she doesn’t know ’ — because if she did, she wouldn’t have considered such a thing in the first place.

 

“Yeah… from what you were saying before— hic— this ‘Wenny Man’ or whatever sounded like a boogeyman or something.”  Han Sooyoung added.

 

But he was .  The Wenny Man was exactly that.

Chapter 19: The Boogeyman, Part 2

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When the Wenny Man regained his consciousness, there was no ball of fluff lying on his chest.  He thought that maybe what he had seen before was all a dream.

 

But when he turned his head, he saw the hunched back of the furred creature, its size slightly bigger than what he remembered, reading yet another book, flipping through its pages at a rapid speed, then shutting it and setting it aside for another book.

 

It must have noticed that he was awake, because it looked up at him, waving around the book it had just grabbed, and spoke.  

 

“I can see why you were showing me these things.”

 

The Wenny Man watched the creature, noting that it started to glow again when it returned to its reading.  There was something about that glow that drew him in, and he slowly and cautiously crawled over to the creature.  He didn’t have a chance to see what the book was about since, by the time he reached the creature, all of the words had already disappeared.  

 

So he asked, “What was this one about?”

 

The creature turned to him and smiled, showing just the edge of pointed teeth, before it reached out a clawed hand, palm facing up.  With a bit of hesitation, the Wenny Man placed his hand into the offered palm.  In the next moment, he felt a wave of warmth engulf him, the scene around him changing, transitioning into something else.

 

He didn’t immediately recognize where he was, but he was quick to note the veritable mountains of gold around them, with jewels of all colors scattered like trash on the floor.

 

The Wenny Man could barely hold back his greed.  He bent down to grasp handfuls of jewels at his feet, feeling a slight bite as the edges pressed into his palm, and stuffed it into his coat pockets manically, before grabbing a handful of gold and stuffing it in another pocket.

 

The creature didn’t say a word, just looked at him oddly, wondering why he would do such a thing.

 

It was then that the Wenny Man felt vibrations roll through the floor beneath him.

 

An ominous feeling slowly started working its way through his veins, as the vibrations were becoming more frequent and more violent, rattling the jewels on the floor and causing the piles of gold to slide and skitter.

 

So when the snout of a giant, scaled creature was seen, followed by a silver, glowing eye, the Wenny Man was well and truly frozen, unable to move, terrified of being discovered, rooting him to the spot.

 

Which was silly, since he just stood in the middle of everything like a statue that didn’t belong.

 

Through the haze of fear blanketing his brain, as he looked at this monstrous creature, he was able to form a single word.

 

〈 Dragon. 〉

 

Or what he thought a dragon would look like, after being inundated with so much imagery of dragons for most of his life.

 

The dragon had most definitely noticed their presence by that time, and its lip started to curl, a menacing growl rolling out, as it specifically noted his pockets were bulging with handfuls of its hoard.

 

His own creature whispered to him, “Return it and it will leave us alone.”   

 

And so he did, dumping out his pockets.  

 

However, the dragon still wasn’t appeased as smoke started drifting from its nostrils.

 

“Let’s leave before it decides to kill us.”  The Wenny Man said hurriedly, looking at the furry creature with pleading eyes.

 

The dragon let out a roar so loud that it shook the area, and a renewed fear skittered down his spine.  He felt an oncoming wave of heat, noting how the gold nearest to the dragon was starting to liquefy.

 

“Please!” He shouted again.

 

The furry creature looked at him, seeming to weigh him, before it nodded its head.  

 

And just as they returned to the library, he had felt the brush of flames lick the edge of his coat, leaving the smell and burnt edges as the only evidence that they had ever been to that other place at all.

 

〈Well, aside from the few jewels and pieces of gold that he had kept.〉

 

When he pulled the treasures out of his pockets, the creature’s face scrunched up in anger as it yelled,  “Why did you do that?  Why didn’t you just leave it like I asked?!”

 

The Wenny Man simply answered, “This is the currency we use in this world.  We can use it to survive here.”

 

Although the furry creature wasn’t entirely happy with his reasoning, it could understand that survival was important.  And, since it didn’t know anything about this world, it would trust this human on this matter.

 

Plus, it was feeling slightly weak, not having enough energy to argue, as it yawned wide and curled up on the floor to sleep for a time.

 

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“Is that all the Wenny Man was?  A measurement of greed for our species?”  [41] asked, his expression incredulous.

 

Kim Dokja thought — yes, on the surface, the tale of the Wenny Man did seem that simple.

 

However, through the haze of the alcohol rushing through his veins, he felt the claws of that greed, the [Story] starting to dig into him , turning his thoughts to mush as searing pain surged through him.

 

But he was used to this type of pain.  He just made sure that it didn’t show on his face as he continued.

 

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For a time, the Wenny Man and the creature continued going on adventures, devouring the many different books, experiencing each and every story together, while taking the treasures and riches that each one offered.

 

And everytime they would return to the library, the creature would feel exhausted.  So, the Wenny Man would tell it to rest while he made trips to the outside world, taking the treasures with him.  Yet, he would bring back very little, always promising the creature that they would soon leave this cottage, reassuring the creature that he just needed more time to prepare.

 

Until, one day, the Wenny Man had returned.

 

Except this time, he had brought with him another ‘egg’.

 

Of course, by this time, the creature was much bigger and taller than it used to be, seeming more humanoid, if it weren’t for the fur still covering its body and the multiple horns on its head and the very sharp teeth that flashed when it spoke.

 

But it was the first time the creature had started to feel something he had never experienced before when it came to the Wenny Man.  It was a feeling he had only seen described in the many books they had journeyed through.

 

It was a feeling that started to grow the more the Wenny Man spoke — explaining how he had stumbled upon the ‘egg’ as he was looking through another abandoned house and just thought that, what if they had another companion, someone to help ‘carry the load’ when going on their adventures.

 

And, oh look at this, he even brought more books back with him, too.

 

However, the creature had been letting itself get fooled for sometime now — letting itself get reeled in by the pretty promises and words of the Wenny Man — holding on to the feeling that, one day, they would explore the outside world together.

 

〈Ignoring the possibility that maybe the Wenny Man was tricking it, stringing it along, to sate his ever-present greed .〉

 

So, the creature finally asked the question it had never asked before.

 

“Why don’t you tell me your story, this time?”

 

The Wenny Man paused in his excitement, looking at the creature.  He laughed nervously before joking, “Why do you want to know that?  It’s definitely not as interesting as all of these books, that’s for sure.  We can just go through one of these new ones I brought.  Let’s see…”

 

But this time the creature would not let itself be swayed.  

 

Because, as it looked at the ‘egg’ clutched in the Wenny Man’s hand, this time, it thought, it had another to worry about.

 

So as the Wenny Man was still distracted, the creature reached for the ‘egg’, snatching it from the Wenny Man’s hand.  It grabbed the Wenny Man by the collar of his coat and started to dig through the Wenny Man’s head.  

 

〔Figuratively of course.〕

 

And what the creature found there… It soon became disgusted with itself — for letting itself be fooled for so long, for thinking that the Wenny Man had actually been its friend — its companion — so that it would never be alone in this world.

 

It found that it was egregiously mistaken.

 

— And so ashamed at naively thinking that the Wenny Man had found any value in the [Stories] themselves.

 

Because, the creature had come to realize, the [Story] of the Wenny Man had started long before he had met the creature.  

 

It had started in a house in the suburbs, where the Wenny Man had tortured and killed the many cats that his mother had so lovingly been feeding.  

 

Then, one day, his father had made him so enraged — because he was tired of being poor and not being able to get the things that he wanted — that he killed his father, too.

 

〔And found that he liked the taste of it.〕

 

His mother followed shortly after.

 

The Wenny Man knew he would eventually be caught by the authorities, so he packed what little he had and left. 

 

Until he found himself in the same predicament — with nothing to his name, jealousy and envy burning beneath his skin as he watched others from afar — with only himself to blame.

 

But he already had a plan for that.

 

As he trekked through the wilderness, always on the move, he would always find some secluded cabin or other in the woods or vacation houses at the edge of the woods.  Breaking in was easy, and living off the amenities even more so, before moving on again, making it a rule not to stay in one place for too long.

 

And, for a time it worked out fine. 

 

Until he had broken into a cabin one night to find it occupied.

 

It was only one person, he reasoned.

 

It would be so easy, he thought.

 

And he couldn’t help but give in to the urge that had been simmering inside him for sometime now.

 

So he followed that urge, let it lead him, and he found that it was easy because it was only one person, weaker than himself, and she was oh so perfectly vulnerable.

 

Then, to make it last longer, the Wenny Man did every depraved thing he could think of — tearing her [Story] into tiny, little pieces while savoring every bite, until it was completely devoured.

 

The creature watched as one [Story] consumed another [Story], and it could not help feeling conflicted — both captivated and disgusted — realizing that they had been doing the same thing , the proof of their actions emphasized by the graveyard of empty books piled up around the library.

 

〔But what had affected the creature the most was what came after.〕

 

As the Wenny Man continued moving, continuing to consume [Stories], he eventually came across this very cottage, looting it like he did all of the rest.

 

But then he stumbled upon the creature’s ‘egg’. 

 

If the creature hadn’t been born — hadn’t proven its worth — it would have ended up just like those other [Stories] before him.

 

Then, the creature soon realized the sentiment remained the same.

 

The creature had thought its relationship to the Wenny Man had meant more — that they had been creating something together, only to find out that the Wenny Man had really only been using it as a tool.  

 

It became so enraged — so hurt by this betrayal — that it lashed out at the Wenny Man.

 

“Since you like consuming [Stories] so much, here, why don’t you have more.”

 

With the creature’s growing abilities, it started to feed the [Stories] to the Wenny Man, ignoring the pathetic pleas as the Wenny Man begged and begged for the creature to stop, that he was ‘Sorry’ .  

 

But the creature didn’t stop as more and more [Stories] streamed into the Wenny Man until his cheeks became so stuffed, they started to inflate, becoming lumps that hung from his face, filled with all of the [Stories] he was forced to eat.

 

In a state of panic, the Wenny Man began to beg more frantically, promising that they would continue their adventure in the outside world, that they were truly friends.

 

However, the creature knew more than anything one simple fact.

 

【A [Story] couldn’t lie.】

 

The Wenny Man’s pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears, the creature no longer enamored by the Wenny Man’s promises — no longer interested in his [Story].  

 

But it couldn’t bring itself to destroy yet another [Story] — especially one that it had known since its birth.

 

So, instead, the creature had imparted these words to the Wenny Man.

 

“You will forever live in the space between, neither here nor there, always watching from the side, but never able to step in — never able to step past the edges.”

 

Those were the last words the Wenny Man ever heard as the creature pushed the Wenny Man into the space between.

 

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The [Words] hung in the air, casting off sparks.  Kim Dokja noticed through his pain-filled haze, that his own mind was starting to slip.

 

“So… the Wenny Man really is the boogeyman.”  

 

And, as expected of Han Sooyoung with her quick-witted logic, as both an author and a detective — able to fit the pieces together with very little evidence — she concluded, “Is he trying to get back to this reality or something?”

 

It was a definite possibility.  Wouldn’t that be something that anyone would want after being trapped and caged for so long?

 

It would also be a very dangerous thing if the Wenny Man ever returned to this reality, since his time in the ‘In-Between’ most definitely changed him with all those [Stories] stored in his lumps.

 

But Kim Dokja couldn’t answer.

 

And it didn’t take long for them to notice.

 

“Dokja-ssi?”  Yoo Sangah looked at him, growing more and more worried as his lip started bleeding with how hard he had bitten into it.

 

He couldn’t move — couldn’t speak — to let them know that he was okay, that he just needed a bit of time to gather enough [Words] to patch up his internal wounds and stop the bleeding left behind by the [Story] of the Wenny Man — as it had been trying to use him as a medium to rip open a door into their reality.

 

He was reminded of how his abilities could sometimes be a double-edged sword.

 

〈He would have to learn how he could make the [Wall] much, much thicker .〉

Chapter 20: The True Story

Notes:

Warning:
Brief mentions of traumatic experiences such as domestic violence/abuse and suicide.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

It was the first time Yoo Joonghyuk had ever experienced waking up from being elbowed in the chest.

 

So it took him a moment to orient himself, the residual pain radiating from where he was hit was fading quickly as he tried to focus on what he was seeing in front of him.

 

Which happened to be a flailing Kim Dokja, obviously panicking and trying to break free from between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had carried Kim Dokja to his nest after he had lost consciousness.  

 

At the time, Yoo Joonghyuk had also noticed the various cracks that had been spreading through the [Wall], chipping away at its integrity.  But since Kim Dokja hadn’t mentioned anything and hadn’t thought it important to point it out to them, Yoo Joonghyuk had thought it was fine.

 

However what Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t realized — which he was angry at himself for not noticing sooner — was the unseen mental strain it had been putting on Kim Dokja — who he was also angry at for taking so many risks without informing them of the dangers first.

 

Although his instinct was to pull Kim Dokja closer, he didn’t want to harm Kim Dokja by restraining him too tightly.  Instead he distanced himself, seeing [41] do the same on the other side.

 

When he sat up on his knees, he was able to get a better look at Kim Dokja, his eyes wide open yet sightless, his clothes sticking to sweaty skin.  His chest was heaving and his breaths were short and quick as if he were running.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  [41] tried, both of them hoping that maybe Kim Dokja was awake and just needed a reminder that they were there — that he was safe.

 

But it didn’t work.  Kim Dokja still lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling while clutching his chest, still unable to take a full breath.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought quickly.

 

It was likely that the ‘Kim Dokja’ that they knew wasn’t in right now, so all that was left was to work with the Omega that was always present just beneath the surface.

 

He could try using his scent and pheromones but it wouldn't mean anything if Kim Dokja could hardly take a full breath.  

 

Purring with this distance between would likely just be a waste of time.

 

So the only thing he could think of was something he had only ever used during his assignments for ERS whenever they encountered an Alpha so unruly that physical force wasn’t enough to get them under control.

 

It was also a calculated risk since they had never needed to see if he carried enough dominance to affect Kim Dokja at all.

 

Still. 

 

「He had to try .」

 

Yoo Joonghyuk opened his Alpha status wide and hoped that with the added attribute as a transcendent esper it would be enough.

 

He did not miss the slight flinch that passed across [41]’s expression at the pressure that filled the nest.

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk did not see any change in Kim Dokja, who was still gasping, unaware that he was no longer in a dream, and he felt a moment of doubt that it would work.

 

There was only one way to find out.

 

【Omega.】

 

His Alpha bark came out stronger than he intended, but it had the desired effect.

 

Kim Dokja’s head snapped to him even though his eyes still remained unfocused.  

 

【Omega.  Calm down.  Breathe.】

 

A short, tight whine escaped from between Kim Dokja’s lips.  He continued to struggle to take a full breath — to obey his Alpha — but he couldn’t quite remember how to breathe normally.

 

【Come here, Omega.】 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk cautiously reached out, gently prying Kim Dokja’s fingers from their tight grip on his shirt and firmly taking hold of Kim Dokja’s wrists as he helped the Omega to sit up properly.

 

With just a quick glance traded between them, [41] moved closer, pressing his chest against Kim Dokja’s back, the vibrations of a low, rolling purr hoping to provide some comfort.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled Kim Dokja into him, positioning the Omega where he would smell his Alpha’s scent the strongest, before ordering him to —

 

【Breathe, Omega.  Breathe deep.】

 

Then Yoo Joonghyuk did the same, hoping that the rise and fall of his own chest could be felt by Kim Dokja, and bring him back from whatever place he was stuck in.  Kim Dokja buried his nose in deeper, his short, hitching breaths changing as he started to mirror Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

They sat in the quiet nest, breathing each other in, the atmosphere seeming to return to a tranquil state.  Yoo Joonghyuk slowly started to reign his status back in.

 

In the calm, it was somewhat of a shock when Kim Dokja whispered into his neck.

 

“When I was a child, I murdered my biological father.”

 

It made Yoo Joonghyuk pause and think, finding that, in all honesty, he had no particular feelings about it one way or another.  He didn’t have a leg to stand on in that regard either.  On a few of his assignments with ERS, he also had to learn how to take a life.

 

The only thing that concerned him was how Kim Dokja felt about it.

 

“My biological mother covered it up by taking the blame.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had no real thoughts about that, too, since he didn’t know — or didn’t remember — what it was like to have parents of any kind.

 

““After she was convicted for my crime — my sin — she wrote and sold a [Fake Story] for money, thinking that was the only way she could support me while she was in prison serving her sentence.”

 

That pulled Yoo Joonghyuk up short.  It was [41] who asked, “There’s a book out there being sold about your crime?”  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk knew there was a bit of calculation going on in [41]’s head — like how fast they could clean it up — and maybe who they would have to shut up — for their Omega.

 

Because he was thinking the same thing.

 

But then Kim Dokja said, “No.  Ever since Persephone and Hades became my caretakers, they pulled all of the copies from the shelves and bought back all of the copies that had already sold.”  

 

He flinched noticeably.  “They sued the publisher for ‘slander’, and a whole bunch of other legalese that I can’t quite remember.”

 

He sighed.  “I was recovering in the hospital at the time, so I don’t know a lot of the details.”  

 

「…」

 

「Did he hear that right?」

 

“You were in the hospital?”  Yoo Joonghyuk rumbled, a hint of censure in his voice that had just slipped through — mostly because why weren’t they informed that Kim Dokja, their Omega , had been hospitalized before?  Was it for something serious?

 

Kim Dokja sighed, taking another deep breath of his scent, before nudging them both.  “Lie down with me.  It may be a long story and — let me change my clothes.”

 

He had taken a look at his sweat soaked shirt and turned around, heading towards one of the walls to open a secret compartment with fresh clothes stacked inside.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had noted [41] opening his mouth — likely to suggest that maybe they didn’t need to wear anything at all, they could just sleep naked — but Yoo Joonghyuk had caught his eye, shaking his head once.  Their Omega would likely be vulnerable enough with whatever he wanted to tell them.

 

When Kim Dokja returned to them in the middle of the nest, it didn’t stop [41] from immediately banding his arms around his waist while burying his face in his chest and pulling them both down to lie on their side — obviously re-marking his scent into the clean fabric.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk blew out a soft breath, used to [41]’s antics by this point, before he slotted in to press against Kim Dokja’s back.

 

And as they once again settled into a relative peace, Kim Dokja began telling his own tale.

 

He told them about living with an abusive Beta father — who never awakened to being an esper or guide — and an Alpha mother who had been hit — and maybe even raped — and was too buried beneath the constant emotional and physical abuse that the only way she could think to protect Kim Dokja was to hide him away in the stories he read behind closed doors.

 

However she wasn’t always successful.  There were a few times where his father had caught him, hurling physical and verbal abuse before his mother stepped in to save him and take the remaining brunt of it.

 

For a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk thought that maybe he should have taught [2] a harsher lesson — but then he remembered how Kim Dokja had questioned Yoo Joonghyuk about [2]’s physical state and promptly told him to let him handle the rest of [2]’s ‘discipline’.

 

Then, Kim Dokja told them how one day his father had snapped, threatening to kill all of them, and the next thing Kim Dokja knew was that his mother was wiping the blood from his hands and reassuring him that she would take care of it.

 

It took less than a week for them to reach a conviction and sentence her to prison, sending Kim Dokja to live with relatives that neglected him.

 

Well, until he received the monies that his mother earned selling the [Fake Story].

 

Yoo Joonghyuk held him tighter as Kim Dokja explained how the publicity from the book had caused the bullies to hound him during school, and the media to hound him when he wasn’t in school, every single day , until—

 

He jumped out of an open window.  

 

Kim Dokja laughed nervously.  “I survived, obviously.  Although I was in the recovery ward for months after that… especially after it was discovered that I was an Omega.”

 

He sighed.  “And… maybe it was the environment or medicines or unbalanced hormones —  or a combination of it all — that pushed me into starting my first heat cycle.  They put me under sedation immediately when it started.”

 

“You… hadn’t known you were an Omega before that?”  [41] asked, not unkindly.

 

He felt Kim Dokja shake his head.  “My mother may have suspected, but… it probably wouldn’t have been safe to leave the house, much less get me to the doctor to get tested and have it confirmed.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted in agreement.  Kim Dokja would likely have been sold by his father the moment they received the official results.

 

Kim Dokja cleared his throat.  “I… I may have shared the same recovery room with you while I was healing from my injuries…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk tried to think back to when that could have been. The only time he was in the hospital was after Urielle had found him in his old apartment…

 

「Had Kim Dokja been in the recovery room with them?」

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s memory was blurry from that time, but he thought that he would have at least remembered Kim Dokja. 

 

Even though he wasn’t looking directly at Yoo Joonghyuk, it was almost like Kim Dokja could feel the gears turning in his head as he said, “I wasn’t in the same room as you for long.  Hades and Persephone had moved me to a private room.”

 

“But I still remember watching them wheel you and [Zero] and [41] into the room.”

 

Then… that meant…

 

〈Kim Dokja had seen them when they had been at their worst.〉

 

A tranquil silence followed.  And, although Yoo Joonghyuk had a feeling there was much more to be said — more to be learned — about Kim Dokja, he thought it was something they could continue to take their time with.

 

Of course, [41] had other ideas.  

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed sleepily, sounding as if he was starting to drift off again.

 

“When is your next heat cycle?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt Kim Dokja stiffen for a moment, before he relaxed again.  Even though Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t see his face, he knew Kim Dokja was likely blushing. 

 

“U-um…it should be sometime next month— why do you ask?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk buried his nose in Kim Dokja’s neck.

 

“Will you let us help you through your heat?”  He asked, his voice noticeably suggestive and possessive.

 

He felt Kim Doja swallow roughly, before wheezing out a quiet “ Yes ”.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded.  

 

“Sleep, Kim Dokja.”

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

The next few days were uneventful, which felt like both a good and a bad thing.

 

The morning after Kim Dokja’s nightmare, Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had left the nest after being called into ERS.  [2] and [1863] had decided to stay with Kim Dokja in his apartment — with the warning that they stay out of Kim Dokja’s room — especially his nest — unless they are invited in by their Omega.

 

Just because Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] had been allowed in, didn’t mean that his remaining counterparts got a free pass.

 

〈They would have to try to earn their own invitations.〉

 

Yoo Joonghyuk tried not to get too frustrated that they hadn’t found any leads regarding the spontaneous riots.  Mysteriously, the riots had stopped happening entirely after their team was pulled from the crowd control.  He couldn’t help the slight worry that had been creeping in, old paranoia pointing to a sign that something bigger and worse was going to happen.  But there wasn’t anything he could do about it — well, unless he struck out on his own, steam rolling over all of ERS’s protocols and procedures and the chain-of-command, to mete out his own brand of ‘detective work’.

 

…Huh.

 

「...」

 

Although the prospect was tempting, he wasn’t ready to burn that bridge just yet.

 

And, even though they had been told about the Wenny Man, they still didn’t know how it related to the case — yet another threat that they had absolutely no other leads on — except for the dokkaebis.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought that maybe they could ask Kim Dokja if he’d be willing to contact his dokkaebi… “friend” — an unfamiliar combination of words that he was not used to hearing together — for more information.

 

They also still needed to get into the houses of the victims as soon as possible —

 

A stack of paperwork landed on the desk across from him.  Flying Fox sat down in the desk chair with a grumbling groan.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t seen Flying Fox for a few weeks now.  He had taken time off after their team had been pulled from responding to the riots.

 

So, when Flying Fox opened his mouth, about to say something, Yoo Joonghyuk had silently started to prepare to ignore the usual complaints about all of the paperwork.  

 

But then, Flying Fox paused.  He inhaled deeply, holding it in for a moment before letting it out.  He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk while wearing a curious yet sly smile.

 

“An Omega, is it?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk knew he should have showered that morning before he left.  

 

After [41], Flying Fox was the next most tolerable partner when on assignments.  

 

「It would be a shame if something were to happen to him.」

 

But before Yoo Joonghyuk could answer, a chorus of pained groans could be heard coming from the hall that led to the training area.  He could see [41] leading the group of new recruits… that looked to have seen better days.  When they spilled out of the hallway, [41] nonchalantly directed them to the medical staff, before leaving them to their own recovery.  

 

Then, [41] directly headed towards Yoo Joonghyuk, unceremoniously dropping a gym bag filled with clean clothes on his desk, and irritably directed for him to —

 

“Go take a shower.”

 

Apparently, Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t the only one feeling possessive about keeping Kim Dokja’s scent all for themselves for as long as they could.

 

“What happened with the new recruits?”  Flying Fox asked while he watched the new recruits limping towards the medical ward.

 

[41] gritted out, “Rehabilitation.”

 

Flying Fox, well used to their type of training by now, just chuckled, “I see.”

 

And maybe Flying Fox did understand — he was the sharpest and slyest and most competent member out of their team, able to read between the lines.

 

But, just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to provide a proper warning.

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk stood, taking the duffle bag with him, he casually confirmed, “Yes, we do have an Omega.  And it would be best for you to forget anything about the matter.”

Chapter 21: The Crouching Figure

Notes:

Warning:
Brief description of situation involving (implied) sexual assault.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Kim Dokja still felt drained after telling the [Story] of the Wenny Man.

 

Even more so after he shared the [True Story] with his Alphas.  

 

Unfortunately, it had put him slightly on edge, since his Alphas hadn’t said a word about it.  Yet it strangely felt more like… acceptance rather than dismissal or disgust — the [True Story] had already happened, and has already become a part of Kim Dokja, so why worry about something that can no longer be changed? 

 

Kim Dokja had asked himself the same question many times before.  

 

And though, logically, he knew such a sentiment wasn’t wrong, it just didn’t feel quite right to him, since his ability would always remind him — the [Stories] would always continue their storytelling — and maybe that was why he still felt uneasy about his Alphas not raising any questions about any of it.

 

He sighed.  He should bring it up to his Alphas later.  

 

But right now, he had other things to worry about.

 

Like the family dinner — that he shouldn’t miss unless he wanted to hear it from both of his mothers and bear the cold silence from his (adoptive) father.

 

Kim Dokja tried to remember the last time he had spoken directly with Hades.

 

Since the first moment he met Hades, he found that Hades was a person of few words, who used them sparingly — and only when they were really important.  Otherwise, Hades was very good at letting his silence and actions speak for him.

 

Kim Dokja was also somewhat relieved that only four of his Alphas would be attending the dinner.  

 

Although, it wasn’t that he didn’t want his other Alphas to be there.  No, it was more like showing up with 1,865 Alphas — some of them he hadn’t even spoken to, much less interacted with — 「Were they even interested in starting a relationship with him?」— would have been a little… much, now wouldn’t it?

 

He could admit, if only to himself, that he also felt a bit…covetous, wanting to keep their developing relationships just between them for a little while longer.

 

In any case, it would already be difficult having his Alphas there to walk through the veritable gauntlet that tonight’s dinner would likely turn out to be.

 

Of course, Yoo Joonghyuk said he would be there because, well, it was Yoo Joonghyuk and it probably wasn’t the first time he had run into his parents — the difference would be that, this time, he was now courting their beloved adopted son.

 

Without question, [41] said he would go, if only just to see where Kim Dokja lived for a time.  It could have also been the fact that no one was ever allowed on the estate that belonged to the owners of the Darkest Night Enterprise.  And Kim Dokja was starting to understand that if there was one thing [41] couldn’t pass up, it was a chance to get exclusive information. 

 

Then, [1863] wanted to go because — if Kim Dokja didn’t mind it too much — he wanted to meet his mother, Lee Sookyung.  He had confessed to Kim Dokja that he had picked up and read the book his mother had written, and, although [1863] understood that it wasn’t the [True Story], he would still like to meet her — the mother of his chosen Omega, who had used stories as both a shield and a weapon to protect the precious things she needed to protect.

 

But what surprised Kim Dokja most of all was [2].

 

A few days ago, Kim Dokja had left his room to find [2] and [1863] sitting in his living room.  When he spotted Kim Dokja, [2] had approached him to request that he also be allowed to attend the dinner.  [2] hadn’t given him a specific reason — and maybe [2] didn’t know why he asked either, from what Kim Dokja could [Read] — but he just knew that he did.

 

Kim Dokja had only studied [2] for a moment, watching him as he fiddled somewhat anxiously with the buckle of his collar, before accepting that he could come.  And, after [2] had nodded and returned to the living room, Kim Dokja stood there, continuing to [Read] the [Words] floating behind him — [Words] that formed a picture of him closing himself off from the rest of the world, unable to figure out how to…reconnect.

 

It made Kim Dokja think that maybe the reason why no one had seen much or heard much about [2] was because he had lost hope in trying to survive in this world after his captivity.

 

That he had decided to abandon it altogether.

 

That, maybe, ever since he had escaped his ‘prison’, [2] had rarely separated from Yoo Joonghyuk. 

 

Kim Dokja thought.

 

「Maybe that was something they could work on.」

 

《Together.》

 

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Persephone had sent a car to pick them up, probably in consideration that there would be five of them coming to dinner.

 

Kim Dokja was also pleasantly surprised when he saw who it was that came to escort them to the estate.

 

“Hyunsung-ah.  Heewon-ah.  It’s good to see you.”  Kim Dokja greeted them as they climbed into the backseats of the SUV.  

 

“Good to see you, Boss.”  Lee Hyunsung said from the driver’s seat. 

 

“Dokja-ssi!  It’s been a while.”  Jung Heewon turned around in her seat, smiling at him.  “When Persephone told us that you’d be returning to the estate, you know we had to take the shift to come and see you.”

 

Her eyes sharpened when her focus turned to the entourage that followed him into the car.  

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi.  [41]-ssi.  And…?”  She greeted, not rudely, but nonetheless distant and  professional.

 

“[1863].”

 

“…[2].”

 

For a moment, Jung Heewon looked at [2] with interest and curiosity, likely because she had never met him before.  If Kim Dokja hadn’t been sitting next to him, he probably would have missed the tension that filled [2]’s body under such a direct gaze — the slight tightening of [2]’s jaw, the reflexive clench of the fists he held in his lap.

 

Kim Dokja casually slid his hand over those fists, soothingly brushing his thumb over the taut skin and muscle, as he said, “Heewon-ah, Hyunsung-ah.  You didn’t have to go out of your way to see me.  Especially when there must be a lot of assignments you need to close-out before your time off.”

 

He offhandedly tried to remember where they said they were going.

 

“Pah.  If not now, then we’d likely never see your face again, Dokja-ssi.”

 

“You hardly stop by the office much, Boss.”  Lee Hyunsung jokes, briefly looking at Kim Dokja in the rear view mirror before returning back to the road.

 

[1863], who was sitting on the other side of Kim Dokja, asked.  “‘Boss’?”

 

“Kim Dokja works at your security firm?”  [41] nonchalantly asked.  He briefly turned his head to glance at Kim Dokja, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

“Hah!  I wouldn’t say he ‘works’ there.”  Jung Heewon laughed.  She looked at Kim Dokja gratefully and added.  “More like Dokja-ssi helped us with the start-up — paid all of our salaries until we could sustain the business ourselves.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked between Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung calculatingly.  “How did you meet Kim Dokja?”

 

Kim Dokja watched as the smile melted off of Jung Heewon’s face, replaced by a hard expression as she narrowed her eyes at Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

It was as if confrontation or a challenge was brewing in the air between them.

 

“We just did.” She answered slowly but firmly.

 

Lee Hyunsung reached over to grasp her hand, squeezing gently.  “We met at a bar that Heewon-ah used to work at.”  

 

“Dokja-ssi found Heewon-ah there first, working behind the bar.”

 

He continued, his voice calm.  “Then he found me when I stumbled into the bar after I was discharged from service.”

 

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Kim Dokja couldn’t quite remember how he had found that bar.  

 

He knew that it had been a particularly rough night for him.  It was shortly after he had left the Dark Fault, still trying to find his feet, still trying to figure out how to live properly in this dimension.  

 

And, he had just finished his heat cycle the day before, but the… hollowness it had left behind was a bit harder to shake than usual.  

 

So, on a whim, he left his apartment, wandering aimlessly, absentmindedly listening to the [Stories] aimlessly floating past him.

 

Until he had caught the tail-end of a particularly interesting [Story].

 

A [Story] that spoke of potential .

 

He remembered following that [Story], unaware of the direction he was going or turns he was taking, to end up standing in front of a flickering neon sign.

 

But really, what had snapped Kim Dokja out of his [Reading] was the commotion he heard in the alley just to the side of the bar.

 

He could just make out a few whispering voices and the sounds of a scuffle.

 

And the muffled cries of a person in need of help.

 

A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered hearing those sounds when he was younger, huddling behind a closed door.  

 

However that feeling was replaced quickly by a slow-building anger — an anger that was aimed at no one in particular yet was fueled by the accumulated injustice that scenarios like this still happened .

 

That there were still people out there that felt so… entitled that they felt they could just take and take and take — without any thought to the consequences of their actions.

 

Kim Dokja inhaled deeply.  

 

He was no longer huddled behind a closed door.

 

〈And, maybe, just this once , he could actually save someone.〉

 

He remembered stepping into that darkened alley, the perpetrators quickly turning to him at the sound of his footsteps.  It only took him a moment to register the situation — four Betas holding a fifth Beta captive, pressing her face into the rough surface of the wall, her skirt already half-way torn — before the bright light of [Electrification] filled his palms, blinding everyone.

 

Then, he moved , taking out the perpetrators in quick succession.  And, although he wished that he could do more, he merely incapacitated them, their unconscious bodies scattered across the dirty alleyway ground.

 

Kim Dokja reigned in his [Electrification] before turning to the remaining Beta, who was leaning against the wall, trying to hold the pieces of her dignity together, staring at him like he was the next threat to be dealt with.

 

It was then that he realized the [Fragments] of the [Story] he had been following had originated from her.  

 

He continued to [Read] those [Fragments], trying to make sense of them, when she spoke.

 

“W-what do you want?  I-I don’t h-have any money…”

 

Kim Dokja just studied her a moment longer, then shrugged off his jacket, offering it to her wordlessly.

 

Hesitantly, she reached out for it, mumbling a quiet “ Thank you ”.  

 

Although, as she tied the jacket around her waist, she still looked at him warily.

 

He simply nodded, accepting her thanks.  He understood that some [Stories] could not be forced — that tugging on them too insistently will only make them curl in tighter — so he thought that it would be best to leave it for now.

 

He thought he would come back another time — because he just couldn’t shake the feeling that the [Fragments] had left him with — that there was something… more to her [Story], yet to be realized.

 

But, as he was about to leave, he felt a slight tug on his shirt, stopping him.

 

Kim Dokja looked back, meeting those blood-shot eyes.

 

However, instead of seeing pain and despondency in that gaze, he found determination with a hint of undirected old anger.

 

“Let me… make you a drink.  On-the-house.”

 

Then, she wordlessly led him into the bar, motioning for him to sit on one of the stools, as she began putting together a simple gin and tonic.

 

Kim Dokja took a cursory look around the bar.  It was in pretty good condition, though it was currently empty, except for himself and the Beta.

 

The muted clink of the ice settling in the glass as it was placed in front of him belatedly reminded him that he probably shouldn’t drink at the moment, the remnants of the hollowness inside him still leaving him with a sense of melancholy.

 

“I’m Jung Heewon.”  She spoke slowly, as if she was… unfamiliar with introducing herself.

 

“I’m Kim Dokja.”  He was not so hesitant since he had no reason to be.

 

And, maybe that helped a little, whether it be reassurance or something else, as Jung Heewon continued to speak a bit more comfortably.

 

“Thank you, again.  Most people wouldn’t have done something like that.”

 

Kim Dokja just shrugged, a small yet kind smile on his face.

 

She started fidgeting with the edge of the towel she used to wipe down the bar top.

 

“W-why… did you do something like that?”

 

He thought.  He could answer her question in many ways, starting with ‘ My mother was sometimes in a similar situation while I was hiding behind a door— like a coward ’ and ending with ‘ I’d like to hear your [Story], if you wouldn't mind sharing it with me ’.

 

But he had to remind himself that he was no longer in the Dark Fault, surrounded by people so used to casually speaking about [Stories], and remember that he was practically a stranger to this Beta.

 

So, instead he asked, “Have you recently awakened as a guide?”

 

Jung Heewon’s hands clenched around the towel and her eyes narrowed.  “Are you a scout for that stupid center that keeps bothering me?”

 

She angrily threw down the towel and put her hands on her hips.  “Let me tell you what I told them.  Fuck. Off .”  

 

Kim Dokja just raised his hands, placatingly, as he shook his head.  “No.  I’m not associated with them at all.  It’s just… your scent…”

 

He sighed.  “It may have been why those Betas were…harassing you.”

 

He cringed.  He hated how much it sounded like ‘victim blaming’, like it was an excuse for how those Betas were treating her.  But, if he was interpreting the [Fragments] correctly, and in consideration of the biology of their species, newly awakened guides had a certain ‘aura’ — a biological indicator to attract and find a compatible esper pair.

 

Her eyes became shaky, her voice slightly disbelieving when she said, “Why would that matter?  I was treated the same before I became a g-guide.”

 

Kim Dokja closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.  “Has their reaction to you always been that… over-the-line?”

 

Jung Heewon’s lip trembled before she bit down on it.  After a moment, she shook her head sharply.  

 

“Has it been explained to you how you have changed…biologically…?”  He asked, not unkindly.

 

She nodded silently, resignedly, her expression slowly changing to one of defeat.

 

Kim Dokja searched her eyes.  “Let me help you.”

 

She hesitated before answering, “... no guiding center?”

 

“No guiding center.”

 

“Then… how can you help me?”

 

That was a little tougher to answer without knowing his full abilities as a [Reader], so he could only ask —

 

“Can you trust me?  Just about this— trust that I can help you.”

 

And, maybe it was because of the emotion behind his words — or the blatant, honest request, without any subterfuge — that Jung Heewon had granted him her trust that day.

 

Then, only a few weeks later, Lee Hyunsung crashed into the bar.

Chapter 22: The Steel Soldier

Notes:

Warning:
Descriptions of violence.

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Unlike Lee Hyunsung’s personality — after they had gotten to know him — he was not introduced to them in a quiet manner.

 

No, instead, he had come crashing in with the fellow soldiers that made up his unit — well, former unit.

 

Earlier that night, Kim Dokja had stopped by to visit Jung Heewon at the bar — it was an unspoken agreement between them ever since Jung Heewon accepted his help.  And since the bar was empty most nights, it was a comfortable place for them to meet to figure out how best Kim Dokja could help her.

 

It had been a typical night, the bar was just as empty as the nights before, with the two of them quietly discussing techniques Jung Heewon could use to better exercise her guiding skills and get a handle on her biology until they could find a more comfortable solution to settle Jung Heewon’s guide instincts.

 

But then, the door to the bar swung open, a group of soldiers stumbling in, already half-cut and smelling of smoke and alcohol, likely coming from another bar.

 

They were definitely rowdy, laughing and talking raucously about how they would “ Miss the protection of their steel shield ”, but really there wasn’t anything to be done about Lee Hyunsung’s release from the army.  

 

They were just following orders from the top, of course.

 

Lee Hyunsung wouldn’t hold it against them, right?

 

While all of this was happening, Kim Dokja quietly watched the lone soldier in the middle of it.

 

He seemed to be in a daze that could have been brought on by the alcohol, but Kim Dokja suspected that it may have been because of something else.  He watched as the soldier’s expression began to change with the careless words that kept getting thrown around — [Words] that were coated in false-sweetness and insincerity.

 

His expression became harder with every laugh, slowly shifting to anger.  Kim Dokja wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him in the dim lighting of the bar, but he swore he saw a reflective sheen flow over the soldier’s skin for a moment before disappearing.

 

He turned to Jung Heewon, about to ask if she had seen anything.  However, Jung Heewon was focused intently on the soldiers, her hand gripping her water glass like she was prepared to use it as a weapon.  

 

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the drunk soldiers to notice their presence.  

 

And, it didn’t take long for one of the Alphas in the group to look at Kim Dokja and Jung Heewon like prey .

 

A few of the soldiers strutted up to the bar.  Even though Kim Dokja paid them no mind, he could feel Jung Heewon becoming more and more tense by the come-ons and coaxing.

 

Still, Kim Dokja ignored them, too busy reading the [Words] flowing off of the other soldier — Lee Hyunsung , he recalled — an understanding forming in his mind, similar to holding a word just at the tip of his tongue.

 

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, the grip tight.  “Hey, you think you can ignore us?”

 

But before he could get a word out in response, the hand was suddenly removed by force, Lee Hyunsung stepping in between them and their harassers.  And it seemed Kim Dokja hadn’t imagined it at all earlier, because Lee Hyunsung was covered in a gray-toned substance that definitely looked metallic in nature.  However, instead of being brittle, he noted that it flexed smoothly with Lee Hyunsung’s movements when Lee Hyunsung stood in a defensive fighting stance and told his ‘fellow’ soldiers to —

 

【Leave. Now.】

 

It was like seeing the last piece slip into place, Kim Dokja’s understanding of the situation almost complete, if it wasn’t for the slight niggling that there was something he was still missing.

 

The other soldiers very nearly ran out of the bar. 

 

Except for one who remained — the Alpha who had grabbed Kim Dokja — wearing an almost sinister smile on his face, filled with a certain anticipation — like this was a fight he had been waiting for.  Without warning, he charged, swinging a fist towards Lee Hyunsung’s head, who ducked at the last minute, ramming his shoulder into the attacking Alpha’s stomach and pushing him back into the tables behind them.

 

At first, it seemed that it was an ill-suited match — the other Alpha had an esper skill that was ice-based — and it became apparent that even though Lee Hyunsung could hit harder, the freezing of his metallic body slowed him down considerably.

 

Yet, as if his own ability were guiding him, Kim Dokja turned to Jung Heewon, stopping her as she jumped up — likely to try to break up the fight — by lightly grasping her wrist and instructing her to —

 

“Guide him.”

 

She looked at him like he was crazy — and maybe like she was regretting ever accepting his help at all.

 

But, his abilities were already speaking for him, building a bridge of [Words] — renewing a pre-existing connection between Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung — a connection that would have already been apparent if not for the distraction of everything else that was going on.

 

The only indication that Jung Heewon felt anything at all was the slight widening of her eyes.  Her head quickly snapped back to watch the Alphas that were still fighting, destroying the remainder of the bar bit by bit, her focus going to one Alpha in particular.

 

Jung Heewon moved a hand out by instinct, a motion like spreading out a deck of cards smoothly on a table.  

 

Kim Dokja could not help but to stare in awe as he [Read] the waves originating from that motion, filled to the brim with Jung Heewon’s guiding intent — her intent becoming reality as the metal coating Lee Hyunsung’s body became molten, wisps of condensation curling from the rapidly melting ice.  A portion of the metal coating Lee Hyunsung’s arm flowed like liquid, the shape of a blade emerging that easily pierced through the shoulder of the opposing Alpha, the blade so hot that it cauterized the edges of the wound when Lee Hyunsung pulled the blade out.

 

Apparently it was enough of a shock to both of them, shaking them out of their frenzy for dominance — one Alpha staring in disbelief at the blade protruding from his arm like an arm guard, while the other Alpha bared his teeth in pain, clutching his wound.

 

Lee Hyunsung quickly recovered first, snarling out a second command for the Alpha to 【 Leave 】, which the other Alpha could no longer rebuff, quickly running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

 

Lee Hyunsung stood in the middle of the chaos, his expression regretful as he surveyed the damage.  Jung Heewon cautiously approached him, lithely stepping over the shards of glass and broken tables and chairs.

 

When she was close enough, she slowly reached out a hand, making Lee Hyunsung pull back quickly, a short warning leaving him that she might get burned — all of which Jung Heewon ignored.

 

Because as her hand touched the flat of the blade, it did not burn her at all — 

 

〈As if she were made to withstand the heat.〉

 

The metal was like putty in her hands when she slowly guided it back, returning the metal to its original state.

 

They stood there, staring at each other.  Kim Dokja tried his best to not [Read] too much into it.  But he must have made a sound that reminded them he was there, since both of their cheeks reddened, quickly stepping back from each other.

 

Lee Hyunsung introduced himself quickly before apologizing profusely for causing so much damage.

 

Jung Heewon stuttered out that it was okay, if he could just help to clean up the mess for now.

 

Kim Dokja could only smile as he watched them awkwardly move around each other, picking up the debris.

 

Until Jung Heewon balefully glanced at Kim Dokja and told him he should help clean, too.

 

Kim Dokja laughed softly as he joined them.

 

And, he couldn’t say what made him ask so boldly, or why he felt he needed to hear it — with the knowledge that asking for such a thing was deeply personal — but Kim Dokja found his curiosity too overwhelming.  

 

So he asked Lee Hyunsung if he would be willing to share his [Story] with them.  

 

Lee Hyunsung had only chuckled self-deprecatingly before he spoke.

 

And as he spoke, Kim Dokja [Read].

 

He [Read] of the life of an Alpha who’s dominance was so intimidating at such a young age, that those around him had tried to stifle him, convincing him that he never needed to think for himself, that he needed to follow the manual and everything would be fine.

 

He [Read] about how an excessively dominant Alpha did indeed follow the manual, so perfectly that he decided that army life was the best fit — the only fit for him, because if he looked anywhere else, he became too lost, too uncertain without a directive to guide him.

 

He [Read] about how this Alpha kept climbing the ranks, the top of his class, excelling in every challenge they dished out and awakening his metal-based esper ability in the middle of rigorous training.

 

〔Until one day he had gone against the manual and was discharged from service.〕

 

But, in between the [Lines of the Story], Kim Dokja [Read] other [Words] that spoke of jealousy and envy that Lee Hyunsung had been unaware of, but was present nonetheless in his [Story].

 

— Jealousy and envy that had stemmed from his spotless record and high scores, so that, when it was discovered that his Alpha status was much more dominant than his superiors, they started to feel threatened.  

 

If this upstart soldier climbed the ranks any higher, their own positions would be threatened.

 

So, his superiors had turned Lee Hyunsung’s unit against him.

 

And, as Kim Dokja absently listened to the conversation as it moved on to other things while they continued cleaning up the bar, it was then that he had started planning.

 

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“Why were you discharged?”  [41] asked, not unkindly.

 

Kim Dokja could see the rueful smile that spread across Lee Hyunsung’s face reflected in the rear view mirror.  “My superiors caught me carrying a spare cartridge in my pocket.  I just didn’t follow the manual closely enough, I guess.”

 

Jung Heewon clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth.  “Your record of service was so damn spotless before that.  They just felt threatened that you would be better than them when you received your promotion.”

 

Which was exactly what Kim Dokja thought when Lee Hyunsung had shared his [Story] with him.  

 

To discharge such an obedient soldier for something so small…

 

But it turned out fine, anyway.  

 

Kim Dokja had helped Lee Hyunsung find his potential elsewhere.  

 

With Jung Heewon’s help, of course.

 

And they made those army superiors eat their words .  

 

〈Many times over.〉

 

“Why did you carry a cartridge in your pocket?”  [1863] asked, his tone curious.

 

Lee Hyunsung laughed nervously, sounding almost self-deprecating.  “I, uh, had lost it once.  And when I found it, I didn’t want to lose it again.”

 

There was a short pause before Yoo Joonghyuk murmured, “They were foolish to let you go.”

 

Jung Heewon looked at Yoo Joonghyuk thoughtfully.  “True.  But now we have SMS.”

 

〔Story Metal Security.〕

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t help the slight blush that colored his cheeks.  He remembered when they were first brainstorming the name they would put on the business application form and he had just thrown that out on a whim.  

 

Although it wasn’t a completely uninspired name.  He recalled what it looked like as he had watched how Jung Heewon’s guiding skills had blossomed — how well it had formed — quite literally — Lee Hyunsung’s own esper ability.

 

And, then they worked the more physical cases for SMS.

 

「When they fought together, it was truly a sight to behold.」

 

Well, Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung had more than just an esper-guide relationship now.

 

Kim Dokja felt his lips tick up, a small, happy smile forming.

Chapter 23: The Dinner, Part 1

Notes:

Warning:
Brief mention of infertility.

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It took them some time to get out of the city due to traffic, then a little further out to the larger, more spacious treks of land.  

 

Kim Dokja recognized the start of the property by the gothic-style fence that marked the boundaries of the estate that were more for decoration than for security.

 

No, the security for the place was the massive, three-headed hounds that roamed the manicured lawn in the front of the property and the clans of ‘giants’ that lived in the forests in the back of the property.

 

Of course, it was rare for anyone to be foolish enough to test the capabilities of the estate’s defenses, if they knew who the owners were.

 

That wasn’t to say that it hadn’t been tested before, but intruders were a rare occurrence.

 

Lee Hyunsung slowly drove past the open gates.

 

It didn’t take long for a cerberus puppy to start following the vehicle — making sure the car followed the road to the main house — its three heads higher than the roof of the SUV and its body about twice as long.

 

Kim Dokja recalled how they had found the first litter of puppies near the edges of the rift of the Dark Fault.  Their mother was found dead nearby, and if Shin Yoosung hadn’t been with him that day, they would have missed the wandering pups that were still blind after just being born.

 

“What are those?”  [2] asked quietly as his eyes followed the pup.  

 

“Guard dogs.”  Kim Dokja explained.  “Family.” He added a moment later.

 

“Dokja-ssi and the children found them when they were searching for bugs…near the Dark Fault.”  Jung Heewon added.  There was a hint of disapproval in her voice, likely because they should have had a protection detail with them — an unbonded Omega and two young children with extraordinary abilities out in the middle of nowhere — which she scolded him for later when they returned, puppies wrapped in soft blankets in their arms.

 

Kim Dokja had given Jung Heewon one of the puppies as a peace offering.  

 

“Why were you looking for… bugs… near the Dark Fault?”  [41] asked, his tone caught somewhere between the same type of disapproval and curiosity.

 

They were approaching the brightly-lit house — a large, U-shaped structure, boasting three floors, and a large front entrance lined with marble columns — when Kim Dokja just pointed to the flat roof of the house that could be seen through the front window.

 

“Gilyoung wanted to add to his collection.”  He explained, as the outline of a giant insect was seen looking down at them from the roof.

 

“You live in quite the… fantastical world, don't you, Kim Dokja.”  [1863] murmured, his thumb rubbing soft circles absently into Kim Dokja’s thigh as he looked outside, an expression of wonder on his face.

 

Kim Dokja watched his Alpha’s expression as he simply said, “Yes.” 

 

Because Kim Dokja had grown up reading many books that described scenes exactly like this — fantastic beasts running wild through the pages.

 

《To see it in reality was like a [Reader’s] dream come true.》

 

So, as he searched [1863]’s expression — [Reading] the wonder drifting around him — Kim Dokja also wondered what it would feel like for an author to see the world they had crafted in ink come to life right before their eyes.

 

He would have to remember to ask [1863] later when they had some time to themselves.

 

The SUV had come to a stop in front of the main entrance to the house, but as the others started stepping out of the car, Kim Dokja stopped [2] by lightly tugging on his hand, while asking the others to give them a moment.

 

Kim Dokja slowly reached up, lightly tracing the buckle of the collar — the metal warmed by the heat from [2]’s body.  

 

Ever since [2] had requested to attend the dinner, Kim Dokja had been thinking about this collar — thinking about what it meant, defining the boundaries and what they would keep only between them.  He didn’t miss the slight shiver that ran through [2]’s body as he continued tracing the edges of the leather, lightly brushing against bare skin.  

 

“[2], you need to be honest with me.” Kim Dokja started, his words laced with that unfamiliar yet comfortable dominance that he was still getting used to when talking with [2] like this.

 

[2] nodded, signaling for him to continue.  

 

“You have a choice.  Do you only want to wear this collar in private?  Or do you want to wear it in public, too?”  

 

Kim Dokja paused.  “Wearing it to this dinner will be like wearing it in public.”

 

[2] asked, with apparent uncertainty in his voice, “What… what’s the difference?”

 

Kim Dokja thought that to even ask such a question that, maybe, [2] had never been given such a choice before.  

 

「Had never been allowed the luxury of choice .」

 

“Well, you’ve only been wearing it in private, in the house — in a safe space — around close family.”

 

Kim Dokja nodded to the house.  “Out there, with others who are not as close is kind of like… a different level of public, but still considered public .”

 

He tapped the buckle lightly.  “To wear it openly is a way to… unknowingly invite others in, unintentionally giving permission to ask out of curiosity — maybe even maliciousness — about… this.”

 

Kim Dokja shrugged.  “You could lie and say that it is for protection — that is what these collars are for anyway.”

 

He met [2]’s gaze, reaching up to lightly run his thumb along his jaw.  “But is that something you want?  To hide what this collar means?”

 

And although [2]’s expression was shaky, he shook his head once, firmly.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, a small, kind smile on his face.  “Good.  I don’t want to either.  Second question.”

 

“Do you want to wear it like this in public? Around your neck?”

 

A faraway look entered [2]’s eyes, his thoughts turning elsewhere.  Maybe he was thinking of before — when he wasn’t asked, always just taken from place to place — a time when the only way to protect himself was to burrow down deep enough so as not to care about thinking about anything .

 

But when [2] looked directly at Kim Dokja, there was still uncertainty in his eyes, still unsure of what he wanted — unsure what it would mean without any frame of reference.

 

Kim Dokja thought, [Reading] the disconnected [Words].  Then he reached up, slowly undoing the buckle.  As the leather loosened, nearly sliding from around [2]’s neck, [2] grabbed his wrist quickly — almost reflexively — a hint of fear glinting in his gaze — 

 

〈A fear that maybe his answer wasn’t good enough, that Kim Dokja would abandon him .〉

 

Kim Dokja smiled at him reassuringly, prying [2]’s fingers off gently, before wrapping the collar around [2]’s wrist and rebuckling it.

 

“We’ll do this for now.  This is not a decision that needs to be rushed.”

 

He leaned forward brushing a light kiss against [2]’s temple.  “The effects of the last lesson seem to have… worn off.  It looks like we’ll have to have another lesson soon.”

 

[2] sucked in a sharp breath.  “I’m sorry.  For grabbing you.  I didn’t mean to—“

 

Kim Dokja hushed him.  “Don’t worry.  I enjoy our lessons, too.”

 

Then, he stood, pulling [2] from the car, [2]’s expression slightly dazed.

 

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Persephone was walking down the stairs from the second floor when they entered through the front door.  Her status, even when only partially open, was flaring like an unseen mantle behind her.  

 

She had always left her status open when she was in her own home, so it was a considerable courtesy to their guests that she had reigned in it for such an occasion.

 

Of course, it didn’t stop Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung from racing down ahead of her, to tackle Kim Dokja.  It was good that [2] was behind him to stop him from falling.

 

The kids were definitely getting stronger by the day.  Kim Dokja figured that their parents would likely start their advanced training very soon.

 

“Oppa, did you see how big Yellowy has gotten!”

 

“Hyung, Titano started laying eggs again!  There’s going to be so many ‘Titanos’ soon!”

 

Shin Yoosung turned her head to give Lee Gilyoung an incredulous look, as both children were attached closely to Kim Dokjas’ sides.

 

“You’re not going to name all of them ‘Titano’ right?”

 

Lee Gilyoung pouted.  “Why not?  It could be like an insect army, you know?  Titano-MK I, Titano-MK II —“

 

“You could give them actual names, like —“

 

“Children.  Let’s take our guests to the dining room.”  

 

Persephone lightly stroked their heads, before gently prying them off of Kim Dokja.

 

To Kim Dokja, she said, “I’m glad you all made it.  Sookyung is running a little late, but she should be here sometime soon.”

 

She gave him a knowing look.  “You should go and get your father.  Tell him the guests have arrived.”

 

Kim Dokja knew what she meant by that.  

 

It had been a long time since he had spoken directly with his adoptive father.  Not to say that there wasn’t any affection between them.  It was more so that they were both similar in nature, and didn’t speak of things that were already understood.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, smiling reassuringly at his Alphas and letting them know that he’d meet them in the dining room and to save him a seat.

 

Then, he turned and climbed the stairs to the second floor, walking down a familiar hallway only to stop in front of a familiar door.

 

The door was given to Hades as a housewarming gift from Metatron, intricately decorated, the lines carved into it forming a picture of five rivers flowing into a single waterfall that flowed off the edge of the world.

 

Kim Dokja knew there was some meaning behind it, but Hades and Persephone hardly talked about their pasts.  

 

「Not since they had shared their [Story] with him.」

 

He knocked loudly — since it was a thick and solid piece of wood — and he barely heard the muffled “Come in” when he put his ear against the door.  It opened easily, regardless of its weight, and the scent of dark places and old books hit him in the face, causing him to feel a comforting warmth with a slight edge of… ‘authority’.

 

And, he noted, the layout of Hades’ study hadn’t changed one bit — filled with two floors of books and ancient texts when looking up high, with the floor below lined with comfortable pillows and nooks that could just be tucked into — which Kim Dokja would know since he had done exactly that many times before.

 

There was only a single, solid desk in the corner to indicate that it was used as a study at all.

 

Kim Dokja recognized another familiar scent.

 

He had not seen his oldest adoptive brother in a while, since he had left the main house to live in an apartment closer to his high school.  He rarely visited the main house, busy with finding his own path in the world.

 

In which Kim Dokja also had helped him with, by introducing him to the Mass Production Maker.

 

“It’s about time you’ve shown up.”  Kim Namwoon said, and although he sounded annoyed, Kim Dokja had lived with him long enough to know that it was not without a little affection.

 

Kim Dokja just smiled.  “Namwoon-ah.  Father.  Sorry if I’m late.”

 

“Tch.  Whatever.  I was just leaving anyway.”  Kim Namwoon wore a disgruntled expression when he explained further.  “Jihye said she wanted to go check out this party by the river tonight.  Didn’t want her to go alone.”

 

Then, almost apologetically, Kim Namwoon added.  “Sorry I’ll miss dinner with… your Alphas.”

 

Kim Dokja just shook his head.  “It’s fine.  You’ll probably meet them another time.”

 

Kim Namwoon looked at him thoughtfully.  “So… it’s serious then?”  

 

Kim Dokja laughed nervously, doing his best to avoid the gaze of his adoptive father.  “Yes… I think so anyway.”

 

“Huh.”

 

Kim Namwoon turned to their father.  “Go easy on them, old man.”

 

Hades just shifted his gaze to look at him, his expression blank and unchanged.

 

Kim Namwoon just grinned.  “Well, I’m outta here.  See you later.”

 

As he passed Kim Dokja, he fondly squeezed his shoulder, and Kim Dokja just caught the edge of wrapped bandages peeking out of the cuff of his sleeve.

 

Kim Dokja sighed, and before Kim Namwoon left, he said, “Stop wasting all of the bandages.  You know Jihye doesn’t care about that, right?”

 

Kim Namwoon froze for a moment.  He nodded quickly and shut the door without a backwards glance.

 

Then it was just the two of them, and Kim Dokja could feel the full weight of his adoptive father’s gaze.

 

And, much like Persephone, Hades very rarely reigned in his own status in the comfort of his home.

 

Although Kim Dokja was already used to it — he had lived with them for most of his life already — there was always an extra edge in his interactions with Hades.

 

〈Hades was also an Omega, after all.〉

 

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The reason why Persephone and Hades were approved as caretakers so quickly was because Hades was an established Omega with centuries of experience to his name.  

 

And, the reason why Kim Dokja had accepted them as his caretakers so quickly was because Persephone and Hades had shared their [Story] with him.

 

He would always remember when he first met them in his hospital room, under the supervision of Dr. Makerfield.  

 

They had approached him without any hesitance and with complete understanding.  

 

It had occurred to Kim Dokja that they may have initially been so open with him because they were centuries old and were powerful beings that had already established their place in the world.  They had nothing to fear from a mere child who didn’t know anything about anything.  He was just a babe in their eyes.

 

However, it was very quickly demonstrated that this was not the case.

 

Persephone had sat at the edge of his bed and stared at him.  Then she gently took his hand, very mindful of the cast plastered around his entire arm, and asked him to share his story with them.  

 

He had never heard the question — the request — spoken so gently, so calmly before, without a hint of judgment or accusation.

 

〈And his heart was already so, so very tired of being alone .〉

 

So, he told them his story from the beginning.  He told them the [True Story], and for the first time he felt the burden of carrying it lessen just a little.  

 

When he was done and completely exhausted, they simply looked at him with eyes that seemed endless and as deep as the darkest depths of the Underworld.  

 

Then Persephone and Hades traded a glance that held an entire conversation before returning to him and explaining why they were there and what their intentions were.

 

At the end of it, the only thing Kim Dokja had asked for was to know their story.  

 

〈It was only fair — a [Story] for a [Story].〉

 

And he knew more than anyone how deeply personal it was to share a [Story].  

 

So.

 

Persephone was the [Storyteller] who told the [Story] for the both of them.  

 

It was a [Story] that Kim Dokja had never heard before, and he couldn’t help but to sink into it as he both listened and [Read] the [Story] as it was told to him.

 

He felt the pain resonate deeply in his chest when Persephone spoke of how their families had abandoned them both to fend for themselves when they wouldn’t bend to the will of their families’ wishes.  

 

He felt the burn in his heart as Persephone explained that their family — her own mother being the main instigator — had betrayed them by forcing [Fate] upon Persephone — a [Fate] that she would forever be unable to carry her own children.

 

He was swept away by the heartbreak shared between Persephone and Hades, for it was always Persephone’s deepest wish to have a child of her own with Hades.  

 

And Hades, who had carried a love so deep and loyalty so bottomless to his one and only bonded mate, would never take another mate nor have a child by another. 

 

The story of Persephone and Hades was not a happy one, filled with abandonment, betrayal, and heartbreak.  

 

They were themes that resonated very deeply with Kim Dokja’s own [Story].

 

But what was left unspoken was that Persephone and Hades, despite the heavy weight of their [Story], had found a way to survive in this world for centuries.  

 

〈And maybe there was hope that Kim Dokja would be able to find a way to survive, too.〉

 

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Kim Dokja would be the first to admit that, at first glance, Hades seemed intimidating and cold.  

 

However Kim Dokja knew — had experienced first hand — the depth of care — the depth of love — that his adoptive father could provide.

 

The edges of Hades’ status brushed against him, a familiar comfort.

 

He was also very familiar with having “wordless” conversations with his father.

 

Like now — like the words they needed to be said could be heard without making a sound.

 

Hades stared at him.  〘Are you sure?  Are they any good?〙

 

Kim Dokja stared back.  〘Yes.  They are very patient with me, even though I still have a few… hiccups sometimes.〙

 

Hades’ gaze turned stern.  〘They better be.  It’s either all or nothing, Kim Dokja.〙

 

Then his gaze grew softer.  〘They can’t just take the good parts of you and ignore the rest.  You deserve better, if they do.〙

 

There was a momentary pause before Hades’ eye twitched.  〘Will you really take so… many of them?〙

 

Kim Dokja shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat.  〘We’re figuring it out.〙

 

Hades searched his eyes for a moment longer, before nodding.  〘We’ll see, then.〙

 

Out loud he said.  “Your mother must be waiting for us.  Let’s head to the dining room.”

 

Kim Dokja also nodded, silently following, as he felt a small smile grow on his face.

Chapter 24: The Dinner, Part 2

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[2] couldn’t remember the last time he sat at a table for a, more or less, formal dinner.  

 

Although he did remember attending formal dinners before… he just wasn’t allowed to sit at the table.

 

He barely suppressed a shiver as the memories from that time were dredged up at the reminder.  He was about to raise his hand to touch his neck, before he stopped, remembering that the collar was no longer there.  Instead, he reached for his wrist, hidden below the table, to finger the edges of the buckle.  

 

Ever since Kim Dokja had put it on him, he had quickly taken to using the collar as a grounding tool whenever his memories decided to haunt him.  For as much as he wanted to spend time with his chosen Omega, he was still adjusting to being separate from Yoo Joonghyuk for long periods of time.  

 

[2] knew that ever since he had left Anna Croft, he had been hiding within Yoo Joonghyuk, finding it easier not to have his own mind — both a crutch and a way to cope with having to relearn how to function in the world free from the… manipulation of Anna Croft and her aspirations. 

 

He would admit that he had still been a bit… feral the first time he met Kim Dokja.  Yet he still understood that that wasn’t an excuse for what he did.  

 

And, he understood that it wasn’t up to the perpetrator to decide when forgiveness is owed .  

 

[2] had initially presented the collar to Kim Dokja because he couldn’t quite figure out how to earn forgiveness no matter how much he thought about it.  

 

「How does anyone find a way to earn such a thing when they feel that they shouldn’t be forgiven in the first place?」  

 

So the only logical conclusion was to give over control — hoping that if he left it in Kim Dokja’s hands, that Kim Dokja would also understand why he felt this was the only way — hoping that [2] was correct in trusting that Kim Dokja would handle him with care .

 

Which, [2] quickly found out, he could .

 

「Kim Dokja could handle him just fine .」

 

He was already looking forward to their next lesson.

 

“Hey, why are you sitting here alone?  Dinner won’t start until Abeoji and Sookyung-eomeoni get here.”

 

Shin Yoosung was sitting in the chair beside him, unnoticed while he was lost in thought.

 

He briefly glanced up, noting that Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] were standing near the drink cart, speaking with Persephone about things he knew very little about.  

 

Or, it was more likely that Persephone was gossiping about meaningless things about the “upper class” — more commonly known as “Constellations” in their society — while Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] were listening, probably asking leading questions for more information.

 

Of course, Persephone wasn’t a fool — she had too many years and even more experience under her belt in such a world — and was probably sending them veiled warnings or even threats wrapped in pretty words.

 

[1863] was standing at the wall on the far side of the dining room, studying the art that was hung there.  One of which was a large painted family portrait, with smaller portraits around it, each depicting a candid scene of each of the family members. 

 

[2] had recognized most of their faces — except for the other black-haired boy, who seemed to be younger than Kim Dokja, but older than Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung.  Although…his face was vaguely familiar...  Was it someone [41] had met? 

 

[1863] seemed to be looking at Kim Dokja’s portrait — a scene in which Kim Dokja had been holding a mug, his smile so wide that his eyes were nearly closed, with just a glint, a spark peeking beneath his lashes, like a star just waking up in the night sky.

 

However, next to his portrait, was another — a photo of his biological mother.  

 

[2] figured that [1863] was studying them both, side by side, blood-related mother and son, searching for hints of one in the other.

 

“Hey, did you hear?”  Lee Gilyoung asked, sounding more curious than sarcastic — somehow ending up in the chair on the other side of [2].

 

And, he was so caught off guard, that [2] simply answered the original question with the most honest thing he could possibly think of.  “I… didn’t know where else to be.”

 

Shin Yoosung traded a glance with Lee Gilyoung.

 

Then, she nodded like she understood exactly what he meant by that.  Surprisingly, she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his seat.  “Come with me.  You can help feed Yellowy while we wait for dinner.”

 

He let her lead him, Lee Gilyoung following behind them.  [2] traded a quick glance with Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] — a warning received from them both to be careful and to not do anything stupid — before heading towards what he discovered was the kitchen, the smells of different foods wafting around.  

 

[81] would love this place , [2] thought, as he waited for Shin Yoosung to dig through one of the many fridges in the space.  Lee Gilyoung stood next to him, and [2] could see him sneaking glances at the desserts that were left out on the counter to cool.  

 

“Eh, what are you doing, Yoosung?”

 

Of course, Dionysus was here.  

 

On second thought, maybe [81] would cause a… ‘scene’ in this place instead, from what [2] remembered of the last interaction between [81] and Dionysus.

 

“Getting meat for Yellowy.” Shin Yoosung called out, her head still buried in the fridge.

 

“Ah.  Here, let me grab it before you mess with the other things in there.”  

 

Dionysus pulled her out, moving her aside, so that he could reach in, having a much easier time reaching to the back of the fridge for the meat.  When [2] took a cursory glance inside the fridge, he noted that it was rather large and quite deep, and filled with many… things he had never seen before.  He thought that maybe [81] would recognize more of it than he would.

 

Dionysus handed Shin Yoosung a large packet wrapped in butcher’s paper, briefly glancing at [2], before waving them out.  “Now get.  I still have to finish up a few dishes.”

 

Shin Yoosung smiled, thanking Dionysus quickly, before taking [2]’s hand and dragging him through what looked like a mud room, then outside to a yard at the side of the house.  The sun hadn’t quite set yet, casting enough light over the lush grass and making it easier to see the — one, two… five? — cerberus that were roaming the lawn, all in varying sizes.

 

A quiet chittering sound was heard coming from above.  [2] look up to see the giant, reflective eyes of the enormous… praying mantis, was it?

 

“Manto.  You shouldn’t be up there.  Eomeoni said she didn’t want any more bugs on the roof.”

 

There was a shift in the air that [2] barely felt before the insect — Manto hopped down from the roof to stand directly in front of them.  Although the insect was tall — it was more than twice his height — the cerberus that was walking towards them was much, much bigger .

 

[2] recognized it as the same cerberus that had been running alongside the car earlier, the long stripe of yellowish fur running diagonally across the top of its body making it look very distinct from the other cerberus.

 

The sound of crinkling paper was heard before Shin Yoosung held out the unwrapped meat to [2].  “Here.  Yellowy is the most gentle out of his siblings when eating.  It should be fine with us here.”

 

[2] stared at the offered meat for a moment, wondering why he had let himself be dragged out here by these children — wondering what he was doing here while Kim Dokja wasn’t here.

 

「No, that wasn’t right.」

 

It was more like why did Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung bring just [2]?

 

He must have been frozen for too long because Shin Yoosung grabbed his hand, placing the meat with the paper in his palm, then guiding him to hold it out as one of Yellowy’s heads dipped down to take a bite.

 

[2] noticed how the pointed canines delicately sheared off a chunk of meat — teeth so sharp that it cut cleanly through — without even tearing the paper beneath.  Then, the next head dipped down and did the same, followed by the last head, finishing off the rest.  The behavior and finely mannered nature was much different from what he had expected the animals to be like, because, although they were likely affected by the Dark Fault, resulting in their three head mutation, they were still generally canines .

 

The first head had been staring at him for sometime now, while he had been feeding the other heads. 

 

Until it bent down to nudge against his shoulder, its head nearly as big as [2]’s body, and he still surprised [2] at how gentle the cerberus was.

 

“He’s asking for pets.”  Shin Yoosung explained.  Then, she gave the cerberus a playful glare before saying.  “Although he knows he shouldn’t beg like that.”

 

Yellowy’s ears seemed to droop, and it made [2] think.  

 

“Does he understand you?”

 

Shin Yoosung’s eyes widened briefly, her expression becoming slightly nervous.  “That…”

 

“Tch.  He’s not stupid, Yoosung.”  Then, as if to make it more obvious, Lee Gilyoung held his hand out to Manto and [2] watched as the insect bent its head, allowing Lee Gilyoung to brush his hand affectionately over it.

 

“Why did you bring me out here?”  

 

Shin Yoosung winced.  “Well… you looked kind of… lost…”

 

“ Really lost.”  Lee Gilyoung glanced at [2], and it was a look that seemed far older than how young the boy appeared to be.

 

Had he really been so obvious , [2] wondered.  The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that maybe the children weren’t that far off.  

 

It had been a long time since he thought about what it is he wants to do in this world.  

 

It had been a long time since he felt that it was a world worth living in.  Aside from Yoo Mia, he hadn’t had much reason for thinking otherwise.

 

Then Kim Dokja stumbled in.  

 

〈And something about Kim Dokja woke him up again.〉 

 

It was just… now that he was awake, it was almost like he had to… find himself, too.

 

Lee Gilyoung took the empty paper from [2]’s hand, and [2] was surprised when it burned to ash in Lee Gilyoung’s palm right before his eyes.

 

Shin Yoosung resignedly sighed as one of Yellowy’s heads leaned down.  She reached out, spoiling him regardless of how she scolded him earlier.  

 

[2] studied the children a little more closely, thinking.  

 

「Did these children hold more than one attribute?」  

 

〈Kim Dokja seemed to not be the only one in this family with special abilities.〉

 

Almost begrudgingly, Lee Gilyoung spoke, interrupting his thoughts.  “We get lost, too, sometimes… without Hyung… wondering what we are doing here.”

 

Shin Yoosung’s expression grew somewhat distressed, and she opened her mouth to say something, but then Lee Gilyoung continued.  “But Hyung once told me that we have to try.”  

 

“Struggle, fight, and keep shaking things up.  Until something shakes out.”  

 

He stopped speaking, and it made [2] wonder what had happened to Lee Gilyoung before he became Kim Dokja’s brother.

 

“We have to try, even if things go wrong.”  Shin Yoosung added quietly.

 

Then he heard another voice, heading towards them.

 

"If you can't find the meaning of life in front of you, then maybe you decide to live for something greater."

 

[2] looked towards that voice.

 

It seemed that Lee Sookyung had arrived.

Chapter 25: The Dinner, Part 3

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They were all seated at the dining table.  Persephone and Hades were sitting together at the far end, and, somehow, it had ended up with Yoo Joonghyuk, [41], [2], and [1863] sitting on one side, with Shin Yoosung, Kim Dokja, and Lee Gilyoung on the other.  

 

Then, there was Lee Sookyung sitting on the other end.  

 

Next to [1863].

 

Seeing her in person, [1863] would admit that she and Kim Dokja looked nothing alike.  He had been comparing their portraits earlier, but he had just thought that the dissimilarity was due to the artist’s interpretation.  

 

It made [1863] think that maybe Kim Dokja shared more of his features with his biological father — a man he had learned to loathe so much it drove him to murder — and what it would mean to see a face that reminded someone of that hatred every day.

 

But maybe that wasn’t entirely true.  

 

As they were eating, and the conversation kept circling to small talk, light topics that didn’t require too much thought, [1863] noted how Lee Sookyung would smile at times — and maybe there was a slight curve there reminiscent of what he would sometimes see on Kim Dokja’s face.  A familiar, serene calmness radiated from her, even as the conversation was beginning to turn more chaotic when Persephone commented —

 

“I’m glad that you all could make it to dinner.  Sookyung-ah, did you know that all these Alphas intend to … court our cute son?”

 

[1863] noted that Kim Dokja nearly choked on his food, before he wheezing out, “Mom —“

 

“Yes, he did mention it to me over the phone once.”  Lee Sookyung responded, unruffled.

 

Kim Dokja looked toward Lee Sookyung.  “Mother—“

 

“Wait.  Hyung, I thought you were just dating —“  Lee Gilyoung paused, his eyes widening.  

 

Shin Yoosung just sighed in exasperation as she looked at Lee Gilyoung.  “I told you.  It’s your fault for not listening to me.”

 

There was a very pretty blush blooming across Kim Dokja’s cheeks before he buried his face in his hands, sighing in resignation.

 

[1863] thought that maybe he could help his (embarrassed) Omega out, if only just a little.  However, Lee Sookyung spoke first.

 

“I feel that I’ve known you for a long time, Yoo Joonghyuk.”  Her eyes scanned sharply over them.  “And your… dependents.”

 

Kim Dokja hissed from between his teeth.  “Mother, that’s rude .”  He scolded sternly, looking at her with slight disapproval.

 

Lee Sookyung smiled placatingly.  “Sorry.  Counterparts, facets, whatever you want to use…   Sometimes you were all my kid could talk about when he visited his mother in prison.”

 

Her smile turned sharper.  “My son always spoke very highly of you all.  And maybe my son does deserve you.  So, tell me.”  

 

She leaned forward, hands folded beneath her chin.  “Why do you deserve my son?”

 

A chill settled over [1863]’s skin.  Although he felt that Lee Sookyung hadn’t intended the question to be cruel, it still cut the same way.  He glanced towards the others, Yoo Joonghyuk wearing a blank expression, while [41]’s expression looked slightly angry.  [2] looked as if he was starting to shut down again, and [1863] slowly reached over, tapping the buckle on [2]’s wrist, a small reminder.  [2] met his gaze, the light returning to his eyes as [2] started fiddling with the buckle below the table.

 

Kim Dokja growled in Lee Sookyung’s direction, hands clenched into fists on top of the table, opening his mouth to say something, but then Yoo Joonghyuk spoke, slowly, carefully.

 

“Why ask such a question?”

 

Lee Sookyung stared at Yoo Joonghyuk, her eyes cold.  “A mother’s responsibility is to control her child if he mixes in with the wrong crowd.”

 

She glanced towards Kim Dokja, her gaze softening.  “Sometimes that means bringing him back to reality.”

 

Kim Dokja inhaled sharply, looking as if he had just been hit, a hidden meaning behind her words that looked like it pained him to hear.

 

[1863] was starting to feel an anger he had not felt for a very long time, not since [2] had ‘returned’ to them from his ‘prison’.  He glanced at Lee Sookyung, her composure still intact, yet he couldn’t help but think that, although she had protected Kim Dokja long ago, maybe even kept in touch with Kim Dokja afterwards, that she didn’t quite understand who Kim Dokja is.  

 

Or, [1863] wondered, was it that she felt the need to make up for lost time?

 

He shifted to look at Persephone and Hades, who sat silently — Hades wearing a stern expression, while Persephone wore a small, sad smile.

 

“That’s not fair .  You don’t get to decide.”  Kim Dokja said.  And, although it was said softly, it was not without conviction, like a period at the end of a statement carved in stone.

 

Lee Sookyung smiled softly.  “You’ve been [Reading] their story for most of your life.  Now that they aren’t just ‘characters’ in a story, shouldn’t they answer a few questions?  Things that you can’t [Read]?”

 

There it was again.  The mention of a past history relating Kim Dokja with Yoo Joonghyuk and all of his counterparts.  Yet, even if they had never explicitly discussed it, [1863] could still read between the lines.  

 

Kim Dokja had never lied to them, mentioning briefly that he knew or heard about them from others.  And it made sense, seeing as they ran in the same circles for a long time, just missing each other every time — with the hospital room, with the Dark Fault, with the gaming industry, even with Persephone and Hades.

 

「However, was there more to it than they were aware of?」  

 

For a moment, [1863] felt the cold fingers of doubt start to creep in, whether it was real or if…

 

「What if Kim Dokja saw them only as ‘characters’, feeling something more like hero-worship than anything more?」

 

But then [2] spoke from beside him, his voice soft but clear.  “Kim Dokja.”

 

[1863] looked up — he couldn’t remember when his gaze sank to the table — and when he saw Kim Dokja’s expression, it made him stand up, already moving to the other side before he could even realize what he was doing.

 

〈But all he could see was Kim Dokja.〉 

 

And he looked so devastated, so scared, and something else that [1863] couldn’t quite pin down, but it still tugged at his chest.

 

Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung were holding Kim Dokja’s hands tightly, trying to provide comfort.  But they were children trying to navigate an ‘adult’ conversation and they could only do so much here.

 

And [1863] couldn’t understand why this had to be brought up now .

 

Maybe Lee Sookyung was trying to… pull [Words] forward — knowing her son’s ability — knowing her son’s passion — not intentionally directing them towards any particular narrative, but planting the ‘seeds’ and seeing where they will grow.

 

And [1863] seemed to be slowly finding out that Lee Sookyoung was…  

 

「A very different type of ‘author’.」

 

When he reached the other side of the table, he gently pulled Kim Dokja from his seat, taking his place, and pulling him back into his lap.  Kim Dokja made a small sound of protest, which [1863] ignored, as a quiet rumble started in his chest.  

 

Shin Yoosung looked at [1863] gratefully, while Lee Gilyoung huffed silently, both children taking Kim Dokja’s hands in their grasp.

 

As Kim Dokja began to calm, his expression relaxing, [1863] couldn’t help feeling a small sense of guilt — how had he let such words sway him?  How had he let a few simple questions shake him so easily that he already began to doubt what they were creating — the [Story] that they were just starting together.  

 

As an author himself, he should know better .  Yes, they had only met Kim Dokja a few months ago, and of course he wouldn’t know everything about them.  If Kim Dokja really thought of them as ‘characters’ in a story, then what about Kim Dokja’s actions thus far — the way he treated each of them — the things he did for them?  

 

「How could he forget so quickly what Kim Dokja did for Yoo Mia?」

 

And, if they didn’t know everything about Kim Dokja, they only had themselves to blame, right?  They had decided not to push too far too fast, giving them all time to find how they fit together.

 

Hadn’t [1863] decided that he wanted to see where Kim Dokja would lead him in their [Story]?

 

Uncaring of their audience, [1863] shamelessly buried his face in Kim Dokja’s shoulder — if only to ease his own guilt, since there wasn’t anything he could appropriately do to comfort Kim Dokja.   

 

「He would have to make it up to his Omega when they get a moment alone later.」

 

“Lee Sookyung.  We don’t think that’s for you to decide.”  Yoo Joonghyuk said, his tone bland, but [1863] knew him well — Yoo Joonghyuk was feeling everything but ‘bland’ right now. 

 

A short laugh burst from Lee Sookyung.  “I’m his mother.  Of course I’ll worry.”  

 

“Of course we’ll protect him.”  Persephone added, her tone gentle.

 

[1863] looked up briefly, seeing Lee Sookyung and Persephone trading a glance before nodding to each other.  They both looked at Kim Dokja apologetically, [Words] that [1863] couldn’t see likely floating around.

 

A long sigh left Kim Dokja, and although he sounded slightly shaky at first, his voice grew firmer the more he spoke.  

 

“T-this is between me and my Alphas.  And, although you are my family — I will always be grateful for the support and care and love — this is not for you or others or for anyone else.  Please .  【Don’t interfere again.】”

 

Kim Dokja’s status flared briefly, before it was reigned in again.

 

[1863] held Kim Dokja a little tighter.  There was a tension that still lingered in the air, no one able to cut through it just yet.

 

Then, [1863] felt a vibration against his leg.  Kim Dokja jolted slightly, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, checking the caller ID.

 

「Predictive Plagiarist」

 

Kim Dokja just sighed, ignoring the call.  But then his phone screen lit up again, with the same caller ID.

 

“Answer it, Dokja-yah.  It’s probably important.”  Persephone said, waving her hand like she was clearing the air.

 

Kim Dokja hesitated briefly before taking the call.  “Sooyoung-ah, I’m a bit busy now.”

 

“Try to get un-busy , then.  We gotta go, Kim Dokja.”

 

Sooyoung was yelling so loudly over the phone that the whole table could probably hear it.

 

Kim Dokja stood, phone at his ear, his expression changing.  “Where are we going?”

 

“New City.  You’re at your parent’s place, right?”

 

Kim Dokja turned to look at the table.  “Yeah, but what’s the rush?  And why are you yelling?”

 

“We’ll be there soon.”

 

[1863] assumed she hung up, when Kim Dokja just looked at his phone with a confused expression.  “Um… Sooyoung-ssi is on her way over.  I’m not sure —“

 

A chorus of howls echoed from outside, followed by the sound of a rumbling engine, getting louder as it got nearer to the house.  Kim Dokja was already hurrying to the front door, everyone else following not far behind.

 

Just as they reached the open door, a sleek, black car was pulling up, Han Sooyoung jumping out before it even stopped moving.  

 

“Let’s go, Dokja-yah — Oh, good, Yoo Joonghyuk, you’re here too.”  She said as she headed towards them.

 

“Sooyoung-ah, what is going on?”  Kim Dokja asked, still looking confused, but his eyes had taken on that faraway look that he gets when he’s [Reading].

 

Han Sooyoung gnashed her teeth, crunching on the lemon candy that was in her mouth.  “Those fuckers — we were able to get the go ahead for searching the house of the first victim.  But when Sangah-yah received the paperwork, it was back-dated, leaving us with a window of only three days to access the site.”

 

Kim Dokja’s expression turned worried.  “We’ll barely have any time with the place.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

It would take at least a day and half to drive to New City, and maybe a little longer to get to the first victim’s address.  

 

Yoo Sangah stepped out of the vehicle.  “We’ll have to leave as soon as we can.”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  

 

“Hey, isn’t that Namwoon-Oppa’s car?”  Lee Gilyoung asked, looking over at the idling vehicle.  

 

Han Sooyoung nonchalantly answered, “Yeah.”  Then she turned to Kim Dokja, scolding him, “Hey, what kind of older brother are you?  Did you know he was at Yuhwa River, with Jihye and a whole bunch of other kids?”

 

「Jihye?  Lee Jihye ?」

 

Sighs were heard in stereo, coming from Kim Dokja, Persephone, and Lee Sookyung.

 

“He said he was going to a ‘party by the river’.  He didn’t specify which river.”  Kim Dokja said in consternation.

 

「The Yuhwa River was near the Dark Fault, wasn’t it?」

 

“What!  I’m the one that told Namwoon-Hyung about the ichthyosaurs that live there!  I can’t believe he went without me!”  Lee Gilyoung pouted, then his eyes widened.  He looked guiltily at Persephone, who returned his look with one of her own.

 

Han Sooyoung grabbed Kim Dokja’s wrist.  “Anyway, we gotta go.  Don’t have much time.”

 

“I-I think I can help with that…”

 

They all turned to Shin Yoosung.  

 

Except for Kim Dokja, [1863] noted, who was looking between his parents’ expressions.

 

There was a pause before, surprisingly, Hades spoke first.  “How long have you been practicing?”

 

Shin Yoosung became even more nervous than before.  “T-that… Well… Over the past year… maybe…?”

 

“How long can you hold it open?”  Lee Sookyung asked, sounding both reproachful and resigned.

 

“Um…”  Shin Yoosung looked towards Kim Dokja with pleading eyes.

 

However, even Kim Dokja looked somewhat concerned for a moment, before he shook it off and stepped towards Shin Yoosung, holding out a hand in offering.

 

“You weren’t supposed to practice without me.”  Kim Dokja scolded softly.

 

Shin Yoosung grabbed for his hand with both of her own, eyes still pleading for understanding.  “I know, Oppa.  B-but it was only small things, like snacks a-and candy…”

 

Kim Dokja glared briefly at Han Sooyoung, who laughed nervously in answer, shrugging shamelessly in apology.

 

Persephone stroked a gentle hand through Shin Yoosung’s hair, while giving Lee Gilyoung another look .  “You probably weren’t the only culprit practicing in secret.  Right, Gilyoung?”

 

Lee Gilyoung’s gaze turned downwards, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

 

Kim Dokja traded a glance with Persephone.  “I could probably help her keep it open long enough to get everyone through.  We’ll just need to figure out a way back after we’re done there.”

 

“I could go with you —”

 

“Absolutely not , Shin Yoosung.”  Both Persephone and Lee Sookyung spoke.

 

“Ah, I can stay back and help arrange transport for later.”  Yoo Sangah added, smiling slightly.

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  “Thank you, Sangha-ssi.”   

 

Then, Kim Dokja looked to Shin Yoosung, who nodded in response.  

 

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was happening.  However, after a moment, [1863] noticed a white coat of what looked like short fur covering Shin Yoosung, leaving her face bare.  Then, in the next moment, he felt a gathering of immense potential concentrating to a single point in front of them. 

 

From that point, a void of pitch black appeared, growing bigger and bigger in circumference until it was large enough for a person to step through.  The darkness slightly brightened as swirls of opalescent streaks started weaving throughout the void.

 

Han Sooyoung spoke to Yoo Sangah, her voice calm.  “We’ll contact you when we get there.”

 

Yoo Sangah nodded.  

 

“It should be stabilized.  Hurry.  I’ll follow last.”  Kim Dokja said, his voice sounding strained.

 

Han Sooyoung turned to Yoo Joonghyuk.  “This portal should drop us near the first victim’s house.”

 

Although Yoo Joonhyuk’s expression looked blank as he gazed at the portal, [1863] knew there were likely a lot of questions he wanted to ask — like the dangers, the consequences — of opening a literal transportation portal in the air out of practically nothing.  

 

[1863] felt the same.  

 

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk turned his gaze to [1863] and [2], an unspoken question.

 

[2] stepped forward first, ‘returning’ to Yoo Joonghyuk seamlessly.  

 

[1863] hesitated for a moment, going to Kim Dokja and brushing a soft kiss against his temple, before he, too, ‘returned’ to Yoo Joonghyuk, his last thoughts so similar to what Yoo Joonghyuk was thinking that it seemed they weren’t separate at all.

Chapter 26: The House

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Kim Dokja stumbled through the portal, stepping out next to [41], his Alpha readily catching and helping him to regain his footing.  It closed behind him without a sound, almost like it had never been there at all.

 

He took a moment to get his bearings, noticing that they were close to the forest tree line in New City.  It was quiet, the sun just setting below the horizon, dying the area an orange-violet color, reflecting off of the metallic structures that were lining both sides of the street.  The structures reminded him of three-floor apartment buildings, except they were skinny and rectangular with rounded edges.

 

Kim Dokja knew they would be dropped at the closest point to the first victim’s house, he just hadn’t expected that they would be practically in the backyard of said house.  

 

Shin Yoosung’s ability seemed to have gotten more precise since the last time they had practiced together.  It also made him wonder what improvements Lee Gilyoung might have accomplished.  

 

A slight pang of guilt jolted through him at the thought that he hadn’t been around as often as he used to for the past few months.

 

He would make sure to check in with them when he returned to First City.

 

Even though a part of him was still dealing with the emotional whiplash he had experienced during dinner — even if he had understood what his mothers were trying to accomplish, it didn’t hurt any less to pick at old scars.  

 

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At the beginning, when he first started his healing process, there was a time where it had been more comfortable to let the [Stories] swallow him up rather than be an active participant in his own life.  

 

It was an old habit, formed from before — when his mother was in prison and he was passed around between neglectful relatives.  A dependency and a coping mechanism he had developed because it was easier to listen to the [Stories] rather than what the people around him had been saying.  

 

So, for a very long time, he had been living in his own reality — a reality propped up by the [Stories] that always surrounded him — [Stories] that never abandoned him.

 

A reality that abruptly shattered when he had jumped out of that window and ended up in the hospital, only to discover that he was an Omega.

 

But, even afterwards, when he had the support of Dr. Makerfield, Persephone, and Hades, Kim Dokja still struggled with figuring out how to live outside of the [Stories].  Struggled with figuring out how to view the people around him — the people that were supporting him and, in turn, he was learning to accept support from — as more than just ‘ characters ’.

 

《How to cope in a world beyond the [Stories].》

 

When he had first started his sessions with Yoo Hoseong, Yoo Hoseong had asked him what it was like ‘living in the [Stories]’.  It was something that was difficult for Kim Dokja to explain outside of the context of a [Reader], so, instead, he had shown Yoo Hoseong what it was like.

 

And, after he had shown him, Yoo Hoseong had suggested that they end the session early and complete the remaining chores they had for the day — explaining that they both should perform simple tasks — listen to simpler [Stories] that would ground them back into reality.  

 

It was only later, when they sat down for a quiet dinner, that Yoo Hoseong described it to him in his own words.  

 

It was like seeing the world in only two-dimensions — like only seeing a dark, filled-in circle on a sheet of paper.  But, reality is not flat like the paper, and the circle is actually an infinite line that extends beyond, and the paper is not actually flat and can be turned sideways.  

 

Kim Dokja could admit that the explanation didn’t make sense to him — what did Yoo Hoseong mean that the dot is actually a line and the paper isn’t a paper? — so he didn’t feel ashamed to ask.

 

Yoo Hoseong had paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before posing a question.

 

『”What makes someone a ‘character’, and what makes someone ‘not a character’?  I think we will need to figure this out first.”』   

 

They had spent over a year — maybe even longer — on answering that question.  And, in the process of finding that answer, Kim Dokja had made his own conclusions while learning his ability.

 

〈And, more importantly, while learning about himself .〉  

 

Which eventually meant that he had to face his mother, Lee Sookyung, if only to gain some perspective — maybe even closure — to that chapter of his life.  

 

However, when he saw her for the first time behind the clear plexiglass, he found that he was at a loss for words, and he no longer knew how to reach her on the other side of the wall between them.

 

So, with his head completely blank, not knowing where to even start, he spoke about the first thing that was fresh in his mind — someone else’s [Story] that had been shared with him recently.  

 

〈He spoke to her about Yoo Joonghyuk.〉 

 

And, as time went on and he continued to visit her, he found it was easier to tell someone else’s [Story] rather than tell his own .  

 

Eventually, Kim Dokja ended up speaking to Lee Sookyoung about all of the stories he collected about Yoo Joonghyuk and his facets, while she sat there and listened.

 

〈Neither of them sharing any part of the [Stories] about themselves — only ever speaking about someone else.〉   

 

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Even after his mother was released and she stepped back into his life, he discovered that it didn’t matter if there was a physical wall between them or not.  

 

They still couldn't talk to each other — couldn’t share their own [Stories] with each other.

 

Of course, as was typical of their relationship, his mother had gotten the watered-down version of his [Story] from Persephone — who likely meant well by sharing it, but, as with most things, intention never had an effect on the actual result.

 

So, Kim Dokja had to adapt to having two mothers in his life who liked to meddle.   He had had to learn to negotiate the veritable minefield of their individual protective instincts and how they went about implementing them.

 

Persephone had also once confessed to him that she did have difficulty in navigating how to be a mother, at the same time as Hades learning to be father — Kim Dokja was their first child, after all — and, at times, they would look to Lee Sookyung in that regard.

 

However.

 

He loved his parents dearly, but sometimes…their version of ‘tough love’ was hard to swallow.

 

Then there was Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, both of whom, Kim Dokja realized, had likely been practicing their more volatile abilities in secret — without supervision — possibly with the assistance of Han Sooyoung — 

 

He whipped around quickly, opening his mouth to reprimand Han Sooyoung, but then something caught his attention, derailing his thoughts.

 

「What was he seeing?」

 

Millions of tiny sparks flickered, disappearing then reappearing, floating around in no particular pattern, like dust that hadn’t found a place to settle.

 

Kim Dokja had never seen clouds of probability so densely concentrated in one place before.  It took him a moment to focus, to look beyond the individual specks to what he assumed was the first victim’s house.  

 

More specifically, the wooden house that had a wrap-around porch, built two-floors tall — a stark difference from the other houses that were on this street.

 

Something invisible tugged at his chest, pulling him closer, drawing him nearer, and before he knew it, his feet were moving, walking towards the back door —

 

He was pulled-up short.  Someone had grabbed his hand, but he couldn’t look away from what was in front of him because —

 

「There was a [Story] there.」

 

It was a [Story] he was trying to make sense of since it seemed more like an amalgamation of different [Stories] — or different ‘settings’ of [Stories] — all tied together by a very loose connection, and he wasn’t able to tell where it began.

 

But the more he stared, the more he could see that it was leading somewhere, the sparks growing denser and denser along a specific path.  Kim Dokja was scared that if he looked away even for a second the path would completely disappear.

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

His Alpha was calling him.  Although part of him recognized that the [Story] was likely purposefully luring him in — much like the children that were entranced by the pied piper of Hamelin — he was having a difficult time separating himself from it.  

 

A lemon candy slipped between his lips, the taste of it bursting on his tongue, and it gave him enough of an edge that he could engage his [Story Control] and pull his own scattering [Words] back together.  

 

He let out a sigh, rolling the candy against his tongue, turning back to face them, noticing that it was Yoo Joonghyuk who had grabbed his hand.  “Sorry.  There’s just… something about this house…”

 

Han Sooyoung looked at him strangely, her expression turning sharper.  “ What house , Dokja-yah?”

 

Kim Dokja paused, slightly shocked.  “What?  The wooden one — the first victim’s house…?”

 

He trailed off.  Then he looked back to check that, yes, the house was still there, sparks winking around it.

 

“You… can’t see it?”  

 

He glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk and [41], noting their incredulous expressions.  He studied the house again, trying to figure out what the catch was.  Was it just an illusion?  But, if it was, then what did it mean that it was an illusion that only he could see?  

 

Or, what if it wasn’t the house that was the illusion?  What if the illusion was that the house wasn’t there at all?

 

He gripped Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand tighter, as he searched each of their expressions.  

 

“Trust me.  There’s a house here.”

 

Han Sooyoung looked past him, trying to see what she was missing.  Absently, she murmured, “It could be why they allowed us access so readily — maybe New City thought that there wasn’t a residence here to be searched in the first place.”

 

“Doesn’t explain why they still back-dated the warrant to try to prevent us from seeing the place, though.”  [41] pointed out.  

 

Yes, the whole thing was suspicious and strange and didn’t make any sense. 

 

And Kim Dokja could feel that they still didn’t have all of the pieces.

 

Except.

 

There was a house here, hidden in plain sight.

 

He thought there were too many unknowns, increasing the risk exponentially that things could go sideways — but this was the only lead that they had at the moment.  

 

〈And he could still feel the pull of something calling to him.〉

 

“Let’s go in.”  He said, looking at each of them, before turning around and heading towards the house, following the trail of sparks.  

 

As he passed through the denser clouds, he could feel them snapping against his skin.  He waved a hand through a cluster of them just within reach, catching them in his palm, trying to force them into something more tangible that he could [Read].  But they only flickered against his skin, lighting up for a moment, before extinguishing again.  

 

“What are you doing?”  Han Sooyoung asked, walking next to him.

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  “Experimenting.”

 

She smiled at him fondly.  “You’re crazy, you know that?”

 

“You’re still here, though.”  He answered back distractedly.  The sparks in front of him had started to move… strangely.  Well, stranger than things already are.  

 

He warned as they approached the porch.  “There’s a step-up here.”

 

When his foot landed on the wood, something unseen rippled against their senses, like a single drop of water disturbing the surface of a still pond, sending waves in all directions.

 

Kim Dokja turned his head, eyes wide, looking at Han Sooyoung, not daring to move another inch.  

 

They had all felt that.  For a moment, they stopped breathing, waiting to see if anything more would happen.  

 

But there was nothing.

 

Slowly, Kim Dokja relaxed, the others following after.  

 

“There really was something here.”  41 commented, rapping a knuckle against the wall of the house experimentally.  

 

They took a moment to study their surroundings, noting that the only door leading into the house was the one right in front of them.  

 

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk asked, “Kim Dokja, you sensed something.  Earlier.  Where were you going?”

 

Kim Dokja looked up, and even though he couldn’t see through the solid walls, he still felt that call coming from inside.  He exhaled sharply.  “Only one way to find out.”

 

Opening the door was easier than he thought it would be, absent any sign that it had been sitting there, unused, for so many years.  And, when they stepped inside, even though the room was dark, it wasn’t musty.  There was minimal furniture in what looked to be the living room, a loveseat couch with a short coffee table.  There was a cutout wall that separated it from the small kitchen that had a stove and fridge and a few cabinets.  

 

A door near the kitchen was revealed to be a small pantry, discovered by [41].  

 

The thought that someone was actually still living here creeped in.  

 

However, it was Han Sooyoung who called out from the kitchen.  “There’s nothing here.  No food.  No electricity.”

 

She tried turning on the faucet.  “No water.”

 

The house was truly abandoned then.  

 

Still, it was in this condition. 

 

〈Almost like it was preserved.〉

 

Kim Dokja felt a chill skitter down his spine.  He didn’t know what had inspired his next thoughts.  Maybe it was because he had traveled the Dark Fault more extensively than anyone he knew.  

 

But… 

 

Was it possible that they had walked into a time rift?  

 

Something similar to the Dark Fault, except, in this one, time was much slower than their dimension…  

 

It may have been possible — may have been more probable — if they were closer to the Dark Fault, but to have it all the way here, in New City…

 

Because the Dark Fault was nearer to First City than it was to here.  There would have to be a significant power source nearby for a rift to be functioning here.   

 

He bit his lip, deciding to keep the thought to himself for now.  It was just a hunch, after all.  

 

And it was already too late for them the moment they stepped into it.  

 

His gaze traveled to the stairs that led to the second floor.  

 

A tug on his hand stopped him from climbing the first step, making him look back.  Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head once.  “Not alone.  We’ll stick together.”

 

And, even though Kim Dokja was antsy about searching the second floor, he nodded, agreeing that they shouldn’t split up — after reading so many thriller and horror type novels, he recalled that it was usually a bad idea for the party to separate.

 

Thankfully, the first floor wasn’t too extensive — only having the living room, kitchen, pantry, and storage closet — so it wasn’t long before they climbed the stairs to the second floor.  They stopped on the landing, noting that there were three doors — two on the left, one on the right.

 

Han Sooyoung and [41] opened the doors on the left, finding that they were completely empty rooms, much like the first floor.  No beds, no dresser, no boxes.  Not even anything hanging on the walls.  And, even more strangely, not a single window.  

 

Absolutely nothing.  But still, they didn’t dare step into the empty rooms to check.  

 

Kim Dokja thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling strange about this whole thing.

 

So, when Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk opened the remaining door on the right, they found something else entirely.

Chapter 27: The Egg

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It took a moment for Kim Dokja to understand what he was seeing.  At first, his vision was blinded by the nebula of sparks swirling against the ceiling of the room.  The more he blinked, the more his vision came back, and he noticed the sparks start to resolve into disconnected [Words] hovering in the air, forming and dispersing and forming again.  Yet he still couldn’t tell what they meant.

 

However, what was even weirder to him was the wall of books.  They were stacked to a height just above his head, spanning across the width of the room, hiding the rest of the space behind it.  He belatedly noticed that the sparks were floating up and over the wall, originating from somewhere beyond.

 

The towers were stacked haphazardly, made up of books that were different sizes and thickness, some of the spines sticking out further than others.  Almost like it was put up in a hurry — or stacked as the books were collected.  

 

But why would anyone do this?  

 

And, as he looked closer, he noticed that the spines of the books were blank, empty of any titles or authors or any indication of what they were about.  

 

Distracted by curiosity, he stepped into the room, reaching up to take a book from the top of one of the stacks in front of him.  Trepidation sank its claws into him as he saw its cover, the feeling growing stronger after he cracked the book open.

 

The book was completely devoid of all words that should have been in it.

 

「Very similar to a certain [Story].」

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

He definitely wasn’t the only one who made the connection.  Yoo Joonghyuk stood behind him, looking over his shoulder, his expression growing stiffer when he looked up to study the wall of books in front of them.

 

Still, Kim Dokja had to know what was beyond the wall.

 

Because whatever it was on the other side kept tugging at something in his chest — calling to him, making it extremely difficult to resist.

 

So it didn’t take much for him to reach out and start disassembling the wall, book by book, gaining momentum as he found another layer, a second wall of books behind the first row.  Yoo Joonghyuk, [41], and Han Sooyoung followed his actions — helping along in the destruction .  

 

Kim Dokja didn’t know why it felt like time stretched on, caught up in the motions of reaching for a book, dropping it, then reaching out for another.  But, as they got closer and closer to the source, unable to keep track of how many walls they tore down, he started to slow, and then stop when he stood in front of what he sensed was the last wall.  

 

《The final wall.》

 

He hesitated for a moment, looking questioningly at Han Sooyoung — unsure why he looked at her, but nonetheless he felt a sense of reassurance when she nodded, motioning for him to carry on.

 

It was Yoo Joonghyuk who reached out, taking a stack of books from the top, then going back for another stack.  

 

But, when they finally reached beyond the final wall, Kim Dokja suddenly wanted to put all of the books back, a confusing sense of dread and elation coursing through him, as he recognized what lay on the other side.

 

It was a dokkaebi egg.  

 

The egg was colored in swirls of gold and purple shot through with streaks of black that seemed to reflect colors like an oil slick.  

 

“Is that… Is that what a dokkaebi egg looks like?”  Han Sooyoung asked, her expression a mixture of both skepticism and excitement.  

 

Kim Dokja nodded, unsure of what else to say.  

 

Then he found himself nearly tripping over his own feet, stumbling forward, as he was abruptly tugged by a string of [Words] that he hadn’t noticed had formed like a noose around his neck.

 

[41] had reflexively grabbed for him, but Kim Dokja waved him off, following the call of the dokkaebi egg.  He was still aware of himself, just unable to shake off the feeling of inevitability as he reached out, cradling the egg in his hands.  

 

“What… do we do with it?”  [41] asked, kneeling down next to Kim Dokja.  

 

“Feed it, of course.”

 

Because, for some time now, Kim Dokja had been feeling a blunt pain poking at his ribs.  

 

Of course he knew what it was, but he had been ignoring it, hoping that it had just followed him like it did when he left the Dark Fault.  

 

But he couldn't ignore it any longer.  

 

He reached into the inside ‘pocket’ of his coat and pulled out the ancient tome — the one filled with [Words] written in a language long forgotten — a language of the 〚Stars〛 — and containing the tale of the Wenny Man.

 

But, more importantly, containing the [Core] of the [Story] of the last Dokkaebi King.

 

And, unlike how it was described in the tale of the Wenny Man, when Kim Dokja held the book near the egg, he didn’t have to open its cover at all.

 

No, the book seemed to unravel before his eyes, like a thread unwinding from a spool, strings of characters peeling off as they were devoured by the egg.

 

This was something new to him.  It didn’t happen like this when he had first encountered a dokkaebi in his old apartment.  

 

However, when it finished with the book, the egg started to take in the sparks of [Words] that had been floating around them at such a rapid rate that Kim Dokja could only liken it to a wormhole — like chaos returning to the void — until there weren’t any sparks left in the room.

 

Then the house started shaking around them.  

 

The first tremor was all the warning they needed.  Kim Dokja stood, tucking the egg into his ‘pocket’, then they all raced out of the room and down the stairs, making it through the back door in a short amount of time.  But as the others stepped off of the porch, something made Kim Dokja pause and look back, tingles skittering across his shoulder like something trying to catch his attention.  

 

Two distinct yet disconnected [Words] floated past his line of sight — 

 

〔Seekers〕

 

〔End〕

 

Strangely, seeing those [Words] together made his blood run cold, as a sense of foreboding made him freeze in place.  He didn’t know what it meant, but he couldn’t shake the inclination that it was another clue, another piece, and he found himself struggling to remember why those [Words] were so… familiar .

 

However this wasn’t the time to think about that.  Another tremor ran through the floorboards beneath his feet, spurring him into action.    

 

The moment his feet touched the grass, it felt like stepping into a fast flowing river, the current pulling him forward.  And behind him, the feeling of a door being shut, closed soundlessly but leaving behind the impression of being sealed.

 

He looked back.

 

The house was gone as if it never existed in the first place.

 

Then he found himself trapped between dense muscle, his Alphas surrounding him in the front and in the back, rough growls vibrating through him.

 

Kim Dokja turned his face to the side, finding Han Sooyoung looking at him with a worried expression.  

 

“What…?”  He started, which Han Sooyoung cleared up in short order.

 

“We’ve been waiting here for a few hours — you didn’t immediately appear… What happened , Dokja-yah?”

 

His eyes widened at the implication, his mind catching on quickly, as he reflexively looked towards where the house should have been, even though he knew that there would be nothing there.  

 

“Time rift…”  He murmured, trailing off as another realization made itself apparent.

 

Was the rift solely powered by the dokkaebi egg?  

 

What did it mean if it was?  

 

As he lightly pushed against his Alphas, he turned back to Han Sooyoung and asked, “What day is it?”

 

Han Sooyoung looked down at her watch, her expression turning apprehensive.  Then, she pulled out her phone, her eyes widening slightly.  

 

“It’s… been more than a week ?  But… we were only in there for a few hours… right…?”  She looked back up at Kim Dokja, her mind working, her own theories clicking into place.  

 

Then she narrowed her eyes at him.  “You don’t seem surprised.  A time rift… You suspected, didn’t you?”

 

And he couldn’t deny it, so he decided not to say anything.

 

She threw her hands up in exasperation, as he felt a frustrated sigh puff against the back of his neck.

 

A firm hand grasped his chin, guiding him to look at Yoo Joonghyuk, and Kim Dokja found he had to force himself to meet his Alpha’s gaze.

 

“You knew.”  A statement said with an edge of displeasure.

 

Kim Dokja swallowed roughly before answering, his voice soft.  “I… wasn't completely sure…”  He winced at the feeble whine he heard — pleading for his Alpha to understand.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk searched his gaze.  “But there was a possibility.”  Another statement.

 

“…yes.”  Kim Dokja confessed, aware of the pressure shifting from his chin, fingers curling to hold the nape of his neck.

 

And it was [41], growling in his ear.  “We’ll speak about this later, Omega.”

 

Kim Dokja squeezed his eyes shut as electricity skittered down his spine, hearing a carnal promise laced between the vowels.

 

〈The Omega in him reminding him that his heat wasn’t that far off.〉

 

“Tch.  Get a room.  We have company — Well, more than me just standing here like an idiot.”  Han Sooyoung cut in, interrupting his wayward thoughts.  

 

He stepped out from between his Alphas.  A sleek New City Official’s vehicle heading towards them on the street.  They watched as it swung around, coming to a stop, before the door slid open.

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face at the sight of the “officer” that stepped from the vehicle.

 

“What are you doing here, maknae-yah?  Stirring up trouble in our City.”

 

Sun Wukong had come to pick them up.

 

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Although the vehicle was shaped like a metallic pebble, the inside was more spacious than Kim Dokja expected, [41] noting the look of wonder that he wore as he looked around the cabin.  

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk asked him about it, Kim Dokja explained he had only been to New City once after he had left the Dark Fault — it was a short stay where he had only been there to visit Sun Wukong and his family, since they had transferred to the New City office, and had kept mostly to the city center where personal vehicles were strictly prohibited — so he hadn’t had a chance to see one of these before.  

 

Kim Dokja experimentally poked at the squishy material of the seat cushion below them repetitively until [41] grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together to stop him from doing it again.

 

“Yoo Sangah-ssi had called about… a week ago now.  I thought I was supposed to have picked you all up sooner than this.”  Sun Wukong said from the front seat, leaning back nearly flat while checking something on his phone.  

 

Apparently the vehicle was being driven solely by the auto navigation system, and when Kim Dokja had nervously asked Sun Wukong about this, it was explained that the vehicle was being guided via the vehicle’s computer system to the ‘Control Center’ — their main office for all citizens entering and leaving New City.

 

Sun Wukong tilted his head back, looking at Kim Dokja upside down, while scolding him.  “You and your friends were only supposed to be here for a week, according to the warrant.  You know how… controlled New City is about the population.”

 

“Well, if the warrant hadn’t been back-dated by four days, we would be within the timeframe.”  Han Sooyoung snapped back, focused on her own phone as she messaged back and forth with Yoo Sangah, updating her on their findings.

 

Well, updating her on most of their findings.  In an unspoken agreement, they had agreed to keep news of the dokkaebi egg to themselves.  

 

〈Especially when communicating via technology within New City’s borders.〉

 

Everything was monitored in New City — their society was a fusion of artificial intelligence and organic processes, and most of its citizens were hardwired into the mainframe virtual network with some piece of bioengineered technological implant — a mandatory condition if one wished to live in New City as a permanent resident.

 

Guests visiting New City were typically given temporary implants — as long as they visited the Control Center first.  

 

「...Which they hadn’t.」  

 

Sun Wukong flinched, the golden band around his head reflecting the interior lights.  “Yeah.  Not the best look for New City’s ERS branch.  I got an earful from Yoo Sangah-ssi about it.”  He sighed.  “But lucky your parents have some pull in the City, eh, Maknae-yah.  They got their legal team to smooth things over while you all were unavailable — by the way, where — what  exactly happened?”

 

It was the second time [41] had heard Sun Wukong call Kim Dokja that, and it was making him feel… something — halfway between curious and possessive, the connection between them unknown.  He glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, who was also staring at Sun Wukong intently.  

 

Sun Wukong brought his seat back up straight and swung it around to face them.   

 

Han Sooyoung smirked while pocketing her phone.  “We don’t have to answer that, you sneaky monkey.  It’s part of our private investigation.  You can read the official report when it’s filed with First City ERS.”

 

“Tsk.  Fine.”  Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes as he stared at Han Sooyoung.  “I can be worried about my maknae, too, you know.”  Then, his eyes widened as he looked at Kim Dokja.  “We’ll be meeting Sanzang-ah at the Center, too.  She’ll be happy to see you.”

 

Kim Dokja smiled fondly at Sun Wukong — and that definitely did not make [41] slightly jealous — as he responded, “Ah, how has Sanzang-ah been?  She’ll likely scold me for not visiting more often.”

 

“Yes, you should be visiting more often.  I see my brothers more often than I see you — and they escape to live in the Dark Fault most of the time.”  Sun Wukong clicked his tongue on the back of his teeth.  “Our own maknae, too busy to see us.”

 

“I’ve been busy.”  Kim Dokja said defensively.  

 

Sun Wukong smirked as his gaze flicked between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].  “Yes, I can see that.”  

 

Kim Dokja just sighed, burying his face in his hands, and [41] just put an arm around his Omega, pulling him close, a small, satisfied smile curling his lips.

 

They stayed like that for a while, as Sun Wukong turned to Yoo Joonghyuk, asking about their cases at the First City branch — ‘ Digging for information ’ Han Sooyoung mumbled — and it gave [41] a moment to study Sun Wukong.

 

This esper Alpha was well known in First City — powerful in his own right — maybe even strong enough to pose a challenge to Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had worked with Sun Wukong a few times when their cases had required a more powerful esper team — like that one time where some idiot had nearly awakened a dragon in the middle of the Eden.  

 

From what [41] knew of him, he had three brothers, all esper Alphas, and they had all been living in the Dark Fault until a few years ago, when they had moved to New City.  

 

〈For their Beta.〉

 

It made [41] wonder how Kim Dokja had met them — how they were so familiar with each other.

 

But, he could admit that — if only to himself — he felt a smug satisfaction that Kim Dokja had chosen them to be his first Alphas — his first pack .

 

Kim Dokja curled into his side a little tighter, and [41] turned towards him, noting that his eyes were slowly closing.  Maybe it was their exploration of that house, or something to do with the dokkaebi egg they discovered in its depths — whatever it was had exhausted Kim Dokja.  

 

Uncaring of the eyes watching them, [41] pulled Kim Dokja onto his lap — weak mumbled protests spilling from Kim Dokja before [41] shushed him and told him to rest.  

 

And Kim Dokja did, falling into a doze quickly — the warmth of contentment spreading through [41]’s chest.

Chapter 28: The Center

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Yoo Joonghyuk carried Kim Dokja from the car, his instincts telling him to keep his Omega as close as possible when they entered the Control Center.  The feeling was especially cutting while he was still shaken by the fact that Kim Dokja had not immediately appeared when they walked out of that… ‘house’.  

 

Rifts were mostly found near the limits of the Dark Fault.  Since the area of the Dark Fault was heavily controlled by the Bureau, the rifts typically formed in a controlled space where they wouldn’t have to worry about the general population stumbling into one and disappearing for eons at a time.

 

But Kim Dokja had suspected.  

 

「And he hadn’t said anything .」  

 

It made Yoo Joonghyuk want to reprimand his Omega.  Even though he could admit the notion was instinct driven, it was also partially because it was another situation where Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t been made aware of the dangers.  

 

Rationally, he understood that, even if Kim Dokja had made them aware of the possibility that they were operating in a time rift, it wouldn’t have made a difference on the outcome.  

 

Regardless, even if Yoo Joonghyuk understood this, he was still having difficulty with swallowing the bitter pill — the realization that he could not be prepared for everything.

 

〈— That he could not protect Kim Dokja from all of the potential dangers.〉

 

Lately, an idea had been sprouting in Yoo Joonghyuk’s thoughts about Kim Dokja — an idea that Kim Dokja would try to protect them all on his own.  That Kim Dokja would have the knowledge of the dangers and try to mitigate them alone .  

 

「Maybe even to the point of self-sacrifice .」

 

Because Kim Dokja was used to being alone.  

 

And that scared Yoo Joonghyuk more than anything.

 

They would have to prove to their Omega that he was no longer alone — that they could face the dangers together.

 

「...」

 

Yoo Joonghyuk absently wondered if Kim Dokja would be open to discussing the possibility of a bond.  

 

He looked down at the still dozing Omega in his arms and thought he would pose the question to Kim Dokja soon.  

 

「Maybe after they got out of here.」 

 

The lobby of the Control Center was open, the view of all seven floors seen by just looking up, with the main floor lined with service counters along the left and right walls.  Virtual and holographic projections advertising events and services filled up the space, making it seem busy and alive, even during the late hour.   

 

And it was late.  The drive to the Center took a little over five hours, and Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help feeling relieved that the main lobby wasn’t very busy — that it wasn’t over crowded with harsh scents, absent of the stifling pressure of having to navigate past too many people.  

 

If Yoo Joonghyuk remembered correctly, it seemed they were heading towards ERS’s satellite office that was located within the Control Center, on the third floor.  

 

He preferred that they stay within the Center as much as possible, his protective instincts on edge with his Omega here with them.

 

Especially to protect them from those that carried hostility towards espers.

 

There was a reason why they avoided New City as much as they could — a city built on the ideology of integrating technology with the organic.  

 

Of course the City wasn’t without its regulations, but many of its citizens had traded their singularity for the manufactured biomechanics that New City provided — traded their independence for being plugged-in to the Network — and it had become a type of crutch for a lot of people who never triggered their esper abilities.

 

However, one thing that New City couldn’t manufacture or replicate were Alpha, Beta, and Omega genes.  Any attempts were met with failure no matter how advanced the research and technology became.  

 

So, it was decided that New City would focus on enhancement.

 

And who wouldn’t want to live in a virtual world where anything you could imagine was possible?  A world where you weren’t limited by physical boundaries?

 

Yoo Joonghyuk never disparaged another for their lack of esper ability, and he understood that the enhancements that were provided by New City became a way for those without abilities to… become more .

 

Because not everyone had their esper genes triggered — a fact that Yoo Joonghyuk somewhat envied, since it usually meant that they had a relatively ‘good’ life — a life free of events so traumatic that it awakened the biological protective response. 

 

But as is normal with their species, sometimes having a ‘good’ life wasn’t enough — personal ambitions for more becoming both a temptation and a self-imposed shackle.

 

So, although it wasn’t apparent on the surface, espers were not particularly welcomed within the City borders by a portion of its populace.  Add to that another layer of social conflict — the biomechanically enhanced versus the question of artificial intelligence — and the City felt like it was always just on the edge of conflict. 

 

However, it was not to say that all aspects of New City were so volatile.  Even though the political climate in New City was always teetering precariously between organic and artificial — teetering between espers and non-espers — there was still a silver lining to the conflict.

 

New City was a literal melting pot of ideas and burgeoning technologies.

 

Especially in the research and production of bio enhancements.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had always wondered why powerful espers like Sun Wukong and his brothers, Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, had needed to move to New City.  

 

And, as they entered ERS’s satellite office, the reason for that was standing right in front of him.

 

Tang Sanzang was an androgynously beautiful Beta guide who Yoo Joonghyuk remembered first meeting when he had just been a rookie at First City ERS.  However he had only caught a glimpse of her back then, since she had left their branch shortly after his acceptance into the ranks.  

 

Later, he found out it was because she had been called to fulfill a ‘sacred mission’ within the Dark Fault — a mission that had completely changed her life.

 

Because, when she completed her mission, she brought with her her Alphas — introducing Sun Wukong and his brothers to ERS where they quickly made a name for themselves.  

 

However, Tang Sanzang did not return to her original position within the First City office.  The official explanation had been that she preferred living in the Dark Fault, ultimately resigning from ERS.  

 

But this seemed to have not been the whole story.

 

In Yoo Joonghyuk’s memory of her, she had been completely organic, not a single tech implant or enhancement evident on her person.  

 

But, from what he could see now, more than half of her body was made up of biomechanics, her appearance a patchwork amalgamation of shiny metal and organic skin. 

 

He wondered what had happened to her on that mission.

 

He also wondered about the spark of fondness reflected in her gaze as she looked at Kim Dokja.

 

When she stepped closer, Yoo Joonghyuk reflexively pulled Kim Dokja tighter into his chest.  Unexpectedly, his reaction only made her smile softly.

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi, [41]-ssi, and — ah, I don’t believe we’ve met before.  I’m Tang Sanzang, a Director here at the New City ERS branch.”

 

Han Sooyoung introduced herself, her expression wary.  “Detective Han, owner of a private investigation firm.  We were hired under the First City ERS branch.”  

 

Unfazed, Tang Sanzang nodded.  “Director Yoo briefly explained the situation to me.  Unfortunately, due to the late hour and long travel, we won’t be able to provide transport back to First City until tomorrow morning.”

 

Then, she turned, walking down a side hallway and opening a door.  “So, for now, you can stay here.”  She glanced at Kim Dokja again.  “You all must be exhausted.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk noted it was one of the break rooms for the office, with cots set up against the wall for the night shift workers.  

 

She was right about how exhausted Kim Dokja was, since he didn’t awaken at all when Yoo Joonghyuk placed him on one of the cots.  Although, he did reach out for him again, noticing the loss of his Alpha’s warmth and scent.  But the cot wasn’t built for the both of them, so Yoo Joonghyuk shed his coat, laying it over Kim Dokja, who immediately wrapped himself in it before settling again.

 

“I’ve never seen him like this before.”  Tang Sanzang commented from the doorway.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wordlessly looked at her.  He didn’t know Tang Sanzang well enough to speak about such personal things.

 

“You must be hungry.  Maybe Sun Wukong can take you to get something to eat first?”  Tang Sanzang offered in the growing silence, trading a quick glance with Sun Wukong.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was about to decline the offer, when Han Sooyoung spoke first.  

 

“Sure.  Let’s go, Joonghyuk-ssi.” 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at her, about to tell her he was fine and that he was going to stay here — because someone should stay with Kim Dokja — when [41] cleared his throat, making Yoo Joonghyuk pause.

 

“I’ll stay back.” [41] said, as he sat on the cot adjacent to Kim Dokja’s, looking at Yoo Joonghyuk meaningfully.  And in the glance they traded — a tacit understanding — Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t deny that the more information they could get the better.

 

Especially if it was about Kim Dokja.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes at [41].  

 

So why was it that Yoo Joonghyuk had to be the one to get it? 

 

But before he could question it any further, he was already being dragged out of the room by Han Sooyoung.

 

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They were led to a small bar not far from the Control Center, finding a private table in a low-lit corner.  It was a bar run by an A.I. system during the night, and likely more ‘human’ workers during the day.  

 

The streets of the City — at least near the Center — were quiet, with only a few people flitting in and out of shops, seemingly lost in thought.  But Yoo Joonghyuk knew they were probably preoccupied with the Network — the virtual reality interface that operated within the borders of New City.  

 

The permanent residents of New City lived in a completely different world than the reality that Yoo Joonghyuk was currently seeing in front of his eyes.

 

He didn’t know how to feel about that.  And, technically, they should have been given temporary implants, as well, before wandering the streets of the place, but he wasn’t fool enough to ask that question now.

 

“Hey, Sun Wukong-ssi, should we be plugged-in or whatever?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk closed his eyes for a moment in exasperation at Han Sooyoung’s question.  But, when he opened them, he found her gaze on Sun Wukong to be sharp.

 

But of course, Sun Wukong was just as sharp, just as clever — probably already guessed they would dig for information — so he smirked as he sipped his drink.  “We figured you’re with me.  And you all should be out of here by tomorrow anyway.”  He shrugged.  “There was no need, really.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flicked to the golden band on Sun Wukong’s head.

 

Sun Wukong tapped it with one of his fingers.  It lit up, the light rippling through the band until it darkened, returning to inert metal.  “My penance when I became a permanent resident here.  Except instead of the Network, it's connected and controlled by Sanzang-ah.”  

 

“It was the only way my brothers and I had agreed to become residents.”

 

And the way Sun Wukong said it, Yoo Joonghyuk thought it sounded like they had been backed into a corner where the only choice they had was to obey.

 

“Why don’t you leave?  Live someplace else?”  Han Sooyoung asked, her tone curious.

 

Sun Wukong shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips.  “Sanzang-ah wouldn't be able to survive very long outside of New City — not with the amount of tech they needed to —”  He swallowed roughly, before continuing.  “They used a lot of bio-mechanical parts to fix her body.  The maintenance alone — there aren’t enough experts that live outside of New City that would be able to help us if anything went wrong.”

 

After a pause, he added, while staring down at his drink.  “Our maknae was the one who suggested that we bring her here in the first place — that they could help repair and maintain her physical body.”

 

“How do you know Kim Dokja?”  Yoo Joonghyuk found himself asking the question without really thinking about it, urged on by the fact that Kim Dokja had known these people — had been close enough with these people that they trusted him like… family .

 

Sun Wukong smiled slyly.  “Maknae-yah hasn’t told you much about the Dark Fault, has he?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt a slight pang at the dig, twisting the perspective that Kim Dokja was withholding information from them.  But, if the objective for such a question was to test for cracks within their building relationship, it didn't quite hit the mark, as it only dredged up Yoo Joonghyuk’s worry that he wouldn’t be able to protect Kim Dokja from everything.

  

Han Sooyoung waved her hand, clearing the air.  “Not for lack of trying.”  She huffed before crossing her arms over her chest.  “I had asked that rat before, and he said that it wasn’t something he could talk about.”  

 

“Well, more specifically, he said that, since I was an author, I would likely write about what he told me in one of my novels and — I quote — ‘ some of the things he found in the Dark Fault just weren’t ready to be written into the universe ’.”

 

Sun Wukong’s smile turned fond.  “Yes, that sounds like him.”

 

Then, Sun Wukong studied Yoo Joonghyuk.  “How do you know Kim Dokja?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt his jaw clench tightly at the question, his teeth grinding, his instinct making him want to hoard the information, before he rumbled out.  “We’re his Alphas.”

 

Sun Wukong’s gaze turned piercing.  “...But… he’s not your Omega…”

 

“ He is .”  Yoo Joonghyuk snapped, baring his teeth at the perceived threat.

 

But Sun Wukong only tilted his head.  “I don’t see a mate mark.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was reminded of how… annoying Sun Wukong could be.  He was starting to get more and more fed up with everyone feeling the need to question their relationship.  He did not miss that it was mostly those that Kim Dokja knew, and Yoo Joonghyuk irrationally thought that it would be nice if Kim Dokja knew less people.

 

Still, he could see that Kim Dokja meant something to these people.  He just needed to continue being patient for a little longer, so he took a deep breath before speaking.  

 

“That’s none of your business.”

 

Sun Wukong hummed under his breath, searching for something in Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression for a moment longer before relenting.  “You’re right.”

 

“And our maknae has always had a good sense of people.”

 

Their conversation stopped when an android server approached their table to bring their food, mostly side dishes with eggs and meat.  Yoo Joonghyuk could’t help the slight grimace when he looked at the food.  It was good that the others didn't comment on his choice to skip the meal.

 

"So, you knew Dokja-yah from the Dark Fault, then?"  Han Sooyoung asked between bites.

 

Sun Wukong's expression turned thoughtful before he confessed.  "Well, actually, we had only met him during our journey west in the Dark Fault."

 

"It was really Sanzang-ah that knew him from before."

Chapter 29: The Journey

Notes:

Sorry for the later than usual post. Posting schedule may be like this for the next few weeks due to work and travel.
Thank you, Readers, for continuing to read!

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Tang Sanzang had met Kim Dokja when he was residing in Yoo Hoseong’s territory.  

 

Yoo Hoseong had the best, most extensive collection of accessible records, so it was highly likely that it contained information on the location of the sacred scriptures that Tang Sanzang was tasked to find to fulfill her mission.

 

Of course, that’s where she first found Kim Dokja, carrying a tall stack of pamphlets and ancient tomes — ones that she just so happened to be looking for — and thus started their research for the location of the sacred scriptures and the path to get there.

 

It had taken them a month or so to pinpoint the possible location that the scriptures were kept — a place called ‘Vulture Peak’ — and they would have to travel west through the lands in the Dark Fault.

 

“‘They’?”  Yoo Joonghyuk asked, a hint of resignation coloring his question.

 

Sun Wukong smiled wryly.  “Our maknae could never resist a good story.  Sanzang-ah said that by the time they figured it out, both of them already knew that going on the journey without the other would have been like missing a limb.”

 

And so the pair started the journey west.  Except they were constantly set upon by the ‘spirits and demons’ of the mountains, most of them wanting to eat Tang Sanzang, and the rest of them — after discovering that Kim Dokja was an Omega — wanting to use him as a breeding tool to grow their influence and strength.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk snarled softly at the thought.  It made him want to trackdown the path they had used in their journey west and hunt these ‘spirits and demons’.  Maybe he would contact [18] and [48], since they had stayed in the Dark Fault the longest.  Wasn’t Mia supposed to call them soon, anyway?

 

“My brothers and I received an offer from Avalokitasvara — to help Sanzang-ah and her companion complete the mission — in exchange for our freedom.”  Sun Wukong chuckled.  “Little did we know, at the time we accepted what should have been a simple task for the three of us turned into… well, a journey .”

 

Sun Wukong’s expression was reminiscent.  “Just one of them would have been a handful.  But trying to keep both of them safe — hah.  Still, if we hadn’t accepted the deal, we would have never met our mate.”

 

Han Sooyoung looked at Sun Wukong pointedly.  “Knowing Dokja-yah, he must have had something to do with it.  That rat would never admit it but he’s secretly a romantic at heart.”

 

「Kim Dokja — a romantic?」 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk took note of that for later. 

 

Sun Wukong laughed.  “Yes, he definitely meddled where he could.”  He winced.  “Although sometimes our maknae would change things around so much, it made our heads spin.”

 

He sighed.  “He did also save me, and even Bajie, from what might have been many harsh punishments from our mate.  He mediated as best he could between our mate and Wujing.”

 

“And, in the end, Kim Dokja saved her from death.”

 

Sun Wukong looked as if he were in pain recalling the conclusion of their travels, explaining that, even though throughout the journey to Vulture Peak they had been set upon by many enemies, it was when they had found the sacred scriptures that the trouble really started.

 

Because the ‘sacred scriptures’ wasn’t a set of scrolls or pamphlets, as they had originally thought.  No, the ‘sacred scriptures’ were meant to be ‘carried’ — obtained by being burned into a vessel.  

 

It was only when they were faced with this realization that Tang Sanzang had confessed to having known what was expected — defending that it was meant to ‘purify her spirit’ — that since she was found in a river as a baby, her ‘spirit should hold enough water to balance the fire’. 

 

They tried to convince her otherwise, but Tang Sanzang wouldn’t be swayed.  So, in the end, she absorbed the sacred scriptures.

 

“And it nearly burned her out.”  Sun Wukong’s voice was hoarse as he continued roughly.  “If our maknae hadn’t been there, we would have lost her completely.”

 

Sun Wukong took a long drink before continuing.  “Maknae-yah was able to hold her together long enough for us to get her back to Yoo Hoseong’s home, and then repair her [Story Core].”  

 

He huffed out a laugh.  “That’s what he called it — [Story Core].  But what he really was repairing was her soul .”  Sun Wukong shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it.    

 

“However, we couldn’t slow down the damage it was causing to her physical body.  It was deteriorating too quickly.  So, that’s when our maknae contacted his parents and told us that if there was anywhere that could save our mate’s body, it was New City.”

 

Sun Wukong sighed.  “And… he was right.  My brothers and I… we knew the conditions — the consequences of living in New City.  But we would do anything for our mate.”

 

His gaze as he looked at Yoo Joonghyuk was piercing.  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

 

「 Yes .」  Yoo Joonghyuk knew exactly what he was saying.

 

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It was later than late when they returned to the office.  Han Sooyoung had tried to convince Sun Wukong to help with the access to Jean Baudrillard’s residence, but Sun Wukong had said they had already been helping as much as they could with that warrant.  

 

“We’re having trouble ourselves with getting any information about that case.”  Sun Wukong explained.  “Even Sanzang-ah has tried.”

 

And considering that Sun Wukong and Tang Sanzang were a few of the strongest agents with a decently high clearance level already, Yoo Joonghyuk started to get a sense that whatever they had stumbled into was much larger than just two seemingly random murder victims.

 

When they entered the office, Tang Sanzang was sitting at one of the desks, pouring over a case file on the screen of her computer.  Yoo Joonghyuk noticed how her eyes were flickering, reading at a speed that wasn’t normal for most people.

 

「Except for Kim Dokja.」 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk remembered how, on more than one occasion, Kim Dokja would scroll through text at a speed much similar to Tang Sanzang.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door to the break room, relieved to find that Kim Dokja was still sound asleep.  [41] had stretched out on the other cot, arms behind his head, and his eyes cracked open at the sound of the door opening.  

 

Han Sooyoung filed into the room after him, also looking dead on her feet, and she blearily shuffled over to the two-seat couch that was set up near a small kitchenette, flopping down and closing her eyes.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed a metal chair and set it up near the foot of Kim Dokja’s cot.  And before he closed his own eyes to sleep, unable to stop his impulse, he reached out a hand, his fingers rubbing soothingly along the exposed skin of Kim Dokja’s ankle, before he also fell into a light doze.

 

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Kim Dokja wasn’t in his cot when Yoo Joonghyuk woke up.  

 

For a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk felt a jolt of fear flash through him, but then he noticed that [41] was also missing.

 

He stood, shaking off the dregs of sleep and stiffness from dozing in a chair.  Han Sooyoung lightly snored on the couch, still asleep.

 

It was still dark out, likely in the early hours of the morning.  He walked towards the slightly open door to the break room, the sliver of light getting wider, cutting through the quiet darkness of the room for a moment as he stepped out into the office.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't have to look far for Kim Dokja.  He was curled in [41]’s lap as they sat in one of the chairs in front of Tang Sanzang’s desk, Yoo Joonghyuk’s coat still wrapped around him.  Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong were sitting across from them — Tang Sanzang talking softly with Kim Dokja while Sun Wukong leaned forward, his chin resting on his fist, seeming uninterested but likely listening intently.  

 

As Yoo Joonghyuk sat in a chair next to [41], Kim Dokja reached for him, blindly taking his hand, while he continued to listen to Tang Sanzang.

 

“— there hadn’t been any activity in the area.  We looked through the records of the case for the first victim, and it basically seemed like after the initial report, the rest was completely lost.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully.  “But… it’s New City.  How can the rest of the records for the residence be lost?”

 

Tang Sanzang's expression turned uncertain.  “I know we didn’t transfer to New City until after the case, but I tried to track down the original officers who were first on the scene — and nothing .  No data, no records, no history after the fact.”

 

“Not even if you have S-class clearance?”  [41] asked.

 

Tang Sanzang shook her head.  “Nothing.  Almost like it never happened.”

 

“ Except that the case was transferred to the First City ERS branch.”  Sun Wukong interjected.  He traded a quick glance with Tang Sanzang before continuing.  “There’s nothing about who handled the case before, only that the records were transferred.”

 

“That’s likely the only way we would have known about it in the first place.”  Yoo Joonghyuk commented.

 

Kim Dokja’s gaze seemed far away.  “So… is the murder of the second victim because it’s the same murderer, just resurfaced…”    

 

“Or is it because the first victim was a forgotten [Story]?”

 

Tang Sanzang’s gaze sharpened as she looked at Kim Dokja.  “Dokja-yah… what did you [Read]?”

 

For a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk had forgotten that Tang Sanzang had known Kim Dokja for many years.  Of course she would notice that Kim Dokja has pieces that none of them were aware of.

 

“‘Seekers’ and ‘End’… Does that mean anything to you?”  Kim Dokja asked, still sounding unsure and like he was missing something.

 

Tang Sanzang stared at Kim Dokja for a moment, searching for something in his expression.  “Where did you hear that?”

 

“…the second victim… Not all of his [Words] were erased.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk lightly squeezed Kim Dokja’s hand, asking for his attention.  “You didn’t say that before.”

 

Kim Dokja shook his head once.  “I didn’t think it was relevant at the time.”  But, Yoo Joonghyuk saw a different message in his Omega’s gaze — something for them to discuss later.

 

Tang Sanzang nodded.  “I see.”

 

Then, she reached out her hand, palm up.  “The ‘scriptures’.”

 

Kim Dokja hesitated for a moment, his gaze switching between Sun Wukong and Tang Sanzang — Sun Wukong also looking at Tang Sanzang, his expression conflicted.

 

Tang Sanzang smiled softly, trying to break the tension.  “You’ve [Read] them before, Dokja-yah.”

 

Kim Dokja exhaled sharply.  “I didn’t… register a lot of the [Words].  They were there and gone — I was more concerned with… you.”

 

She laughed softly.  “True.”  Then her expression turned serious.  “But it is important for you to know.”

 

Her gaze switched between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].  “Especially your Alphas.  Forewarned is forearmed.”

 

For a moment there was silence.  Then Kim Dokja reached out decisively, grasping Tang Sanzang’s offered hand, and —

 

「What exactly was this?」

 

Tang Sanzang had closed her eyes, her expression calm, as lines of glowing ones and zeros scrolled across her skin — both the organic and metallic parts — funneling down to the connection between herself and Kim Dokja.   

 

However, as Yoo Joonghyuk watched, when the ones and zeros ‘crossed over’, they became unrecognizable characters, like pitch black ink crawling across Kim Dokja’s skin, then fading and disappearing as if they were sinking beneath the surface.

 

Remembering how the scriptures were “obtained” in the first place, he seriously studied Kim Dokja’s expression, searching for any signs that it might be hurting him or affecting him, but Kim Dokja seemed… peaceful, aside from looking slightly exhausted.  

 

[41] shifted, allowing Kim Dokja to sink further back into him.  

 

They sat there in the quiet for a few minutes, until Tang Sanzang exhaled and leaned back, Sun Wukong’s arm going around her to support her.

 

Kim Dokja still looked off into the distance, still [Reading], until a tremor worked through him, and he exhaled sharply.  “I… understand.”

 

Tang Sanzang opened her eyes slowly, studying Kim Dokja, finding something there that wasn’t apparent to Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

“You don’t seem… surprised.”

 

Kim Dokja chewed on his lip.  “Like you said, I’ve [Read] the ‘scriptures’ before.”

 

“Tsk.  You’re not fooling anyone, Maknae-yah.”  Sun Wukong scolded.

 

Tang Sanzang laughed softly, her sly gaze flicking between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] before settling on Kim Dokja again.  “You must tell your Alphas about your… experiences in the Dark Fault.”

 

“After all, you’ve traveled deeper into the Fault more than anyone we know.”

Chapter 30: The Talk

Notes:

Apologies, again. The next chapter may be uploaded slower than usual at this time since work has gotten extremely busy for me recently.
Thank you for continuing to read!

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“Oppa, where’s that ugly ahjussi?”

 

[666] walked into the living room, following after [1864], the both of them choosing to sit near each other so they could both see Mia through the phone screen.  

 

“Mia.”  [1864] scolded softly.

 

“What? It’s a valid question.  He hasn’t been around for weeks now.”

 

「Was Mia… pouting?」

 

Before she left, they had agreed to weekly calls — based on the time of their dimension — so that they wouldn’t miss out on too much of her progress — and just because they missed having her around, no matter how bratty she could be sometimes.

 

But Mia wasn’t the only one they had been missing.  And, if [666] read between the words of her question correctly, maybe she was also missing Kim Dokja.

 

“They went to New City a few weeks ago.  They should be coming back soon.”  [666] responded, hoping that Mia wouldn’t hear the hint of obvious amusement coloring his tone.

 

“Well — !” She made an expression like she had bitten into a lemon.  “It’s about time, isn’t it?”

 

She looked off screen for a moment at the sound of someone walking out to the porch, before looking back at the phone.  “That ugly ahjussi said he would come visit after they went to New City, right?”

 

[666] traded a brief glance with [1864], feeling slightly uncomfortable with how to explain why they wouldn’t be able to visit Yoo Mia just yet.  

 

Two ‘new’ faces entered the screen, one on each side of Mia.

 

「What were those fools doing there?」

 

“Yes, when is Kim Dokja coming to the Dark Fault?”  [777] asked.

 

“He’s not all bark and no bite, right?”  [888] questions.

 

“Well, he’s an Omega, so he can’t really have a ‘bark’.  But as for the biting —“

 

But [777] was interrupted before he could finish that thought.

 

“Just because he’s an Omega doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a…bark.”  Mia wore a disgruntled expression.  “Omegas can have a ‘bark’, too .”

 

「...Could they?」

 

And, had their Mia — who had always been so stubborn about ignoring it before — defended her ‘Omega nature’ and Kim Dokja, in the same breath?

 

[666] tried to hide his shock, struggling to mute the growing pride he felt that Mia was starting to — if not totally accept — at least acknowledge her Omega side.

 

“Omegas don’t have a ‘bark’.  Only Alphas do.” [888] stated, looking at Mia incredulously.

 

“How do you know ?”  Mia sassed back.

 

“Well, it’s what they teach in biology, don’t they?” [777] rebutted, smiling wryly.

 

[1864] sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.  They watched as Mia’s expression became determined.

 

“What if… what if they got it wrong?  Everyone says how rare Omegas are.  How would anyone even really know?”  Mia asked, even though she still sounded unsure.

 

And it made [666] wonder what she and Kim Dokja usually talked about, since there were a few times when she had asked to speak with Kim Dokja alone.

 

“How could it be wrong?”  [888] challenged.

 

Mia’s expression became slightly uncertain.  “Well… that ugly ahjussi said —”

 

It was then that they heard the front door open, the sound of quiet voices and the thumping of shoes being removed was heard echoing down the short front hall, before the Omega in question walked into sight with [41] and Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

The couch jostled as [1864] stood and walked to Kim Dokja, [666] following right behind him.  

 

[666] absently handed the phone to [41] before sandwiching Kim Dokja between himself and [1864], breathing in Kim Dokja’s scent.  

 

And Kim Dokja let them, pressing back into [666] while pulling [1864] in tighter.

 

They stood that way for a moment, taking each other in, hearing the sounds of Mia speaking with [41] and Yoo Joonghyuk. 

 

Until.

 

“Hey, ahjussi, Omegas have a ‘bark’, too, right?”   

 

Kim Dokja stiffened for a moment before he let out a soft sigh and stepped out from between them.  

 

“Mia, how have you been doing with your lessons?”  

 

When Kim Dokja was handed the phone, the only reaction [666] noticed was a slight widening of Kim Dokja’s eyes upon seeing [777] and [888] there with Mia.

 

“I’m fine.  Ahjussi, don’t avoid the question.”  Mia narrowed her eyes at Kim Dokja.

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully.  “Is it… important if an Omega has a ‘bark’ or not?”

 

“You’re dodging the question, ahjussi.”  

 

“Not necessarily.  Just wondering if the question is the actual question, or if you really mean to ask something else.”

 

[666] blinked at that, before he remembered that Kim Dokja had spent a lot of time with the teacher of their Master.  

 

Mia wore a confused expression as she tried to figure out what he meant, while [777] opened his mouth.

 

“Well, biology says that Alphas are the only ones who have a ‘bark’.”

 

“So why would there be any other answer to such a simple question.”  [888] finished.

 

And [666] could only surreptitiously shake his head, warning them not to push too much.  He knew how [777] and [888] were always within the other’s orbit and sometimes the pair of them together could be… a lot for someone who didn’t know them well.

 

“…True…” Kim Dokja started, as he walked towards the couch.  [666] and [1864] followed after him, while Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] left to change out of their worn attire.

 

“But there are exceptions to everything, aren’t there?”  Then, as if smoothly redirecting the conversation, he asked.  “So what are you really asking, Mia?”

 

“Well… you said once that an Omega’s status can be just as strong as an Alpha’s.  But… no one can resist an Alpha’s ‘bark’.  So… what does an Omega have?”

 

Even [666] could hear what she really wanted to ask — still questioning her own abilities, questioning her own potential .

 

“An Omega doesn’t need to have a ‘bark’ to have power.  An Omega guide, even more so.”  Kim Dokja tilted his head slightly, giving Mia a meaningful look.  “Which Hoseong-ah should be helping you with — the guide part, at least.  We can work on your Omega nature when I get there.”

 

“And when will that be?”  She demanded, and [666] pretended not to notice how… anxious she sounded about that.

 

A light redness creeped across Kim Dokja’s cheeks.  “A-ah, that… well… maybe another few weeks…?”

 

“But it’s already been so long.  Why can’t you come sooner?”

 

Kim Dokja looked to [1864] and [666], then to Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] as they walked into the living room wearing fresher clothes.  

 

But then a new voice carried through the phone.  

 

“You’re supposed to be at lessons, Yoo Mia.  Master has been waiting for you for some time already.  What are you doing here?”

 

There was a pause.

 

Then.

 

“Is that my runaway disciple?”  

 

The moment Kyrgios Rodgraim was seen on the screen — maybe even before that — Kim Dokja had already jumped up from the couch, a rushed “ Talk to you later, something just came up, here — talk to Joonghyuk-ah and 41 ”, and handed the phone to Yoo Joonghyuk before rushing up the stairs.

 

[666] traded a quick glance with [1864] before chasing after him.

 

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Kim Dokja had escaped to the room he had borrowed during his previous stay.  He thought that, even though it had been weeks since he had last stayed, a faint trace of his scent still lingered in the space.  

 

It was good that he was able to escape before he had to confront his Master.  They hadn’t spoken in so long — mostly because Kim Dokja admittedly knew he was scared of his Master’s wrath after leaving so quickly, after his Master had finally agreed to teach him his techniques.

 

But also because Kim Dokja didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t have a very good explanation about why he had left without a word, without a message that could have been left for his Master.  

 

Even after he had started to resettle into this dimension, he hadn’t sent any explanation.

 

〈Not one that he could give just yet, anyway.〉  

 

Because Kim Dokja had found something when he had explored the abyss of the Dark Fault.  It had shaken him so thoroughly — shaken the origin of his own [Story] — that he ran out of there fast and not far enough, in his opinion.

 

For the teachings of his Master were much too close to the truth of their world.  

 

For a while now, Kim Dokja couldn’t help but feel that the [Truth] was very close to surfacing, and there was an irrational need for him to stop that from happening.

 

He knew the power of a [Story], was intimately familiar with it, and all he ever did was [Read].  

 

《But what happens when the [Reader] stops reading?》

 

And more importantly.

 

〔What happens when a [Dreamer] stops dreaming?〕

 

Well, he knew that if a [Reader] stops reading that doesn't mean life stops — this was one truth that he had learned while living for so long as a [Reader] himself.  A lot of the time the [Stories] were still there when he returned to a familiar place or met with the same person — carrying on with their storytelling whether he was there or not.  

 

But if a [Dreamer] stops dreaming, well then… 

 

「The dream stops, doesn't it?」

 

Never to be realized, never to be actualized — never to become probable .

 

And if the ‘Seekers of the End’ are what he thought they were — the pieces coming together from the murder victims, the involvement of the dokkaebi, and from the information he had gained from the ‘scriptures’...

 

He really does need to get his Alphas — and everyone else involved in this case — on the same page.

 

Kim Dokja looked up at the sound of scuffling feet, finding [666] standing in the doorway.  He hadn’t noticed that he had been followed, too caught up in his own thoughts and feelings.

 

And, although he and [666] hadn’t spent a lot of time together — since [666] had so many tasks to do being [1864]’s manager — Kim Dokja still felt comfortable with him regardless, so it was easy for him to reach out a hand to invite [666] in.  

 

[666] sat close to Kim Dokja, taking his hand in his own, and asked, “What’s bothering you?”

 

‘ Many things ’, he wanted to say.  Many things that he could not speak of, because if he did, he would only speak of it once .  

 

But there was one thing that was more pressing, that he would need to address with his Alphas first.

 

“My heat will start soon.  Maybe in the next week or so.”  Kim Dokja tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, when really he wanted to dive under the covers.  

 

This was the first time he had needed to speak about his heat in a long time, and it was definitely a new experience for him speaking about such intimate things with his 

Alphas — Alphas who he will likely be spending that time with.

 

He could also be honest with himself about feeling a little guilty, a little frustrated — a little angry — that his biology was interfering at such an important time. 

 

[666] likely picked up on this, his expression slightly uncertain as commented, “It sounds like… you wish you could skip it…?”  

 

Kim Dokja paused, the question making him think.  It could be the slight agitation itching beneath his skin — a common pre-heat symptom that was making him feel so irrational about the smallest things.  

 

He had fought for many years now to feel more comfortable in his own skin as an Omega, and being able to have regular heats was one of those accomplishments.  Even if he did have his cycles a little more often than was typical for an Omega, that didn’t negate the fact that he still worked hard to get it normalized.

 

So, why did it suddenly feel like such a… burden ?

 

“Not necessarily skip it… just put it off for a while longer…” Kim Dokja answered softly.

 

[666] nodded, then studied Kim Dokja’s expression.  “Did you know that our rut cycles aren’t all the same?”

 

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened slightly.  “What do you mean by that?”

 

“Yoo Joonghyuk and the rest of us… if we’re separated for too long, we tend to… desync our cycles, and we can get it at different times.”

 

Kim Dokja blinked slowly, his stuttering brain starting to catch up to the fact that Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts could have desynced cycles.  

 

Although Alphas experienced a rut cycle at most twice a year, Yoo Joonghyuk and the others could have it at any given time depending on how long they were away from the pack.

 

“How do you… mitigate that?” His curiosity to learn more about his Alphas distracted him from his own irritations.

 

“ A lot of discipline.  And a bit of medication.”

 

Kim Dokja winced in sympathy.  He knew what it was like to spend a heat without any ‘help’.  “H-how long do your ruts usually last?”

 

The corner of [666]’s mouth kicked up slightly.  “Yoo Joonghyuk said that his ruts used to last at least a week.  But after ‘transcendence’, it seemed to have shortened the span of the rut cycle to about two days.”  He shrugged.  “Small blessings.”

 

Kim Dokja blew out a breath in relief.  He was starting to realize what he had gotten himself into, and, typically, once an Omega and Alpha became a bonded pair, their cycles would usually sync together.  He just hoped that their bond would be, well, typical .

 

He paused at that thought.

 

Was he already thinking about bonding?  

 

「Is it too soon to consider the question?」  

 

Kim Dokja unconsciously started biting his lip.  

 

He didn’t know.  He had no prior experience and he never had thought about a relationship much less bonding with another before he had met Yoo Joonghyuk.  

 

Of course, he knew the meaning of a bond — taking a companion in life and death, their paths irrevocably merged and their battles always fought together — a decision not to be made lightly.

 

Maybe, subconsciously he had already made a decision — his Omega instincts only pulling him closer, binding him tighter to his chosen Alphas — because his Omega nearly purred at the thought of a bond.  

 

And Kim Dokja knew how deeply he would sink into those instincts during his heat, already able to imagine what it would feel like to bite .

 

A sense of… inevitability rushed through him just thinking about it.

 

[666] squeezed his hand lightly, interrupting his circling thoughts.  “What about your heats?  How long do they last?”

 

Kim Dokja laughed nervously.  “T-that…um… nine, maybe ten days.”

 

He felt [666] stiffen in shock, even though there wasn’t much of it shown on his expression other than a widening of his eyes, but it made Kim Dokja feel a bit self-conscious anyway.  

 

“You don’t need to stay for the whole…thing.  I know it’s abnormally long and I can get a bit — uh — feral during that time —“

 

“Kim Dokja.  I think that there are more than enough of us to help you through it.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk spoke from the doorway before walking in, followed by [41] and [1864].  [1863] had also followed in after them, immediately taking Kim Dokja into his arms and speaking words only meant for him to hear.

 

“Missed you.  I’m glad you returned safely.”

 

Kim Dokja was at a momentary loss for words.  He had heard similar sentiments from his family before, but for some reason it felt different coming from [1863].  It felt like finding that soft spot to land, like a place to finally rest.

 

Before he could formulate a response, [1863] was already releasing him and continuing the conversation from before.  

 

“Have your heats always been that long?”  

 

Kim Dokja sighed.  “Yes.  It’s been this way since I started having them regularly.”  

 

“You said that we’re the first Alphas you’ve been with.  How did you handle your heats for so long?”  [666] asked.

 

“W-well… technology mostly.  Toys, things like that…”  Kim Dokja replied.  He was starting to find that the more he talked, the easier it became to explain himself, so he didn’t really feel as embarrassed in confessing the rest of it.

 

“Plus, Urielle keeps sending me a lot of products from their Alpha line.  For research, she says, but, I never really have much feedback to give them, so…”

 

Kim Dokja hadn’t realized he had been looking at the floor the whole time until Yoo Joonghyuk guided his gaze up with a firm hand, grasping the nape of his neck.  And although Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression seemed blank, there was a hint of recognition there.

 

“Urielle?  From Eden?”

 

“Yes…?”  Kim Dokja responded, sounding slightly unsure.  But then he remembered.  “Ah, Urielle used to work at ERS, right?  Before she had to return to Eden to inherit the company?”

 

[41]’s expression looked disgruntled as he added.  “Yeah.  She was also the one who dragged us out of our old apartment.  She never let it go.”

 

“Ah, she never told me that.”  

 

“So.  Toys… from Eden… Was it enough?”  [1864] asked, and Kim Dokja wasn’t sure if he imagined the slight growl trembling beneath those words. 

 

Kim Dokja exhaled sharply.  “No.  It was never enough.”  He shrugged.  “But I didn’t want to handle it any other way, so I just… pushed through.”

 

“Not even with… Betas?”  [1863] bit off a snarl at the end, the possessiveness in his voice readily apparent.

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  He could feel the corner of his mouth tick up slightly at the warmth blooming in his chest — something like a… validation that he wasn’t the only one feeling — no, falling so fast and so deeply into what they were building between them. 

 

“If you didn’t have anyone there, how did you… feed yourself?”

 

“Ah, well, at first, Dr. Makerfield had found a way to emulate an Alpha’s bark, if that makes sense…?”  

 

Kim Dokja leaned into the hand curling at his nape at Yoo Joonghyuk’s bewildered expression.  “Her speciality has always been Omega care, especially since there are so few Omegas to study.  Anyway, it was something she had started with when she initially began her research.  Of course, she quickly abandoned it once she realized the implications and possible dangers of an Alpha’s bark being captured in such a way.  And she only brought it out again when she took me on as a patient.”

 

Kim Dokja closed his eyes, if only to hide for a moment before explaining.  “My mind wasn’t in the best place when I first ‘awakened’ as an Omega.  It took a lot of… healing and acceptance and reconciliation with that part of myself.  Dr. Makerfield continued to monitor me, and respected my decision on experiencing my heats alone.”

 

“Did it work?  Using a recorded Alpha’s bark?”  [41] asked, equal parts jealousy and curiosity in his voice.

 

“It only worked for the first few heat cycles.  After that… it was only effective in the sense that… it kept me grounded — almost like a reminder that there was another…predator in my nest.”  

 

Kim Dokja opened his eyes slowly, wanting to read their expressions when he confessed.  “It’s why I’m not… entirely sure how it will be if you help me during my heat.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk studied his face, searching for something.  “How do you feel about a bond?” 

 

Even though it still shocked Kim Dokja when Yoo Joonghyuk asked the question, it didn’t leave him feeling shaken since it was something he had already been considering discussing with his Alphas.

 

“I… is it too early to consider bonding?”  He asked.  “We’ve only just started our relationship… A bond is… permanent.”

 

[41] cocked his head.  “Maybe we weren’t clear.  We started to court you with every intention that it would become permanent .”

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a sharp breath.  “B-but you’ve only known me for a few months at most .  How are you so sure that you would want to bond with an Omega—”  

 

〈 Like me .〉

 

He choked on the last words, afraid that all of his insecurities would come pouring out and not wanting to make this about that.  

 

However it was — is about that .  

 

And maybe Yoo Joonghyuk had learned to read him just as easily, no matter how short of a time it seemed since they had started this relationship.  

 

“I want a bond.  With you , Kim Dokja.”  Then, almost as if realizing something, Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the other Alphas in the room.  “Although, we’re not sure how that will be…”

 

[666] seemed to pick up on the thread of the idea.  “Maybe we have Kim Dokja bond with one of us first, before trying a bond with Joonghyuk.  To see how — or even if the bond would carry.”

 

[1863] added, “I suspect that, if we can desync our rut cycles… when we’re ‘separate’ from Yoo Joonghyuk, it may be the same with a bond.”  

 

“W-wait, then shouldn’t we think a little longer about bonding?”  Kim Dokja questioned, feeling as if he were standing at the edge of something, not knowing which way to fall.  

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk only returned his gaze to Kim Dokja, resolve sparking in his eyes.  “You can bond us.  We’ll wait until you’re ready for us to bond you.”

 

The shock of those words made Kim Dokja speechless, his mouth slightly dropping open.  Did Yoo Joonghyuk really just propose a half-bond ?  With him ?  

 

“But then… that would mean…”  He didn’t know what he could say that wasn’t already said.  And it would be disingenuous to his Alphas — and even to himself — if he started listing all of the reasons why a bond so soon would be a “bad” thing.  

 

Especially since he feels the same way about it as his Alphas do.  

 

Still, Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to understand.  “I can’t speak to the experience of what a half-bond will be like, but we will find out.  Together.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk brushed his thumb gently across cheek.  “Kim Dokja.  You’re worth the wait.”

 

Kim Dokja didn’t know if he wanted to cry, or scream, or — there were too many emotions clamoring, too many ideas trying to be heard, contradicting each other — acceptance of himself, of his own worthiness clashing with the knee-jerk reaction of his worthlessness, that he was never enough and only meant to be alone.

 

But before he could untangle any of it or form a semblance of a response, a knock was heard at the front door.  

 

Which was strange.  

 

Strange because they shouldn’t have been able to hear it in this second floor room.  

 

And yet, they did, clear as a cloudless sky.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wore an unreadable expression as he continued to study Kim Dokja for a moment longer, before turning and leaving to answer the door, followed closely by [41] and [1864].  

 

However, it didn’t take long for [41] to return to the room, wearing a strange expression.  “Kim Dokja.  Is there a reason why there would be a dokkaebi asking for you?”

 

Kim Dokja became confused by the question.  He hadn’t contacted anyone since his return from New City, so then why…

 

He felt a slight nudge against his side, remembering that he was still wearing his coat.

 

「Could it be...?」

 

He stood, walking quickly out of the room and down the stairs.  

 

And like the dokkaebi had already sensed him coming, he spoke as he turned to face him.

 

“Kim Dokja.  You can’t just feed a dokkaebi any old story, you know?  I’ve told you this ever since we first met.”

 

The dokkaebi looked at him with a critical stare.  

 

“So why has the [Story] of the Dokkaebi King changed owners?”

Chapter 31: The Dokkaebi

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[999] had never met a dokkaebi in person before.  He had also never expected to meet one for the first time in their house .  

 

〈And yet a dokkaebi was here.〉

 

He had just returned home from afternoon training with Lee Jihye to find one sitting in their living room.

 

Although [999] had a better understanding of why the dokkaebi lived separately from the human species after Kim Dokja had shared the story of the Dokkaebi King, he was still trying to figure out why the dokkaebi had taken over the Bureau of ABO Affairs.  

 

He knew the Bureau mostly operated in regulating the ABO aspect of their species by putting policies in place and more or less enforcing those policies.  The Bureau also worked in tandem with ERS, which regulated the esper and guide aspects of their population.  

 

However, the dokkaebi at the Bureau rarely dealt face-to-face with humans, utilizing the manpower of ERS for physical altercations, and other humans employed at the Bureau for everything else.  

 

But, if one did end up meeting a dokkaebi in person, it was usually because that person had crossed too far over the line.   

 

Which led him to the second thing he had never thought to witness ever in his life.

 

“How exactly was I supposed to stop it from eating a [Story], Bihyung?  I couldn’t even stop the [Story] from following me there in the first place.”  Kim Dokja said, sounding exasperated.  

 

[999] was sitting on the end of the couch in the living room where everyone was gathered, and no one would blame him for being there to watch the spectacle of Kim Dokja talking so casually with a dokkaebi.  

 

It was also his curiosity that had drawn him in, maybe even a bit of wanting to stay in Kim Dokja’s orbit for a little longer, as he hadn’t seen his Omega for weeks.

 

「But, what were they talking about — what exactly was Kim Dokja… feeding?」

 

The dokkaebi, Bihyung, just looked at Kim Dokja incredulously.  “Isn’t that the reason you learned [Story Control] in the first place?”

 

Kim Dokja sighed heavily.  “Don’t be obtuse.  That’s not how the technique works and you know it.  I can’t control every aspect of a [Story] one hundred percent of the time.  Especially when it isn’t my [Story].”

 

Bihyung huffed in response, conceding the point as he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.  “So.  Where is it then?”

 

Kim Dokja just stared at Bihyung for a moment longer, before reaching into his coat ‘pocket’ and extracting a —

 

What the heck was [999] seeing right now?!

 

He felt such a visceral reaction to the glowing object that Kim Dokja held in his hands — a wave of hot and cold permeating his chest — that he started to feel dizzy after looking at the object for too long.  

 

From what [999] could glimpse, the object looked to be shaped like an ellipses and was glowing faintly with a cold light that seemed to reflect a shifting rainbow of colors yet swallowing them all at once.

 

Bihyung didn’t reach for the object at all, just sat and stared at it with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide in awe.

 

“Where…?”  

 

It seemed that was all Bihyung could think to say.

 

Kim Dokja traded a glance with Yoo Joonghyuk before answering.  “There was a time rift in New City.  It contained the house of a murder victim.”

 

Kim Dokja’s eyes sharpened as he continued, “Specifically a victim that was murdered by a dokkaebi a few years back.”

 

[999] thought back to what they knew about the previous case, and could not remember it mentioning dokkaebi involvement anywhere.  

 

「Was Kim Dokja just…bluffing?」

 

Bihyung bared his fangs.  “How are you so sure?”

 

Kim Dokja just stared, his eyes becoming slightly unfocused as he examined things that [999] knew he couldn’t fathom to understand.  But sometimes silence could apply the right amount of pressure to find the answer to a question.

 

「Sometimes maybe even get a dokkaebi to corroborate a theory.」

 

“Dokkaebi don’t like humans.”  Bihyung shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and sighed.  

 

“But the dokkaebi have still involved themselves with humans, anyway — specifically ABO affairs.”  [666] pointed out.

 

Bihyung winced.  “True.  But it’s not necessarily by choice.”

 

〈What was that supposed to mean?〉

 

There was a moment of silence as Bihyung’s thoughts turned inward, his expression changing as if having an internal debate, before he nodded to himself.  

 

“What I’m about to tell you must stay between us.  And I am only telling you because you’ve already tied yourself irrevocably to an [Ancient Story] by finding that .”  Bihyung said as he pointedly looked at the glowing object.

 

[999] was getting more and more confused, and more and more agitated at the fact that he didn’t quite understand what was going on here — his Alpha instincts waking up and making him bare his teeth in a silent snarl.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk noticed, and shot him a look — telling him to keep his irritation in check — which [999] tried his best to do, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

 

“What exactly is an ‘ancient story’?”

 

Bihyung quickly glanced at [999] before staring intensely at the glowing object again, his expression becoming slightly uncertain.

 

“An [Ancient Story] is…a [Story] that has always happened.  It is also a [Story] that is always happening.  And it is also a [Story] that will happen.”   

 

Kim Dokja added, his voice soft, “It is a [Story] that will always be ‘true’.  And can only be understood when the ‘truth’ is found.”  

 

Kim Dokja shook his head, his gaze becoming clearer.  “An [Ancient Story] is not… linear.  It’s not even circular.  It’s a [Story] that may start from a singular origin, but over time becomes something wild, much like… a tree…”

 

Bihyung growled low in warning, causing Kim Dokja to look at him — the both of them having a silent conversation.

 

Unseen currents brushed past [999], encompassing them, forming into a familiar [Wall] as Bihyung started protesting.

 

“Kim Dokja, this isn’t a good idea.  We’d be safer speaking of it in the Dark Fault.”

 

“I understand.  I’ll discuss it with them when we get to the Dark Fault.  However, there is another [Story] I need to ask you about.”  

 

There’s a momentary pause as the [Wall] completes its construction, before Kim Dokja continued, “Bihyung-ah.  Do you know the ‘Seekers of the End’?”

 

“Where did you hear that?”  Bihyung demanded, and [999] found himself gripping the handle of his practice weapon, ready to draw it in defense against the threat.

 

However Kim Dokja remained unfazed.  “It was from the second victim — then at the first victim’s house…”  

 

Kim Dokja paused, his gaze shifting between Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].  “I also found similar [Words] at the location of the first victim’s house.”  

 

“Where the dokkaebi egg was found.”  Yoo Joonghyuk noted, his expression blank — likely hiding his irritation beneath.

 

Kim Dokja looked at them apologetically.  “I hadn’t realized it meant anything until Sanzang-ah allowed me to read the ‘scriptures’ more clearly.”  

 

“You were able to read the ‘scriptures’ in its entirety ?”  Bihyung questioned, his expression only getting worse when Kim Dokja nodded.

 

[999] gripped the handle of his practice weapon a little tighter, the tension in the room chokingly palpable, until Bihyung sighed, long and loud.  “Getting involved with the Seekers of the End is dangerous.”

 

Bihyung’s gaze turned sharper.  “But you already knew that.”

 

Bihyung scanned over the faces of everyone in the room, studying them closely.  “The Seekers of the End are… basically a cult with destructive intentions.  Well, their title is pretty self explanatory, anyway.”

 

“So what is this ‘end’ that they are ‘seeking’?”

 

“The end of everything, of course.”  Bihyung smiled sadly.  “Your species has always been rather… self-destructive, for whatever reason.”

 

Then, Bihyung turned to Kim Dokja.  “Have you spoken to them about the Wenny Man?”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.

 

“What about the [Truth] of this world?”

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.

 

〈What exactly was this ‘truth’ ?〉

 

Bihyung nodded. “Good.  Only speak of it when in the Dark Fault.”

 

〈And why did everything lead back to the Dark Fault?〉

 

[999] seemed to only have more and more questions the longer the conversation continued, with no answers in sight.

 

Bihyung’s expression turned worried.  “We believe that the Wenny Man has been able to communicate from the In-Between.  It’s how the Seekers of the End first formed.”

 

“Since when has this been happening?”  [41] asked, his own voice sounding worried.

 

“We don’t know.  We only discovered hints of it when —“  Bihyung swallowed roughly.  “Dokkaebi have been… disappearing in the past maybe ten years or so.  But it’s only been in the past few years that we’ve been able to make the connection to the Seekers of the End.”

 

Kim Dokja made a small, pained noise.  “Bihyung-ah… how come you haven’t told me about this?”

 

Bihyung huffed.  “Well I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

 

And [999] couldn’t help but agree with that, feeling a little better about this dokkaebi’s intentions when it came to Kim Dokja.

 

“But now that you are involved, I’m telling you about it.  Especially now that we have the next Dokkaebi King in the making.”

 

[999] turned to Kim Dokja — the suspicion that the object was likely a dokkaebi egg solidifying — searching Kim Dokja’s expression for even a hint that Bihyung may be wrong about this 

 

— The creeping feeling that Kim Dokja had put himself in another dangerous situation causing a low rumble to reverberate in his chest. 

 

And it wasn’t only [999] who was feeling some kind of way about this.

 

“We should have left the egg.”  [41] said, barely restraining his own disapproving growl.

 

However, Bihyung shook his head.  “No.  It was good that you brought it with you.  If it fell into the hands of the Seekers of the End, then we’d be rushing headlong towards…well, the end.”

 

Bihyung took a deep breath before continuing.  “The first… ‘victim’, as you call him, was a Seeker of the End.  It was why his [Story] was stolen.”  Bihyung’s expression turned serious.  “And it was why his body was left to be discovered.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze sharpened.  “So.  You admit that he was murdered by a dokkaebi.”

 

Bihyung’s smile was sharp — all of his teeth on display — when he answered.  “Now, I didn’t say that.”  Bihyung waved his hand in the air, brushing it aside.  “Anyway, it was meant as a warning.”

 

“And the second victim?”  Kim Dokja asked, and [999] noticed how he lightly squeezed Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand — a silent message to not intervene.  

 

Bihyung stared intently at Kim Dokja, his gaze softening slightly when he opened his mouth to speak.  “Kim Dokja… Dokja-yah, I’ve watched your [Story] for a long time now — been with you through most of it…”

 

Kim Dokja seemed to read another message in those words.  “The Bureau knows about my ability.”  

 

[999] didn’t miss how his voice shook slightly as he said that.

 

Bihyung sounded sympathetic as he answered.  “I tried my best to hide it from them.”

 

“But that damned [Story Core] followed you and… well, it being a foundational [Story] for all dokkaebi — especially because we’ve been without a King for so long…”

 

Bihyung’s gaze tried to convey the depth of his sincerity.  “I’m sorry , Dokja-yah.”

 

Kim Dokja swallowed roughly as Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him closer.  “So then, the second victim was…?”

 

Bihyung winced.  “A warning for the Seekers, but…also… a message.  For you.”

 

Kim Dokja nodded distractedly, his expression still troubled.  “But how… how did they even know I would see the body?  I’ve never worked directly with ERS.  And this is my first murder case where Han Sooyoung has asked me to help.  So… how…?”

 

Kim Dokja searched Bihyung’s expression while Bihyung sat silently, meeting Kim Dokja’s gaze.  [999] couldn’t help but notice that Bihyung’s grim expression seemed slightly… angry?

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a sharp breath.  “ No .”

 

Bihyung nodded, his expression remaining grim.

 

A snarl left Kim Dokja’s throat.  “The Bureau used their ‘probability’ for this ?”

 

「’Probability’?」

 

“ Yes .”  Bihyung’s answering growl was just as fierce, his anger at the situation becoming more apparent.  

 

Kim Dokja was silent, forcing himself to calm down, before asking, “When did it start?”

 

Bihyung studied Kim Dokja carefully as he answered, “How do you think the case file left New City?”

 

Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk traded glances.  Even though Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression remained blank, because [999] knew Yoo Joonghyuk inside and out — and because [999] was also feeling the same — he knew there was a certain type of frustration and anger at the situation simmering beneath the surface — their protective instincts waking up and wanting to get rid of the threat to their Omega.

 

As Kim Dokja seemed to have a silent conversation with Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja murmured, “But the Bureau would not have been able to predict that I would find this egg.  No matter how much probability they used.”  

 

And, like a shark sensing blood in the water, Bihyung smiled.  “You’re right.  Those old fools wouldn’t have been able to see this at all.”

 

Kim Dokja turned back to Bihyung, his expression serious.  “I’ll need your help.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I want a contract .”

 

Bihyung nodded.  Then, almost as if it were an afterthought, he said, “You should be the one to care for this dokkaebi egg.”

 

Kim Dokja grumbled, “I will not use it as a bargaining chip —”

 

Bihyung held up his hands placatingly.  “I know.  That’s not what I’m saying.”

 

Kim Dokja looked at him dubiously.  

 

“Well, that’s not all I’m saying.”  Bihyung sighed.  “I don’t think it should be raised in the Bureau.  I think that…”  Bihyung’s expression turned distant, as if he were recalling something, before softly saying.  “I think that this dokkaebi should see your [Story].  Like I did.”

 

“Some [Stories] can only be understood by experiencing it.  Something the fools at the Bureau seem to have forgotten.”

 

Kim Dokja seemed to become calmer with those words, his gaze turning to look at the egg, likely seeing something that [999] couldn’t.

 

Kim Dokja spoke absently, his voice sounding distant.  “I’ll visit the Bureau only after this dokkaebi is born.  It may be a few weeks until then.  Can you buy me some time?”

 

Bihyung squinted his eyes in thought for a moment before nodding.  “I can.”

 

“I want no interference from the Bureau, probability or otherwise, until then.”

 

Bihyung nodded.  “Agreed.”  Bihyung’s expression turned apologetic.  “Just so you know, I didn’t agree with the Bureau’s methods.”

 

Kim Dokja hummed.  “Well, if it is as you say it happened, then the Bureau had set things in motion before you really had any power to do anything.”  

 

He shrugged, a small, sad smile on his face.  “Nothing you or I could have done anyway.”

 

Bihyung huffed.  “Right.  I’ll try to buy some time drafting the contract with them.”

 

Kim Dokja nodded in agreement.  “Send it to Jang Hayoung when it’s ready.  Until then I won’t be doing any ‘business’ with them.”

 

Kim Dokja’s gaze grew serious.  “If they do anything before then, I’ll take it as a declaration of ill intent on their part.”

 

“Then I’ll show them how to wield ‘probability’ properly .”

 

[999] couldn’t agree more.

Notes:

Thank you, Readers, for your continued patience with the longer-than-usual upload schedule. Apologies that the longer-than-usual upload intervals will go on a little longer due to my work schedule.
Still, words can't express enough my appreciation and happiness for your continued support in reading this work!

Chapter 32: The Heat, Part 1 (*)

Notes:

Warning
Descriptions of sexual acts (with more than two people) under the (implied) influence of pheromones/aphrodisiacs, and sexual kinks such as praise, (very) light degradation/humiliation, and (very) light sub/dom dynamics.

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It had been much too long since Kim Dokja had been in his apartment.  The feeling was only sharpened by the fact his heat was just around the corner and he was missing the comfort of his nest.

 

His Omega instincts were clambering to the forefront of his thoughts, urging him to hunker down and burrow beneath soft things in preparation.  These were feelings that he had long grown used to since it was typical for his cycles.  

 

What was new to him was the particular need to have his Alphas near him — always, constantly, to the point where he knew logically that it was extremely irrational .  But, of course, rational logic had no effect on his emotional state.  

 

It had also been much too long since he had been alone like this, without any of his Alphas accompanying him.

 

It didn’t matter that his Alphas had jobs and a life outside of him.  Even though they had things to take care of — not only because they had spent longer than planned in New City, but also because they would be… unavailable for the duration of his heat — it didn’t change the fact that he keenly felt that his Alphas weren’t in easy reach, a restless itch creeping just beneath his skin.  

 

He understood that it was likely due to something with their biology — his body craving for his Alphas’ specific pheromones — craving the smallest scrap of their scent, their warmth, their comfort.  

 

His irritable state was only exacerbated by the fact that he was so needy for it, a reflection of the dissonance between his heart and his rational mind.  

 

It also didn’t help that the idea of a bond — even a half -bond — was a thought that was circling his thoughts ever since it was brought up between him and his Alphas.  He understood that this too was biology — a combination of compatibility and venom injected by a bite that tied a pair together.  

 

However, even though it could be reduced to “just biology”, it didn’t erase the fact that a bond was also more than that — something beyond the physical — maybe even transcending space and time and reality.  

 

Because Kim Dokja had witnessed the synchronicity between his bonded adoptive parents.

 

He was cognizant that it could have just been because of the centuries they had already spent together, learning the ins and outs and particular quirks about each other.  But there was something that he always [Read] in the air between his parents — [Words] overlapping so precisely, getting tangled in each other so tightly — a reflection of an intangible link — a feeling that was caught somewhere between the warmth of love and the relief of finding home and the assurance of unbreakable faith.

 

Since the moment he stepped into Yoo Joonghyuk’s orbit, Kim Dokja couldn’t help but feel that he wanted that feeling for himself .

 

His rational mind kept circling around to the fact that they hadn’t known each other that long, that they were still something new, still finding the path together.  

 

But. 

 

A larger and louder part of him felt that they had known each other forever — that there wouldn’t be any other Alphas for him, that no other would compare.

 

That Kim Dokja was ready and willing to put his faith in these Alphas — intertwine his fate with theirs — 

 

《Companions in life and death.》

 

「Because, really, wasn’t it their choice in the end?」  

 

Kim Dokja sighed to himself, unknowingly releasing his scent, as he walked through his apartment to his room.  

 

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the door, trailing his fingers lightly across the spines of books as he weaved his way to one of the many cozy nooks, where he removed his coat and curled into the mound of pillows.  He reached into his coat ‘pocket’, bringing out the dokkaebi egg that still glowed with a soft light.  

 

As he became lost in the shifting nebula dancing across its surface, he let himself think about the fact that the dokkaebis had sensed the change in [Storyteller].  It made him wonder as to what extent the dokkaebis were now aware of the [Story] of the Dokkaebi King.

 

Still, this issue would only be resolved by visiting the Bureau, which he wasn’t keen on doing anytime soon.

 

And, more importantly, he needed to figure out what it really meant to raise a dokkaebi.

 

With Bihyung, he hadn’t really done much.  By the time he had snuck back into his old apartment, Bihyung had already been coming out of his own egg, and it had freaked a young Kim Dokja out so much that, after he had come to his senses, he shut the door to his old room and escaped to hide in the alleyway near his building.  Yet, even though he had tried to muster up the courage to return to his old apartment while hunkering down, he ended up taking the safer route and returned home.  Unfortunately, Bihyung had somehow followed him.

 

It was only later that Kim Dokja found out that it was because Bihyung had found the tail end of Kim Dokja’s [True Story] that had lingered behind.  The newly born dokkaebi had eaten up the stray [Words] — including all of the other [Stories] that he may have stumbled across along the way — so that by the time he had popped into Kim Dokja’s room within the Dark Fault, communicating with Bihyung was as easy as breathing.

 

From Bihyung’s instruction, it seemed as if Kim Dokja only needed to feed the baby dokkaebi ‘good’ [Stories].  

 

But, what stumped Kim Dokja the most is what exactly is a ‘ good [Story]’?

 

〚How do you show a [Dreamer] the importance of a dream?〛

 

Kim Dokja looked around him, scanning the titles of the books to his right, turning over what he recalled the stories were about.

 

Until he stopped on a particular title.

 

〘King of a Kingless World〙

 

He pulled it from the shelf and started flipping through it, remembering certain paragraphs and sentences that resonated with him.

 

However the most impactful sentence was the first sentence of the book.

 

〔This story began by destroying that throne.〕

 

Kim Dokja felt the corner of his mouth turn up, nostalgia softly filling his chest, as he thought that maybe a ' good [Story]' really meant an important [Story] — a [Story] that can teach the baby dokkaebi something real about this world.

 

「Just like how one would care for a child.」

 

That thought made him pause.  

 

〈Was that really what he was doing here — taking care of this dokkaebi — the future Dokkaebi King ?〉

 

His breaths grew shorter, something like cotton seeming to clog his chest, as the pressure of responsibilities boxed him in, trapping his mind in his circling thoughts.  

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed like this.  

 

Until.  

 

He slowly became aware of a soft warmth permeating through his palms, allowing him to break past the spiraling panic and take a deep breath.  

 

“Thank you.”  He whispered, not feeling the least bit foolish for thinking that the dokkaebi egg understood him and helped to bring him back.

 

It only solidified his decision that 〘King of a Kingless World〙 would be a good place to start in teaching this dokkaebi about this world.  

 

And so he began reading.

 

It was a good distraction from his restless Omega instincts.  

 

〈For now.〉

 

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[1864] had just finished his last scheduled match for the day — a one-versus-one competition against his long-time rival, Fei Hu from the Team : Emperor Sect — and had to take a moment to ground himself back in reality after fighting in the virtual world for more than an hour.  He tended to get fully immersed in the game, his abilities instinctively drawn out even when he wasn’t actively trying to use them, especially when going against other particularly skilled players.  

 

He could admit that Fei Hu was an exceptionally skilled opponent since [1864] had played matches against him on more than one occasion.   

 

However, Fei Hu still had yet to defeat him.  [1864] couldn’t help but feel slightly smug about it.  

 

He was taking off his headphones when his gaze strayed to a brand new computer setup next to him, similar to what Kim Dokja had at his office.

 

The reason it was so similar was because it was meant as a courting gift for Kim Dokja from [1864] and [666] — both of them secretly hoping that it would mean that Kim Dokja could spend more time here with them.  

 

They just hadn’t had the chance to present it to him yet.

 

When Kim Dokja had returned, [1864] had noticed that he looked exhausted from the trip and presenting their courting gift could wait until after Kim Dokja had a chance to properly rest.  

 

Plus their Omega had expressed his need to return to his apartment in order to prepare for his upcoming heat.

 

At the thought, a shiver of arousal rolled down [1864]’s spine.

 

[1864] felt his mouth tick up as he remembered how Kim Dokja had shyly asked each of them for something with their scent to take back with him.  

 

But that had already been a few days ago.  Since then, they had rotated in staying with Kim Dokja at his apartment in between their work schedules.  

 

Maybe after this heat, Kim Dokja would like to set up a nest here, as well.

 

Anything to get their Omega to stay closer to them. 

 

If [1864] remembered correctly, [666] had gone into the city to take care of contract negotiations for a few sponsorships before heading over to Kim Dokja’s apartment.  It wouldn’t make much of a difference if [1864] headed over there, too.  The constant pull, the ever present addiction to having, wanting, needing Kim Dokja constantly in his orbit — [1864] had already accepted it all.  

 

He stood from his chair, taking a moment to stretch because he had been sitting for so long, before he left his office.  

 

The sense of… anticipation had been palpable in the house over the past few days, everyone on edge, clearing their work schedules as much as possible in preparation for their Omega’s heat — the fact that this was the first Omega, the first heat that they would attend to only adding fuel to the slowly rising fire.

 

Over the past days after Kim Dokja had returned to his apartment, they had planned and discussed how it would go, agreeing that they would take it in shifts so as not to overcrowd Kim Dokja’s nest and also to take care of food and other necessities outside of the nest.  

 

Deep in his thoughts, [1864] had wandered past the kitchen — where [81] had been preparing quick-heating meals to take to Kim Dokja’s apartment — down to the basement training room, where he found [2] and [999] sparring, both of them likely trying to workout out their anxious aggression.

 

Especially [2], he thought.  

 

[2] wore the collar around his neck like a badge of honor, never removing it, keeping it on even during training.  

 

[1864] had the urge to ask if [2] would leave it on during Kim Dokja’s heat.  

 

As a precaution, it was acknowledged that if they didn’t want Kim Dokja to bond with them just yet, they would wear a protective collar.  So, as [1864] leaned against the wall watching them spar, he found himself wondering how [2] would fair.  Because, even though they all shared each other’s memories when returning to Yoo Joonghyuk, sharing the same experiences was a different matter entirely.    

 

Adding to that the fact that Kim Dokja expressed that he was a bit apprehensive about how he would react with Alphas in his nest when his Omega instincts would dominate his more rational mind…

 

The vibration of his phone shook him from his thoughts and he absently pulled it out to check who had messaged him.

 

It was from [666].  

 

Kim Dokja had started his heat.

 

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Kim Dokja had been sleeping for longer periods over the past few days — a normal pre-heat symptom as his body prepared itself for the hormonal onslaught.  And, if he really didn’t get the message, then his increasing dependency — craving to have his Alphas’ scents near, even going so far as to build a nest using their clothes within the nook he had holed himself in while he fed stories to the dokkaebi egg — was an all too obvious warning that he couldn’t ignore.  

 

Apparently his maternal instinct was also making itself known, as he felt a deep satisfaction when taking care of the dokkaebi egg, packing it tightly in the makeshift nest with him.  When his Alphas would spend time with him, they would all be packed in the makeshift nest together — no matter how unreasonably tight it was.  However Kim Dokja didn’t mind since it meant he would be pressed tightly against his Alpha and he could hold the egg close to his chest.

 

And, if he really, really didn’t get the message, the temperature spikes were a more definite warning sign that his heat was imminent.  

 

So, when he had woken up that afternoon feeling feverish — a simmering burn that didn’t abate even when standing under the cold spray of the shower — he knew that his heat had finally started.  

 

While he was still coherent, he quickly messaged [41] and [666], thinking that out of all of his Alphas, they would be the most attentive to their phones.  He kept his message simple, notifying them of his condition and asking them to come to his nest when they were… ‘available’.

 

He barely dried himself off before he stumbled to the nook where the dokkaebi egg was buried, dragging out [1864]’s hoodie that had been weaved into the one of the makeshift nest walls and pulling it over his head.  

 

Since the dokkaebi egg would stay outside of his nest during his heat, he tucked the egg further into the pillows and clothes, putting in a few books just because it felt right to do so — some other instinct whispering to him as he slipped deeper and deeper into that more primitive part of himself.

 

A light sheen of sweat was starting to dew on the surface of his skin when he stood up to survey his work, adjusting a pillow here and a shirt there until he was satisfied.  

 

Kim Dokja didn’t know when his Alphas would be able to get there, so he grabbed a few snacks from the kitchen and turned on the lowlights in the living room.  He was glad for their preparation beforehand — cases of water and sports drinks already stored in a corner of his nest the day before — because as he stood in the hallway, struggling to remember if there was anything else he needed to take care of, he doubled over clutching his stomach.  A wave of intense pain blossomed in his abdomen, the muscles clenching tightly for what felt like an eternity before releasing again.  

 

He panted through it, leaning against the wall, using it for support to stagger to his room.  The journey to his nest seemed like it was miles long as the cramps came in bursts, his mind vaguely aware of the slick running down his legs and dripping to the floor, his feet leaving a trail of wet footprints.

 

〈A trail for his Alphas to follow.〉

 

When he finally reached his nest, he fell to his knees on the soft cushions, burrowing into the clothes weaved between the pillows, desperately seeking out the scents of his Alphas.  

 

He couldn’t tell if there were subtle shifts to differentiate the individual pheromones of each of his Alphas, or if it was the [Words] — phrases — [Stories] that were soaked into their things that allowed him to tell which belonged to whom.  If he were to guess it would probably be the latter — he is a [Reader] after all, and was there anything that could comfort him more than a good [Story]?

 

Well, maybe a ‘good’ Alpha would compare now that he had them.  

 

And, as the haze started to cloud his mind, he didn’t care about the particulars as he brought each piece of clothing he could get his hands on to his nose, inhaling deeply, before searching for the place to tuck it into between the pillows and other soft materials.  

 

At the edges of his mind where logic and reason still existed, he felt the dampness of sweat starting to soak through the hoodie, smelled the stronger, more potent heat pheromones steadily saturating the space, licked dry lips and swallowed roughly, his throat parched.  

 

The Omega was waking up inside of him, a sense of feeling wronged causing a whimper to slip from his mouth — because his Alphas weren’t really here , that their pheromones weren’t properly mingling with his — that their cum wasn’t quenching his thirst .

 

Somehow he crawled over to the cases of water, tearing open the packaging to greedily drink a bottle, some of it dripping through his clenched teeth as a painful cramp gripped him.  

 

For a moment, the intense pain focused his mind instead of dulling it, his gaze drifting to a small box near the bottles of water — a gift that 81 had given to him.  

 

Not a courting gift, [81] had specifically clarified, assuring that that would come later from him.  

 

Kim Dokja felt his hole flutter in anticipation, electric arousal shooting down his spine as he remembered what [81] said it was for.

 

『“It’s a collar for you, Kim Dokja.  Wear it if you don’t want to be claimed.  Because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from devouring you .  I don’t have that much restraint left when it comes to you.”』

 

He forced himself to drink more water — the years of going through his heats alone making it easier for him to hold on just a bit longer to his rational self.

 

Still.  His gaze drifted to the collar as the minutes ticked by.  

 

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When [41] received Kim Dokja’s message and relayed it to Yoo Joonghyuk, they had been in the middle of training drills with the rookies, putting them through their paces so they wouldn’t get rusty during the slower work schedule.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had to practice his own self restraint so as not to drop everything and rush to his Omega immediately.  

 

So, as calmly as he could, he found another senior esper to take over the training, before heading deeper into their office to the Director’s office.

 

It’s good that the door was already open, making it simpler to just lean in and tell Yoo Sangah that they’d be leaving early today and to remind her that they would be out for the next two weeks.  

 

Specifically reminding her not to contact them with anything work related.

 

Yoo Sangah merely smiled softly in response.  “Understood, Joonghyuk-ssi.  Please take care of Dokja-ssi.”

 

He nodded once, then turned to leave — and did he imagine the hint of sly coyness in that smile, reminding him too much of Han Sooyoung?

 

As he rounded the corner, he found [41] waiting for him, a duffle bag roughly pushed into his arms.  

 

“Shower first.”  [41] grunted, grasping his own duffle bag to head toward the bath facilities.

 

It took a moment for Yoo Joonghyuk to reign in his Alpha instincts that were on the brink of going out of control — instincts that were telling him to hurry , his Omega is waiting for him — and remembered that he had the scents of others sticking to him that he absolutely did not want to take into the nest with them.  

 

So he showered.  It was likely the fastest he had ever done so in his life, [41] following not much further behind him as they left the office to their car.

 

When they were on their way, he asked [41] if the others were aware.  [41] rumbled positively in response, and Yoo Joonghyuk returned his focus to the road.

 

It was entirely possible that he drove more recklessly than usual, unaware of how many stop lights he may have ignored, but he didn’t care enough to notice.  

 

Just as he didn’t really notice when he parked in the parking garage and rode the elevator up to Kim Dokja’s apartment.

 

And it was only when he input the code and opened the door that he was snapped out of his half-dazed state, the sweet smell of Omega heat slapping him in the face.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped in quickly, [41] closing the door behind them, suddenly aware that they were the first to reach this apartment.    

 

He could already feel his bearings tilting, his posture and muscles relaxing, his mind slipping into that of a hunter as he stalked down the hall that would lead to his Omega.

 

The sweet scent coated his tongue as he pressed forward, his focus only on the first door, then finally on the second door, his hand already lifting to open it.  Anticipation was a steady drum beating through his veins, accompanied by the near-frenzical state of a predator finally finding his prey.

 

He wasn’t disappointed, as his gaze immediately found his Omega, who was curled in the nest of materials and pillows.

 

However.

 

Before this, Yoo Joonghyuk was inexperienced, only hearing second-hand knowledge of what it meant to attend to an Omega during their heat.  Yet, now he knew that he could have never prepared himself enough for the potency of pheromones that engulfed him, forcing a low growl to reverberate through his chest.

 

【Alpha.】

 

And if he was ever asked if an Omega had something similar to an Alpha’s bark, he would say they most definitely did.  

 

It wasn’t an apparent thing like an Alpha’s bark — all aggression and dominance, like a wave rising and crashing, sweeping the unsuspecting off their feet.  

 

No, an Omega’s bark was much more subtle — a soft temptation, coaxing, curling around like a hidden snare, treading softly like mist seeping between the cracks.

 

Something that invaded the senses in small amounts, barely even noticed before it was too late.

 

【Alpha.】

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was beckoned in, like a siren calling a sailor, as his Omega uncurled, now standing in the nest of pillows and materials, reaching for Yoo Joonghyuk with both hands outstretched, only wearing a hoodie that partially covered the tops of his thighs, the milky-white skin of his legs exposed.

 

And as Yoo Joonghyuk took halting and graceless steps forward, he noticed how Kim Dokja’s hands were slightly shaky, his hair plastered with sweat, his skin flushed, and his breaths somewhat choppy.  

 

However none of it could drown out the smile stretching across Kim Dokja’s face, his dreamy eyes shining like twin stars in the low-lit darkness of the nest.

 

But it was only after the first few steps that Yoo Joonghyuk started to notice that he was tensing up, his instincts continuing to push him forward yet fighting the pressure of the immense status that Kim Dokja was emanating — straining against the invisible force that demanded that he drop to his knees and submit .

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk read Kim Dokja’s expression, he noted that his smile was more than just happiness, the edge of a pointed fang glinting at the corner of his mouth.

 

〈A challenge.〉

 

Yoo Joonghyuk could not — would not prostrate himself.  Not yet.  He clenched his jaw and fought his way forward, one step at a time.

 

Humor seemed to be reflected in Kim Dokja’s eyes at his struggle, like a god watching their follower labor through a gauntlet of fire.

 

【Yes, Alpha.  Show me your worth .】

 

If he thought that the pressure couldn’t get any worse, Yoo Joonghyuk would have been wrong many times over.  The air around condensed further, forcing him to slow even more.  He felt like he was hiking through quicksand, finding that he had to lock his knees at one point so that he would not break — even though he might bend, just a little.  

 

For a moment he thought to release his own status, using it as a shield, and weave his own pheromones through the air to seduce the Omega before him.

 

「But that wasn’t what this was about.」

 

〈This was a trial.〉

 

And as the most dominant Alpha in their pack, he would prove his mettle. 

 

〈Prove that he was a worthy Alpha — a worthy pack — for this Omega to bond .〉

 

So Yoo Joonghyuk fought for the next step, then the one after that, sweat breaking out across his skin and his fists clenched tightly, reminding himself — just like so many years ago when he was stuck in a pain-filled haze — that he needed to move .

 

《That maybe his purpose — his passion — his reason for being — is right in front of him.》

 

After what felt like miles instead of a few feet, he found himself standing in front of Kim Dokja, close enough to see the tension in his body.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was too worried about his Omega to notice the release from the pressure as Kim Dokja slowly reigned in his status.

 

And what finally brought Yoo Joonghyuk to his knees was the feel of Kim Dokja’s hands cupping his face, following him down, down, down, until he found himself looking up at his Omega, gaze searching his expression.

 

He could vaguely feel the movement of the cushions beneath his knees when [41] followed him in, taking his own place on his knees beside him.

 

Kim Dokja’s sharp smile had softened as he cradled [41]’s face in his palm.  

 

“A worthy alpha.  A worthy pack .” Growled from between clenched teeth, Yoo Joonghyuk finally realized that it was a sign of pain as Kim Dokja’s knees buckled.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] automatically reached out to catch him, cradling him between them, a short whine escaping from their Omega before he buried his face in Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck and inhaled deeply.  Both Alphas started pumping their pheromones into the air, mixing with their Omega’s so naturally that the effect on Kim Dokja was immediate, the tension finally leaving his body.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt the tip of a warm, wet tongue brush against his neck, trailing higher until he took a hold of Kim Dokja’s hair, stopping him from going further.  Kim Dokja huffed, breath brushing against the wetness, sending molten arousal down Yoo Joonghyuk’s spine, before firmly pulling Kim Dokja away so that he could watch his Omega’s expression when —

 

“Hah— ngh!”

 

[41] lapped at the precum dripping from Kim Dokja’s cock, humming in satisfaction, encouraging more to leak out.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at Kim Dokja, his expression growing slack, needy moans escaping him as he struggled against Yoo Joonghyuk’s hold.

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk only held him tighter, guided him closer, so that he could lick and nip at Kim Dokja’s mouth.  Kim Dokja’s tongue darted out to meet his, the taste of his Omega’s sweetness growing thicker, seeping in to ignite a fire in his veins.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk groaned loudly, diving in, trying to get closer, even if he was still clinging to the vestiges of sanity to prevent himself from falling into rut.  

 

「There had to be at least one sane Alpha here.」

 

From the corner of his eye, he could see [41] tip over, succumbing under the thrall of an Omega in heat — an irresistible temptation that they thought they would never experience.  

 

[41]’s eyes turned molten gold, glowing in the relative darkness as he methodically cleaned the slick dripping down Kim Dokja’s thigh, his tongue sliding higher and higher until he reached its source.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt the vibration as Kim Dokja shouted into their kiss, one of his hands threading through [41]’s hair, while the other shot up to grip Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirt, twisting the fabric so roughly that it caused the seam to tear. 

 

“A-alpha — please !”

 

Kim Dokja frantically gasped, and Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help but fulfill his Omega’s wishes.  

 

Especially when he begged so prettily .

 

He and [41] moved at the same time — Yoo Joonghyuk pulling Kim Dokja up so that his back was cradled against Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest, while [41] moved forward to grip Kim Dokja’s thighs, spreading them wide before he undid his pants and roughly shoved them down.

 

A pitiful whine escaped from Kim Dokja as he stared hungrily at [41]’s cock.

 

[41] kneeled lower to align with their Omega’s entrance, when Yoo Joonghyuk spoke — his voice sounding controlled even if he was feeling anything but that.

 

“Did you prepare him enough?”

 

[41] paused, his gaze flicking up to meet Yoo Joonghyuk’s.  It looked as if he struggled to regain some sanity before mumbling out, “Should be.  He’s so fuckin’ soft there and he must have been waiting for hours already.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed in approval as he turned to press his mouth against Kim Dokja’s ear.  “You’ve been good, haven’t you, Omega?  Waiting for your Alphas to stretch you out.”

 

Kim Dokja hissed out a stuttering “Yesss —“ as [41] pressed forward, sinking into Kim Dokja inch by inch, a gush of slick seeping out between the tight seal around [41]’s cock.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought that maybe the pressure was reaching the point of it growing uncomfortable for his Omega as he felt Kim Dokja try to burrow further into his chest, trying to escape [41]’s slow advance.  But Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t allow him to pull back any further, comforting his Omega by rumbling out praise, like “You’re taking [41] so well” and “So wet and needy, I’m sure you can take more.”

 

So when [41] finally bottomed out, Kim Dokja was panting, his hands digging into anything he could reach, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.  Yoo Joonghyuk noted that [41] didn’t look any better, his expression tense as he tried to give their Omega a moment to adjust.

 

But Yoo Joonghyuk just knew that wasn’t what their Omega needed right now.

 

“Alpha.”  

 

[41]’s attention snapped to him, a slight growl sputtering out at the sound and tone of his voice, before it was abruptly cut off by the sharp look Yoo Joonghyuk gave him.  

 

However the message was received, and [41] drew back until just the tip of him teased the rim of Kim Dokja’s hole.  

 

Then [41] abruptly snapped his hips forward.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought he had never seen anything as awe-inspiring — as satisfying — as Kim Dokja arching up as he came, his head thrown back and eyes wide open as he groaned long and loud, cum coating his stomach.

 

It didn’t stop [41] from continuing to pump into Kim Dokja, likely enjoying the extra tightness and release, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, since he too knew how it felt for Kim Dokja to cum around his cock.

 

And instead of trying to escape the overstimulation, Kim Dokja leaned into it, drowning in the throws of his heat.  

 

“Such a good omega slut.  Greedy for another aren’t you?”  Yoo Joonghyuk murmured.

 

It only made Kim Dokja beg more frantically.  “Yes.  More, more, more — knot me, please.  I want it—!”

 

[41]’s movements became rougher as he started to fuck into Kim Dokja harder.  And it was good that Yoo Joonghyuk still held his sense of reason, because [41] nearly dove forward — too deep in his rut, instincts driving him to claim his Omega — only to be stopped as Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed [41]’s hair to pull him back, exposing the column of [41]’s neck, the rhythm of his hips stuttering for a moment.  

 

Even though Kim Dokja hadn’t chosen to wear the collar, Yoo Joonghyuk thought that their Omega should be allowed the chance, allowed the choice to make the first claim — to take the first step into the bond.

 

And so he whispered in his Omega’s ear.  “Look at your Alpha, Dokja-yah.  Look at him giving you what you need.  He deserves a reward for being so good to you, right?”

 

“Yes, Alpha.  Yesss!”

 

“Bite him, Omega.  Claim him.  Make him yours.”

 

It didn’t take much more urging for Kim Dokja to surge up, his own fingers twisting between Yoo Joonghyuk’s in [41]’s hair, as he sank his teeth into the side of [41]’s neck, right below his ear.  

 

Snapping forward sharply, [41] snarled out his release, working his knot furiously inside Kim Dokja.  Almost reluctantly Kim Dokja loosened his bite and lapped at the bleeding wound, simultaneously tending to the claiming mark and injecting more of his venom into it.

 

《Sealing the bond between them.》

 

Small, soft contented noises left Kim Dokja as his heartbeat started to slow, as he started to burrow deeper, trying to get closer to [41].  And with Yoo Joonghyuk’s help, they were able to maneuver the Omega and Alpha — still locked together — so that they could lie on their sides, with Yoo Joonghyuk cocooning Kim Dokja from the back.

 

And it was a surprise, even to Yoo Joonghyuk, that all he felt was satisfaction at seeing his Omega well tended to, allowing him to push aside his arousal for the moment.

 

As Kim Dokja’s breathing turned more rhythmic, falling into a light doze between them, Yoo Joonghyuk met [41]’s gaze directly, absently noticing that the golden glow had dimmed as he questioned.

 

“You feel it?  The bond?”

 

[41] nodded, then clarified.  “But it feels almost like it only goes one way — from me to him, but not the other way around.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s thoughts turned inward, checking to see if he felt anything similar — or anything different about himself.  But he felt the same as before with nothing changed.

 

And it made him think.  “Maybe… the bond is a separate thing.  For each of us.”

 

But before [41] could respond, the door to the nest opened.

 

The other alphas were finally here.

Notes:

Thank you, Readers, for your continued support in reading this work!
(And no, the 'heat' is not over yet.)

Chapter 33: The Heat, Part 2 (*)

Notes:

Warning
Descriptions of sexual activities, self mutilation, and abuse.

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Kim Dokja awoke in an empty space, dyed in colors and shadow that reminded him of twilight.  It felt familiar, like he had been here before, drifting aimlessly without any sense of direction to speak of.

 

The only difference was that this time he wasn’t alone.  

 

There was a presence here, something intimately connected to him yet separate.  But he couldn’t see any physical signs of it, much like the invisible pressure gently squeezing him from all directions.  

 

And, with a strong sense of deja vu, he looked to his left, just able to discern a creeping blanket of white, rolling in like a weightless mist.  When he looked to his right, he could see the edge of a hungry void, swallowing up the space like an expanding oil spill.

 

Kim Dokja continued to watch the approaching mist and void, not feeling any sense of urgency or warning or alarm — this too was familiar.  

 

Except he wasn’t alone.  He felt an impression of wariness as the other presence tried to reach out to him.  Still, there was no one there that he could see, the ever present pressure growing denser around him.

 

He tried to project his own reassurance to the presence, but whatever it was must not have felt him the same way he could, as the waves of light and darkness closed the distance.  

 

When they both crashed into him, pushing him off balance, the presence’s wariness turned to alarm, and it made Kim Dokja want to reassure it even more.  

 

Because he was fine.  

 

《The waves were just carrying him home.》

 

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Kim Dokja awoke, a raging fire surging beneath the surface of his skin.  At least one of his Alphas had helped to divest him of the hoodie he had been wearing, otherwise he’d probably be burning much hotter.  Sticky sweat rolled down his temples and, when he rubbed his thighs together, they glided smoothly against each other, coated in his slick, his breaths already puffing out in short pants.

 

Blindly, he reached out, his hands landing on a solid chest, another chest pressing against his back, and it took him a moment to recall what had happened before his much needed rest.  

 

He remembered the bond snapping into place, like a bolt of lightning hitting sand, heating and crystallizing into a jagged thing inside his chest that felt slightly raw, like a carved out space that his [Story] was still adapting to inside of him. 

 

〈A space made for his Alpha, [41].〉

 

With his eyes still closed, he tried to focus on the half-bond, poking and prodding at it until there was an answering hum in response.  What confused him was that it wasn’t coming from in front of him, like he thought it would, but from behind.  

 

Plus, there seemed to be something… different about it.  

 

A more pressing issue — which he was trying his best to ignore, grasping onto this thread of clarity with everything he had — was that he was no longer filled with a knot.  

 

Kim Dokja whimpered as he cracked his eyes open, struggling to adjust to the low-lit darkness in front of him before he turned his head and looked back.  When he was finally able to see clearly, his gaze collided with Yoo Joonghyuk’s, making his brow furrow in confusion.  

 

“[41]?”  Kim Dokja rasped.  

 

A golden light flickered in Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze before it died down.  “After his knot released, he needed to… rest.  The bond seemed to exhaust him.”  Yoo Joonghyuk explained.

 

Kim Dokja’s attention was suddenly split between his worry for [41] and another of his Alphas maneuvering him to sit up.  When he turned his head back around, [1863] looked back at him, his eyes glowing molten gold as he pulled Kim Dokja to straddle his lap, coaxing softly, “Dokja-yah.  You need to drink something.”

 

A tight whine escaped Kim Dokja, [1863]’s cock sliding against his own, the friction smoothened by the precum already leaking from his slit.  Still, Kim Dokja fought to keep this little window of sanity, needing to know that [41] was fine.

 

“Is [41] okay?”  Then, because he was curious about the particulars.  “Are you bonded, too, Joonghyuk-ah?”

 

A hand cupped his face, tracing his bottom lip and guiding his head to turn to the side.  [1864] held a bottle of water to his mouth, enticing him to drink.

 

“Not bonded — just [41].”  Yoo Joonghyuk answered, a rough timbre in his voice, seeming almost like… 

 

「Was Yoo Joonghyuk… pouting ?」

 

Then, Kim Dokja felt a soft, almost muted reassurance light up the bond briefly before dimming — [41] letting him know that he was fine.

 

Well, they did think that the bonding would have its quirks.

 

But Kim Dokja couldn’t figure out why the bond felt so… stifled — like it was weaved from the thinnest string, the pathway not quite wide enough to allow for the full potential of their connection to pass through.

 

However.

 

His moment of clarity was quickly submerged, his body reminding him that he was in the middle of a heat, and he better fucking pay attention.

 

The clench in his abdomen was a pain he was all too familiar with.  He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the Alpha beneath him.

 

[1863] rolled his hips, grinding their cocks together, pulling a needy moan from Kim Dokja.

 

Through the haze, he noticed a glint of amusement in [1863]’s gaze, the corner of his mouth tilting up, as he practically purred out, “Do I have your attention now, sweet Omega?”

 

And the Omega in him responds .  

 

Just not as submissively as an Alpha would expect an Omega in heat should be.

 

Because this was his heat — his nest — and maybe Kim Dokja was just… built a little differently .  He had been through this many times without an Alpha’s help, after all, and who could blame him, really.  Throughout all of his heats, he endured alone, unable to be soft, unable to be cared for properly.

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t be obedient to just anyone.  

 

A brief flare of his status and a slight nudge was enough for him to get his Alpha to lie back into the soft cushions.  His mouth curled slowly into a satisfied smirk as [1863]’s eyes flared wide in surprise before returning to amusement with a hint of a challenge igniting in those depths.

 

There was a rumble beneath the palm braced against [1863]’s chest when he lifted his hips to guide [1863]’s cock to his fluttering, dripping hole.  And as he sank down, breathing through the now familiar, welcome pressure, the sensitivity brought on by his heat eased his way, greedily swallowing down [1863]’s entire length, rhythmically clenching around the hardness and pulling sharp growls from [1863], until he finally reached the base.  

 

Kim Dokja had to take a moment to breathe through the fullness, before lifting his hips only to drop back down.  

 

At first, he rode [1863] slowly, getting used to the clench and release, relishing in the fact that he could feel the hard shape of [1863]’s cock inside him.  [1863]’s grip on his hips sent an electric shiver down his spine, his toes curling as tingles traveled through the soles of his feet. 

 

His heat was pulling him under again, working him up into a frenzy as his moans grew more frequent, more desperate, and he gushed so much slick over his Alpha’s cock in anticipation of his knot.

 

Of course, [1863] helped him get to this point, unerringly guiding Kim Dokja’s hips, tilting them in a certain way so that every time Kim Dokja took more of his cock, it would hit Kim Dokja’s sweet spot, over and over and over.  

 

“Ngh— yes!  Right there, so good .”  His voice sounded choked, mindless ramblings lost in the hazy bliss.  He was so lost in the urge to milk his Alpha’s knot that he didn’t notice how his fingers clawed at [1863]’s chest and shoulders, scrambling for leverage as the climb started to overwhelm his senses.  

 

[1863]’s expression was caught somewhere between pain and rapture, a hungry, predatory glow igniting in [1863]’s gaze, silent in his unwavering focus and concentration on Kim Dokja taking his pleasure so greedily from him.  There was a hint of something else in [1863]’s gaze that Kim Dokja couldn’t quite place, his thoughts too muddled.  Yet it still caused a warm feeling to bloom in his chest and he involuntarily clenched down harder pulling a low grown from [1863].  

 

He was getting close.  His Alpha was, too, as he started to feel the tug of [1863]’s slowly growing knot, the tug at his sensitive rim when it popped out, followed by the indescribable pleasure as it was forced back in, making Kim Dokja whine.

 

“Alpha, knot me.  Please, please, please—”  And as he begged, he only worked his hips faster.

 

His only warning was a tightening of [1863]’s grip on his hips before [1863] started using him instead, bouncing Kim Dokja on his cock as praise spilled from his lips.

 

“You’ve been so good, sweet Omega.  Let me help you.”

 

And he did, forcing Kim Dokja down, filling him with his knot in one swift motion.  Electric ecstasy snapped down Kim Dokja’s spine, a breathless groan escaping him, his cum splashing across [1863]’s chest.  [1863] snarled, and warmth pooled inside of him as [1863]’s seed filled him. 

 

The comfortable swell of a knot expanding him and the warm heat of his Alpha’s cum sitting in his belly calmed the mindless frenzy, allowing Kim Dokja a moment of clarity even though he was exhausted from the rush.  He hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling of [1863] rubbing circles into his thighs as they were locked together.

 

“Kim Dokja.”  

 

The Omega opened his eyes leisurely, coming to full attention as he gazed at the expanse of [1863]’s bare neck, tilting back invitingly.  

 

“Bond me, Omega.”

 

Kim Dokja didn’t need to be coaxed.  He dove forward like a snake striking, the reminder of the knot pressing against all the good places inside him making him whimper, making it all the more satisfying when his teeth sank easily into the exposed skin.  

 

The metallic taste of his Alpha’s blood quickly changed as it combined with Kim Dokja’s venom, turning sweet with a hint of spice.

 

He and [1863] groaned together at the feel of the bond forming, like the flash of a knife carving into his chest, cauterizing the wound as it was pulled out and leaving behind a glowing warmth in his chest.

 

「Another sentence trying to find its place in his [Story].」

 

This time, Kim Dokja was more awake, more aware of how the warmth settled inside him.  The pattern of it was different yet similar, definitely a separate connection from the bond he felt with [41].  And as he removed his teeth from [1863]’s neck and started lapping at the blood, soothing the edges of the wound with his tongue, he was starting to realize that he’ll likely need to bite all of his Alphas that would want a bond with him.

 

He was sure there was a vampire joke in there somewhere.

 

But he was already starting to fade, the process of bonding seeming to exhaust him more than the bursts of heat-induced frenzy.  

 

He was well aware that, normally, during the beginning of his heat, the itching need came in waves of cramping, fucking, knotting, then rest.  

 

However as he neared the peak of his heat, he would be demanding much, much more from his Alphas.

 

He could only hope that they were prepared.

 

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The next time Kim Dokja awoke, [81] thought that he seemed to be less coherent, his eyes looking glassy as his head slightly bobbed, sniffing the air, testing out the scents that surrounded him.

 

Maybe even searching for a few in particular.  

 

Much like [41], the half-bond seemed to exhaust [1863], and he had to reunify with Yoo Joonghyuk.  [81] had stepped into the nest not long after, finding that Kim Dokja was still asleep, bringing with him enough food for them to feed themselves and their Omega.

 

[81] frowned imperceptibly as he thought that leaving [2] outside of the nest for the moment may have been the right idea, since Kim Dokja was becoming slightly more… aggressive than his usual self, his Omega instincts driving him to seek out his Alphas to satisfy his heat-fueled urges.

 

Kim Dokja approached [666], leaning in close and taking a deep breath of his scent, then reaching out and pulling at his shirt, his demand for it abundantly clear.  A low, happy noise came from the back of his throat when the shirt was in his hands, burying his face in it for a moment, before turning back to the layers of their other clothes and soft materials and weaving the newly acquired piece into the pattern.

 

[666]’s pants joined the growing collection not long after.  And, of course, he wasn’t the only one.  

 

[81] felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement as he watched their Omega make his rounds, stealing his Alphas’ clothes — stripping Yoo Joonghyuk and [1864] bare — and adding them into his growing hoard.

 

So when he finally reached [81], [81] was already starting to remove his own shirt, handing it to his Omega as an offering.  Kim Dokja grinned at him in return and it made [81]’s breath catch seeing his Omega so… unguarded in a way that he usually wasn’t.  

 

However, as Kim Dokja buried his face in the material, his expression changed when he pulled away from it.  He looked up at [81] with furrowed brows, before coming in closer.  The sweet scent of his Omega surrounded [81] in an instant as Kim Dokja buried his nose in the crook of [81]’s neck.  

 

It felt as if it were the most natural thing in the world for [81] to wrap his arms around Kim Dokja’s shoulders and waist, pulling him closer, yet allowing Kim Dokja enough space to look up at [81], confusion apparent in his gaze.  

 

“...[2]...?”  

 

[81] leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Kim Dokja’s temple before gently responding, “He had a few things to take care of.  He’ll join us later.”

 

Kim Dokja quietly searched his gaze for a moment, then nodded slowly, as if he understood.

 

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— Understood that [2] had needed some time, still deciding if he was prepared enough to step into the veritable powder keg of pheromones that likely permeated the nest.

 

[2] found himself frozen in place as the vestiges of old, terrible memories threatened to resurface — of being trapped in a dark room, the cloying pheromones of a different Omega in heat — an Omega who had made a deal with the devil to entrap an Alpha for themself — chained in a corner, whimpering and begging for a knot.

 

Whimpering and begging to be taken care of.

 

The feel of [2]’s teeth sinking into the meat of his own arm, pressing himself into the opposite corner, the visceral pain of gnawing at his own flesh the only thing keeping him grounded enough so that he wouldn’t fall prey to his own instincts.

 

[2] thought he had been lucky that that particular Omega’s heat was more normalized, only lasting four days, instead of the length of time that Kim Dokja’s heat would last.  

 

However, it still left him scarred, physically and mentally, and if Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t found him shortly after, he likely would have spiraled into becoming a force more dangerous than a feral Alpha or an unguided esper.  

 

And it was important that [2] was honest with himself.  Although he knew that Kim Dokja wasn’t just any Omega — different in many ways from what would be typical — yet [2] was unsure about how the pheromones would affect him. 

 

And, more pressingly, he was still deciding if he wanted to remove his collar.

 

[2] fingered the edge of the buckle, his gaze returning to the door that would lead to Kim Dokja’s nest.

Chapter 34: The Bond, Part 1 (*)

Notes:

Thank you, Readers, for your patience. I've been drowning in work, but I didn't want to miss another upload week.

Warning
Descriptions of sexual activities involving more than two people.

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The concept of time had escaped Kim Dokja, slipping out along with his awareness.  During bouts of clarity, an anxious itch surged within his chest, seemingly leaving room for an unexplainable agitation to seep in, making him unable to keep still for even a moment as he reached for the Alphas nearest to him.   

 

His restlessness wasn’t borne from dissatisfaction — his Alphas were taking very good care of him, keeping him fed and hydrated, and, most importantly, keeping him satisfied and knotted and filled with their seed .

 

The fire in his blood had taken over — taken him under — drowning him in his most primal Omega instincts.  It both dimmed and focused his mind in equal measure, stopping him from thinking of anything but the fingers pushing into his hole, his body clenching down on them as he relished the stretch that wasn’t quite enough.

 

A moan rolled out, long and low, as those fingers were replaced by something much thicker, as electricity danced along his damp skin and slick overflowed, trickling down the backs of his thighs.  His nerve endings were already raw and beyond sensitive — the combination of pheromones, his elevated body temperature, and the fact that his Alphas had been fucking him for hours, may be even days — but all he could think of was the feel of their cocks, diamond-hard, carving out a space and giving him something to clamp down on.    

 

Mindlessly, Kim Dokja lapped at [41]’s cock — the taste coating his tongue, sugar and spice and something that was particularly [41].  [81] rutted into him from behind, forcing him forward, forcing him to open up his throat so that he could take more of [41].  The rocking momentum of [81]’s thrusts spiked his arousal higher, driving his hunger deeper, so that when Kim Dokja felt [41]’s fingers slide through his hair — holding him in place so that 41 could simply use him — he was more than ready for his Alpha to use him as rough as he wanted.

 

Kim Dokja nearly choked as another of his Alphas — he was too far gone to tell who — slipped beneath his arching body, licking at his own neglected cock, overly-sensitive nerves stimulated by his Alpha’s hot, wet mouth. 

 

It didn’t take very long for his Alphas to wrench another orgasm from him, a long, drawn out thing teetering on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain as [81] continued to fuck him through it, the taste of [41]’s cum coating his tongue, the load so viscous that it was difficult to swallow fast enough, causing it to dribble out from the corner of his mouth.

 

There wasn’t much warning given before Kim Dokja was pulled up by [81], gaining a new angle — new leverage, a hand on Kim Dokja’s hip bracing him as [81]’s thrusts started to gain a more desperate edge.  A low snarl in his ear caused him to clench even tighter around the cock tunneling into him, causing his eyes to roll back when [81]’s knot started to grow larger, popping in and out of him at an increasingly rapid pace, helped along by the copious amount of slick gushing out and coating his Alpha’s cock, making the glide easier.

 

Through the haze of pleasure clouding his brain, Kim Dokja felt the restless itch, like static dancing over the skin of his neck, puffs of [81]’s breath brushing against the sensitive surface. 

 

So lost was he in his instincts, that all it took for Kim Dokja to bare his throat was a swipe of his Alpha’s tongue, the abrasive wet warmth setting his skin on aflame.  And when he felt [81]’s teeth sink into him, another climax rocked through him, his eyes wide open, staring blindly up at the shadowed ceiling of his nest.  He gripped tightly at his Alpha, [81]’s knot finally locking inside and applying a euphoric pressure to the most sensitive parts of him as he milked his Alpha’s cock.

 

But as the ecstacy started to fade, the restlessness remained.  And as his Alpha lapped at the bite, the anxiousness only worsened, a short, plaintive whine hissing out from between his clenched teeth.  

 

Made even more uncomfortable as the Omega in him started to take note that he couldn’t feel anything from [81].  

 

His Alpha had bitten him — claimed him — so where was he ?!  

 

Why couldn’t Kim Dokja feel a connection?!

 

A growl that vibrated the back of his throat, his dissatisfaction taking form, the only signal to his Alphas before Kim Dokja maneuvered [81] so that he could sink his own teeth into [81]’s neck, the discomfort of the position registering as merely a blip in his awareness when compared to the growing agitation.  

 

[81] snarled sharply, both of his hands gripping Kim Dokja’s hips hard enough that he would likely leave marks behind, but he settled quickly as the bond between Alpha and Omega lit up between them.

 

But something still wasn’t quite right.   

 

As Kim Dokja continued to lap at the edges of the wound, he noticed that [81]’s bond still felt similar to the bonds he already had with [41] and [1863] — like a stream holding back the stronger currents of an ocean — still only a half-bond .   

 

The unease skittering beneath his skin started to morph into distress.  There was a dissonance between his satisfaction with being knotted yet not being able to properly understand the issue with the bonds tying him to his Alphas — irritating his Omega instincts — as he frantically tried to [Read] the [Words] floating around in the pheromone haze, searching for the disconnect that abraded his senses.

 

His frustration must have shown in his expression since [41] cradled his face in his hands, his eyes searching Kim Dokja’s face, growling out a soft question.

 

“Omega.  Dokja-yah.  What’s wrong?”

 

Kim Dokja felt his Alpha’s genuine confusion and concern pushing at him softly through the bond — but it only agitated him more.  He couldn’t find his own [Words] to explain, the discontent tangling his tongue, the sense that the bonds between them — the connection — feeling so very, very thin.  

 

Instinct told him that his Alpha’s concern shouldn’t feel so muted, his Alpha’s confusion shouldn’t feel so murky.  

 

His unrest slowly — irrationally — grew because his Alphas felt so distant.

 

〈Because his alphas could not [Read] him .〉  

 

His vexation put him on a different edge — an edge that was the furthest away from the pleasure he had been drowning in only moments before.  

 

It made him bare his teeth at [41], his Omega instincts driving him into a metaphorical corner. 

 

The inability of his Alphas not being able to [Read] him — because that’s what the bond should be doing, his instincts whispered — unable to understand, the bond too weak to carry the words, sentences, paragraphs, that should be flowing freely between them.

 

〈Because Kim Dokja could feel [41], [1863], and [81], like new but foreign [Sentences] sliding into his [Story].〉  

 

And yet, the [Words] in those [Sentences] wouldn’t quite settle, the pieces still trying to find where they fit into place. 

 

— His Alphas were still unable to get the message that they needed to do something to fix this . 

 

It didn’t take long for his frustration to turn to irrational anger.

Chapter 35: The Bond, Part 2 (*)

Notes:

Warning
Descriptions of sexual activities involving more than two people.

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It had taken [2] a few more days before he was able to gather up enough nerve to face old memories — a few more days of building up the mental fortitude needed so as not to drown in that other time, that other place.  

 

[999] had walked into Kim Dokja’s apartment not that long ago, finally able to pull away from his responsibilities.  Still, when he had stepped into the apartment, Mia happened to call, and they talked about her progress with exercising her guide abilities — as well as listening to her interrogation about when they would come and visit her — even bringing that “weird Ahjussi” along with them.

 

It was then that [2] left the conversation, leaving it for [999] to handle the explanation, with [999] throwing a glare his way when [2] walked down the hallway leading to Kim Dokja’s room.

 

However, [2]’s escape wasn’t all cowardice.  In the past days, even as he delayed himself from entering the nest, the Alpha instincts inside of him kept pushing against the boundaries he had set — urging him to go to his Omega.  And, even though he had yet to step into the nest, the other Alphas had been rotating in and out, bringing in food and clean cloths with water — to care for their Omega, since during a heat, their Omega refused to leave the nest at all.  

 

Of course, when the Alphas exited the nest with heat pheromones and slick sticking to their skin, it slowly ate at the barrier [2] had built to try to dampen his Alpha instincts — slowly driving him toward the edge of insanity.

 

So, it didn’t take long before he found himself standing before the door to the nest and opening it.

 

Except, what he found wasn’t the type of situation he was expecting at all.  He had imagined that, at the very least, Kim Dokja would be curled up and content in his nest, knotted and resting until the next wave of heat took him.  

 

Instead, [2] hadn’t a clue about what he had just walked into, but he was glad that his reflexes were still sharp, since he deftly sidestepped, dodging something that had been flying at him the moment he walked through the door.

 

He quickly realized the thing hadn’t actually been aimed at him, of course.  Instead, it had been aimed at Yoo Joonghyuk, who stood with his back facing [2] in the middle of the nest, while Kim Dokja was pressed up against the opposite wall.  

 

A quick glance down had [2] furrowing his brow in bewilderment.

 

「Was that really…?」  

 

Kim Dokja had just launched a dildo at Yoo Joonghyuk’s head.

 

[2] had been so distracted by the event, that it took him a moment to notice that the combination of scents and pheromones clouding the air seemed to be a bit less… sweet than what he was expecting.

 

Less intoxicating than what he was bracing for — missing the hint of desperation that he remembered when he was trapped in another dark room with a different Omega.

 

Instead, the sweetness was laced with the sour notes of dissatisfaction, made more apparent as [2] finally registered how Kim Dokja’s mouth tilted into a snarl, his eyes sparking with frustration as they flicked between [2] and Yoo Joonghyuk warily.

 

Belatedly, [2] realized that the others must have reunified with Yoo Joonghyuk as the situation escalated into… whatever this was because of… something he didn’t yet understand.  

 

An unexpected prickling sensation started to run through him — the beginnings of a need to step towards Kim Dokja, his chosen Omega, warring with the want to escape — to run away from his own demons, half-buried memories trying to rise up and take him over, reminding him that this was another Omega forcing his hand, his decision, his choice.  

 

Which he knew wasn’t true — this Omega was his choice — but reason and logic usually had very little effect when digging into old wounds that had never been given the chance to fully heal.  

 

The phantom sensation of sinking his teeth into the meat of his own arm whispered through his mind.  It had him wrapping his hand around the ragged scar, squeezing it tightly as if the pressure would erase the ghost of it.

 

The movement had Kim Dokja focusing on him, his lips slowly tipping down into a frown as he studied [2], a hint of confusion in his gaze.

 

Until Kim Dokja collapsed, hissing through clenched teeth as a wave of pain coursed through his body, forcing him to his knees.

 

Both Alphas reacted on instinct, hurrying toward their Omega, catching him before he could hit the cushions, both Yoo Joonghyuk and [2] supporting Kim Dokja’s weight.

 

Even though Kim Dokja snarled at them both in displeasure.

 

“ Alpha.  Fix.  This . ”

 

[2] quickly glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, his understanding of the situation becoming even more murky as he noted how Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes had a golden cast, glowing in the dim lighting — a sign that he teetered on the edge of rut.

 

Still, Yoo Joonghyuk was the most dominant Alpha of their pack for a reason, seeming to be able to hold on to the last vestiges of sanity even in the most dire situations.

 

And even though [2] still didn’t quite understand what the issue was, he was more than aware of the fact that being so close to his Omega sparked a need inside of him — a need that triggered a knee-jerk reaction of releasing Kim Dokja and putting some distance between them.

 

Something [2] immediately regretted as Kim Dokja momentarily forgot his irritations, his expression falling as he beseechingly reached out to [2], while Yoo Joonghyuk brought him closer to bury his face in Kim Dokja’s shoulder.  

 

It took a moment to clear his head enough for [2] to try to make sense of what exactly his own issue was — because this was his Omega .  

 

「So why was he fighting so hard against this?」  

 

It could have been the pheromones that had turned syrupy sweet, the smell of his Omega’s slick drawing him in.  It could also have been because of old fears and uncertainties — questioning his own worthiness to have an Omega to protect, when for so long he wasn’t able to protect himself .    

 

But these were things that he had turned over and over in his mind long before he had stepped into this nest, long before Kim Dokja’s heat had even started.  

 

So, really, maybe it was this that held [2] back —

 

〈 — That he was afraid of following his own Alpha instincts.〉

 

That, for too long, he had been trapped in his own mind, taught that he had no control, punished for even showing a hint of defiance — or anything that would be considered ‘Alpha’.

 

〈 Conditioned to lock down and suppress anything that would bring his Alpha to the surface.〉

 

[2] blinked slowly as a war  waged in his mind, fighting to break the conditioning that had been forced upon him.

 

And he couldn’t be sure if it was his own determination to push back his inner demons or if it was the sight of Kim Dokja writhing on Yoo Joonghyk’s cock — the thought that his Omega should have been lost to the mindlessness of his heat, lost to the satisfaction of his Alpha providing for him — and not staring at [2] imploringly, still reaching out to [2], pitifully begging him to come back — 

 

Or maybe it was the combination of both things that made [2] grasp the buckle of the collar around his neck.  

 

At first, he had decided to leave the collar on, not yet ready to give over so much of himself so quickly.

 

〈Not yet ready to give another access to his most intimate inner workings.〉

 

However, as he watched Kim Dokja struggle against his own Omega instincts — for [2], no less — it made [2] recognize that…possibly… the reason that he had gifted Kim Dokja the collar wasn’t to seek forgiveness for his past transgressions.  

 

「Well, maybe that was half the reason.」

 

But, the other half, he was starting to suspect, had something to do with the realization that he couldn’t fight his fears, not on his own.  

 

In a sense, even if it wasn’t his original intention, he had asked Kim Dokja for help — asked Kim Dokja to be his partner — his companion — with the hope that Kim Dokja would fight his demons with him.

 

〈Because not everything had to be done alone .〉

 

It was that last thought that solidified his resolve, the feel of the buckle loosening and the collar slipping from his neck both a physical and mental release — his Alpha instincts rising like a tangible presence, making a cold sweat break out across the surface of his skin as irrational fear was triggered from smelling his own pheromones that were leaking into the air.

 

Still, he pressed on, more determined than ever, ready to fight for something that he wanted to be his .

 

Ready to fight any of his demons that would stand in his way — even if that meant fighting against himself.

 

And so, with more aggression than he had meant to express, he dove forward, Kim Dokja’s arms automatically coming around him when [2] captured Kim Dokja’s lips, the moan shared between them sending vibrations of electricity skittering down [2]’s spine.

 

[2] reached down, stroking his Omega’s cock briefly, milking out more precum, as well as, coaxing even more desperate gasps from Kim Dokja.  When [2] couldn’t resist his own impulses any longer, he worked his pants open to free his own pulsing cock.

 

Kim Dokja had a tight grip of [2]’s shoulders, and the feel of Kim Dokja’s fingers digging in was a pain that provided unexpected pleasure for [2], a primal knowledge that his Omega was mindlessly drowning in pleasure, even if it wasn’t [2] that was buried deeply inside his Omega making him squirm.  

 

[2]’s gaze lifted to find Yoo Joonghyuk staring at him, watching him with a sort of cautious understanding.  [2] grasped his and Kim Dokja’s cocks in one hand while he threaded his other hand through Kim Dokja’s hair, guiding him into the nape of [2]’s neck.  

 

Even though [2] wanted to close his eyes in pleasure at the feel of his Omega’s teeth sinking into his neck — the pleasant tingle of his Omega’s venom starting to course through his system — bracing against the shock of the connection, the bond carving out a place inside of him — he didn’t look away from Yoo Joonghyuk.

 

Because if he did, then [2] would have missed the tightening of Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression, the clenching of his jaw and furrowing of his brow — signs of his own internal fight against his battering Alpha instincts, causing Yoo Joonghyuk to slow his thrusts to a more sedate pace.

 

And [2] had a very good idea of what those instincts were telling Yoo Joonghyuk, since [2]’s own Alpha instincts were whispering the same thing to him.

 

〈Urging them to claim their Omega.〉

 

So as [2] held Kim Dokja close, he growled, “Claim him, Alpha.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head in denial, even if he seemed conflicted in doing so.

 

But the reasons for that denial — the uncertainty of what it would mean for all of the counterparts, of how it would affect the many facets of ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ — didn’t satisfy [2] in the least.  

 

Seeming more like a shaky argument covering up their collective fear of the unknown.  

 

Something that felt more like a fur-lined shackle holding them back.

 

〈Because there were some risks worth taking .〉

 

Well, if Yoo Joonghyuk was going to be a stubborn Alpha about it, then [2] wasn’t afraid of opposing their Pack Alpha on this one important thing.

 

It may have also been [2]’s own Alpha instincts pressing insistently — the fact that he couldn’t feel Kim Dokja, couldn’t feel his Omega through this inadequate half-bond an irritation driving him forward to sink his teeth into Kim Dokja’s shoulder while he stroked their cocks together, his Omega’s shocked and strangled groan ringing in [2]’s ear.

 

And yet, [2] still couldn’t feel Kim Dokja.

 

Flicking his eyes to the side as his teeth dug in a little deeper, [2] noticed the healing wound of another claiming bite on Kim Dokja’s neck.  Although [2] didn’t know which one of the other Alphas tried to bond their Omega, he had the vague impression that it was still only a half-bond.

 

The idea was only reinforced as a low rumble started to bubble up in Kim Dokja’s chest, the frustration in the sound readily apparent as his fingers dug a little deeper, a little harder into the meat of [2]’s shoulders.

 

[2] released Kim Dokja’s shoulder and lifted his head to stare directly at Yoo Joonghyuk — his irritations giving him courage to offer a silent challenge to the most dominant Alpha of their pack as he barked.

 

【Bond him, Alpha.】

 

And before Yoo Joonghyuk could react — whether in denial or reprimand — [2] rumbled out, his words edged with a desperate plea.

 

Because [2] wasn’t above begging for this one thing.

 

“Bond him for us .”

 

As if the softness of those words coaxed the beast out, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes burned brighter, something inside of him seeming to snap, his thrusts becoming more insistent.  

 

[2] held Kim Dokja steady — well, as steady as he could, as Yoo Joonghyuk started to slam into Kim Dokja a little harder, tried to reach a little deeper with every snap of his hips.  [2] continued to stroke his cock with his Omega’s, tightening his grip as the friction lessened with how slippery they already were.  [2] watched their Omega’s expression closely, pushing a steady flow of anticipation through the half-bond, keeping their Omega’s frustrated wrath at bay.  

 

Coaxing his Omega over the edge into the mindless bliss of his heat, the pressure slowly starting to build. 

 

“Five.”

 

[2] murmured, a spark of recognition flashing in Kim Dokja’s dazed eyes.

 

“Four.”

 

Kim Dokja’s breathing started to turn into gasping pants.

 

“Three.”

 

Yoo Joonhyuk pulled Kim Dokja back, fucking into him rougher, and [2] stroked that much faster.

 

“Two.”

 

Kim Dokja shouted, his eyes going wide as his mouth dropped open in pleasure, the squelching sounds of Yoo Joonghyuk’s growing knot started to pop in and out mixing with the copious amount of cum that [2] continued to milk from his overstimulated cock.

 

Maybe later, when [2] could get his Omega to himself, he would tease Kim Dokja about his loss of control.

 

But, for now, he just wanted to watch as his Omega was finally bonded .

 

“One.”

 

And [2] bore witness as Yoo Joonghyuk’s teeth sank deeply into their Omega’s neck.

Chapter 36: The Bond, Part 3

Notes:

Thank you, Readers, for your patience with the upload of this chapter. Especially during the holidays, work gets a bit crazy for me, so I thank you for your understanding. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season! Merry Xmas!

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Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes snapped open, the fogginess of a dream still clinging to his mind.

 

And, like with most times, when waking up from a dream — especially dreams that made the waking world feel like it was the actual dream — he continued to hear echoing voices.  But, no matter how his mind tried to reach for the memory — tried to decipher the words that were spoken — they melted away just as quickly, like fine sand slipping through his fingers, until he no longer knew why he was trying so hard to remember.

 

He blinked slowly, trying to regain coherency and figure out what it was that had woken him.

 

The answer came in the form of shuffling and the slight sinking of the cushions that made-up the floor of the nest.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk turned his head slightly, seeing [999] softly and carefully making his way over to them.

 

Absently, Yoo Joonghyuk ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, tasting the metallic tang of old blood, when his gaze landed on the back of the Omega curled in front of him.

 

More specifically, he stared at the still-healing bite — a beacon that sat high on the column of his Omega’s neck, in that blank space just below his ear and above the edge of his jaw — two perfect crescents, like twin red moons reflecting each other — and no one would blame him for the distinctly Alpha thought that flashed through him.

 

「Kim Dokja would never be able to cover that up.」

 

And no one could fault him for the instinctive purr that rumbled through his chest.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk slowly dislodged himself from where he was wrapped around Kim Dokja and sat up, his vision blurring for a moment, making him see double, before it resolved itself.  

 

Unable to help himself, he looked back down at Kim Dokja, whose brow furrowed momentarily before he burrowed deeper into [2]’s chest, his expression relaxing in sleep again.

 

When [999] reached him, Yoo Joonghyuk gratefully took the offered bottled water, cracking it open and nearly finishing the entire thing in one go, washing away the fuzziness from his mouth.

 

Then, his gaze met [999].  

 

“Do you feel it?”

 

[999] shook his head once, a negative response.

 

「Interesting.」

 

Yoo Joonghyuk cautiously turned his focus inward, his palm going to his chest reflexively when he felt the warmth of a second pulse beating next to his, slightly out of sync from his own heartbeat, something both foreign and yet it reminded him of what… home might be like.  

 

He stared at Kim Dokja.  And the more he stared, the more he thought. The more he thought, the more he realized that he and Kim Dokja might have been the same if not similar — just forged under different circumstances.

 

There was a reason why Yoo Joonghyuk was given the moniker ‘Secretive Plotter’.  It had been a holdover from one of the first missions he had led with his own ERS team, bestowed upon him because when he planned, he planned alone.  And when it was time to carry out the mission, he would generally outline the goal of the plan, then delegate his teammates to their respective positions, never giving them the full picture, sometimes just for the sake of utilizing their individual skills where it was best suited.    

 

He had always been like this.  He had learned long ago that the only certainty was himself, that he could only control his own actions, that he could only develop his own abilities, never depending on anyone else — not their thoughts, not their input.  He always just predicted the most probable outcome and took a chance, his [Gamer] abilities always shining brightly.  

 

And, to his credit, more than 99 percent of the time he would be right, and the scenario would go exactly as he expected, and there wouldn’t be anything more said about it.  

 

But there was always that one percent of doubt, of uncertainty, like an unknown blind spot just out of reach.  

 

He couldn’t help but note that maybe Kim Dokja was the culmination of that one percent for him — for their pack.

 

〈The only other person — the only Omega — that they could never predict.〉

 

Yoo Joonghyuk mentally poked that glow of warmth within him, and when he got no response from it, he poked it again.

 

Kim Dokja stirred next to him, his leg stretching out to gently kick Yoo Joonghyuk’s thigh with his foot.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked up, meeting [2]’s half-opened eyes, noting that Kim Dokja was still deeply asleep.  

 

But, just to be sure, Yoo Joonghyuk mentally poked that spot again.  

 

A deep, yet quiet growl rolled through Kim Dokja’s chest in irritation — an irritation that Yoo Joonghyuk felt , able to read through their bond — and there was a little more force behind the next kick.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt the corner of his mouth curl up.

 

Then, he remembered that it was still only a half-bond between them and his expression quickly changed into a frown.

 

Focusing on [999] again, Yoo Joonghyuk asked.  “What took you so long?”

 

[999] grimaced.  “It had been a… rowdier session than usual.  It took a bit more effort to sort out before I could leave.  Then, Mia called.  But that was a few days ago.”

 

An unspoken question was heard in the silence.

 

They had known that [999] had been obligated to finish up his training lessons for the year and couldn’t cancel the last session.  Still he should have made it as planned to spend time with their Omega during his heat.

 

But it had already been… was it eight or nine days?  Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know for sure after being cocooned in the quiet darkness of the nest for so long, but Kim Dokja seemed to have broken his heat fever in the past day or so.  

 

[999]’s gaze flicked toward Kim Dokja as he spoke.  “The… dokkaebi egg… seems to have started… hatching…”

 

He looked at Yoo Joonghyuk again.  “I thought it would have been better for someone to be there when the dokkaebi came out.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded in response then paused, his body stiffening.  “But, you’re here now.  What of the egg?”

 

[999]’s brow furrowed as his gaze turned distant.  “Over the past few days, the… cracks in the shell have been growing, but… it’s almost like it’s… waiting.”  

 

[999] pursed his lips.  “It’s more of a feeling than anything tangible.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk studied him quietly, his thoughts circling.  “Did you get any other… ‘feelings’?”

 

[999] narrowed his eyes.  “No.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk felt a familiar stillness between one moment and the next, his vision — his thoughts, his heartbeat — doubling for a split second, before [41] sat next to him.  

 

“No bond?  Really?” [41] asked as he looked at [999], his voice quiet but skeptical.

 

[999]’s jaw clenched.  “Nothing”.

 

“Huh.”  [41] glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “What about you?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk bared his teeth.  “Still only a half-bond.”

 

A hint of uncertainty flitted across [41]’s expression before he said.  “I didn’t mark Kim Dokja.  But I still feel the bond… completed.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened at the implication.

 

“So… if Kim Dokja were to claim [999]… would it be a complete bond?”  [41] asked softly.

 

[999] growled, “The [Bond] is not for experimentation.”

 

[41] winced guiltily and nodded, agreeing.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked back at their sleeping Omega, wondering what it meant that the bonding process affected all of them so differently.  

 

Almost as if he felt Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze, Kim Dokja’s eyes opened slowly.  He turned his head dazedly at first, seeing the three of them sitting there, a soft, content smile blooming on his face.

 

However, the calm was short lived, as Kim Dokja’s eyes widened in surprise right before he scrambled out of [2]’s arms and tried to stand on wobbly legs.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was there to catch Kim Dokja before he fell back down, trapping his Omega close and asking.  “What is it?”

 

“The egg.”  Was all Kim Dokja said, was all he needed to say, before [41] was there, too, helping Kim Dokja get a shirt on and [999] was helping to get pants on.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk could feel Kim Dokja’s urgency in his chest — something he had to start getting accustomed to, as it pounded through him strong enough that it sparked his own urgency — and he found himself almost fighting his own instinctual response to run out of the room… still completely naked.

 

Reigning in his own impulse, Yoo Joonghyuk compromised.  “Go with [999].  We’ll catch up.”

 

A grin flashed across Kim Dokja’s face, making Yoo Joonghyuk’s heart skip a beat, before he grabbed [999]’s hand and hurried out of the nest.

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk turned back around, [2] and [41] were digging out enough clothes for the three of them.  By the time they were dressed, Kim Dokja’s urgency had settled into a soft happiness, and they took the time to take a second look at the complete mess they made of their Omega’s nest in order to pull out the right clothes to wear.  

 

「Kim Dokja will likely give them hell later.」  

 

He sighed.  But that could wait till later.  Plus, they had to make sure to give their Omega, and themselves, some time for a proper bath, instead of the short wipe-downs they had been doing to keep relatively clean.

 

They left the nest, winding their way through the maze of book shelves until they reached the corner where the egg had been tucked away.  

 

Only to discover that it wasn’t an egg anymore.

 

Instead they found Kim Dokja tucked into the miniature nest, sitting on [999]’s lap, cradling a white ball of fluff the size of a tennis ball in the palm of one hand.  

 

[999]’s expression looked as if he were trying to contain himself, while their Omega looked content.

 

The shattered pieces of the egg shell, still glowing with the swirls of ethereal starlight, were neatly stacked on one of Kim Dokja’s thighs.  

 

Kim Dokja picked up a piece of the shell.  Even though he did it carefully, a hairline cut appeared on his fingertip, filling in quickly with bright red blood, yet he continued to feed the piece to the fluff ball, oblivious of his injury.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t aware that he had moved, only that he did, and he kneeled next to them, gently grasping Kim Dokja’s hand, turning it over to see that there were many paper-thin cuts lining the pads of his thumb and pointer finger.

 

It explained why [999] looked so thunderous, as Yoo Joonghyuk started to feel the same.  

 

It had only been a few minutes that they had let their Omega out of their sight, then this happened.  

 

And maybe there was an echo of that feeling spilling over into the bond — from [41] and [2] — because in the next moment,Yoo Joonghyuk could feel the soothing waves of reassurance flowing from Kim Dokja as he explained, “It is part of the imprinting process.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk gave Kim Dokja a sharp look before shifting to glare at the fluff ball — the baby dokkaebi resting on his palm.  It looked back at him with wide, black eyes that glittered like obsidian.  A single, golden horn protruded from the fur of where its forehead would be if its face were shaped more like a human.

 

“Is the…imprinting really necessary?” [41] questioned, his voice rough.

 

“Yes.”  Kim Dokja chewed on his lip, his gaze slightly uncertain as he looked between them.  “It’s how this dokkaebi will learn to… know me.  The blood helps.”  

 

“Why is that important?”  [999] ground out.

 

“Because it — she will likely be given the mantle of the Dokkaebi King, and I want to help her.  There might be horrible things going forward, things that I likely can’t even imagine, but I still want to walk this path with her, to teach her, to —“  

 

He seemed to choke on his words, swallowing roughly, an unknown helplessness coloring his features when he whispered a soft confession, “I want to take care of her.”

 

Then stronger, more sure.  “I want to care for her.  Show her that not everything is horrible.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention turned inward for a moment, focusing on the feelings that weren’t his own, but he still felt just as deeply, understanding what was left unspoken.

 

“There is something there… a connection… like something —“

 

“ Inevitable .”  Yoo Joonghyuk finished.  

 

Kim Dokja nodded slowly, then reached for another shell, but Yoo Joonghyuk picked up a piece first, the feel of the razor sharp edge cutting into his fingertips, a slight sting followed by blood coating the fine edge.  

 

Kim Dokja protested weakly.  “You don’t have to—”

 

[999] shifted beneath him as he leaned in.  “Together.  We do this together.”

 

And, as if their Omega needed the reminder, [2] added, “We’re bonded now.  We’re pack — all in.”  There was feral-ness reflected in his eyes.  “You’re our Omega .”

 

A thought flitted through Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind — that they would likely have to keep reminding their Omega that he was bonded now , to them, and he didn’t have to do everything on his own.  It momentarily filled him with smug satisfaction at the fact that they might have a chance of getting Kim Dokja to actually listen to them — before he went off and did what he did.

 

「The bonds would prove useful, indeed.」 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk mentally brushed the half-bond connecting them, and Kim Dokja looked at him in surprise.  

 

Yoo Joonghyuk held the shell up to where he thought the baby dokkaebi’s mouth should be and waited as its — her round eyes flicked quickly between Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk and the piece.  

 

Kim Dokja nudged Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand, bringing the offering closer, and that seemed to be all the encouragement that she needed.  Her mouth opened wide — teeth flashing briefly — and bit a chunk off.  The bite was so clean, slicing through the brittle shell so that it didn’t fracture the shell further, but left the impression of the flat edge of a row of teeth behind.

 

They sat there in peace for a few moments, the soft crunching becoming background noise as the pile of shell pieces shrank down to nothing.  

 

Near the end of the pile, the baby dokkaebi’s eyes had slowly started drooping, and it took a bit of encouragement from Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk to have her finish eating all of the pieces, before she finally rolled on her side in Kim Dokja’s palm and promptly fell asleep.

 

Sometime during the feeding, [2] had ended up leaning against Kim Dokja’s thigh and [41] had sat on the floor in front of them.  

 

“Why the shell?  Why not other books?”  [2] asked quietly, while they watched the baby dokkaebi dozing.

 

“There were a lot of [Story] pieces still in the shell.  It just felt… right…”  Kim Dokja explained, still sounding uncertain.

 

Which was understandable, Yoo Joonghyuk thought.  And, even though they had no knowledge about how to raise a dokkaebi, he could admit there was an innate… something that was more or less guiding them.

 

He couldn’t decide whether to be wary of it or not just yet.

 

“We’ll also need to take her to the Dark Fault as soon as we can.  There’s a… place there that she needs to…see.” Kim Dokja cryptically added.

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk decided that maybe they should be wary of whatever instincts they had regarding this dokkaebi.

 

“We thought you said — well, implied that it would be dangerous for you to return to the Dark Fault.”  [41] rumbled, sounding slightly disgruntled.

 

“Circumstances have changed.  And it’s very important that she sees that place before she’s introduced to the other dokkaebis.”  Kim Dokja explained.

 

“Where exactly is this ‘place’ that you’re talking about?”  [999] asked.

 

Kim Dokja shook his head.  “It’s not safe to speak of it here.  I can explain more freely when we get to the Dark Fault.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk growled softly.  

 

「Everything led back to the Dark Fault.」

 

“Fine.”

 

They lapsed back into uncomfortable silence.

 

Until Yoo Joonghyuk started to take note of a foreign feeling blooming in his chest — a mixture of guilt and apology coming from their Omega.  

 

They had just weathered their Omega’s heat on top of settling into the newness of the bonds between them, and Yoo Joonghyuk had hoped for just a little bit of peace before doing the next thing.  

 

He sighed, breathing out his frustration.  

 

“What will we name her?”  He asked, hoping the shift in topic would coax his Omega out of those negative emotions.

 

A thoughtful expression crossed Kim Dokja’s face, accompanied by a sense of relief, worry following not long after.

 

But then his expression softened with quiet determination and certainty.

 

“Biyoo.  Her name is Biyoo.”

Chapter 37: The Garden, Part 1

Notes:

HAPPY NEW YEAR, DEAR READERS!!

AN: For weeks, Dokja-nim has been telling me that this arc of chapters was improperly named and it didn’t make sense that it was called “The Demon”.

I asked him what he thought they should be called.

He reminded me that he was just the reader and it was the job of the author to name the stories.

The cheeky bastard.

So the chapters for this arc have been renamed. Sorry if there is confusion.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

There was a baby hanging over the edge of the top of the bookshelf.

 

It took a moment for Kim Dokja to process it, still trying to blink away the blurriness of sleep from his eyes.

 

And as the sight above him started to slowly register in his head, a quick shot of adrenaline fueled by panic burst through him when the baby, grinning and giggling happily, tipped forward.

 

Kim Dokja moved .

 

He wasn’t sure what had woken him from his doze, but the timing was surely convenient, as he lunged forward with a soft, fuzzy blanket stretched between his hands, catching the falling toddler just in time.

 

And as he swaddled the giggling bundle, holding her close, the panic he felt quickly changed to a different kind of anxiety as his thoughts whirled.  

 

Because the baby he was holding looked very much like a human .  The fur that should have been coating her was replaced by the soft, supple texture of skin, and the fluffy ball-like shape was transformed into a head, torso, arms, and legs.  Her hair was black and short, covering her head, and if it weren’t for the small golden horn protruding from her forehead, she could have been like any other human child.  

 

However she wasn’t human, not really.

 

No, she was a quickly developing dokkaebi who had already figured out how to shift to a more humanoid form that typically only older and more experienced dokkaebi could achieve and maintain.

 

Kim Dokja continued to study her, her dark eyes shining up at him with wonder and something like recognition, and he felt the warmth of affection accompanied with just a little bit of worry.  

 

It had been more than a week of hands-on learning of how to raise a dokkaebi, and Kim Dokja could admit that the learning curve was steep.

 

A few of the shelves in his library were slowly growing empty since the many books that he had collected throughout his life were being used to feed the steadily growing dokkaebi in their care.  It definitely wasn’t a hardship and was not something that he would regret, but he knew that at the rate she was developing, they couldn’t stay in this room forever.  

 

They would need to take her to the Dark Fault.  Today.  Tomorrow.  As soon as they could.  

 

Which meant that he would need to finally face what he had left behind.

 

And he would have to try to get there without passing through the typical regulations that the dokkaebi had control over.

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t forget how — or why — the dokkaebi regulated the zone that the Dark Fault was in.  

 

He wasn’t even sure if the dokkaebi remembered why they were given such a task. 

 

But they would learn very soon.  

 

〈A dokkaebi didn’t get the crown of a king without causing ripples through the fabric of their universe.〉

 

Kim Dokja just had to get Biyoo where she needed to be before any other dokkaebi became aware of her.  

 

A pang of sadness flashed through him at the thought that she wouldn’t get to enjoy her childhood as innocently as a human child might — well, for those children who were given the chance, at least. 

 

He had never seen himself as becoming a parent to any child, much less raising a dokkaebi .  

 

But, he could admit, if only to himself, that before he met Yoo Joonghyuk — before Yoo Joonghyuk pulled him into a different world — that he hadn’t really let himself dream of more than what he had once had.

 

Well, he was dreaming now, his Omega instincts tugging him forward, leading him somewhere unknown.  

 

《Kim Dokja had never feared the unknown.》

 

And if there was anything he could learn from his own childhood, it would be how not to raise anyone, especially a child. 

 

Kim Dokja had never been one for regrets.  There were only the decisions he made and the consequences he was willing to weather.

 

Every moment that he breathed, every moment that carried a potential for action, was too precious to waste on what-ifs and would-have-beens. 

 

And he couldn’t help but notice how his Omega instincts were screaming that no matter what form this baby took, he would care and nurture and provide for her.

 

〈He would not abandon her to wander this world alone.〉         

 

Biyoo jostled in his arms, her attention wandering over his shoulder while her small hands reached for something she saw behind him.  

 

And as he turned, finding [81] there walking toward them, a bit of his feelings must have slipped through their bond, since [81]’s arms wrapped around both of them, tucking them into his chest, and Kim Dokja inhaled deeply trying to regain some semblance of calm.

 

They stood that way for what felt like eternity.

 

“Baat!”

 

With a bit of reluctance, Kim Dokja pulled back, although [81] didn’t release them completely.

 

[81] blinked once, slowly, as he studied Biyoo, who had reached up to pat the side of his chin — the only thing her short arms could reach — with very human hands.

 

Something that [81] definitely couldn’t have missed.  

 

“She’s human.”

 

Well.  Obviously.

 

However unexpected, Kim Dokja was more or less “fine” with Biyoo’s sudden change in appearance, but he wasn’t sure how his Alphas would react to such a thing.

 

Kim Dokja answered nervously.  “Technically, she only looks human.”

 

[81] offered Biyoo his finger, which she grabbed enthusiastically — and instantly stuck in her mouth.  

 

“She certainly acts like a human child.”  [81] commented incredulously.

 

“Yes, well…”  Kim Dokja’s forehead wrinkled in thought.  

 

Really, there was nothing more he could say about it since he didn’t have experience with babies in general, whether they were human or dokkaebi.  The closest he had ever been to anything that could be called a “baby” were the cerberus pups, and he had Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung with him to help with that.

 

But as much as Kim Dokja tried to deny it, Biyoo definitely looked human, with the mannerisms of what he would imagine a human baby would have.  

 

The thought was only reinforced when Biyoo released [81]’s finger, covered in drool, with a few hairline cuts where she likely wasn’t as careful with her teeth — teeth that were still small, but just as sharp as when she was in her dokkaebi form.

 

Kim Dokja sighed.  They had to go to the Dark Fault.  

 

And he would need to make a deal with a ‘demon’ to do it

Chapter 38: The Garden, Part 2

Notes:

For weeks, Dokja-nim has been telling me that this arc of chapters was improperly named and it didn’t make sense that it was called “The Demon”.

I asked him what he thought they should be called.

He reminded me that he was just the reader and it was the job of the author to name the stories.

The cheeky bastard.

So the chapters for this arc have been renamed. Sorry if there is confusion.

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Still, Kim Dokja had delayed the inevitable for a few more days, justifying that it was just a fluke — that Biyoo’s accelerated learning was due to the fact that she had been consuming a lot of [Stories] that were based on their human species.  Combined with her very human parents, it was only natural that she would develop the ability to shift into a human herself.

 

Dokkaebi in general tended to adapt to their surroundings very quickly.  His reasoning was completely logical.  He just very adamantly ignored the question of how she had gotten to the top of the very tall bookshelf in the first place.

 

But, like with most blaring questions, it tried its best to not be ignorable.

 

In the following days of her first stunt, it started to happen more frequently.

 

Not only would she shift repeatedly between her human and dokkaebi form, but she also became a bit more creative when she decided to dive bomb from various high places.

 

Like when [81] had been cooking dinner one night.  He had just placed Biyoo in her high chair and turned around to tend to the pot on the stove.  Thanks to his quick reflexes, [81] had caught Biyoo before she could land in the pot.

 

Another time was when [1864] and [666] had returned to the apartment after spending the day training for upcoming matches.  Kim Dokja had just put Biyoo down for a nap in his nest and turned around only for a second.  But just as [666] had walked through the front door, she had jumped down from the nearby shelving, and [666] had to dive forward to catch her.

 

Finally, one morning, Kim Dokja could no longer ignore it.  

 

It was early — too early — and Kim Dokja had wanted to sleep a bit longer, but he really had the urge to pee, so he scooted out from between Yoo Joonghyuk and [1863] and left the nest after checking that Biyoo was fast asleep in her makeshift mound of blankets and cushions.  But when he was finished doing his business, a very distinct “Baat!” was heard coming from the top of the shower curtain rail, which had him snapping fully awake and grabbing a towel to catch the falling baby.

 

It was as he cradled her in his arms — giggling as usual, since she loved it when her fathers caught her every time — that he finally admitted that they would need to go.  Because not only had she been teleporting in frequent bursts over the period of the last week or so, but she had already instinctively been learning how to hover.  

 

Kim Dokja was also starting to worry about her condition since she had been sleeping more and more often, leaving less and less time for her to consume enough [Stories] to keep up with her nutrition needs.

 

In a last-ditch effort, Kim Dokja had contacted Bihyung, but what he was told only reinforced what he already knew needed to be done.  

 

Bihyung explained that her accelerated development rate likely meant that Biyoo is going to need a lot more probability in her growth than a typical dokkaebi would.  And the only place that would have such dense concentrations of probability was in the Dark Fault.

 

The line had gone quiet for a moment before Bihyung quietly cautioned, “Be careful, Dokja-yah.  Not every [Story] is happy.” 

 

〈But Kim Dokja already knew that.〉

 

So, later that evening, he had explained to his Alphas what needed to be done.

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Kim Dokja hadn’t expected such vehement opposition from [41] regarding his proposed solution to how they would get to the Dark Fault without having to go through the dokkaebis.  He hadn’t expected it to even be an issue.

 

「Going to Eden wasn’t that bad, was it?」

 

Kim Dokja knew that his Alphas had a history with Urielle during her time as an agent at ERS, but he couldn’t have imagined that their interactions would have inspired such an objection from his Alpha.

 

Kim Dokja looked at Yoo Joonghyuk.  An unexpected warm, gooey, fuzzy feeling melted through his veins — all of his Omega instincts waking up — at the sight of his Alpha holding a sleeping Biyoo, who had decided to keep her human appearance.  She rested against Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder and there was a bit of drool that formed a dark spot on his shirt sleeve that he didn’t pay any attention to.

 

Fortunately his Alphas had taken the change in stride, barely commenting on the difference.  But seeing his Alpha holding her like she was theirs — a part of their pack — just… did things for him.

 

Kim Dokja shook himself out of it and asked, “Why not?  It seems perfectly reasonable to take the portal in Eden.”

 

It was [999] who sighed.  “Of course you would think it’s reasonable to use a malfunctioning portal.”

 

[41] restlessly paced back and forth along the length of his living room.  “Not to mention Michael will be there, that demon-hunting psychopath…”

 

「Ah.」

 

Was it Michael that made them so anxious?  

 

Kim Dokja wondered why.  He didn’t think Michael was that horrible — minus the gruesome demon trophies he wore belted around his waist as he haunted the streets of Eden.  

 

Michael’s unstable nature was mostly due to the mixture of ‘angelic’ and ‘demonic’ energies that coursed through him.  It was difficult to blame someone for their own creation when they had no say in the way they were created in the first place.

 

And there was definitely a [Story] there — the battle between good and evil — a constant, recurring theme in many, many aspects of their universe.  

 

But there was a more ancient [Story] that sat above them all — a story of keeping the balance between the light and the dark.

 

A [Story] that likely whispered in Michael’s ear without allowing him even a moment of reprieve.

 

And, of course, Kim Dokja was very familiar with the influence of a [Story].

 

Still, the portal in Eden was the only other way they could enter the Dark Fault without alerting the Bureau of Biyoo’s existence.

 

And he absolutely would not risk involving Shin Yoosung.

 

However.

 

It was well known that the portal that was located in Eden was partially inoperable.  The scholars of Eden theorized that because it was proximally close to the Dark Dimension rift that it affected the functionality of the portal — so much so that Eden had decided to abandon it, shutting it down for long enough that the denizens of Eden had forgotten there even was such a portal that existed.

 

「Well, maybe not all of Eden had forgotten about it.」

 

It was very likely that Metatron, the Scribe of Eden, remembered the existence of that particular portal.  He had been Eden’s scribe for centuries already, possibly nearly as old as Kim Dokja’s own parents.

 

All the more reason for Kim Dokja to be slightly wary of Metatron, who had been rumored to be quite the canny old bastard.

 

There had to have been a reason why Metatron had let the existence of this portal slip from the collective memory of Eden and the general population.  It was very likely that he had made some sort of deal with the Bureau and dokkaebis to keep the information under wraps.

 

And keeping such a secret seemed to have worked for centuries thus far.

 

Until that one time when Kim Dokja had come tumbling through.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Urielle distinctly remembered the first time she had seen Kim Dokja.

 

He had been lying in a hospital bed, seeming somewhat despondent — except when the Constellations of Underworld came to visit him.  Then he would become more animated, more prone to excitement, even though there were times where his mind seemed to wander elsewhere in the middle of a conversation.

 

Not that Urielle had been eavesdropping.  Well, not on purpose anyway.

 

Nor had she purposefully been sneaking glances at him.

 

At the time, she hadn’t known what it was, but she just couldn’t seem to stop herself from… watching him.  Observing him.  Learning his day-to-day mannerisms.

 

She knew that it could be misconstrued as creepy at best and stalkerish at worst, but it was like…

 

Like when it was difficult to stop watching a disaster when it was happening, even when it was easy to see that it could only end in tragedy and devastation.

 

She just couldn’t help it.

 

But then Kim Dokja had been transferred out of the room that Yoo Joonghyuk and the others had been assigned to and she hadn’t seen him there again.

 

Even then, Kim Dokja had seemed to shine like a darkstar, even if his inner light seemed slightly dim.

 

The second time she had seen Kim Dokja was at the very center of Eden.  She was able to finally meet him, to speak with him, his light seeming to shine brighter than what she remembered.  

 

It didn’t matter that Kim Dokja wasn’t supposed to be there.  

 

Gosh, she got so embarrassed just thinking about it.

 

But it didn’t stop her questioning how he had gotten there in the first place.

 

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The territory of Eden was constructed with defense in mind, however divided it became in its later years of development.  

 

From what Urielle had been taught about their history, humans had originated in the Garden, which was located at the heart of Eden.  Whether it meant all humans or just the history of the people of Eden, hadn’t been clear in their records.

 

But, as was typical for humans, their population size demanded larger areas of land, so, naturally, they pushed beyond the borders of the Garden to found the City of Adam.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

〈Although, when she had been younger and attending mandated Historical Studies courses, Urielle remembered arguing with Jophiel on the matter, who had said it was temptation rather than population growth that had caused humans to leave the Garden.  

 

Urielle had said that she thought Jophiel’s opinion might be biased, since, at that time Jophiel had been obsessively studying the art in humanities, which caused a whole new argument to start.  

 

So much so that Urielle had finally suggested that they consult Metatron, and if Urielle was proven correct, then Jophiel would owe her a sword.

 

Not just any sword, Urielle specified, but it would have to be Jophiel’s [Flaming Sword].

 

Well, it was pretty clear who won that argument.〉

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

A second wave of population migration sparked another push outward from the City of Adam, which was eventually founded to be the City of Eve.  

 

However, what once was a united people began to fray at the edges of the City of Eve.  

 

The scholars of Eden argued that the changes might have been due to the innovation of technologies, or the evolution of culture, or even increased distance from the Garden itself — a place that was long believed to be the cradle, the epicenter, from which their humanity originated.  

 

Still, regardless of the cause, it was the ‘beginning of the corruption of their once divine nation’.

 

Those that were corrupted were named ‘demon’.

 

Those that remained uncorrupted were named ‘angel’.

 

Eden inevitably became divided and thus began the great war of saints and demons.  

 

The battles fought between the two factions were for many reasons.  

 

Reasons as petty as those who allow themselves to be corrupted are ‘evil’ and therefore must be eradicated.

 

Or reasons as righteous as humanity should be allowed to exist as they are, corrupted or uncorrupted, angel or demon, ‘good’ or ‘evil’.

 

Needless to say, it didn’t take much convincing to build a wall between the City of Adam and the City of Eve.  

 

But Urielle had always taken exception to the name that the builders had given it once the wall was finished.

 

The 〔Wall that Divides Good and Evil〕.

 

Although this history had happened long before she had begun her existence in this world, in her lifespan of nearly ten centuries, she had known many demons residing in the City of Eve who were ‘good’, and she had known many angels residing in the City of Adam who were ‘evil’.

 

Then there was Michael, who was born from both an angel and a demon.  He was orphaned like the rest of them, and was raised in the Garden, alongside Urielle, Jophiel, and the others, under Metatron’s care and watchful gaze — a wild and unruly pack of Metatron’s misfit sheep, the Archangels of Eden.

 

Still it always had her questioning.

 

「What exactly is ‘good’ and what is ‘evil’?」

 

《Because one can never be seen without looking at the other.》

 

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Kim Dokja shouldn’t have been in the Garden that day.  But he was.  He was curled up and sleeping, with a dokkaebi on his chest, lying under the most sacred tree in the Garden.

 

The [Tree of Knowledge].

 

Typically, Urielle didn’t go to the Tree of Knowledge.  It was at least a full day’s journey to the center of the Garden, then a full day back out, but Michael had been having more frequent episodes of instability and they had needed to collect more [Fruit of Good and Evil] — (which she thought was such a ridiculous name) — from the tree.  

 

The [Fruit of Good and Evil] was the only thing that seemed to help stabilize him.

 

It had been rather lucky that it had only been Urielle and Michael who had discovered Kim Dokja and the dokkaebi.  

 

Discarded remnants of the Fruit had been scattered around them — evidence that the Fruit had been eaten by either or both of the beings.

 

And it was known that only Michael was able to devour the [Fruit of Good and Evil] without suffering other, more detrimental side effects, such as homicidal tendencies, suicidal tendencies, or suffering from a complete psychotic break from reality — all of which were related in someway to being weighed down by the burdens of guilt brought on by solely existing in the universe.

 

So really, no one could have blamed Urielle for completely panicking as she rushed over to Kim Dokja and started shaking him by his shoulders, causing the dokkaebi to roll off and squawk in outrage, which she ignored completely.

 

“Kim Dokja!  Dokja-ssi!  You must wake up!”

 

After a few moments of Kim Dokja’s head rocking back and forth — and Michael arguing with the dokkaebi — Kim Dokja had grasped her wrists and shouted, “I’m awake!  I’m awake!  Please stop!”

 

“Ah!  Do you feel okay?  Do you have any murderous thoughts?  Possibly suicidal?  Do you feel like you are being crushed beneath the burdens of societal expectations?”  Urielle shouted back, squishing Kim Dokja’s cheeks between her palms while she searched his eyes for signs of insanity.

 

Kim Dokja stared at her in shock, before he mumbled out.  “Aside from the usual, I don’t feel particularly bothered by those… very specific sentiments.”  

 

There was a pause of silence.  Urielle hung on his every word, too distracted to speak, so he continued hesitantly, “Is it… maybe… possible that… you are feeling those things?  If so, I know a really good therapist that could help with that…”

 

It took a moment for his words to register, before she laughed brightly and flung her arms around his shoulders.  Instinct had her reflexively nuzzling her cheek against him, scenting him unconsciously — the way pack mates would when they hadn’t seen each other in a very long time and just needed to be reassured.

 

Even Urielle didn’t understand why she had such an urge, but Kim Dokja had always had a certain… something …  

 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”  She said more sedately.  

 

“Dokja-yah, how did we end up here?”

 

Urielle had forgotten that there were others around, and she pulled back abruptly, looking everywhere except at Kim Dokja as she stood to straighten her black lace dress.  Embarrassment warmed her cheeks as she hoped that Kim Dokja didn’t think she was too… weird or something.  He didn’t seem to hate her for scenting him by mistake.

 

“ Exactly .  You shouldn’t be here in the first place.  How did you get here?”  Michael glared at the dokkaebi, but when his eyes flicked to Kim Dokja, even though his gaze still remained slightly angry it also seemed softened by… 

 

Was it curiosity?

 

Or was it something like… hope ?

 

Urielle thought that maybe she understood.  

 

For a long time, only Michael had been able to withstand eating the [Fruit of Good and Evil].

 

「But now there was Kim Dokja, too.」

 

“Ah… well… there was a portal… and then we came here…”  Kim Dokja’s brow furrowed as he looked around them.  “I remember being hungry, then this tree offered me… fruit…?  But after that, I was so very sleepy.”

 

It seemed as if he remembered something, possibly something shocking yet important, and his expression became tense.  Then, his gaze became distant as it switched between Bihyung, Michael and Urielle.  “If you don’t mind, where exactly are we?”

 

“Ah, yes!  This is the Garden.”

 

Kim Dokja’s gaze focused on her — 

 

〈And it felt like the world froze for a second.〉

 

“The Garden, as in… is this Eden?”

 

“Yes!”  Then, belatedly.  “I am Urielle.  This is Michael—“

 

“ Archangel Urielle and Archangel Michael.  Urielle, you must remember—“

 

“Yes, yes, you sound like Jophiel.  Anyway!  Dokja-ssi—“

 

“How do you know me?”  Kim Dokja’s eyes were wary.

 

Urielle sucked in a sharp breath.  She had forgotten because it felt like she had known Kim Dokja since the beginning of forever. 

 

〈Like she had been watching his story for a very long time.〉

 

But, in reality, this was the first time she had ever spoken directly with Kim Dokja.  She buried her face in her hands, and confessed, her voice muffled, “Well, you see, when you were younger, and Yoo Joonghyuk was younger, and you both were in the same hospital room, and—“

 

“Ah!  I kind of remember...  You helped to bring Yoo Joonghyuk and his counterparts in, right?”  Kim Dokja laughed nervously as he grabbed the back of his neck, as if he was the one who had reason to be embarrassed.  “I’m sorry, but my memory is a bit blurry from that time.”

 

“Ah, I understand.”  She smiled as he looked less bashful and she felt less mortified.  

 

“So, Dokja-ssi, did you say you came through a portal?”

 

“Right!”  Then Kim Dokja stood and walked to the thick trunk of the [Tree of Knowledge], but he seemed confused at first.

 

“I swear it was—“

 

When he placed his hand on the rough bark, it split open beneath his palm, widening and widening like a creaking mouth until it revealed a dark hollow just tall enough and wide enough for a person to fit inside.

 

Kim Dokja stepped back quickly, a flash of fear briefly twisting his expression before disappearing just as quickly, as he said, “Here it is.  Although I don’t know why it disappeared in the first place.”

 

Michael and Urielle stepped forward together, looking into the darkness.  Bravely, Michael stuck his hand in, then when nothing happened, he stepped in fully.  

 

Yet again, nothing happened.

 

Still, there was definitely a sense of something in the dark space, and they couldn’t discount the fact that Kim Dokja and the dokkaebi were here, when the only known way to get to this place is through the gates of the Garden.

 

“Well, it looks as if it isn’t working properly.”  Kim Dokja commented, although he traded a glance with the dokkaebi as he said it.

 

“Yes, that seems to be convenient .”  Michael was noticeably suspicious.

 

As if there had been some existential cue, a few Fruits started dropping from the Tree.

 

Kim Dokja reached down and picked one up.  “Were you looking for these?  They are somewhat odd, aren’t they?”

 

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They had escorted Kim Dokja and the dokkaebi — Bihyung — back towards the front gates.  

 

It was the happiest Urielle had been in a long time, and she could barely contain her excitement for being able to finally talk with Kim Dokja face-to-face.

 

It was also the first time she had seen Michael so stable when interacting with another person.  

 

Usually Michael could only be around people for short periods of time, since the dark and light energies that made up his being tended to become unbalanced depending on the person, which would usually set off his episodes of instability.  No amount of guiding had helped, and eating the Fruit seemed to be the only thing that allowed him to retain some control of his faculties and enable him to channel the excess [Chaos] into hunting.

 

Almost like it was seeking to balance what was imbalanced, hunting tended to calm Michael, moving him back towards a more stable state.

 

It was the main reason he was appointed the ‘justice dealer’ of the Archangels, even when they were children running around and terrorizing the denizens of the Garden.  It was why Urielle, in her infinite childhood wisdom, and with Gabriel’s support, had stated that it was a required bonding activity for their pack to go out on hunts together.

 

Which they still did even though they were older.  But out of all of the Archangels, Urielle usually accompanied Michael on their hunts for injustice the most.  

 

And no matter how much Michael denied it, she knew that he secretly enjoyed it.

 

Just like she secretly hoped that just as Kim Dokja would become her friend, that he could also become a friend to Michael, as well.

 

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Like he had been expecting them, Metatron had been waiting at the gates, his hands held behind his back.  As they approached, Metatron was definitely giving them ‘that look’ that made Urielle feel like they were recalcitrant children once again.

 

And just like when they were children, all Metatron had to do was wait in silence.

 

Still, it had been a long time since Urielle had been intimidated by ‘the look’ and the ensuing silence.  

 

Especially that one time Metatron had asked Urielle to “Bring 10 lambs” to the Garden.  But when Urielle had brought the lambs as requested, he had given her ‘the look’.  

 

In her defense, how was she to know Metatron had meant something else !

 

“Abeoji, this is Kim Dokja and Dokkaebi Bihyung.  We found them in the Garden.”  Urielle started.

 

Metatron held up a hand, briefly looking over the four of them, before focusing on Kim Dokja.  “Do your parents know that you are here, Kim Dokja?”

 

「Ah, so it was like this then?」  

 

Of course Metatron would know who Kim Dokja is.  He is the Scribe of Eden, after all.

 

“I… I don’t believe they do.  I apologize for the inconvenience.”  Kim Dokja confessed, bowing slightly.

 

Metatron just nodded.  Then he studied Michael.  “You were able to find enough Fruit?”

 

“Yes, Abeoji.”  

 

“Good, good.”

 

Then, Metatron had turned around, inviting Kim Dokja and Dokkaebi Bihyung into his office, while dismissing Urielle and Michael to return to their duties.  

 

Urielle’s heart dropped — she hadn’t realized that she would be leaving Kim Dokja’s side so abruptly.  

 

But then Kim Dokja had turned back and told her that he wished to speak with her again soon.  Michael had also been invited.

 

It was difficult for her to contain her glee.

Chapter 39: The Garden, Part 3

Notes:

Warning
Minor descriptions of gore and violence.

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Michael didn’t know whether to feel anxious or irritated about the fact that Kim Dokja was visiting the Garden again — anxious because it had been a while since he had last interacted directly with Kim Dokja, and irritated because —

 

〈Since when did Michael get anxious about anything?!〉

 

He huffed out a breath as he waited with Metatron and Urielle at the gate to the Garden.  Urielle was having a hard time standing still and kept pacing back and forth in front of them.

 

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait much longer when Kim Dokja was seen walking towards them.  

 

Michael felt his mouth twist into a sneer, his alpha-hackles rising, at the sight of Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] walking with him.

 

「What did those two have to do with Kim Dokja?」

 

However, as Kim Dokja drew closer, Michael’s expression slowly grew slack with shock when he noticed Kim Dokja holding a bundle to his chest.

 

A bundle that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a baby .

 

The shock only froze Urielle for a moment before she squealed in obvious excitement — making Michael wince — and skipped closer to Kim Dokja.  

 

Her hands clenched and unclenched as she studied the baby in wonderment.  

 

When Michael stepped closer to take a look at the child, he nearly missed a step as he heard Urielle whisper, ”Dokja-yah, is she a secret love-child that you’ve been hiding from your favorite noona?”

 

Michael had prepared to ask his own question — like about the mating marks that now graced Kim Dokja’s neck — but as the babe turned her wide, dark eyes towards him, it felt as if… 

 

There was absolutely no doubt that this was Kim Dokja’s child.

 

It felt the same as meeting Kim Dokja’s gaze directly — like looking into an abyss so deep and dark and never ending.  However the abyss wasn’t empty.  No, there was something there… something… unfathomable — something that Michael had never encountered before in his long life, but if he were asked to describe it, there were no words in the common language — or any other language that he knew of — that would be enough to encompass the entirety of it.

 

In a way, it was as if he were being swallowed whole yet swaddled tightly in comfort.  

 

Comfort… It was a feeling that Michael was not accustomed to no matter how many times he encountered Kim Dokja.  And now, this child…

 

Metatron cleared his throat, snapping Michael out of his spiraling thoughts.  He was dizzy for a moment, as if he were standing on a rocking ship.  Quickly, he took a [Fruit of Good and Evil] out of his coat pocket and took a bite.

 

Still, the blush spreading across Kim Dokja’s face amused Michael greatly, grounding Michael more effectively than the Fruit, and the Omega’s stuttering response made the dirt beneath his feet feel solid and steady.

 

”U-Urielle!  W-well, in a way… y-yes, we are her parents…”

 

Kim Dokja looked at Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].  “She’s… special.”

 

”Of course, she’s special !  She’s yours , Dokja-yah!”  Urielle laughed before leaning in to brush a finger along the soft arch of the child’s nose.  “You are so perfectly perfect .  And I will be your favorite unnie!”

 

Kim Dokja huffed out a laugh.  “You may need to negotiate with Yoosung about that…”

 

Urielle gasped, then scolded.  “What?  You told Yoosung before you told me?”

 

”Ah… not… exactly…”

 

Kim Dokja gently shifted the baby’s wild hair aside, revealing a small, golden horn protruding from the center of her forehead.

 

Michael sucked in a sharp breath.  But it was Metatron who asked, “Now, Kim Dokja, what are you doing with a baby dokkaebi?”

 

Kim Dokja inhaled deeply, his gaze switching between their faces, before everything came tumbling out.

 

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Well, maybe not exactly everything .  Michael had known Kim Dokja for long enough that he could tell when Kim Dokja neglected to share a lot of details.

 

Details that were usually important.  

 

But Michael just sighed.  He had always felt that Kim Dokja walked through life leaving [Chaos] in his wake.

 

It was probably the reason why Michael could tolerate being around the Omega for so long.  

 

A stark contrast to how it was like being around Yoo Joonghyuk and [41].

 

「Especially [41].」

 

He still couldn’t believe that Kim Dokja was now mated to these two.  Probably some of the other counterparts, as well, since there were multiple marks that could be seen on Kim Dokja’s neck.

 

Even though Michael hadn’t ever thought about Kim Dokja in that way , over the years, the Omega had somehow become something like family to Michael — something like a pack member with him and the rest of the archangels — that it rankled his protective instincts. 

 

Michael took another bite of the Fruit as he kept a silent pace at the back of the group.  They had left the gates after Kim Dokja’s explanation, and they were already a little over halfway to their destination — the [Tree of Knowledge].

 

The Garden was just as it had always been — swathes of lush, dense forest that were cut though by various streams and rivers that led to a shoreline that was… somewhere.  The Garden tended to shift its layout depending on its mood.  Sometimes there might be a mountain, other times a deep lake.

 

It all depended on what the Garden wanted to show a person.

 

Like now, there just so happened to be a nearly-ancient willow tree in their path just as it was starting to get too dark for them to continue.

 

Michael couldn’t help but think that the Garden was being especially accommodating this time around as compared to the many trips he had made before.  He would have been more cautious if it wasn’t already leading them to where they needed to go.

 

”We should rest here for the night.”  Urielle announced and led them to the base of the willow tree.  They sat down in an area of flat ground between its large roots and as Kim Dokja started to lay out a bedroll — which he had pulled out of nowhere from the inside of his coat — the Omega yelped in surprise.

 

A moment later, a “Baat” echoed from up high, seeming to come from beyond the branches hanging above them.

 

Kim Dokja was already looking up in the general direction and sighed.  “Sorry.  Biyoo just likes high places.”

 

Urielle laughed.  “Don’t worry, Dokja-yah.  I’ll go see if I can find her.”

 

White, opalescent wings sprouted from Urielle’s back before she leapt once, catching the air, then flying higher into the canopy above them.

 

Silence filled the space between them.

 

Then.

 

The blade against Michael’s throat was cold and so sharp that if he moved even an inch it would surely make him bleed.

 

“[41], what are you doing?!”  Kim Dokja shouted, but before he could take a step towards them, Yoo Joonghyuk already had his arms banded around the Omega, stopping him completely.

 

Michael smirked as he met [41]’s glare.  “Still holding a grudge?”

 

[41] bared his teeth.  “The kill had been ours .  That was the agreement.”

 

Something sharp wriggled in Michael’s chest — it felt dangerously close to something like guilt .  Casually, he reached into his coat to pull out another Fruit, taking a healthy bite out of it with little concern for [41]’s threat.

 

“You were…too slow.”

 

“Too— you bastard .” [41] took a deep breath.  “Asmodeous was ours to judge.  We had only asked you and Urielle for help to find [2].”

 

Even though Michael kept his features blank, he couldn’t help internally grimacing at his past actions.    

 

That hunt had not been as…clean as he would have liked it to be.  

 

When they had finally found [2] in that… prison , with a strange Omega’s heat pheromones stinking up the air and the smell of [2]'s own distress and blood permeating the room…

 

Micheal’s control had slipped — the scales suddenly tipping a little too far in one direction — and it had just been one step too far when Asmodeus had barged into the room in outrage — because they had ‘trespassed in his territory’, the demon said.  

 

Before he was even aware of it, Michael had Asmodeous impaled on his claws, the demon’s heart beating warmly against the palm of his hand.  He barely even registered [41] shouting at him as he squeezed tightly, bursting the oh-so-delicate organ.  

 

But even then, Michael knew that wasn’t the proper way to kill a demon.

 

A sharp blade passed through Asmodeous’ neck — the shocked expression forever frozen on the demon’s face — severing his head from his body.

 

And through the blood spray misting in front of his face, Michael met Yoo Joonghyuk’s glare.

 

Michael remembered laughing at the Alpha while riding the high of freedom — freedom from his controlling urges, his inclinations, his instincts that were always driving him up the wall — as the scales tipped back to center once again.

 

〈It was the only time he experienced an ounce of peace in the ever present war between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.〉

Chapter 40: The Twin Trees, Part 1

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Kim Dokja was at a loss.  He didn’t know what to do to de-escalate the situation.  On one hand, the old fury and frustration that was directed at Michael beat heavily in his own chest, a direct reflection of [41]’s feelings through the bond.  

 

However, on the other hand, Kim Dokja had been [Reading] Michael’s [Story] for years, was familiar with many of the important and unimportant parts, and it was difficult to ignore the constant struggle of simply existing that Michael lived through from day to day.

 

In a sense, Michael was the physical embodiment of the war between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.

 

It was something that Kim Dokja could relate to.

 

So it was understandable that he would hesitate at this moment, unable to see how an old grudge can be dissolved peacefully when the only compromise would be to forget about it completely.

 

However.

 

”Ba-aat!”

 

Simultaneously, [41] withdrew his blade as Michael held out his arms, catching the falling Biyoo that appeared right above their heads.

 

In reaction, Kim Dokja had also tried to step forward but felt the band of Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm stopping him.

 

Urielle silently glided down, disturbed leaves and twigs preceding her descent, and she giggled at the baffled expression that Michael wore as he held Biyoo away from him, unable to figure out what to do next.

 

”You learn so fast, Biyoo!”

 

Following her praise, Urielle deftly stole Biyoo out of Michael’s hands and bounced her lightly.  “We must stay vigilant, before your [41]-Appa and Stupid-head-ahjussi start doing idiot things.”

 

”Baat!”

 

Kim Dokja huffed out a relieved laugh.  He hoped that the rest of their journey could be resolved as easily.

 

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And it was easy.  The conflicting Alphas tacitly put aside their grievances in order to preserve the peace for the remainder of their journey.  Still, it was more likely the warning glances that Urielle occasionally threw at them, silently telling them not to fight in front of the baby.  Kim Dokja smiled helplessly, deciding it was best to stay out of it.  Both sides were his family now, and, although he felt slightly uncomfortable due to the ongoing tension between them, the conflict was not with him, after all.  It was unreasonable to play peacekeeper just for the sake of his own personal comfort.  

 

The further they traveled into the Garden, the more Kim Dokja saw.  For example, there was a mountain in the far distance that he had noticed the day before, appearing to rise up from the tops of the trees.  But, sometime during the night, the mountain had flattened, seeming to have returned to the forest.  

 

Much closer to their campsite, a lake had been carved out not that far beyond the willow tree.  Biyoo had excitedly rushed over to inspect the new shoreline, falling into the shallow water in her haste.  But before Kim Dokja could even begin to panic about Biyoo not knowing how to swim, the water had flowed out and around the giggling child, who then decided to chase the moving shoreline.

 

When they finally reached their destination, Jophiel and Gabriel were waiting for them.

 

Jophiel had always been warmly formal in their interactions, always treating Kim Dokja as a younger pack member.

 

However, Gabriel was the complete opposite.  

 

Kim Dokja hesitated for a moment, remembering that Gabriel and Urielle had a particularly… antagonistic relationship.  He thought it might be what Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung would be like when they were older.

 

“Tch.  Took you long enough, you bi—“

 

“Gabriel!  Little ears!”  Urielle interrupted as she glared at said archangel.

 

“What do you me—“

 

Gabriel stood with his mouth hanging open as they drew nearer, shocked into silence.

 

Biyoo was fast asleep, resting her head on Michael’s shoulder.  Michael’s expression was blank but his eyes were mocking when he met Gabriel’s gaze, as if daring the other archangel to make himself a target for Urielle’s wrath.

 

Plus, it wasn’t like Michael actually chose to carry the baby.  During the rest of the journey, Biyoo had kept popping in and out of reality in front of each of them as a way to keep herself entertained — which resulted in them all playing a strange form of ‘whack-a-mole’ except it was ‘catch-a-Biyoo’ instead — and it had tired her out so much that she finally had settled in Michael’s arms for the past hour or so.

 

“Dokja-ssi… is that… your child?”  Jophiel hesitantly asked as she studied Biyoo.  

 

Kim Dokja noticed there was something coloring Jophiel’s expression, making it seem softer than her usual stoic demeanor.

 

”No— That can’t— But when—“

 

Gabriel looked between Kim Dokja and Biyoo, trying to find the similarities between them, when his gaze stopped on Kim Dokja and he pointed an accusing finger.

 

”You!  You’re mated?!  Since when?!  And with whom?!”

 

But Jophiel seemed to already have figured it out since her eyes narrowed when she noticed Yoo Joonghyuk and [41] stepping nearer to Kim Dokja.  There was a hint of admonishment in her tone when she said.  “Really, Dokja-yah?  Them ?”

 

The censure in her voice made Kim Dokja feel slightly… unsettled.  The last time Kim Dokja felt this uncertain and nervous was when he had “the dinner” with his parents and siblings, and, out of habit, he gripped the back of his neck tightly.

 

However Yoo Joonghyuk covered his hand, lacing their fingers together at his nape, as he pulled Kim Dokja into his chest.  

 

And it was this that made him start to realize that his anxiety was likely transmitting strongly to his Alphas.  

 

Just like how there was reassurance flowing from [41], beating warmly behind Kim Dokja’s breast bone, and it was enough of a reminder that he was no longer alone in facing things like this.  

 

That they were mated — bonded — companions in life.

 

「And maybe even death.」

 

Just as he was about to muster up a response, there was a soft ‘thunk’ from behind him.

 

Confused, Kim Dokja turned around to find a Fruit had fallen to the ground.

 

And as if to prove a point, a few more Fruits fell in the same spot in quick succession.

 

He remembered how this had happened the last time he had been here.  However, at the time he hadn’t quite understood what it had meant — or why the Tree had given so much Fruit to him so…freely.  

 

It was only after he had carelessly eaten the Fruit that he realized what the [Fruit of Good and Evil] actually was.

 

And the reason why the [Tree of Knowledge] offered its Fruit to him so readily was because it recognized the [Fragment] of another [Story] that had embedded itself inside of him — that had become a part of him when he learned the [Truth] of their world.

 

Kim Dokja reached down to grab one, wiping it off before bringing it to his lips.  But then Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his wrist, stopping him before he could take a bite, searching Kim Dokja’s gaze before asking, ”Have you… eaten the Fruit before?”

 

He must have heard about the Fruit’s reputation, Kim Dokja thought.  

 

How it twisted even the strongest minds and easily broke the will of the most determined.  

 

〈All for a single taste of ‘knowledge’.〉

 

「But what was ‘knowledge’, really?」

 

Kim Dokja simply nodded and there wasn’t any further resistance from his Alpha as he took a bite —

 

Wonderment burst sharply on his tongue as the [Words] from the [Story Fragment] tried to slip in between the [Sentences] in his own [Story].  As easy as breathing, he applied a bit of [Story Control], and he was able to get a rough idea of the experiences and emotions that had been stored in this particular Fruit.

 

He took another bite, but instead of eating it himself, he grasped the small chunk and walked closer to Michael and Biyoo — who had awoken from the noise of the falling Fruit and was already staring wide-eyed at him in anticipation, a hand reaching out excitedly for the piece of Fruit that he offered her.

 

”Dokja…” Michael sounded a bit anxious, and Kim Dokja could understand why.

 

The reason it was difficult for others to consume the [Fruit of Good and Evil] was because each Fruit was actually a [Story Fragment] from a [Story] that happened somewhere else — a [Story] that was usually too incompatible with the being that consumed the Fruit, eventually leading their [Story] into [Chaos].

 

Kim Dokja only understood this because he was a [Reader] who could understand such things, while Michael…

 

Well, Michael has lived in [Chaos] for all of his life, hasn't he?

 

He told Michael with calm reassurance, ”It’s okay.  She’s been eating things like this for a while now.”   

 

Kim Dokja relinquished the piece to Biyoo with a soft warning to “Eat it slowly”, which she did, mumbling happily between bites.  He broke off another piece before handing the rest of the Fruit to Michael.

 

”Well, if that isn’t solid proof that she’s yours, then I don’t know what is.”  Gabriel grumbled as he stepped closer to study her.

 

However Urielle reached out and pinched the tip of Gabriel’s ear, pulling him away.  “No!  You’ll probably teach her something bad!  I still remember the time you misinterpreted that man’s vision — on purpose — and he ended up buying so many pigeons — they pooped everywhere , Gabriel!”

 

”Yah!  Let me go!  That was only the one time!  And it wasn’t on purpose !  How was I to know that he couldn’t tell the difference between a pigeon and a dove?!”

 

As they continued to bicker, Kim Dokja found his gaze drawn towards the Tree.  The hollow had remained and there was a slight tugging sensation at the edge of his senses that was growing more and more apparent — more and more persistent.

 

He hadn’t realized he was already moving towards the Tree until [41] stopped him.

 

Kim Dokja smiled apologetically at his Alpha.  “We should get going.”

 

However before they could get any closer, Gabriel called out.

 

”Dokja-yah, before you can use it, Metatron said that you owe him.”

 

Kim Dokja sighed.  

 

Yes.  He knew.

 

Metatron wouldn’t have allowed Kim Dokja this request out of the ‘goodness’ of his heart.  Of course Metatron would want something in return.

 

Gabriel tried to straighten out the collar of his shirt as he said, “It’s nothing too bad.  Metatron just wanted you to get him the answer to a question.”

 

Gabriel huffed.  “And knowing you, you probably already know the answer anyway.”

 

Still, it seemed that Gabriel was hesitant, even as the question spilled from his lips.

 

“What is the purpose of the war between ‘saints’ and ‘demons’?”

 

And although, on the surface, the question seemed simple, Kim Dokja could see the real question waiting just beneath — other [Words] that waited for direction, a palpable anticipation in finding the place that they ‘belonged’.

 

『What is the reason for the [Wall that Divides Good and Evil]?』

Chapter 41: The Twin Trees, Part 2

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Kim Dokja had an inkling that Metatron would ask such a question in exchange for use of the portal.  

 

It would have been a difficult question to answer if he didn’t already know the full breadth of the [Story] of the Wenny Man and Dokkaebi King.  

 

Because from all of the ‘adventures’ they had embarked on, the artifacts — the [Fragments] of [Stories] — that they had brought back with them didn’t docilely exist in their world without consequence.

 

〈For every artifact that was brought back, the worldview in their reality twisted ever so slightly, changing their world just that much more.〉     

 

And although it might be difficult to understand without knowing the context of that [Story], he had been preparing his answer for quite a while now.

 

Still…

 

「Was Metatron being purposefully cruel or was he truly this ignorant?」

 

Because out of all of his precious archangels, he had assigned Gabriel with the task to ask such a question.

 

He couldn’t help but feel sympathetic trepidation, wondering if he would be able to speak the answer while still maintaining his objectivity.  Because, even if they weren’t a conventional pack, Gabriel was his ‘packmate’, as close to him as Urielle, and Kim Dokja knew it would hurt more than just the both of them to hear the answer in its entirety.

 

〈To speak the [Words] back into their universe, when it was better left forgotten.〉

 

Since it had been Gabriel’s actions that had started it all — but it wasn’t his fault .  He had only been a child…

 

And yet it did confirm something for Kim Dokja — that the collective knowledge of Eden truly no longer remembered what had happened here, in this place.

 

He suspected it was because that part of the [Story] had been erased in order to save what was left of Eden, divided as it was.

 

Kim Dokja thought.

 

Saints and demons.  Good and evil.  Labels colored by human morality that were put in place to contextualize a conflict that was much older than humanity itself.

 

[Words] used to simplify greater themes by distilling such things to its core essence.

 

《A force that works towards destruction, seeking the end of all things.》

 

《And a force of creation, seeking the continuation of all things.》

 

Just as this tree in front of him was once known as the [Tree of Knowledge], but to continue living, it had to adapt and modify itself to become the [Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil].

 

However.  It didn’t become that way on its own.  

 

Because —

 

“Once upon a time, there were two [Trees] in the Garden…”

 

He started, like so many bedtime stories and fairytales that he had heard before.

 

A phantom breeze seemed to carry his words, greedily hoarding them, a palpable anticipation, a heavy presence. 

 

Kim Dokja softly rested his palm against the rough bark of the Tree, and a sadness so heavy and so deep flowed through him, cracking his voice slightly as he continued.

 

“One was the [Tree of Knowledge].”

 

“And the other was the [Tree of Life].”

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

They were twin trees that were born from the same seed but grew along different paths — each of them developing into their own [Story].

 

The [Tree of Knowledge] was the keeper of their history, the watcher of light and darkness, a beacon for those who wished to understand the world.

 

The [Tree of Life] was the keeper of the balance, the director of the opposing forces of their universe, the neutralizer of creation and destruction.

 

The Trees were connected symbiotically, bonded by the [Story Core] that they shared, and as they grew, their roots spread below and their branches extended above, tunneling into different places — different dimensions — creating networks and pathways that couldn’t be seen by the human eye.

 

Nonetheless, it caused ripples throughout their world.

 

When humans started to notice the physical changes to the landscapes radiating from the Trees, the abundance of life and prosperity drew them in, and it didn’t take long for the first residents of Eden to settle.

 

Just like the Trees, Eden began to grow, starting with the Garden, then the City of Adam, and finally the City of Eve.

 

And, at the start of it, the ‘corruption’ was merely a question, a curiosity as small as a footnote in the greater scheme of things.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

“But what exactly… was the ‘corruption’?”

 

Unsurprisingly, it was Urielle who was the one to ask.

 

Kim Dokja had known her long enough to notice that out of all of the archangels, Urielle was the most likely to question their purpose, always seeming to rebel against her own instincts when the answer wasn’t readily apparent, when the situation wasn’t just ‘black or white’ but a shade of gray instead.

 

Still he hesitated.  

 

It wasn’t fair to completely lay the blame at the feet of the Wenny Man and Dokkaebi King.  But it had been their actions that had influenced the world in the first place.  If they had just let things be…

 

And really, if the Wenny Man hadn’t been so zealous in finding a way to… force the creation of another dokkaebi…

 

“Each Tree grew its own Fruit.  The [Tree of Knowledge] grew what was known as the [Fruit of Knowledge] and the [Tree of Life] grew the [Fruit of the Spirit].”

 

Unfathomable regret beat acutely beneath Kim Dokja’s palm and he patted the trunk soothingly.

 

“At one time, the Fruits from either Tree could only be offered and never taken.  And it was only ever meant to consume one Fruit or the other, but never both and not at the same time.”

 

“Someone had eaten both Fruits.”  [41] concluded.

 

Kim Dokja nodded, his own heart feeling heavy.  

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

《Because when they were children, it had been Urielle who guarded the [Tree of Knowledge], and it had been Gabriel who guarded the [Tree of Life].》

 

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Kim Dokja clenched his jaw, the pressure making it easier to trap the [Words] behind his teeth.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

《The Wenny Man had met the guardians of the twin Trees and asked a single question — sparking a curiosity too tempting for the children to ignore.》

 

《〔”What would happen if someone were to take a bite from both Fruits?”〕》

 

《Both children knew how violent Michael’s ‘episodes’ could become — had witnessed it for themselves many times over.  It wasn’t a secret that Metatron grew more and more worried by the day, since the period it took for Michael to recover grew longer and longer.》

 

《And both children would do anything to save their pack-brother.》  

 

《As the guardians of the Trees, it was easy for each of them to obtain the Fruits.  However, Urielle was hesitant in doing the forbidden, while Gabriel grew more and more impatient.》

 

《So, at the edges of the City of Eve, where the influence of the Trees were at their weakest, Gabriel gave both Fruits to Michael.  And Michael accepted, driven by his innocent desperation to make the pain of his existence finally stop .》

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Kim Dokja didn’t need to say any of that, especially when in the end it did save Michael, even though the Wenny Man had been successful in getting what he wanted — the creation of a dokkaebi egg.

 

But it marked the beginning of the end for their [Story].

 

“There was already conflict and discord, especially since the population of Eden was so large.  It was natural for certain ideas to form and for other ideas to die…  But the ‘corruption’...”

 

Kim Dokja closed his eyes.  “A rule had been broken, and the balance needed to be restored.  And the ‘corruption’ was just the spark of an idea that started the [Seekers of the End]. ”

 

There was silence for a moment.

 

Then.

 

“Humanity has always had a rather destructive streak.”  Michael commented, his expression thoughtful as he unconsciously petted Biyoo’s head.

 

Kim Dokja hummed in agreement.  “So much so that it eventually reached the heart of the Garden.”

 

Gabriel scoffed.  “How is that even possible?”

 

Kim Dokja avoided looking at Gabriel directly, yet he thought.

 

「This world doesn’t need to be reminded.」  

 

This part of the [Story] doesn’t need to be remembered.

 

This Gabriel — who didn’t know that he was once the guardian of the [Tree of Life], who had been just trying to save someone from destruction, even if it meant going against his fellow archangels, his family, his pack — who doesn’t need to remember that he had once placed his faith in the [Words] from a ‘demon’ in order to try to protect something precious to him.

 

It had been a situation where good intentions resulted in destruction.

 

Still.  

 

Kim Dokja was more than familiar with the consequences of not telling the ‘true story’.  

 

However, in this case, he technically was telling the ‘true story’, just not telling the whole story…

 

「...」

 

〈Sometimes it was okay for things to be forgotten.〉

 

For this one thing, it was okay if only Kim Dokja and Biyoo were the [Storytellers] who knew the whole [Story].

 

He turned his head and already found Biyoo looking back at him, her arms reaching out.

 

And as he gently took her from Michael, an unspoken understanding passed between them — sympathy for Gabriel, who had been put into a difficult situation and resolved it the only way he could see how; the burden of carrying this weighty piece of the [Story] — however, they wouldn’t be alone, both he and his daughter would carry it together .

 

Kim Dokja shrugged as he settled Biyoo against him. “How do most things become corrupted?”

 

“That…”  Gabriel hesitated.

 

“Abuse.”  Michael said.  A hard glint reflected in his eyes.

 

“Injustice.”  Urielle added.

 

“Temptation.”  Jophiel directed her gaze to the Tree.

 

Kim Dokja simply nodded, his point proven.  “As you said, there are many ways the corruption would have spread —”

 

“Betrayal…”

 

The word was a mere whisper, a hushed sound passing from between Gabriel’s lips.

 

And although a chill monetarily froze Kim Dokja’s spine — because was that a bit of the [Story] trying to escape? — he remained calm.  

 

In his arms, Biyoo pursed her lips and puffed out a breath, like she was blowing out a candle, and the [Word] was snuffed out as if it never existed, breaking up into sparks before dissipating in the air.

 

Kim Dokja smiled softly at Gabriel.  “All subjective, in my opinion.”

 

Because there were different kinds of ‘betrayal’, right?  

 

And the consequences of Gabriel’s perceived ‘betrayal’ was nothing compared to the consequences of the Wenny Man betraying the Dokkaebi King.

 

“No matter how it happened, it was inevitable for the ‘corruption’ to infect the [Tree of Life].”

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Because even if the imbalance had needed to be corrected, the scale had tipped too far in one direction — weight piled on by humanity itself as the conflict that had once only been opposing words and ideas turned into a conflagration.  

 

〈Turning into the war between ‘saints’ and ‘demons’.〉

 

It was the [Core], the basis for the [Tree of Life] to understand such things.  So it understood more than anything in existence that —

 

《Sometimes a smaller destruction was needed in order to prevent a bigger destruction.》

 

In the end, the [Tree of Life] had decided to sacrifice itself, using its own [Story] to help douse the excessive destruction and allow for creation to grow its roots once again.  It scattered the fragments of its [Story], gave pieces of itself to be weaved into the fabric of their world, and faded away as the scales were righted back to center.

 

It even gifted a piece of itself to its twin, knowing that the [Tree of Knowledge] would not be able to survive without it.  

 

But from then on, the [Tree of Knowledge] had forever been changed, its [Story] cradling the new [Words] and [Sentences], and in its own grief, it did something it had never thought to do before.

 

The [Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil] adapted its Fruit to directly influence their world.  

 

And the [Wall that Divides Good and Evil] was built from the deadened wood of the [Tree of Life].

 

It had been meant as a reminder of the destruction that humanity had wrought upon themselves.

 

〈The destruction it wrought upon its twin.〉

 

However, out of the both of them, the [Tree of Life] had always been more forgiving, and it had already carved itself out from their world.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

“Until now.”  Gabriel mumbled.

 

“Until now.”  Kim Dokja echoed.

 

“Baat.”

 

“So…” Jophiel started, and Kim Dokja noted there was an inkling of suspicion glinting in her gaze.  She had always been wise in ways that the other archangels weren’t.  Especially sensitive to Kim Dokja’s particular brand of secrecy.

 

Kim Dokja sighed.  “So.”

 

“Is the [Tree of Life] really gone?”

 

He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking deeply, before he opened his mouth —

 

A thin root snaked around his torso, winding up and around where he cradled Biyoo.  However it didn’t squeeze them, only applying firm pressure.  Still it continued, spreading higher and higher, and even wrapping him below, around his thighs and legs and ankles, until he and Biyoo were completely encased in an organic cocoon.  

 

He could hear the muffled shouts of the others only for a moment before he was tugged back.

 

He didn’t panic and neither did Biyoo, since both of them had been sensitive to the growing impatience that they felt radiating from the [Tree of Knowledge].

 

Because in order to use the portal to take them to their actual destination, Kim Dokja had already understood that a bargain had to be made with the one that created it — a piece of the [Story] that Kim Dokja hadn’t shared.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

After the Dokkaebi King had pushed the Wenny Man into the ‘In-Between’, he had felt regret for the first time, even as he grieved for the companionship he had lost.

 

Regret for the destruction that he had helped along in his willful ignorance.

 

The Dokkaebi King saw a reflection of his own grief in the [Tree of Knowledge], and, in exchange for allowing them the use of the portal — so that he could take himself and his new charge away from this world to find a new home somewhere else — he would help to save what was left of the [Story] of the [Tree of Life].

 

Of course the [Tree of Knowledge] carried some resentment towards the Dokkaebi King.  The King had stood idly by and let the Wenny Man continue on with his machinations without any interference.  But the Tree also recognized that it wasn’t entirely blameless either — that it had a hand in the destruction of its twin.

 

And, no matter how small, if there was even a chance that its twin could be rescued, it would take it.

 

Even if it meant they would be apart.    

 

So the Dokkaebi King had helped to preserve an uncorrupted sapling — an intact [Fragment] of the [Tree of Life], taking it with them to a new world, a new dimension.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Now, Kim Dokja just had to figure out a way to bridge the gap between the two, so that the [Tree of Knowledge] could finally reconnect with its twin.

Chapter 42: The Twin Trees, Part 3

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

The sky was dark, darker than Yoo Joonghyuk could ever remember seeing it before.  The darkness was dense, like a fog stretching all the way across the horizon, advancing over the barren land.  And, even at this distance, Yoo Joonghyuk still felt suffocated by it.

 

Faceless bodies were strewn across the ground, like he was sitting in the middle of a battlefield where the only victor was Death, itself.

 

The landscape that had yet to be claimed by the hungry darkness was washed in gray twilight, as if any color was sucked out of the world leaving behind only the contrasting variance of shades, light against dark and dark against light.  

 

All he could smell was the coppery tang of blood and sweat and feces.

 

〈Death was never pretty to the living.〉

 

He tried not to look too closely at the faces nearest to him, afraid that he would recognize whoever it was.

 

A phantom breeze brushed against his bare cheeks and the chill it left in its wake made him aware that his face was wet.  

 

It wasn’t raining.  

 

He moved to reach up to touch his cheek only to find there was something weighing down his hands, his arms.  

 

A visceral dread began creeping through his veins, something like precognition already warning him, but his gaze drifted down anyway, inevitability a heavy presence in his mind.

 

〈He wished he hadn’t looked.〉

 

His throat seized up, shock freezing him for a mere moment.  Then, deep familiar despair fractured his thoughts, his chest growing cottony, as he pulled the lifeless body in his arms tightly against him.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes were wide, his stare blank, as he sat there clutching the body close.

 

He couldn’t remember how they got here.

 

『Kim Dokja.』

 

His mind couldn’t focus, as everything inside him started to shatter, and he wished more than anything that the pieces would cut him deep enough that he would bleed out quickly, too.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk no longer cared where he was or why he was there or how they got to this point.  

 

Grief drowned out everything else.

 

Then the darkness swallowed them up.

 

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Yoo Joonghyuk took a gasping breath, his eyes snapping open.  His vision was blurry, wetness clouding his gaze.  He blinked rapidly a few times while his mind tried to return to his body.

 

Tried to make sense of where he was now.  

 

“Did you dream, Joonghyuk-ah?”

 

Before he was even conscious of his actions, Yoo Joonghyuk was already turning his head, finding that he was resting on Kim Dokja’s thigh, and buried his face into Kim Dokja’s stomach.  He barely noticed that his face was pressed to bare skin as he struggled to move his limbs so that he could curl around his Omega a bit tighter.

 

Even if it had been a dream — 〈or even if this was the dream, he didn’t care 〉— grief still held him in its grasp.  And, like a reflection of how he felt in his dream, he didn’t care where he was or how he got here.  

 

〈As long as Kim Dokja was alive .〉

 

Kim Dokja seemed to understand as he ran his fingers through Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair soothingly.  A rusty purr vibrated through Yoo Joonghyuk from Kim Dokja’s chest.

 

He didn’t know how long they sat like that.

 

Then.

 

”[41] should have come through, as well.  But it may have been the transfer or even this place… it must have forcefully consolidated your [Stories].”

 

It had been a long time since Yoo Joonghyuk had felt that type of panic.  He knew it was his own panic because his Omega had seemed to be a calm, steady presence in their bond.

 

It took Yoo Joonghyuk a second to make sense of what the hell Kim Dokja was talking about, then everything from before came rushing back.

 

He and [41] had not hesitated for a moment, following Kim Dokja and Biyoo through the activated portal.

 

But remembering anything beyond that was a blur.

 

A quick check did confirm that [41] had re-unified with him.  However, as [41] tried to separate again, they found that there was a force keeping them… contained.  He shrugged it off, not particularly worried since Yoo Joonghyuk noted that his other fragments, like [777] and [888] were still with Yoo Mia, separate from him.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk cleared the stuffiness in his throat before asking, his voice muffled against Kim Dokja’s stomach.  “Where are we?”  Then, sudden worry.  “Where’s Biyoo?”

 

”Biyoo is fine.  She’s over there, dreaming.”

 

「Wherever “over there” was.」

 

Kim Dokja sounded calm and quiet, his purr hitching slightly as he spoke.

 

”We’re… this place… it has many names.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nipped Kim Dokja admonishingly.  “Speak plainly, Kim Dokja.”  Then, as an afterthought.  “What happened to your shirt?”

 

Kim Dokja huffed out a laugh and tugged Yoo Joonghyuk’s ear.  “Be patient.  I’m trying to explain.  I had to borrow your coat to tuck Biyoo in.  She was a bit fussy and I had to improvise a nest in order for her to sleep.”

 

He paused.  “We’re in… it’s the deepest part of the Dark Fault that can be explored.  Just at the edge of the Abyss.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk tried to hold on to his reason, momentarily deciding to give his Omega the benefit of the doubt — because, of course, Kim Dokja wouldn’t have known they would end up close to the Abyss, right ? — and he reluctantly turned his head to study what he could see.

 

Shifting opalescent colors were reflecting off of a void-like darkness, vaguely reminding him of being underwater.  But the only thing he could be sure of was the solidness of the floor beneath them, but everything else…

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stopped trying to make sense of it — he was becoming dizzier the more he tried to force some sense into what he was seeing — and he noticed there was a small dome protruding from the floor.  It was filled with a swirling mist that sparked and sparkled, casting a dim light that was brighter than the darkness surrounding it.  Yet, as he focused on what was inside —

 

Between one thought and the next he found himself kneeling directly in front of the dome, his palm pressed firmly to the cold surface.

 

A sleeping Biyoo was trapped inside.

 

But before Yoo Joonghyuk could feel another round of panic, Kim Dokja was there, gently covering his hand, explaining calmly.

 

”Don’t worry.”

 

That made Yoo Joonghyuk worry even more.  Nothing good ever followed when anyone started with “don’t worry”.

 

”She’s just… reconnecting…”

 

”’Reconnecting’ with what exactly ?”

 

Kim Dokja hesitated and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel a bit of nervousness radiating from his Omega.

 

”Well… with the god of this world.”

 

「…」

 

”Kim Dokja.”

 

It was the warning of an unhappy Alpha.

 

”Yah!  Wait!  Let me explain.”

 

However, before Yoo Joonghyuk could pin Kim Dokja down — because Yoo Joonghyuk knew his Omega by now, and the squirrelly bastard (said with all the endearment and affection he could hold for his mate) would try to dance in circles before actually answering his questions — they both started sinking, deeper and deeper.

 

Until the floor swallowed them up.

 

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They were falling sideways.

 

The sudden shift in equilibrium was somewhat disorienting, and if Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t already had his arms around Kim Dokja, his Omega would have crashed to the floor.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk nearly drew his sword — a reflexive reaction since the room they were transported to started shifting, furniture and furnishings appearing from the once-bare walls and floor space, but Kim Dokja stayed his hand and pulled them to the nearest couch, dropping down onto the soft cushions.

 

“We must have been disturbing Biyoo’s rest.  It probably moved us here because we were getting too loud.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't even want to acknowledge how Kim Dokja already seemed so very... comfortable in this place.

 

「Wait... ‘It’... as in…?」

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

Maybe Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t been asking the right questions.  He crowded Kim Dokja against the cushions, caging the Omega in, before growling out, “ What is this place?”

 

There was a definitive anxiousness vibrating through Kim Dokja as he answered, “In some places, it’s called the ‘World Tree’.  In other places, it has more specific names like ‘Yggdrasil’, ‘Akshaya Vata’, or ‘Crann Bethadh’.  But it’s more like… a node… or a nexus.  This one in particular… It grew from the sapling of the [Tree of Life].”

Chapter 43: The Wall, Part 1 (*)

Notes:

Warning
Descriptions of sexual activities.

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Kim Dokja scrambled to grab onto the arm rest above him.  He pressed his face into the cushions, muffling the moan that had been building in his chest for some time now.  

 

He thought it must have been one step too far for his Alpha — that Yoo Joonghyuk had reached some sort of breaking point after his declaration.  It had been like a switch had flipped, where there once had been a wild madness radiating from his Alpha, now there was a calculated calm.

 

Well as calm as Yoo Joonghyuk could be at the moment.

 

He could cut his Alpha a bit of slack.  Yoo Joonghyuk had been so patient with him thus far, practically letting Kim Dokja drag him from one scenario to the next, running on blind faith alone.

 

However.

 

“Joonghyuk-ah, I— ngh— think it’s e-enough— ahh—”

 

Electric arousal jolted through Kim Dokja as Yoo Joonghyuk squeezed a fourth finger inside of him, mercilessly stretching him out.  Then he felt the softer, rough texture of his Alpha’s tongue tracing the edges of his rim.

 

“Ahh— W-wait!  That’ll make it more sen— Angh!”

 

「Too sensitive.」As if Kim Dokja wasn’t already teetering on the edge of the cliff.  The reaction to his Alpha’s saliva was instant, his body already attuned to it.  His abdomen clenched and slick dripped down the backs of his thighs like twin rivers.

 

“That’s the point.”  Yoo Joonghyuk mumbled against him.  The vibration from his voice against the most tender parts of Kim Dokja sent a chill skittering across his skin.

 

Kim Dokja’s cock was leaking, precum slowly pooling beneath him while Yoo Joonghyuk continued his torture until Kim Dokja was writhing on his tongue and fingers.

 

Craving something thicker and longer and much more solid .

 

Kim Dokja nearly sobbed in relief when he felt the blunt head of Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock probe at his twitching hole.  Instinct had him arching his back a little more enticingly, presenting properly so that his Alpha would finally reward him with the orgasm he could feel building at the base of his spine.  He was so on edge that he’d likely cum the moment Yoo Joonghyuk started pushing in.

 

But then.

 

【Don’t come unless I give you permission.】

 

Then in one brutal thrust, Yoo Joonghyuk forced himself in to the hilt, hips pressed against Kim Dokja ass, sliding in with an audible squelch from all of the slick that had been pooling inside of him in expectation for his impending climax.  Still, the denied orgasm had Kim Dokja’s mouth dropping open, his Alpha’s bark restraining him right at the peak, unable to fall no matter how much he wanted to.

 

His throat felt tight, thin breaths the only thing passing through, as his body was kept at the precipice.  His thoughts were stuck between indignation — that Yoo Joonghyuk would use his status for a thing like this — and the exponentially building pleasure that nearly had his brains melting out of his ears while his Alpha roughly fucked into him.

 

Weak “ah, ah, ahs” were pushed from his lungs with every thrust, and he barely resisted when fingers threaded through his hair and an arm banded around his chest, pulling him up so that his weight was on his knees.

 

The new angle somehow forced Yoo Joonghyuk deeper, his cock bullying Kim Dokja’s prostate, and Kim Dokja nearly choked on the shout that was forced out of him.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his mouth against Kim Dokja’s ear.  “Maybe we need to chain you in your nest, Omega.  Maybe keeping you drunk on our cocks and begging for our knots is the only way to make you stay put .”

 

The Omega in him was apparently okay with such a pronouncement.  With every word, his Omega brain ran wild, already imagining himself filled to the brim with his Alphas’ cum, never needing to go very far to hunt for a knot.  His slick walls clenched even tighter around the cock he was impaled on, struggling to milk it with every thrust, and the continuously mounting pressure became more insistent.  The sound that escaped him landed somewhere between a whine and a whimper as he begged, “Yes, Alpha.  I want it, I want it!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed in approval, seeming unaffected by his Omega writhing on his dick.  However, his body’s reaction said otherwise, putting in a bit more force behind the rocking of his hips, his knot slowly growing bigger, tugging at the edges of Kim Dokja’s rim.

 

But even after his Alpha pushed himself in with a snarl, his knot inflating and locking them together, his cum painting his Omega’s walls with a searing heat as he emptied himself inside of Kim Dokja —

 

〈He still didn’t let Kim Dokja cum.〉

 

“A-alpha! Please !”

 

Slowly, Yoo Joonghyuk moved them, sitting Kim Dokja on his lap while the Omega was stretched around his knot.  The Alpha nuzzled into the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck, seeming oblivious to Kim Dokja’s pitiful pants and whines, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

 

“Ahngh!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk gripped his Omega’s over-sensitized cock and started pumping it, the glide made smoother with the copious amount of precum already coating it.

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t decide if he should push more firmly into his Alpha’s palm or grind back onto his Alpha’s knot, the never-ending torture he was mercilessly being subjected to overwhelming his senses.

 

〈He just wanted to cum, dammit! 〉

 

Unintelligible sounds spilled from his lips while Yoo Joonghyuk toyed with his cock.  His Alpha wetly nipped and licked at his claiming mark, and for a time Kim Dokja drowned in a muffled subspace, submitting completely to his Alpha’s whims.  Like this, he could almost feel the shape of their bond, and he fuzzily thought that this was how Yoo Joonghyuk might be reading him so easily. 

 

Because every time Kim Dokja would peak, even though he was still under the pressure of his Alpha’s earlier command, Yoo Joonghyuk would stop stroking him.  Instead, he would drag the flat of his palm down the length of Kim Dokja’s cock, then lightly trace the edges of his swollen, stretched hole with his fingers.  Then, after Kim Dokja had calmed down, he would start the process all over again.

 

Kim Dokja started drifting, anticipating, yearning for the build-up.  So it was a complete shock to his system when —

 

“Cum for me, Baby.”

 

His body seized up, like being stretched taught and only able to balance on the tips of his toes.  

 

But the crash— oh—

 

“ Fuck !” 

 

It’s the only word he could manage to squeeze out as the climax rocked through him.  

 

Kim Dokja threw his head back, bracing against Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder while his vision whited-out.  He was only vaguely aware of the wetness coating his chest as cum squirted from his cock in a stream.  The waves continued on and on, Yoo Joonghyuk relentlessly pushing him higher as he rocked his knot with every squeeze, pressing against Kim Dokja’s spasming walls as a mixture of slick and cum worked its way out of the tight seal, soaking them both, making a mess of Yoo Joonghyuk’s lap.

 

Kim Dokja didn’t know when it ended, when the tension finally left his body and he was released from the onslaught.  He was only vaguely aware of Yoo Joonghyuk petting his thigh, his cheek.  

 

“Rest now, Dokja-yah.  Then you can explain more clearly what the fuck is going on.”

 

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Kim Dokja woke slowly.  He felt warm, but not overly so.  It was a comfortable contentment, wrapped in Yoo Joonghyuk’s distinct scent.  He heard the sound of porcelain set down softly on wood, followed by the smell of spice and herbs and sizzled meat cooked to perfection.

 

The cushions beneath him dipped and shifted.  He cracked open his eyes to see that they were no longer on a couch, but on a bed.  Yoo Joonghyuk was propped up against the headboard, a plate of food on the side table, and Kim Dokja dazedly let his Alpha maneuver him to sit between Yoo Joonghyuk’s legs and lean back against his chest.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hand-fed Kim Dokja perfectly cooked pieces of meat.  A satisfied purr rumbled against his back in the silence.

 

It was only when the plate was empty that Kim Dokja was finally awake and aware enough to notice that the layout of the room had shifted once again.  Across from them was the blank wall they had initially fell through with the couch directly in front of it.  To their left was a kitchen that must have been fully stocked for Yoo Joonghyuk to be able to cook them a meal.  Most of the furnishings were made of wood or colored in earthen tones.

 

Except for the blank, white wall.

 

Noticing where his attention had gone, Yoo Joonghyuk murmured, “The kitchen only appeared when I directly thought about it.  Like the bed.  And the bathtub.”

 

Kim Dokja was relieved to hear that his Alpha seemed more calm than before and he hoped that it meant Yoo Joonghyuk would be more rationally accepting to listen to his explanation.  Hopefully he could hold on to his patience for just a bit longer.

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  “The last time I was here, I noticed the same thing.  This place seems to be… somewhat sentient, to the extent that it can utilize probability.  Within reason, of course.”

 

“... ‘Probability’?”

 

“It’s like… the moment before potential energy becomes kinetic.  That’s the closest explanation I can come up with.  It was a concept that originated from the Dokkaebi King.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk buried his nose in Kim Dokja’s neck and asked, “So… is this place similar to New City?  Like plugging in to the Network?”

 

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully.  “Well…It’s more likely that New City was modeled after this place, instead.  But yes, it’s kind of like that, except instead of an implant, we’ve already been biologically hardwired into the system, so to speak.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand briefly spasmed where it rested on Kim Dokja’s thigh, the only outward sign that his Alpha was being shaken from his self-imposed tranquil state.  Yet his voice was level as he asked, “Is Biyoo safe?  You said she was… reconnecting…?”

 

Kim Dokja thought.  It should be safe now, right?  Here, in this space, they should be protected enough for Kim Dokja to finally tell Yoo Joonghyuk what exactly he got himself dragged into.

 

“I never did get to say how dokkaebis manifest.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted, willing to let Kim Dokja start where he needed to.

 

“Usually they form where there is a particularly…interesting [Fragment] of a forgotten [Story].  I’m not exactly sure how or why, but it just seems to happen that way.  Like a subconscious response.  But Biyoo… Well… she’s the Dokkaebi King’s legacy, in both a figurative and literal sense of the word.”

 

“Because Biyoo’s egg in particular had been the egg that the Dokkaebi King had escaped with when he left Eden through the portal.”

 

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After the Dokkaebi King had escaped to the next dimension, for a time he isolated himself from the rest of the world.

 

He divided his time between tending to the newly planted sapling of the former [Tree of Life] and contemplating about the egg he had brought with him.

 

He thought about a lot of things — about the purpose of his existence, about the reason he had been born into this world.  

 

Although he couldn’t answer these questions directly, he understood that dokkaebis were typically formed by ‘natural’ means.  Because even if he removed himself from it, he still couldn’t help his instinct to keep watching the world he had left behind.  So, in many instances, he witnessed the birth of a new dokkaebi.  And, over time, he noticed how dokkaebi eggs usually appeared where forgotten [Fragments] gathered, forming and feeding the dokkaebi’s [Core].

 

《So what would happen if a dokkaebi egg was formed without a [Core]?》

 

If a dokkaebi were to be born without a [Core], what would that mean?  

 

Would it live a void-like existence, wandering the worlds and dimensions and universe searching for its purpose?  

 

Would it result in complete chaos and destruction?

 

Whatever it was, the Dokkaebi King couldn’t deny that it would likely cause another imbalance.  

 

He had already seen the consequences of such an event in their world, and he wasn’t keen to let it happen again.

 

However.

 

The Dokkaebi King wasn’t able to just abandon the dokkaebi egg nor could he bring himself to destroy it.  

 

What if it was possibly trapped in a state of purgatory, unable to be born, unable to follow its instinct to watch the [Stories] it was forced to love?

 

The only solution he could see would be to take pieces of [Stories] that were already in existence — [Stories] from the humans that lived in their world — and feed them to the dokkaebi egg, so that it could hatch and have the chance to live their own existence someday.

 

But the Dokkaebi King couldn’t steal those pieces without consequence.  He still felt regret for how he had once callously and naively torn apart other [Stories], caught up in the Wenny Man’s greed for more.

 

So instead, he built a sanctum in a rift where time moves slower than the rest of the world.  Like an incubator, it would allow for the dokkaebi egg to properly absorb pieces of wandering or forgotten [Fragments].

 

And he could only hope that a [Core] would eventually form.

 

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“Apparently it worked.”

 

“Apparently it did.”

 

“So.  Why are we here, in this place?”

 

Kim Dokja thought as he stared at the blank, white wall in front of them.  Then, heedless of his own nakedness, he turned and straddled Yoo Joonghyuk’s thighs, bringing his hands up to cradle his Alpha’s face between his palms.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands automatically came up to grasp his hips, steadying him, as Kim Dokja searched Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze.

 

“From the moment we exist in this world, our ending is fixed.”

 

A hard, cold glint sparked in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes.  Whether it was because those words sounded too close to things like [Fate] or destiny, Kim Dokja didn’t know, but he softly brushed his thumbs against Yoo Joonghyuk’s cheeks, tracing his arching cheekbones, coaxing his Alpha softly.

 

“Of course, it also means that the moment we exist in this world, our beginning is fixed, as well.”

 

A short growl rumbled in Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest.  “‘Fixed’ to… what exactly?”

 

Kim Dokja laughed softly.  “Isn’t that the ultimate question.”  He gently bit down on the tip of his tongue in thought.  “The best I could come up with was that it is a ‘god’ in the sense that…it merely…watches.  Like it is an omnipresent god that…”

 

He trailed off, turning his head to look back at the blank wall.  

 

“Like a [Dreamer] who doesn’t know they are dreaming — only watching, with very little awareness to really…change anything.”

 

《Or, like a [Reader] who is omniscient, but not omnipotent, only reading the story with anticipation and excitement and an unconditional love for the story— no matter how awful the hardships or how devastating the tragedy.》

 

A small ripple rolled through the surface of the wall — a barrier trying to contain his [Words].

 

“And the last thing we want is to draw the god's attention.”

 

Because as much as they would like to humanize such a being, it was important to remember that it didn’t mean that the god would be omnibenevolent...

 

For a moment, it felt like Kim Dokja was separate from his body, lost in thought, so he didn’t notice Yoo Joonghyuk leaning in.  He jolted, forced back to awareness, the edge of his Alpha’s teeth lightly sinking into the most sensitive part of his neck.

 

“Ah…”  He breathily moaned, his voice pitched low, from the mixture of pain and pleasure as the pressure increased.  But it was only hard enough to bruise but not break his skin, and Yoo Joonghyuk lapped soothingly over the new mark.

 

Kim Dokja whimpered as the spot became more tender, nerve-endings sparking as his Alpha’s saliva started to take effect.

 

When Yoo Joonghyuk pulled back, Kim Dokja would have thought he was coolly unstirred, if it wasn’t for the half-hard cock pressing against his thigh and the smug smirk that graced Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth.

 

“Focus, Kim Dokja.  What does this have to do with Biyoo?”

 

Kim Dokja shook off his muddled thoughts, pinching his Alpha’s cheek in admonishment.  It seemed his Alpha found a new way to re-ground him.  

 

“Well, Biyoo’s egg wasn’t formed by normal means.  Basically, it was forced into existence purely because of the Wenny Man’s greed.  Through no fault of her own, her egg was created without a tether, disconnected from the god of this world.”

 

“And there’s nothing that could be more attractive to an as-of-yet ignorant god than a singularity that hadn’t existed before.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted, not particularly happy with anything that had been revealed thus far.  But then his gaze focused on something behind Kim Dokja, widening briefly while he pulled the bedsheet around his Omega’s shoulders, a possessive snarl emerging from his throat.

 

Kim Dokja remained calm, except for the embarrassment that had a warm blush spreading across his face.  He turned to see what his Alpha was looking at, even though he already had an idea of what it was.

 

〚Kim Dok ja.  Yo u ca me b ack.〛

 

Words formed from smoke that was creeping across the once blank wall.

 

〚Y ou br ou ght mo re St orie s th is time, I se e.〛

 

“Kim Dokja.”

 

〚H ow int eres ting.〛

Chapter 44: The Wall, Part 2

Notes:

Apologies, Dear Reader-nims, for the long update period. I've been pretty sick and haven't been able to put much words on a page these past few weeks. Thank you for your patience.

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Yoo Joonghyuk was both unsurprised and growing more and more agitated with the circumstances that they just kept running head-first into.  Combined with the building frustration that he had no idea what was going on or what was going to happen next, needless to say his patience was wearing thin.

 

Because from what he had gleaned so far was that Kim Dokja — their very precious Omega mate — had been manipulated by the Bureau — the dokkaebi — to become a guardian of the soon-to-be Dokkaebi King, on-top-of putting him directly in the crosshairs of a shady, underground cult called the ‘Seekers of the End’ — that has been in operation for who knows how long, with the very specific goal of bringing about the apocalypse to destroy their world — which ERS had very little knowledge or records of.

 

Yoo Joonghyuk had found that more than a little strange.  Being an agent of ERS for the past decade or so, he had thought he had his ear to the ground more than most, with access to information and intelligence that the average citizens didn’t have.  Not to mention [41]’s own paranoia, the more highly-classified and covert operations and missions that they participated in allowed them access to assess the goings-on of the darker, seedier activities of humans that happened in the shadows.  

 

There was security in knowing that, as a highly-ranked esper, the value and confidence he had in his skills and power and expertise was more than enough to protect the things he needed to protect.

 

〈He hadn’t known how naive he really was until he met Kim Dokja.〉

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he didn’t pay attention to how he was manhandling Kim Dokja, wrapping his (surprisingly) compliant Omega like a burrito in the sheets, before carrying them both over to the couch that they had… ‘christened’ thoroughly earlier.

 

His jaw ticked, possessiveness and protection arcing through him sharply, as he thought of how the couch was very close to the ‘wall’ that was the current target of his ire.

 

Kim Dokja managed to get an arm free and he poked Yoo Joonghyuk’s tense jaw admonishingly.  “The [Wall] is not all seeing.  From what I can tell, it is a remnant of the Dokkaebi King before he…left this reality.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted, his glare still directed at the [Wall], while words started to form once again.

 

〚Wh y so se ri ous?〛

 

If Kim Dokja wasn’t currently sitting in his lap, Yoo Joonghyuk might have thrown his sword at it by now, imagining vividly how the blade would slice through the forming characters.

 

〈Maybe even stopping the sentences before they were completed.〉

 

If it were at all possible, it would be the most effective way to make the [Wall] shut up .

 

〚Kim Dok ja… you bro ught…〛

 

”Yes.  She is resting now.  Can’t you sense her?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know if he just imagined it, but the [Wall] seemed hesitant before saying.

 

〚I ca n.  S he is str ong er th an ex pect ed.〛

 

”…So you did expect this.  How much… how much of the Dokkaebi King’s [Story] do you know?”

 

〚… On ly th e end.〛

 

Kim Dokja mumbled to himself, his expression distant, “How does that make sense?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk inhaled deeply, holding the air in his lungs for a few seconds, before slowly sighing, his breath ruffling Kim Dokja’s messy bedhead hair.  He prepared himself for another round of questions and information that would likely bring back the momentary ‘madness’ that riled up his Alpha instincts past the point of no return.

 

Then he’d have to make his Omega submit to him all over again.

 

He paused.  Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

 

“You should go see her.  And start preparing yourself.”  Kim Dokja suggested.

 

〚Ye s.  S he sho uld be wak ing up so on…〛

 

It was as if a palpable pressure left the space, like the air was suddenly sucked from the room, then the [Wall] became quiet.

 

Before Kim Dokja could sink too deeply into his thoughts, Yoo Joonghyuk asked, “What doesn’t make sense?”

 

Kim Dokja’s gaze was fixed on the [Wall] as he answered, “The [Wall] seems to only know the end of the Dokkaebi King’s [Story].  And yet, from what I [Read] from the [Story Core] that Biyoo absorbed, it seemed as if the Dokkaebi King had resided here for many years before he left this existence…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk thought.  “That would mean the [Wall] hadn’t existed before then.  Maybe the [Story Core] wasn’t a complete record?”

 

Kim Dokja nodded.  “It seems so, since it never mentioned the [Wall] either…  I guess that would make some sense.  But it doesn’t really explain how no one remembers the history of Eden…”

 

The silence stretched between them, only to be broken when Kim Dokja stiffened in his arms and asked, “What was your dream about, Joonghyuk-ah?”

 

Grief pierced through Yoo Joonghyuk at the reminder of the dream he had, the memory of holding a dead Kim Dokja in his arms as heavy as reality itself, and he clenched his jaw.  Illogically, it felt like if he described his dream, spoke the words into existence, it would transform the dream into an unchangeable prophecy they could never escape.  Yoo Joonghyuk had never been superstitious, but why borrow trouble when there was no need to… 

 

So it was a relief that he wasn’t actually expecting Yoo Joonghyuk to answer when Kim Dokja continued speaking.  

 

“I dreamed of endless darkness.  But, before that… I think… I dreamed of you...”

 

It was Yoo Joonghyuk’s turn to stiffen, a sense of foreboding flooding through him like ice creeping beneath his skin.

 

“It wasn’t very clear, but I just got the sense… Do you think, since the [Wall] ‘only knows the end’, and we had to pass through the [Wall] to get here…”

 

Kim Dokja swallowed roughly at the same time a low, rumbling growl started in Yoo Joonghuk’s chest, the earlier feeling of foreboding changing into something much stronger.

 

〈Something more like anger.〉

 

“Do you think we dreamed of—”

 

“ No .”  Yoo Joonghyuk responded sharply, vehement denial dripping from the single word.

 

Disgust was there, as well, since things like prophecy and fate and destiny made Yoo Joonghyuk’s stomach turn.

 

“I’m just saying, what if —”

 

“No.”

 

“Don’t be so stubborn.  Even if it is—”

 

“No.”

 

“Will you please let me finish the thought, at least?”

 

“No.”

 

Kim Dokja huffed indignantly.  “Fine.”

 

Because even Kim Dokja didn’t want it to be true — that they ‘dreamed’ of their ‘end’.

 

But then.

 

“What if— Ack!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stood abruptly and walked back to the bed before tossing Kim Dokja onto the mattress.  He spun on his heel and stalked towards the kitchen while Kim Dokja shouted.

 

“Where did you learn to be so rude!”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled out potatoes, carrots, and celery as he adamantly ignored Kim Dokja’s ranting, but as he was reaching for the knife and cutting board, his Omega’s next words stopped his actions and stalled his thoughts.

 

“Instead of a ‘future end’, what if we ‘dreamed’ of a… ‘past end’...?”

 

“... ‘Past end’?”

 

Something in Yoo Joonghyuk’s tone must have given him away, because when he turned, he found Kim Dokja already studying him intently.

 

“Do you remember what you had asked me once, when we first met?”

 

「What had he asked again?」  

 

“You had asked if I could [Read] your [Story].”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk did remember, but it felt like such a long time ago.  Like it had become an insignificant detail after he had started spending more and more time with Kim Dokja.  Like it was a question that no longer needed to be answered because that part of him no longer felt… hollow .

 

《Like Yoo Joonghyuk was no longer missing a part of his [Story].》

 

“To be honest, I haven’t really tried yet, but… have you ever felt as if, maybe your past— your beginning— started someplace else… or even some other time…?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk stood frozen, his gaze focused on Kim Dokja while his mind tried to decipher what it was that Kim Dokja was implying.  

 

But Kim Dokja just kept talking.  “Like taking the film from one movie reel and sticking it to the back of another film— repairing it only because parts of one of the films were destroyed.  The contents of the movies don't really affect each other but the two films are still connected.  Like past memories up to a certain point don’t quite fit, but it’s not like there’s anything obviously wrong about it…”

 

“Kim Dokja.  Speak plainly.”

 

“I’m trying!  But there’s too many pieces missing!”  

 

Kim Dokja ran a hand through his hair.  “I always thought that it was strange that Michael or Urielle or Gabriel, or anyone for that matter, didn’t remember anything about the [Tree of Life].  And the Dokkaebi King’s [Story Core] didn’t mention anything about the Dark Fault.”

 

He took a deep breath and exhaled roughly.  “But there was definitely a time before espers and guides.  The artifacts influenced not only our world, but the genetic core of our species in unprecedented ways.  Do you know why there’s a compatibility rating between espers and guides?”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head once, his attention divided between staying in the present, listening to Kim Dokja explain another piece of the seemingly endless puzzle, while, at the same time, feeling a sense of deja vu.

 

〈Like this wasn’t the first time he had heard this history.〉

 

“It was a system developed by the Dokkaebi King— after he realized that the artifacts were literal pieces of other, foreign [Stories] that were brought into our world, completely changing the DNA of humans.  A high compatibility rating between an esper and a guide meant that they were affected by the same [Story]01— parts of the same [Story] finding other, familiar pieces in this world.”

 

“Then why is there a low compatibility rating?  Shouldn’t it just be zero if the [Stories] aren’t the same?”

 

“Not necessarily.  Most [Stories] have similar, cliche themes or overarching plots.  Sooyoung-ah once told me —『”There is nothing new under the sun.  Everything that is written is a modification of what has already been written.”』 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk asked, “So what does it mean if there is still compatibility, but there is only pain during the guiding process?”

 

Again, it felt as if he were reading from a script.

 

Still, he was eager to hear the answer, nonetheless.

 

Kim Dokja’s gaze softened as he looked at Yoo Joonghyuk.  “Well, that sounds like receiving guiding from someone who you haven’t imprinted with, doesn’t it?”

 

「...What…?」

 

This particular reasoning had never crossed Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind because it was an impossible explanation for why he had always felt pain when he received guiding.  Imprinting between a guide and esper wasn’t a simple process, and he definitely would have remembered imprinting with a guide.  It was just that, after his transition into a transcendent, he had never had to think about it again.  

 

He didn’t even know why he was entertaining the possibility that this was the reason for his previous pain.  His mind whirled as he asked, “What does imprinting mean between a guide and an esper— other than the obvious?”

 

Because he knew what it meant on the surface, that it connected the energies of a guide and an esper, closing the circuit between them permanently.  The esper would no longer be able to be guided by a different guide without feeling pain, and the guide would no longer be able to guide another esper at all.

 

With a single finger, Kim Dokja drew a circle in the air.  “Ouroboros.  The [Stories] of the imprinted pair become connected, the destruction of one [Story] becoming the birth of another, [Words] continuously being devoured and spat out again as something different.  From the moment a guide and esper imprint, until their eventual end, their [Stories] change together.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at Kim Dokja.  “But I’ve never imprinted with a guide before.”

 

“That you know of.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk leaned back against the marble counter, his hands gripping the edge tightly.  At this point activating his skill [Three Restraints] would be futile.  He had tried it before and had ended up pouncing on Kim Dokja anyway.

 

“I think I would know if I imprinted with a guide before.”

 

A small smirk curved Kim Dokja’s lips as a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes.  “There is a way to find out if it’s true or not.”

 

The marble cracked in Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip.  He didn’t know why Kim Dokja kept pushing with this line of reasoning.  Through gritted teeth, he ground out, “How exactly do we do that?”

 

“First we’ll need the artifact that your [Story] resonates with.”

 

“Where would we find this very specific, yet unknown artifact exactly?”

 

“At the Bureau, of course.  They have this storeroom there with all of the artifacts that the Dokkaebi King had confiscated.”

 

Chunks of marble crumbled off of the counter slab.

 

Kim Dokja’s smile was sly as he asked, “Joonghyuk-ah, what did that poor counter do to you?”

 

It didn’t matter that they only had a half-bond between them because it seemed that Kim Dokja could [Read] Yoo Joonghyuk anyway.

 

He didn’t put up much of a fight as Yoo Joonghyuk pounced on him.  

 

〈Again.〉

Chapter 45: The Wall, Part 3

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Kim Dokja picked at a loose thread in the couch cushion, his gaze focused forward on the [Wall].

 

It felt like ages since he had a moment alone with his thoughts like this.  At one time, he had constantly worked towards having these types of moments — 〈always building walls between the people around him, regardless of how close they were to him, no matter how much he cared for them〉— but now… There was a certain hollowness to it that hadn’t been there before, leaving a trace of melancholic loneliness permeating his heart.

 

The loneliness, however, was a familiar friend, born from the dying hope of ever getting close enough to anyone — of ever feeling worthy enough to deserve such closeness.

 

His thoughts continued to spin in a pensive direction, and it was such a sudden change in his usual mood that he had to wonder how he even got here.

 

Was it the dream — 「that-didn’t- feel -like-a-dream」— that he had when he first passed through the [Wall]?  Because even if he hadn’t seen very much of anything, his vision already swallowed by darkness, he had recognized the solid presence of Yoo Joonghyuk there with him.   

 

Kim Dokja thought.

 

「Why had he been so drawn to Yoo Joonghyuk in the beginning?」

 

How had Yoo Joonghyuk breached his defenses so easily?

 

When was it that Kim Dokja had decided that his walls were not needed when it came to Yoo Joonghyuk?

 

The bonds that usually left a warm fullness in his chest were muted, the presence of it muffled because they were stuck behind the [Wall].  It was like he was submerged underwater when he first awoke in this place, and although he could still feel the connection, there was a stifled quality to it that wouldn’t be shaken off.

 

Kim Dokja ran his fingers along the raised edges of the scars on his neck if only to remind himself that the bond was real .  He didn’t look too closely at how quickly he had become accustomed to them, nor how much he already missed the feeling of the bond being wide open.

 

A dull pain in his heart left a tightness in his throat — a reminder of his earlier conjecture.

 

「What if Yoo Joonghyuk really has already imprinted with another…」

 

He didn’t know why he thought it.  Yoo Joonghyuk had already made it apparent how angry he was for Kim Dokja even suggesting it.  But he knew that he couldn’t selfishly hide behind his own cowardice, his own jealousy —

 

He chewed on his lip.  Had he shared the idea with Yoo Joonghyuk for a noble reason — because he cared deeply for his Alpha…?

 

「Or had it been his self-sabotaging nature that had made him say it?」

 

The more he thought about it, he couldn’t tell where the line was drawn between either reason.

 

Still, it didn’t stop the pain from burrowing just a bit deeper.  The idea of having to share his Alpha with another…

 

「...」

 

Kim Dokja had witnessed first-hand how easily Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung had imprinted, the process so seamless that, for them, there was no difference before and after.

 

However.

 

He didn’t like whatever this was right now.  A feeling of uncertainty driving a wedge between Yoo Joonghyuk and him, making Kim Dokja feel off balance enough that for once his Omega tendencies provided comfort instead of conflict within himself.

 

Because he truly missed being surrounded by his Alphas — his Omega impulses pacing restlessly beneath his skin.  He missed how easy it was to reach for their newly-minted bonds for reassurance and peace. 

 

And the longer he stared at the [Wall], the more sure he became of what he had to do next.

 

After all, he reasoned, he had a bargain to fulfill anyway.  

 

So there was no hesitation when he stood from the couch, his senses stretching out, his skin sparking with hyper awareness of the smallest brush of his clothes against his skin, the soundless movement of his feet as he crossed the distance to stand directly in front of the [Wall].  

 

Between one breath and the next, the sizzle of [Electrification] engulfed his arm as he pulled his fist back and punched the spot in front of him — one, two, three, in quick succession.

 

The space shook around him, the foundations of the [Wall’s Story] rippling from the force.

 

The tactile feel of Kim Dokja’s bare knuckles hitting the surface was more like hitting a stack of paper — or like bound pages of a cover less book — instead of a more solid surface like crumbling brick or cement, yet it still cracked and fractured where his fist made contact and the sound that echoed around the room was more reminiscent of breaking glass.

 

“Kim Dokja!  What are you doing?!”

 

〚Kim Dok ja st op—!〛

 

His knuckles were cracked and bleeding from the impact, but he didn’t let that nor the warmth of Yoo Joonghyuk against his back distract him, even ignoring the ink-like characters of the [Wall] that appeared in front of him.  

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip on his arm was much too gentle in the face of Kim Dokja’s resolution and focus.  He easily broke free of it to deliver another series of blows to the [Wall] before Yoo Joonghyuk could get his arms around him and restrain him.

 

However.

 

As sparks danced around Kim Dokja, nipping at his skin as if to chastise him for his actions, a hole the size of a tennis ball marred the [Wall’s] once pristine surface.  Not long after, it felt like the air was being sucked out of the space around them — except it wasn’t air that was escaping through the hole.  [Words] streamed out in a river, trying to escape the space.  But there were [Words] struggling to get in, too, like ley lines carving a new path.  They were moving too fast for Kim Dokja to really make sense of them, but he was too distracted to care about it at all.  

 

Because there was a sensation flooding his system, like warm water chasing the cold from his limbs, as the bonds reignited in his chest.  The tangle of emotional feedback from his Alphas made his heart stutter before it resumed its normal rhythm.

 

But when his focus returned outside of himself, the space around him seemed a little… brighter, the colors bolder — 

 

《The Trees finally reuniting after being separated for a very long time.》

 

So when he turned to look at Yoo Joonghyuk—

 

Kim Dokja forgot how to breathe.

 

He decided that he had been living in a half-state until this very moment.  Like an unnoticed detail on an intricate tapestry had finally been seen and his understanding of the entire picture changed completely.  

 

He thought.

 

With this much detail — this much richness standing right in front of him — and with their mating bond glowing brightly within him, he would know if Yoo Joonghyuk was imprinted with another…

 

「Right?」

 

Just like how he knew there was a reason he hadn’t been able to completely [Read] the [Story] of Yoo Joonghyuk.  The proof was right in front of him as [Words] he had never seen before began weaving into place.  

 

However, it was all out of context, the syntax of the [Sentences] were a complete mess, and much like Kim Dokja’s [Stage Transformation] he needed the right setting to understand what it was he was [Reading].

 

A bolt of intuition made him think that he would find his answers at the Bureau.

 

He found himself reaching up, tracing the decidedly bare skin of Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, a feeling of dissonance running through his mind as—

 

“Kim Dokja.  Explain.”

 

And even in the face of Yoo Joonghyuk’s fury, Kim Dokja couldn't help but smile.  

 

But before he could answer, a solid thunk made Kim Dokja turn back to find a book stuck to the [Wall], covering the hole he had made.  He was able to catch brief glance at the cover—

 

「Well, the title was a little odd, wasn’t it?」

 

”Baat!”

 

— before a body dropped between him and Yoo Joonghyuk.  It seemed their daughter had finally awakened from her slumber.

 

Kim Dokja couldn’t help the small, surprised sound that escaped him, as he took a look at Biyoo — no longer a baby but a toddler with arms barely long enough to reach around his neck — and he reflexively supported her weight with his hands — a result from the many times he had had to catch her before.

 

He cleared his throat nervously.  ”It seems that she’s grown quickly.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted, his expression a mix of fondness and disgruntlement, before he directed a glare at Kim Dokja, wordlessly conveying that his Alpha was not so easily distracted and Kim Dokja better have a good reason for his actions.

 

“…We’ll need to take her to the Bureau, too.”

 

A deep, rumbling growl was Kim Dokja’s only response.

 

“Baat.”

 

Kim Dokja was not above avoiding Yoo Joonghyuk’s ire, as he followed the direction of Biyoo’s gaze, turning so that he could see the [Wall] and the sentences that were sluggishly forming.

 

〚Cheek y Kim Dok ja.〛

 

Kim Dokja’s smile was small and sad as he said, “I’m sorry.  There wasn’t any other way I could think of.”

 

〚…St ill… y ou sho uld ha ve as ked…〛

 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.  Your [Story] is already fixed.  The [Core] of it is ‘to protect’ —‘to divide’ — and you have followed your [Story] for a very long time.”

 

〚...Wi ll y ou con tinue do ing it your own way…?〛

 

He shuffled Biyoo in his arms as she cooed softly, sympathy apparent in her tone, and Kim Dokja reached out a hand to pat the [Wall] as if he were comforting a friend.

 

“You have remained unchanged for so long that sometimes it is hard to bend without breaking.  And a [Story] as old as yours… it required an external force in order to spark the beginnings of change…”

 

〚…des truct ion…cre at ion…〛

 

“The scales are moving again.  At least you won’t be alone here, anymore.”

 

Kim Dokja knew that with change came consequence.  He had already felt it coming —

《heading toward him like Surya’s speeding train casting light on all that was once dark, except when the Hounds had decided it was too much of an aberration, biting and tearing pieces off》— 

「 Where had that come from? 」

 

He didn’t know.  But he couldn’t deny that it was familiar .  Because the moment he had passed through the [Wall] to enter this place, something had shaken loose inside of him, making him feel a little lost, like he had forgotten an important piece of himself .

 

He clicked his tongue on the back of his teeth.

 

No matter how he turned it over in his mind, everything seemed to lead back to the Bureau, and they had to have been desperate to move probability to garner his attention.

 

Yet there was a small, conflicted part of him that he struggled to suppress — unfettered excitement at the prospect of change on the horizon, a new [Story] unfolding in their world — whether it brought about happiness or tragedy remained to be seen.

 

But.

 

He was a [Reader], after all.  He would enjoy watching it.

 

《Regardless of the consequence.》

Notes:

Thank you, dear Reader-nims, for the well-wishes. And thank you for your patience with the updates.

Chapter 46: The Fault, Part 1

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Kim Dokja awoke in an empty space that was dyed in chromatic pigment and shadow.  There was both a sense of familiarity and dissonance, like he had been here many times before, yet he knew that he always drifted aimlessly and weightless. 

 

But, this time, the landscape had somehow shifted.  There was an almost luminescent quality to the space.  Instead of being dyed in watery twilight, it shimmered with a vibrancy that hadn’t been there before.

 

《As if by reuniting the Trees and reconnecting their [Stories], it had affected this dreamscape just as much as it had affected the real world.》

 

Kim Dokja was slightly unsettled by the fact that he knew that he was currently in a dream, and it only made him more anxious that it was a dream he had had many times before.  

 

There was something there — just at the edge of his memory something had shaken loose when he passed through the [Wall].  Yet it was as if there were pieces still missing — [Words] yet to be discovered and slotted into place. 

 

However, this wasn’t the space to think too deeply about such things.  

 

Because, like the time before, he wasn’t alone here.  

 

The moment he was able to recognize the presence, the subconscious parts of him finding an affectionate warmth in their connection, something seemed to resolve and he could better understand why this particular presence was here.  

 

So, this time, Kim Dokja did not look to his left to watch the creeping blanket of white, weightless mist.  

 

And he did not look to his right to see the edge of a hungry void-like darkness swallowing up the space.  

 

Instead he looked down — or was it up, he couldn’t really tell — only to find—

 

“Father!”

 

— a Biyoo drifting toward him, looking much older than the version he knew.  At the sight of her, he could only open his phantom-like arms to catch her when she collided with his chest.  

 

Kim Dokja didn’t feel disturbed by the incongruity with this version of his daughter, wasn’t at all bothered with hearing her speak words that he had never heard her say before — the dream softening the edges of logic enough that he found it easy to accept.

 

He asked, “What are you doing here?”

 

Biyoo rubbed her face into his chest like a pup seeking affection, her answer muffled as she mumbled, “You shouldn’t be back so soon, Father.  Too much time here isn’t good for your health.”

 

Apprehension skittered down his spine.  It was the first time he recalled ever feeling uncomfortable in this place.  The ever-present pressure that was slowly growing denser around him started to make him feel suffocated where once he had felt reassured.  

 

What was this place, he wanted to ask.  

 

Why did he keep coming back here, he wanted to say.  

 

But confusion kept his mouth shut and dismay kept his thoughts circling and it was the first time guilt seeped into the cracks of his conscience at the fact that he had decided to run away from responsibility all those years ago.  

 

There was a vague outline of a different truth — a much more intricate truth that he would have never conceived of and still couldn’t quite see the scope of.  It was slowly becoming more and more apparent to him that the more the truth of their world was unraveled, the more it revealed how foolish he had been while naively walking through this life.

 

How, once again, he had been actively ignoring a [Single Story] — a story that was turning out to be very important.

 

Kim Dokja absently petted Biyoo’s hair — the shiny waviness of it reminding him so much of Yoo Joonghyuk that it jarred him from his thoughts and he responded, “I don’t try to come here on purpose.  It’s just a thing that seems to keep happening.”

 

Biyoo hummed.  “You’re acting like a chick returning to the warmth of its mother.  Unconsciously seeking out the familiar.”  Almost distractedly she murmured, “It’s like those senile geezers hadn’t cut the tether properly…”

 

He fought to suppress the instinctual alarm that spread through him at those words.  Panic would only be a detriment if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. 

 

However like most things in a dream, events were far beyond his conscious control, as the mist and darkness collided into him, and he found himself falling backwards into —

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

There was a weight on Kim Dokja’s chest and a fogginess clouding his mind that he couldn’t quite clear.  Even as he fought through the last remnants of the dream, he tried to recall the things he had seen, the things he had heard.  However the closer he was to the surface of his consciousness, the less he remembered.  And as his mind returned to his body, there were only the vestiges of it clinging to him, escaping from him like smoke the more he became aware of his own body.

 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking up at a familiar ceiling.  The bedroll and straw floor beneath his back were also familiar in the way that nostalgia was unforgettable and he found himself instinctively wrapping his arms around the bundle that curled on top of him.

 

Kim Dokja watched the rise and fall of Biyoo’s back.  The gentle puffs of her breath brushed against his arm.  He was aware of the emptiness of the rest of the bed — the first time in a long time where he woke up without the weighty warmth of one of his Alphas next to him.

 

Absently, he thought of how it had also been a long time since he had awoken with the feel of skin-warmed metal encircling his wrist, and he tried to recall when the last time was that he had needed the handcuff to sleep…

 

Come to think of it, how had Biyoo ended up lying on top of him?  

 

「…」 

 

「Did Yoo Joonghyuk put Biyoo there like a toddler paper weight?」 

 

Kim Dokja puffed out a quiet breath.  He didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated as he noted that, this time, Yoo Joonghyuk had recovered before Kim Dokja.  

 

They had passed through the [Wall] a second time to get here.  Conveniently, they fell into Yoo Hoseong’s living room when the [Wall] had forced them out of the [Nexus] into the real world.

 

But not before the [Wall] had almost cryptically told him to 〚“Fulfill his purpose”〛.  

 

And, as much as he wanted to deny it, Kim Dokja had noticed that in repairing the [Stories] of the Trees — which had once been a foundational component sewn into the fabric of their reality — it seemed to have started the mending of something that had once been broken.  

 

Although it was an incongruity that he wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the unidentifiable feeling that started to beat steadily in his chest.  A feeling that reminded him of… It was like… Like hearing the same melody over and over and over again, until one day a single note was changed.  Even though it was only a single note, the change rippled throughout the pattern of the melody, creating a demarcation, a distinct “before” and “after” — where before the melody had simply carried him through life, he never knew how hollow he really was until after the melody had changed.

 

Yet he didn’t know for sure if the change was for better or for worse.

 

A thread of worry wriggled through him, but it was quickly burned out by the shot of reassurance that floated through the bond, lighting a spark in him that made him want to hunt down his Alphas.

 

As gently as he could, he tucked Biyoo in, moving the bedding around until he was satisfied with the nest of blankets, before he climbed out of bed.  

 

Like the last time they had passed through the [Wall], Kim Dokja only remembered seeing a glimpse of Yoo Hoseong before blacking out, so he assumed that his friend had moved them into the room he had once stayed in all those years ago.

 

Where it had once been a simple yet sparse room on the very first day he had stayed here, over the years the shelves had been slowly filled with small memorabilia during the time he had spent in the Dark Fault.  

 

And it looked as if nothing had changed since the last day he had left.

 

Nostalgia drew him over to the low dresser, the top still scattered with random objects — like the bottled glass beads that he had collected from a broken bracelet that was once used to enhance a person’s “mana” — or the plain-looking gray pebble that he had picked up from a field where it was said that a battle between ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ had once taken place.

 

Without hesitation, Kim Dokja picked up the pebble — a familiar [Story] seamlessly seeping into his skin, like being welcomed by an old friend — and he quietly made his way out of the room, walking down the long hallway that opened up into a cozy living room.  He would have kept walking right out into the grass yard beyond the back porch of the house, if he hadn’t been stopped in his tracks by the person that was tucked into the window nook, gazing out at the fields beyond the boundaries of the property.

 

「Kyrgios Rodgraim.」

 

Kim Dokja’s Master was waiting for him, it seemed.

Notes:

Thank you, dear Reader-nims, for your continued patience. This work is a passion project , and unfortunately it sometimes needs to take a backseat to real life. I am also writing a chunk of chapters at once before posting due to the plot becoming a bit more complex than just free form writing and I don't want to make it too confusing or contradict settings of the story.
Still, I truly and deeply appreciate all you Reader-nims for hanging on here. And I cannot express enough with words how much it means to see there are Readers that are reading this work.
Thank you.

Chapter 47: The Fault, Part 2

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

In the Dark Fault, the free-floating probability drifted aimlessly, solidifying into fickle [Words] that would take decades to string together into a single [Sentence], then take centuries more to transform into a story, and it was only after eons of mundane repetition, that a story became a single [Story].

 

Yet, the moment Kim Dokja had stepped foot into the bounds of the Dark Fault all those years ago, probability clung to him like a second skin, [Words] took shape within the space of a single breath, and [Sentences] became [Stories] as if they had always been there just waiting to be noticed.

 

Granted, the [Stories] were usually temporary things, and Kim Dokja had to pour a lot of his own efforts into keeping the individual [Words] connected.

 

《Because everything in the Dark Fault was innately and inevitably subjected to the test of time.》

 

So like with most temporary things, many of the [Stories] that had quickly formed had also scattered apart just as quickly when Kim Dokja had not given them enough time and attention.

 

And with every [Story] that shattered, Kim Dokja’s young heart had cracked just a little more.

 

《Fissures and fault lines carving themselves into its golden surface.》

 

It had taken time for Kim Dokja to understand that some things left just as easily as they came, without leaving behind any signs of ever existing in the first place.  

 

However it had not taken much longer for him to wonder where the fragments went after the [Stories] had disappeared.  

 

〈Because were they really forgotten if he still remembered them?〉

 

It had been the beginning of an itch that Kim Dokja couldn’t ignore, growing into a wanderlust so large that it made the words of warning from Yoo Hoseung, his Master, and even Minyoung-ah, seem so small in comparison.

 

Until one day he couldn’t resist the pull any longer, and he ventured into the Dark Fault further than had ever been explored.  

 

《And he gazed into the Abyss with eyes unscathed.》

 

However the Abyss had gazed back at Kim Dokja with an unfathomable familiarity that had both comforted and scared him.

 

〈Like he had been visiting an old friend.〉

 

《Like it hadn’t been the first time.》

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Kim Dokja reflexively clutched the pebble tighter before tucking it into his pocket.  He was no stranger to the feeling of resignation that relaxed his tense muscles, already used to accepting the consequences of his actions. 

 

However, before he could move to speak—

 

“Has my wayward Disciple found the answer he was looking for?”

 

The sound of his Master’s voice made Kim Dokja pause.  

 

It had been much too long since he had heard the cool, calm tones directed at him, stirring up memories that fluttered like the dry pages of a book flipping through chapter after chapter.  Yet there was a distinctly pointed affection hidden between the harsh strokes of each [Word] — a comfort that Kim Dokja had once grasped onto like a lifeline when he was still fighting the undertow of his [True Story] all those years ago.

 

For it was his Master that had helped to keep young Kim Dokja’s [Sentences] from being swept up in the fast flowing currents that permeated the Dark Fault.  

 

And his Master had helped to anchor Kim Dokja to a single point as he struggled to learn what would come to be known as [Story Control] alongside Yoo Hoseong.

 

Even after gruffly rebuking Kim Dokja for his young and foolish antics, his Master would still comfort him every time a fledgling [Story] fractured.  

 

Kim Dokja inhaled sharply, taking a moment to center himself, before he reeled himself back to the present.  He had to remember that he had been through much more since then, had discovered a [Story] that maybe—

 

「…」

 

He thought.

 

Maybe his Master would actually understand what it is that Kim Dokja was trying to make sense of.  Just… maybe…

 

Kim Dokja murmured, “From the smallest point, the universe begins.”

 

His Master snorted and Kim Dokja could feel the movement of the air around him, [Words] starting to swirl as if caught in a vortex, potential energy prickling along the surface of his skin.

 

“Master…”

 

Kim Dokja didn’t understand what made him hesitate in asking the question that burned the tip of his tongue — whether it was uncertainty or fear of the answer or even fear of allowing the [Words] to take form — but then his Master grunted impatiently and he found that was all he needed to overcome the momentary hurdle.

 

”Master, do you happen to know when ‘my universe’ began?”

 

His Master spun away from the window and appeared in front of him quickly, almost as if he had teleported.  His Master’s eyes rapidly moved, searching Kim Dokja’s gaze for something —

 

“You went beyond the [Wall], didn’t you.”

 

A statement, not a question.  

 

“What did you see there?”

 

〈Had his Master already asked him this question before?〉

 

Pain lanced behind Kim Dokja’s eyes making him wince, even as he replied, ”The Universe.”

 

His Master nodded as if he had already expected the answer.  “How big was it?”

 

〈Yes, his Master had asked him the same thing before, and he had answered these questions before…but…it wasn’t during this life —〉

 

The pain in Kim Dokja’s head seemed to intensify with every beat of his heart.

 

《The pain seemed to echo with every [Word] that slipped past his lips.》

 

”It was vast and boundless and infinite.”

 

“And how small were you?”

 

〈Come to think of it, his Master had always seemed a bit… peculiar, hadn’t he?  In the same way most of the denizens that lived in the Dark Fault seemed… peculiar…〉

 

”As small as a speck of dust.”

 

Bright sparks seemed to explode around Kim Dokja as he continued to speak—

 

《Reflective of the small explosions that seemed to be going off in Kim Dokja’s mind, as barriers began to crack — as a hole the size of a needle point was punched through a wall that seemed to stretch across eternity — and the [Words] and [Sentences] and [Paragraphs] of a familiar yet new [Story] started to seep through.》

 

Kim Dokja squinted through the pain, ignoring it completely because he could feel that intangible thing was just there , within his reach, if he just pressed forward a little more.

 

His Master’s eyes were shaking.  “In the end, we are all just specks of dust from the perspective of the universe.  The smaller the dust speck, the closer it is to the origin of the universe.”

 

Even through the pain, a chill began to creep down Kim Dokja’s spine, and he [Read] the next [Words] that formed in the air between them even before his Master spoke.

 

〔“However, that does not mean that one dust is the same as another.”〕

 

His Master’s gaze softened.  “My idiot Disciple, this wasn’t the first time you ventured beyond the [Wall].”

 

《— in this life.》

 

“And it wasn’t the first time you gazed out into the universe.”

 

《— in this life.》

 

Bile burned the back of Kim Dokja’s throat as the world around him started to take on a surreal quality.  He began to grow dizzy, as if he were in two places at once, a sense of Deja vu washing over him in a wave so strong that the floor was tilting beneath his feet, throwing him off balance.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of gold and he instinctively raised his hand to see Ancient characters flowing like a river beneath the surface of his skin —

 

《Thousands of stories from everywhere and nowhere — recorded and unrecorded — beginning and ending in the same place, beginning and ending at the same time —》

 

And he would have chased those [Stories], spiraled further and further, wrapping himself in the dreamscape, drifting like stardust in the expanse of the universe.

 

But then. 

 

He felt a tug in his chest that grounded him, that brought him back to this reality, and without much thought he turned to move in the direction of the pull.  

 

There was a muffled echo of his Master calling out to him, as if Kim Dokja were hearing it while underwater, and even though he knew that he should turn back to address his Master, the pull in his chest grew more and more insistent with every heart beat, moving him forward with a singular focus.

 

He found himself standing at the edge of the back porch, staring at the silhouettes of approaching figures.  The corner of his mind that was still aware recognized them while the other parts of himself recognized their [Stories].

 

And as he watched Minyeong-ah carrying his Alpha over her shoulder, the sounds around him faded.  Like a scene from a movie he had watched more than a thousand times over, Minyeong-ah unceremoniously slid Yoo Joonghyuk off her shoulder and flopped him on his back, directly landing at Kim Dokja’s feet.  

 

Unreality gripped Kim Dokja as he stared down at Yoo Joonghyuk and Yoo Joonghyuk stared up at him.

 

《 — and he knew that it had been another hard training session that had left Yoo Joonghyuk too exhausted to move, so he would just lie there and gaze up with eyes that seemed to say —》

 

Kim Dokja watched as Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth moved, forming [Words] he both heard and [Read] with a sharpened focus.

 

〔”Kim Dokja.”〕

 

And Kim Dokja found himself responding automatically.

 

《 — as if by rote, as if it was the most natural response in the world —》

 

〔“Yoo Joonghyuk.”〕

 

And it was as if…

 

「…as if…」

 

《They greeted each other this way more than a hundred times before, saying so much with so little, the meaning already understood without actually saying more words than were needed.》

 

〈[Words] unbidden started forming in the air, the clearest most coherent [Sentence] Kim Dokja had ever [Read] —〉

 

〔A look was exchanged between Minyeong-ah and Master Kyrgios.〕

 

Even though Kim Dokja hadn’t been looking directly at them, his focus still completely on his Alpha, the [Sentence] still floated past him, extraneous information that wouldn’t have bothered him if it weren’t for the almost omniscient-like clarity and coherence —

 

〚“…senile geezers didn’t cut the tether properly…”〛

 

”Da-aat!”

 

Kim Dokja’s senses returned in a rush, sucking him back into his physical body so quickly that darkness swallowed up everything around him.

Notes:

Thank you Dear Reader-nims for your gracious patience. The next few chapters are being group written before releasing due to the much more involved lore that I'm having a hard time not tripping over...
Still, thank you for continuing to read this work.

Chapter 48: The Fault, Part 3

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t remember the last time he had broken past his training fatigue so quickly, his body in motion before any real thought had passed through his mind, rushing forward to catch an unconscious Kim Dokja.  

 

However.

 

The moment they touched, sparks of probability bit and seared Yoo Joonghyuk wherever they touched.  The Ancient text flowing beneath the surface of Kim Dokja’s skin seemed to stutter, the streams of characters splitting apart and forming menacing shapes.  And although Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes burned while looking at the Ancient language, the meaning still reached the most primal core of him — protect, devour, destroy, create .  

 

Still he didn’t have time to make sense of any of it, only gritting his teeth as the sparks ate at him, stubbornly holding his Omega close as he moved them back to the room they had woken up, his Alpha instincts driving him to hole-up with his Omega someplace where he could shield them.

 

He barely noticed shifting the bedroll and bedding into a corner of the room, cradling Kim Dokja close to him like he had done so many times already.  He barely noticed as [41] and [2] splintered from him, helping him to pull the sheets and pillows close, surrounding them with familiar scents.

 

《Because that’s what they needed.  As long as the Omega feels safe, then it would be okay.》

 

Except this time Kim Dokja wasn’t responding .  

 

Even in sleep, Kim Dokja tended to reach out for his Alphas, instinctually tucking into that hollow between Yoo Joonghyuk’s chin and shoulder, murmuring against bare skin—

 

Yoo Joonghyuk frantically reached for the bond as he pressed his ear against Kim Dokja’s chest.

 

And his heart dropped into the dark abyss of his stomach.  Ice started to settle in his core as familiar dread and despair seized his throat, and he was quickly reminded of the dream he had when he first entered the [Nexus].

 

Because where the bond should have been was an endless chasm, a great divide that seemed impossible to cross.

 

Like a rift cutting across a sparkling sky.

 

《A starless fault erasing everything in between.》

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Yoo Mia had been struggling for nearly a year in the Dark Fault.  

 

She knew that she had stunted her own growth by denying the most fundamental parts of herself for much longer than that.  But the recognition of such a fact only made the frustration — the anger towards herself burn much hotter.

 

A fact that Master Hoseong kept reminding her to control.  

 

Which was the reason why her clothes were soaking wet as they were returning to Master’s house from the waterfall.  

 

‘Mia, you carry too much fire’, her Master had assessed.

 

’The only way is to balance it with water’, her Master had prescribed. 

 

So, over the past month, she did not expect that her lessons would entail trying to gain a firmer grasp on her [Story Control] while sitting beneath a waterfall .  The waterfall was not gentle.  The water was not warm.  She struggled to focus past the pounding water on her head while she tried to ignore the cold that sank into her bones.

 

Yet, even after so many days sitting beneath that waterfall, she was still having trouble with grasping anything past the basics of [Story Control].

 

Although it didn’t mean that her time here was spent in vain since she had at least learned the basics.  

 

But there was just something there that she was still having a difficult time getting past.

 

〈She tried not to think too hard about how she was still missing an important part of the story — how Kim Dokja had promised he would help, yet still had not shown up to provide said help and it had been making her feel…somewhat… disappointed .〉

 

Another aspect that didn’t help to quell her frustration was the fact that because she had at least grasped the basics of [Story Control], her own [Story] had become more coherent, nagging at her incessantly about this and that.  A situation that only became worse whenever she sat beneath the waterfall where she was forced to focus within herself and listen to every [Word] her [Story] spoke.

 

Grudgingly, Yoo Mia could admit that the training did sharpen her senses and made her more aware and attuned to listening to what her [Story] had to say, even to the point where she could feel it, if not hear it, even when she wasn’t focusing internally.  

 

So today it was strange that, as she walked back with her Master, accompanied by [777] and [888], her [Story] was strangely quiet.  It didn’t feel absent like it suddenly went dormant, yet it didn’t feel as attentive to Yoo Mia as it usually was.

 

Even when she nudged it a bit, her [Story] seemed to shrug off her prodding, its attention focused somewhere else, and it begged the question.

 

”Can a [Story] be aware of things that I’m not aware of?”

 

Her Master hummed in thought.  “[Stories] aren’t usually ‘aware’ of things the way you and I are aware of things.”

 

Without missing a step, Master Hoseong swiped a twig up from the ground and waved it in front of her eyes.  

 

“What is this?”

 

Yoo Mia thought.  She didn’t think it was a trick question, yet even [777] and [888] — who would have usually piped up with sarcasm or a smart retort to such a question that seemed to have an obvious answer — were quiet.  

 

Of course, Yoo Mia knew they would be used to these types of questions, seeing as the Master of their Master was now her Master —

 

「…」

 

Her [Story] would have also provided something that felt like an answer, yet its awareness still seemed focused on a distant thing.

 

So she answered plainly.  “A twig.”

 

Her Master nodded, then pointed to his hand.  “And this?”

 

“Left hand.”

 

Her Master nodded again.  “How are these things related?”

 

Yoo Mia fidgeted with the edge of her wet shirt.  “I…”

 

Was it meant to be a trick question?  Was it really as simple as stating what she saw?

 

”…Left hand holding a twig…?”

 

Her own doubt made her statement sound like a question, and she looked to her Master, seeking some sign of confirmation.

 

Her Master narrowed his eyes.  “Have you been spending too much time with Jihye?”

 

Not recently, she wanted to say, since it had been some time since she entered the Dark Fault.  However it seemed the question was rhetorical, since her Master merely studied her expression, before his eyes flicked behind them.

 

”My Disciple’s Disciple, what say you?”

 

For a moment, Yoo Mia only heard the sounds of their feet shuffling along the dirt road.

 

[777] answered, ”Teacher’s Master picked up a twig.” 

 

[888] replied, ”A twig was chosen by Teacher’s Master.”  

 

Yoo Mia caught the glance shared between her two brothers.  It was only because she knew her brothers the best that she could tell they were somewhat shocked that their answers weren’t the same.  Because, where they would usually be able to finish each other’s thoughts, in this instance they had completely different perspectives.

 

It made her bold enough to question, “So which is the right answer?”

 

With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, her Master threw the twig like a dart, and she watched as it planted itself into the bark of a tree as if it was meant to be there from the beginning.  

 

“There is no right answer.  There is only the story.”

 

But Yoo Mia still felt as if there was an answer but it was just out of her reach, if only she could find the words to properly form the thought that seemed to be floating through her mind.  

 

And still her own [Story] was distantly preoccupied.  

 

The struggle must have been apparent by her blank expression, as Yoo Hoseong glanced at her briefly before pointing at her.  “You only saw the left hand and the twig.”

 

Her Master pointed back at her brothers.  “One saw the perspective of the action that led to my left hand holding the twig.  The other saw the motivation that led to my left hand holding the twig.”

 

Her Master grasped the air in his fist.  “All these things describe the same thing, yet they are all completely different stories.  Even seeing the twig and the hand together, there is no ‘correct’ relationship between the two.  It is awkward and clunky.  The story bridges the gap.  But only if you truly understand the story.”

 

The answer was just there .  Yoo Mia knew it was just there .

 

Her Master studied her expression as they walked alongside one another.  Then he asked, “Two people had stood in the same place and looked up at the same sky.  One person tells you the sky is blue.  The other person tells you the sky is red.  Both are correct from their story’s perspective.  Why is this?”

 

Yoo Mia stared ahead, noticing that they were nearing the edge of the tree line — 

 

And she had the most irrational thought that if she didn’t find the answer she was looking for before they reached that boundary of trees, she would lose her chance at understanding this one thing forever.

 

What was it?  Why was it so elusive that she was unable to grasp it?

 

Then.

 

A memory floated up from the depths of her mind.  

 

《There was a pond.》

 

Yoo Mia swallowed roughly.

 

《There were homemade dumplings that filled her with a warmth that soothed the edges of her self-hatred, a moment of respite.》

 

Something had definitely gotten in her eye because her vision was starting to get blurry and she had to blink quickly to clear it.

 

《Two people had sat in the same place and looked up at the same sky.》

 

Yoo Mia inhaled so quickly that she nearly choked, and croaked out, “Time.”

 

She remembered the words Kim Dokja had gifted her that day, as the sky changed from blue to red.

 

She looked back and found her Master watching her.  ”One described what the sky looked like at noon, the other described what the sky looked like at dusk.”

 

”Or dawn.”  Master Hoseong’s mouth curled up at the edges.  “Depends on the [Storyteller].  Depends on the context of the [Story].”

 

And like with most things where her Master was bestowing his wisdom upon her, she arrived at the answer to her original question.  

 

With the confidence that only youth could provide, she stated, “If the [Storytellers] are different, then the [Stories] could be different, even if the [Storytellers] saw the same thing.”  

 

“A [Story] is only aware of the things within the context of the [Storyteller].”

 

It was the first time Yoo Mia had seen her Master with such a wide smile, but then his expression faltered.  “That is true for most of us.  However, I have seen at least one exception.”

 

Yoo Mia winced as her [Story] tugged at her sharply and there was a sense of urgency that came with the call for attention.  

 

She wouldn’t be able to rationally or even logically explain why she thought so, but there seemed to be a strange duality within her reality — like information streaming together, probability collecting and organizing from chaos, filtering down into a shared intuition that she and her Master were following the same wavelength as they both muttered.

 

”Kim Dokja.”

 

《A single name spoken into reality.》

 

It was as if all of the sleeping [Stories] that were floating around them seemed to awaken, softly echoing the name of a single [Reader] with such reverence — with such love — that even Yoo Mia felt a quiet yearning in her soul for when her own [Story] would feel the same way about her.  

 

But then.

 

The soothing tones began to change, becoming more discordant and disharmonious, growing in strength and volume that it started to grate at Yoo Mia’s senses.  Even her own [Story] was filling her awareness, telling her to hurry.

 

《Begging her to help.》

 

But this could only mean—

 

Her Master was already moving towards the house, and Yoo Mia, [777], and [888] weren’t far behind.

Chapter 49: The Fault, Part 4

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

Biyoo knew what she had to do.  It was just… that…

 

Would she still be human enough to be called their child? 

 

Would she still be able to call them her parents without them flinching away from her?

 

Would they look at her with strange eyes because it wasn’t normal to skip all those years of childhood and resemble an adult in the blink of an eye?

 

〈To have an understanding of the world around them that was so different from their own world view.〉

 

「…」

 

Would that mean she was a bit like Kim Dokja?

 

「Because her Father always saw the world a bit differently, too, right?」

 

Still, the self-doubt was persistent, so much so that she had been putting off her rapid growth ever since she had stepped foot into the Dark Fault — ever since she had established her connection to the Dreamer-God that slumbered in the core of their world, a direct path to all of the secrets and ancient history.

 

《History that had been purposefully forgotten in order to save the [Reader] who had sacrificed himself.》

 

Yet, no matter how much knowledge she gained, it didn’t make up for the overwhelming uncertainty.  The fear of rejection, the regret of being unable to experience first-hand what it was like to be a human child without the weight of the world interfering with everything. 

 

Biyoo had just wanted to enjoy being a child a little longer. 

 

But, in exchange, it was her Father that had to carry the load.

 

And it was crushing him, the pressure of it seeming to unravel his [Story].  

 

A seed of resentment towards the Bureau had already burrowed inside her heart — if they had taken care of Kim Dokja’s connection to their world properly , if they had explained things to Kim Dokja before it had gotten to this point, if they had just given him the artifact — her blunted nails were digging into the thin skin of her palms.

 

Those old fools.  The throne had been left vacant for much too long, it seemed.

 

Biyoo’s chest felt stuffy as she looked at her Father, lying motionless in Joonghyuk-appa’s arms.  [41]-appa was leaning down, his ear plastered to Kim Dokja’s chest, while [2]-appa sat anxiously near them, holding one of Kim Dokja’s hands tightly in his grasp.

 

Their expressions bordered on the edge of worry and devastation, all of their [Stories] swirling chaotically around them.  She could see the [Words] and [Sentences] tangling into snarled knots, trying to cross together tight enough to protect all they wished to protect.  

 

Still, the over-eager [Ancient Story] that was engraved in Kim Dokja’s skin was cutting through the lines of [Sentences] too rapidly, forming plot-holes in between the lines of Yoo Joonghyuk’s [Story] —

 

「Wait.」

 

Had those plot-holes been there already?

 

Biyoo tried to follow the narrative of her Appa’s [Story] — her chest filled with sorrow that teetered on the edge of heartbreak at what she [Read].  However the feeling was quickly replaced by a growing spark of wrath fueled by a sense of injustice of her Appa being used in such a way— and yet— !  

 

… 

 

And yet… 

 

《Kim Dokja wouldn’t have survived without it.  And she would have never been born.》

 

She took a breath.  Then another.       

 

「Everyone had to grow up sometime.」  

 

It seemed she had to grow up sooner than she would have liked.  

 

Her Father needed her.  Her Appas needed her.

 

And Biyoo would never abandon them.  

 

After all, her Father hadn’t abandoned her to the labyrinth of the world either, drifting through all of those centuries accompanying her, choosing instead to give her a chance at life.

 

〈Even if it meant his death.〉

 

Biyoo would forever be grateful to her predecessor for not allowing such an ending to come to pass.  

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  

 

Time seemed to slow.  The hand of a clock ticked over, the clank of gears grinding probability down into dust, particles flowing in a single direction, funneling into the tiniest point compared to the vastness of the universe.

 

Air filled her lungs, flowed in more and more and more — much more than she should have needed.  It should have been pushing her physical capacity.  But that was assuming she was still the size of a toddler.  

 

Sparks burst and danced over her skin.  Biyoo felt her physical boundaries expand.  There was pain in her skull as horns sprouted, bone growing lightning-quick, pushing through unbroken skin in rapid progression.  The ends of her hair brushed past her neck, past her shoulders.

 

When she opened her eyes, her viewpoint had changed, slightly shorter than Yoo Mia’s height — but still no longer a toddler.   

 

She braced herself as she looked on, meeting her parents’ gazes directly, preparing for the sting of rejection—

 

Biyoo sank her fangs into her lips to keep them from trembling.  

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

As they practically teleported through the house, Yoo Mia nearly ran into her Master’s back as he stopped abruptly and she had to quickly sidestep into the room in order to avoid colliding with him.  

 

Offhandedly she noted it was the room that she had been explicitly forbidden to enter.  At the time she hadn’t cared to question it.  But as she grew more comfortable in this place, she had started to become curious and had only questioned her Master about it once.  His answer had been simple enough, telling her that it was Kim Dokja’s, and she could understand the territorial nature of Omegas since she was one herself.

 

However.

 

She now suspected there was a different reason entirely that she was told to keep out of this room.

 

She felt her own [Story] start to push forward, filling her vision, until the room nearly became sepia-toned with the amount of free-roaming probability that saturated the space like shiny dust clouds.  

 

Still, she couldn’t let it distract her for long when she spotted her Oppas huddled in a corner around an unmoving form.

 

A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach and she only hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.

 

There was Joonghyuk-oppa cradling a very still Kim Dokja.  [2]-oppa and [41]-oppa were there, too, whispering something that she couldn’t quite focus on since she was stuck on Joonghyuk-oppa’s face.

 

Yoo Mia had never seen that expression on Oppa's face before.  She knew she hadn’t and yet the raw despair and grief marring his features seemed somehow… familiar ….

 

She shook her head once, shaking the thought loose.  She couldn’t get caught up in the devastation that swirled around her brothers, a presence so heavy that even [777] and [888] remained quiet while studying the scene.  

 

Master Kyrgios paced back and forth some distance away in front of Master Minyoung, who sat cross-legged with smoke curling around her head from her pipe.  Both wore intense expressions, although Master Kyrgios seemed more anxious, as if waiting for something to happen.

 

Yoo Mia stepped closer with a confidence that she didn’t really feel — because throughout her entire life, her Oppas had been her rock, unshakable and steadfast — and because here, now, was the first time she had seen them so shaken . 

 

Maybe, this one time, she could be their anchor in troubled waters.

 

Possibly, it was a little bit for Kim Dokja, too — the one person who had reached out his hand to her despite her slapping it away so stubbornly.  

 

〈The one person who might understand her perspective better than she ever could.〉  

 

Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides as she searched for what to say, what to ask.

 

If only it hadn’t been for the shock of seeing the other girl that looked to be slightly younger than Yoo Mia, who approached her Oppas — a ball of shining, near-incandescent probability that glowed in her [Story]-laced vision — Yoo Mia probably would have thought about her words a little longer.

 

“Who the fu—mmph”

 

Her own [Story] had risen up and stilled her tongue.  It was good that she had already grown used to this type of ‘communication’ between herself and her [Story], or else she would have begun to panic, like she had the first time this happened.  Unfortunately, it happened in moments where she let her guard down, and it was just another obstacle in her efforts to properly maintain [Story Control].  

 

Still, she couldn’t help but worry as the girl drew closer to her Oppas.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

Biyoo couldn’t quite read her Appas’ expressions, still unfamiliar with many things to do with this world, still unfamiliar with the human condition and what it all meant.

 

From watching all of the interactions between her parents, and [Reading] all of the [Words] that flittered between them, she knew that the expression that her Appas’ usually made when looking at Kim Dokja reminded her of… it was something like… someone who finally found water after dying of thirst in an endless desert.

 

《Someone who finally found their salvation .》

 

However, the way her Appas were looking at her now… this was different from that.   

 

And yet.

 

If she had to take a guess, had to put a word to describe it, she would have gone with something close to ‘ hope ’.

 

She would be lying if she said she couldn’t feel the weight of their gazes.  

 

But it was a burden she was willing to carry.  

 

Because in the same way Biyoo had been waiting for Kim Dokja, Kim Dokja had been waiting for her.  

 

And Yoo Joonghyuk — with all of his fragments — had sacrificed so much to protect all he needed to protect.

 

Wordlessly, she knelt beside her Father and took his empty hand.  At first, the [Ancient Story] that crawled beneath her Father’s skin bit and tore at her, sparks crackling then scattering into the air.  But it only made her hold on tighter.  

 

Sweat broke out across her forehead as she tried to focus, tried to push past the [Sentences] that streamed like a fast flowing river, an obstacle meant to trip up the inexperienced.  But Biyoo had been devouring stories like this since the beginning of her existence, and she easily swept past the current, diving deeper into the darker waters, trying to dig further beneath the surface to try and reach the core of her Father—

 

No wonder Kim Dokja was in such a state!  The [True Story] was clashing with the [Original Story] — certain themes from the [True Story] that were tacked-in haphazardly not quite meshing with the contents of the [Original Story] — so of course it all led to this completely tangled mess!  This was the worst application of Disconnected Film theory she had ever seen!!  

 

Biyoo was beyond exasperated with how poorly the old fools at the Bureau had handled her Father’s awakening.  She could understand that they may have been excited that it was finally time for her to emerge, but that didn’t mean that they were allowed to be so careless with Kim Dokja.

 

Her jaw clenched.  In order to untangle this snarl — in order to save her Father — they would need to take him to the Bureau.  

 

Biyoo gritted her teeth.

 

She would definitely be exchanging ‘words’ with those old, senile dokkaebis.  

 

She couldn’t wait a moment longer.

Chapter 50: The Bureau

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

It had only been a few months since he had been promoted to 〘Record Keeper〙 — a position in charge of guarding and maintaining the records of the Bureau.

 

And, usually, by this time of night, Bihyung would have left these halls to return to his apartment, leaving the lower-level dokkaebi to monitor the building for the graveyard shift.  

 

However.

 

There was something about tonight that had made him delay his departure — a sixth sense intuition, like a ripple that had brushed by him in passing, leaving a trace of premonition in his thoughts.

 

And it was just by chance that, as he was passing by a window overlooking the Bureau’s main entrance, he saw the entourage of people moving with serious intent towards the building.

 

「With a young-looking dokkaebi leading the way.」  

 

Foreboding bloomed in his heart as he quickly scanned over the faces.  So when Bihyung spotted Yoo Joonghyuk carrying an unconscious Kim Dokja in his arms in the middle of it all, his heart beat once with a heavy thump — like the starting gunshot, it was all he needed to spur him into action.

 

Bihyung ran through the halls of the Bureau as fast as he could, silently cursing the anti-probability protocols restricting the use of spatial movement within the building.  He turned a corner too quickly and nearly slid along the polished floors.  He caught himself against the wall at the last second, pushing off and sprinting as quickly as he could to get to his destination.

 

It was convenient that Bihyung had been appointed as the 〘Record Keeper〙.  Without the position assignment, he would have likely never known about this particular room, would have never received the ring of [Weltanschauung Keys] as part of his duties — [Keys] that only existed within the boundaries of the Bureau, specially designed for the purpose of unlocking its assigned room.  

 

The [Keys] were a critical necessity.  Some rooms of the Bureau were especially fickle, never staying in the same place for long — dependent on the whims of the [Story] that the room belonged to.  These rooms could only be found if the person wielded the specific [Key] and was able to [Read] the [Story] laid out by that [Key].

 

It somewhat explained why the particular room Bihyung was rushing towards was the Bureau's most obscure “room”, hidden in a neglected corridor in the basement.  

 

『〔The room where all of the relics from various ∎∎∎∎ are displayed there.  From artifacts to ∎∎∎∎’s main rewards, and even ∎ Relics from the ∎∎ that had lost their powers.  The one room that wasn’t under the influence of any single worldview.〕』

 

Bihyung knew that, at one time, the name of this particular room would have inspired both reverence and warning, a tale of caution that contained the turbulent history of the world.  

 

However.

 

Now, the name engraved on the door was enough of a deterrent to any passing glance, meant to be boring and relatively uninteresting when compared to all of the other [Stories] that inhabited the Bureau.  

 

《Like all other things, the meaning behind the [Story] had changed over time.》

 

It didn’t take much longer to reach the door he had been looking for.

 

〔Prop Storage〕

 

A space long forgotten.

 

And yet.

 

It kept safe all of the artifacts and relics of their past.

 

「But if it was so important, why wasn’t it mentioned before?」

 

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While he was sorting through old files in the bowels of the Bureau’s records room, it had just been an innocuous paragraph he had found on a “Singularity Report” about one “Yoo Joonghyuk”.  Granted, it was a paragraph that was heavily redacted, yet it must have been important enough to be recorded nonetheless.

 

To be fair, if he hadn’t known that Yoo Joonghyuk was entangled with Kim Dokja, Bihyung would have likely overlooked it, following the records and status quo of the Bureau just as blindly as the rest of the dokkaebi.

 

But.

 

《It had made him curious.》

 

Curious enough to hunt down the report that the Bureau should have had on one “Kim Dokja”.

 

So, in the same way Bihyung knew that there was something inexplicably not right about their world, he knew that the recorded history of “Kim Dokja” was egregiously incomplete.

 

Similarly, the records of various other Constellations and Incarnations were also either illogically long or were made up of multiple files…

 

「...」

 

He couldn’t understand why — or even how the records had become so erroneous.

 

Even his predecessor, Great Dokkaebi Baram, should have discovered these inconsistencies.  

 

But, like the reasonable dokkaebi that Bihyung was, instead of making up his own conclusions, he decided to ask his predecessor directly.

 

He remembered the cold yet melancholic look Great Dokkaebi Baram had given him as he intoned.

 

「”The history of the Bureau is long.  However, compared to the history of the universe, it is only a speck of dust.  In this way, the Bureau’s records will always be incomplete.  And, in a different way, the records can never be wrong.”」 

 

《Because only what is recorded is remembered, while everything left unrecorded is forgotten.》

 

「”Who is to say that the [Readers] of a [Single Story] will think the same as the [Author]?  And what of the original [Storyteller]?  When the span of the [Story] is looked at through a wider lens of time — beyond its beginning and beyond its ending… Who is to say that the interpretation was right or wrong?”」  

 

《Because regardless of what might seem wrong or unjust at the moment, given an infinite amount of time, depending on the lens it is viewed through, the end can eventually justify the means.》

 

「”The records only contain information recorded by the [Storyteller].  It is up to the [Reader] to fill in the things that are missing.  In this way, it is also the [Reader] who interprets the [Story].”」

 

“Interpretation of the [Story]”. 

 

A single event could branch into many different versions.

 

Therefore, depending on the [Reader], it did not necessarily mean that those other versions are incorrect.

 

However. 

 

It indicated that there was a certain degree of judgment as to what parts were important to the [Story] and what parts were thrown away.

 

So if the [Storyteller] was already biased…

 

「Stop.」

 

Bihyung didn’t want to think like this, not until he had more clarity on the situation.

 

⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜⇜↭⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝⇝

 

For now, he would help to the best of his ability.   

 

Because he already knew exactly what he needed to get.  

 

The door opened easily, as if already expecting his arrival.  From the moment he rushed in, he was greeted by rows upon rows of shelves filled with boxes and containers and oddly-shaped things that did not fit in boxes or containers.  

 

Frantically, Bihyung scanned the category labels as fast as he could, nearly tripping over his own feet when he quickly turned down an aisle to find the one artifact he was looking for.  He teetered on the edge of panic when he couldn’t find the specific relic, the end of the aisle approaching faster than he wanted it to, like seeing the edge of despair, the spark of hope about to be extinguished.

 

But then.

 

Bihyung grabbed the edge of the shelf, suddenly stopping his forward momentum.  He held his breath as his own disbelief caught up with him.  

 

It was really here.  

 

「It truly existed.」

 

Almost reverently, he reached out to gently lift the artifact and cradle it against his chest, taking a moment to process.  

 

If he were to truly believe the bits and fragments he had hoarded thus far in his dokkaebi life, then the inconsistencies and incongruities and misalignment of the pieces that formed the view of their world must have been purposeful — a part of a larger [Story] design that was orchestrated by the former Dokkaebi King —

 

《With Kim Dokja as its protagonist.》

 

Bihyung shook himself free from his spiraling thoughts.  This wasn’t the time to get caught up in the narrative.  He spun on his feet and ran out of the room to his ultimate destination.

 

Coincidentally, he didn’t have to go far, stopping in front of a set of sturdy-looking double doors.  They were made of dark marble, or maybe obsidian, veins of gold and silver running through its void-like surface.  The dim lighting from above casted shadows, both highlighting and obscuring the lines of an image that someone had painstakingly carved into the stone.  

 

However Bihyung didn’t have time to stare at it long enough to make out what it was.  He hurriedly pushed open the doors, stepping directly into a hallway of smaller doors, each spaced intermittently along both walls.  He hurriedly scanned the nameplates, trying to find the one he was looking for.

 

〔Papyrus〕

 

—

 

〔Hongik〕

 

—

 

〔Guardian Tree〕

 

—

 

…

 

He found himself nearing the end of the long hallway and he still hadn’t found the room he was looking for.  But before worry could take hold, he turned to the last door on the left —

 

〈Which had no nameplate.〉

 

Without further hesitation, he pushed into the room, only to hear the voice of Great Dokkaebi Barram.

 

“We were running out of time.  The ‘Nameless One’ had successfully integrated a new Incarnation during this cycle — nearly ninety percent compatibility.”  

 

Great Dokkaebi Barram sighed regrettably, “We couldn’t hold out any longer.”

 

At the sound of the door closing, Great Dokkaebi Barram turned, a look of censure on his face.  

 

But Bihyung was not looking at him.

 

Instead, his gaze was transfixed on the painting that leaned against the opposite wall, a white cloth hanging off the corner of the frame.  It depicted the back of a man looking out at scenery beyond a glass window.  

 

Even stranger was the black cat looking out at the same scenery, sitting on the window ledge, its delicate ears pointed forward and its long tail hanging down, slightly hooked at the tip.  

 

A sense of awe distracted him as realization dawned that this was the only known image of the former Dokkaebi King.  

 

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of incongruity, because, well… the cat was a little…out of place… wasn’t it?

 

Before his thoughts could spiral further into why it felt so off-putting, the relic in his hand jolted him forward, and he helplessly followed.  It pulled him further into the room until he stood next to a stasis pod set into a depression in the floor.

 

Without thinking too deeply, Bihyung reached out to tuck the artifact — a tarnished sword hilt — into Kim Dokja’s grasp, disregarding the shouts of protest and building chaos around him.

 

Chaos that was quickly silenced by the palpable stillness that instantly permeated the air around them.  

 

An inexplicable current arced through the fabric of their reality — a declaration, a demarcation of a ”before” and ”after“.  Before, it was as if their world had been compressed, their senses nearly stifled — after, it felt as if their dimension had suddenly expanded, space unfolding instantaneously.

 

《As if their very existence had opened up to infinite possibilities.》

 

Expectation held Bihyung in a chokehold, his stare intently focused on an unconscious Kim Dokja.  An eternity passed with every second that Kim Dokja did not open his eyes, the hope that had been fueling his forward momentum slowly turned into a heavy weight, sinking into the depths of anguish and despair.

 

This was an artifact that was specially connected to Kim Dokja.  Even if Kim Dokja himself did not remember all of his [Original Story] — even if the “film” had been disconnected — the artifact still had enough probability to repair the link between them, re-forging the bridge between Kim Dokja’s [True Story] and [Original Story] —

 

Which shouldn’t have been a problem if the Bureau had properly implemented Disconnected Film Theory, if they had integrated ‘Kim Dokja’ back into their reality with more care and importance — instead of treating him like a cannon fodder character they only needed for the sole task of birthing the new Dokkaebi King.

 

Anguish quickly turned to anger.  

 

For the first time since stepping into this room, Bihyung looked up —

 

His gaze clashing with Biyoo —

 

「The new Dokkaebi King.」

 

“The bond is still there, ah, Appa.  It’s just that the Abyss is wide and deep, and the connection is stretched a bit…thinly…”    

 

Even though Bihyung knew that these words were directed at [2] — an attempt by Biyoo to try to calm the manic aura of the war-torn Alpha — hearing them still rekindled a flicker of hope in his own heart.

 

If the bond between Alpha and Omega still existed…

 

〈Then Kim Dokja was not completely lost to them.〉

 

However in the next moment probability gathered, sparks streaming together, collecting into dense clouds.  

 

In the blank space above their heads, the sparks coalesced into words, taking shape slowly at first, then forming faster and faster.

 

[Calculating necessary probability.]

 

[Calculation complete.  Sufficient probability detected.]

 

[World reversion commencing.]

 

[World reversion in progress.  Please standby for reintegration.]

 

The last line of text hung quietly in the silent room. 

 

“‘World reversion’?”  Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was hoarse, the question reflecting what was in everyone else’s thoughts.

 

More silence followed.  Palpable apprehension and tension grew more suffocating with each second that passed.  Then, like a balloon popping, Biyoo spoke, her words lashing out coldly, like a superior demanding an explanation from her subordinate, her tone made even sharper when said with her childlike voice.

 

”Great Dokkaebi Baram.  I understand that the timing of my awakening was under less than ideal circumstances.  However you and I both know that the execution was sloppy.”

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram’s expression was resigned, like a soldier withstanding the backlash of consequences, fully aware of his own actions.  Yet, an air of conviction still lingered around him, as if the methods didn’t matter as long as the results were good.

 

Biyoo’s gaze was piercing as she continued.  “The history of this world… the calamity that weakened my predecessor to the point of no return…”

 

She huffed out a breath, frustration and understanding lacing her next words.  “I know that it was all meant to buy time for me, that it was crucial for a new Dokkaebi King — a stronger Dokkaebi King to take his place in order to protect the world…”

 

Her eyes turned to the unconscious Kim Dokja, her demeanor softened by affection and worry.  Strong emotions halted her words as she continued.  “…Did you know…all this time…no matter how many times the [Story] repeated…I wasn’t alone in the labyrinth.”

 

Her words confused everyone that heard them.

 

Everyone except for Great Dokkaebi Baram, whose complexion noticeably paled, his eyes widening in disbelief.

 

Biyoo didn’t miss his expression, her gaze once again directed at Great Dokkaebi Baram, and her lips twisted into a small smile — a smile that reminded Bihyung of Kim Dokja, a smile that could only be described as “unlucky”.  

 

“Tell them, Great Dokkaebi Baram.  It must be remembered in order to be understood.”

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram seemed to still be in shock, his expression frozen as if he was still trying to gather his thoughts — as if he had found a new piece of the story that shattered his foundation — so his tone was a bit listless when he began speaking.

 

《At the time he had started explaining, it was not yet known that all of their foundations would be shattered by the end of it.》

 

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The moment the artifacts had entered their reality, it was already too late.

 

Only the Dokkaebi King had really understood the impact the artifacts had on the human species at that time.  After all, it was due to the Dokkaebi King’s negligence — or was it naivete? — that the Wenny Man was allowed to unrestrainedly barter off the artifacts to unsuspecting laymen.

 

When the first few humans began to present as espers, it was viewed as progressive evolution for the human species, touted as a new level in the hierarchical structure of “survival of the fittest”.  

 

However, the consequence of such evolution only became apparent after a few generations of espers had come to pass.  

 

Although the artifacts weren’t sentient, they were pieces of [Stories] from other realities that were left unchecked.  They were allowed to take root in their world — so much so that pockets of these other worldviews started bleeding in, emerging and encroaching, physically changing the landscape — and allowing beings from other worlds to make it their new home.  

 

Some of these beings stayed in their entirety, and instead of “aliens” they were known as “Constellations”.  

 

Other alien entities that could not survive in this world on their own — because the context of the alien’s [Story] conflicted too much with the new world — decided on a symbiotic existence with the humans of this world.  These humans were known as “Incarnations” of those other existences.  

 

Consequently, it created a different path for humans who did not naturally awaken as an esper.  And whether it be for power or desperation for a better life, many humans did choose to be sponsored by alien entities. 

 

Because if there is one truth that can be learned about humans, it is that they have always been extraordinarily adaptable.

 

After the initial invasion of other realities, it quickly became the new norm.  What once were ordinary humans eventually became espers with other-wordly abilities due the influence of the artifacts.  So really, it wasn’t that much of a difference to accept that other worlds — and even aliens from those worlds — would follow suit.      

 

Still, no matter how adaptable humans were, in order for these [Stories] to exist in their world, the probability had to come from somewhere .  

 

And humans weren’t independent batteries that generated probability infinitely.

 

Thus, the decline of this world was inevitable.

 

Until the Dokkaebi King stepped in.

 

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“We don’t exactly know the origin of the first guides.  But we couldn’t refute that when they were paired with espers, the decline of the world was reversed.”

 

Bihyung couldn't help but feel as if there was a missing piece that was just within his reach.  Before he could properly form the question, Biyoo asked, “The black cat…didn’t it appear as an anomaly around that time…?”  Her voice held a dreamy quality, while her eyes seemed to be looking through the painting that Bihyung had noticed earlier.

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram traded a glance with Bihyung — Bihyung’s gaze filled with disbelief and confusion, because why was it that his mentor knew so much? — before clearing his throat and hesitantly answering, “The records are a bit…murky around that time.  They only become clearer some decades afterwards…”

 

Biyoo absently hummed in response, her gaze becoming sharper.  “There seems to be a lot of ‘missing’ history.”

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram sighed, his tone resigned.  “A lot of the dokkaebi that was around at that time have lost themselves to the [Story], especially since —”

 

“This was all before the time my egg was formed, and then the… ‘Unamable One’ was banished, taking many other [Stories] with him.”  Biyoo cut in quickly, and if Bihyung hadn’t been looking directly at her, he would have missed the worried look she threw at Yoo Joonghyuk before it was erased.  

 

“What part of the records are still intact?”

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram recovered quickly from being interrupted.  “Well, after the former Dokkaebi King helped to bring the existence of the first guides to light, the world’s probability was rebalanced, and everything was running smoothly again.  That is, until —“

 

”Until my egg was created.”  Biyoo’s tone was light, even though the history of her creation was not.  

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram simply nodded in agreement.  “Right.  Our former King handled that issue quickly enough. At that time, the Dokkaebi King was no longer the only dokkaebi and the dokkaebi from the other worlds naturally recognized his authority.  It was agreed that it was best to collect and seal the artifacts, and so the world restabilized after the constant bombardment from the other realities were essentially stopped.”

 

On the surface, it sounded like everything had returned to normal.  However, Bihyung had the unique viewpoint of knowing about the strife between the Dokkaebi King and the Wenny Man.  

 

He had thought deeply about the former King’s [Story] — a companionship swiftly turned sour by betrayal, the forceful creation of a dokkaebi egg, and the swift banishment of the single person who had been the Dokkaebi King’s first anchor to this world.

 

Bihyung in particular had been aware of this for as long as he’d known Kim Dokja.

 

And, maybe because Kim Dokja’s [Story] was Bihyung’s first anchor to this world, it was easier for him to question and understand that, if Kim Dokja had ever betrayed Bihyung in the same way, Bihyung would never be the same.  

 

The more he thought about it, the more he knew that, if such a thing were to happen, he wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with the humans anymore.  He would have retreated into his dokkaebi instincts, becoming a spectator of their [Stories], neither helping nor hindering, merely watching the cycles of happiness and sorrow, fortune and hardship, comedy and tragedy. 

 

「So then why did the Dokkaebi King help?」  

 

The former King didn’t need to point out the existence of guides.  He could have left the world behind after taking the egg and sapling with him.  He didn’t need to clean up the artifacts that were running rampant throughout the world.  He could have let the world self-destruct, let it turn into just another blackhole among many in their universe, and moved on with the dokkaebi egg, with the other dokkaebi, and searched the stream of stars for another world, a different dimension.  

 

Instead, the Dokkaebi King stayed .  

 

《He stayed and rebuilt this world.》

 

Yet, when comparing the state of the world now to back then, there was a feeling of disharmony, so Bihyung couldn’t stop himself from asking, “If the world was surviving well after the artifacts were stored away, then…why…” 

 

It was only then that Bihyung realized he didn’t even know what it was he was asking, the feeling or thought so intangible that the [Words] to describe them were difficult to convey.

 

Ever since Bihyung started working at the Bureau — since the [Story] of the Dokkaebi King and the history of the Wenny Man seeped back into the world — it was almost as if everyone was starting to wake up from a dream.  

 

As if their own history that had been collectively erased was slowly returning, memories and records of events that had once been slumbering were waking up, sliding back into place, making it easier to recognize the dissonance with the current state of their world.

 

So it couldn’t be helped that he still felt uncertainty — or maybe even apprehension — when he had stuttered out his disjointed question.

 

And it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who was bothered by the dissonance.

 

“How convenient.  The Dokkaebi King suddenly became so fucking altruistic .”  [41]’s voice was rough and scathing, grief turning his words bitter.  He opened his mouth, more biting words ready to spill off the tip of his tongue, but then a small hand tugged gently at the hem of his coat sleeve.  

 

Guilt flashed briefly across his face, snapping his mouth shut.  

 

After all, Biyoo was now the incumbent Dokkaebi King.

 

《But her reign would be much different from her predecessor.》

 

“Appa…the thing is…”  She trailed off shakily, her gaze still glued to an unconscious Kim Dokja and the artifact he was holding.  

 

Still, determination sparked in her eyes, then grew brighter, and Bihyung nearly choked as probability instantly coalesced, materializing into a [Wall] that looked much like the [Wall] that Kim Dokja could create.

 

“Appa.  You see… All of this… it’s all just a [Story].”

 

Tension gripped [41] as he looked down to meet Biyoo’s gaze.  “What does that mean?”

 

Her expression grew soft as she explained, almost coaxing, “Back then… The reprieve was only temporary.  The Wenny Man was only human — thrown into isolation, forced to watch other stories, but never getting the chance to live his own — never able to reach the ending he wanted.  Eventually, the Wenny Man tried to break out of the In-Between and he had all the time in the world to do it.  So, through sheer insanity or desperation, he figured out how to weaponize the [Stories] that were forced to accompany him in his exile.”  

 

A sound like crystal shattering echoed in the space around them and a small crack in the [Wall] appeared above their heads.  However, as quickly as it appeared, it was patched closed, restoring the structure to its original strength.

 

“[Rifts] were torn open all over the world.  It didn’t matter that all of the artifacts were collected.  The Wenny Man was determined to return, so it was no longer the artifacts that were the issue.  And, if the [Rifts] weren’t closed in time… the [Stories] would once again swallow up all of the probability in this world.”

 

Great Dokkaebi Baram cleared his throat and inserted.  “The Bureau was formed as the collective body of the dokkaebi.  It helped to organize the espers and guides into teams.  The teams entered the [Rifts], played out the scenarios, and, if they were successful in finishing the [Stories], the [Rifts] could eventually be closed.”

 

Biyoo looked down at [41]’s clenched fist.  She let go of his sleeve, using her tiny fingers to pry between his knuckles.  Helpless indulgence loosened his hand, and Biyoo made a small sound of happy triumph as she held on tightly.

 

The sight gave Bihyung a feeling of intuition, as if she were trying to both comfort and ground [41].

 

Her next words only confirmed his leanings.

 

“Still, the Wenny Man had time and manic persistence… Eventually, the Wenny Man succeeded.”

 

She pushed on ruthlessly, not giving anyone time to think.  “The [Rifts] still took a toll on this world no matter how many were closed successfully.  It didn’t happen all at once.  It started with an affliction — people’s [Stories] leaking out, along with their probability.  They suddenly started collapsing in the streets, in their homes.  The Dokkaebi King was already weakened — because he was trying to protect me, because the transfer-of-power had already started — and there can only be one Dokkaebi King in the world at a time.  So, on the day the Wenny Man finally invaded, the world fell apart.”

 

Her eyes drifted to look at Yoo Joonghyuk, who kneeled near Kim Dokja’s head, only to find that he was already looking directly at her.  Even though his expression was tired, his gaze held both confusion and growing trepidation.

 

Biyoo met his gaze unwaveringly.  “Appa… you and Father were both there at that time.  Protecting all you needed to protect.  However.  It wasn’t enough.”

 

“ No .”  Yoo Joonhyuk forced out through a tight throat, his denial too weak to stop the dreadful portent of her next words.

 

“Father… Kim Dokja had known the Dokkaebi King for a long time, you see… It was strange how Father had always seemed to be able to read the pulse of the world… Sometimes even better than the Dokkaebi King.  So, before that final battle, he made a deal with the Dokkaebi King, a contract.  The Dokkaebi King would help to save this world, and Kim Dokja — Father promised to save me .”

 

Biyoo scoffed softly.  “At the time, who knows what Father was thinking.  I’m not naive enough to think he did it entirely for me.  The ending was obvious if the Wenny Man succeeded in seeking his end.  The former Dokkaebi King was too weakened to fight, his predecessor not even born yet — it was unknown what would happen if the world didn’t have a Dokkaebi King at all.  But it was a fact that one was needed as the opposing force to the Wenny Man.”

 

“A ‘Dokkaebi King’ was a main theme in the Wenny Man’s [Story], after all.”

 

Her eyes were misty as her gaze shifted between Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk.  “Father’s plan was mainly about buying time — for me, for the world to repair itself, for everyone else…  But the only way to preserve what was left of this world was to invert it — turn it into a [Story], its own isolated dimension, perpetually protected from the [Rifts].  But everyone knows — especially [1863]-appa — that in order for a [Story] to be actualized, it needs three things — an author, a protagonist, and a reader.

 

“The Dokkaebi King mobilized the Bureau’s probability, becoming the [Author] and inverting the world into a [Story].  Kim Dokja… sacrificed himself to become the [Reader] — the [Dreamer] — paying for the probability cost with his own [Story].”           

 

With watery eyes, pleading for Yoo Joonghyuk to understand, she pressed on.  “Except, Appa… for him … For Father, you became the [Protagonist].  To save his life.  To save this world.  While Father was asleep, he wandered the labyrinth with me, but you… You ran along the pages of this world’s [Story], carrying the weight of the [Words] on your shoulders… If the [Protagonist] remembered the [Dreamer], then maybe the [Reader] would eventually return…” 

 

“Father became the anchor, and you became the pendulum.”

 

“But, Appa, the [Protagonist] can never die, or the [Story] would come to an end.  And this time, it was crucial that the world’s [Story] had to be never-ending.”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk was frozen silent.  His knuckles were pale where he held onto Kim Dokja’s hand tightly.  His thoughts had long come to a conclusion that reeked of inevitability.  He swallowed dryly, then asked.  “How long?”

 

“Overall… At least a few centuries… Maybe longer… There were times that you lived many years before you died…”

 

Yoo Joonghyuk traded a look with [41], an easy, tacit understanding of each other.  

 

But then.

 

”What’s wrong with our Omega?”  [2]’s voice cracked with a deep grief that even he couldn’t comprehend.

 

Biyoo’s expression twisted as she answered.  “Because of the sloppy use of Disconnected Film Theory, the past that Kim Dokja remembers in this life is colliding with the past that his [Original Story] is telling him.  It was too much all at once, and so he’s returned to a [Dream]-state.”  

 

Her expression softened as she gently brushed the back of Kim Dokja’s hand.  “The sword is an artifact tied deeply to Father’s [Original Story].  It’s helping him to repair his [Story].  In fact, he’s likely [Dreaming],  may be running through the scenario right now…”

 

”What do you mean by ‘scenario’?”

 

”Ah, the [Rifts] generated by the artifacts were named ‘scenarios’ — so it followed that when the Wenny Man weaponized them again, it was called the same thing.  You and Father… you used to clear the scenarios together, cleaning up the messes and collecting the [Story] pieces… partners, companions, an imprinted pair… Before the day that the Wenny Man breached through, that is…”

 

She tapped the guard of the sword lightly, her expression thoughtful.  “You know… I could help you access his [Dream]-state… you could help him get through the scenario together.  It might speed up the repair and wake him up quicker…”

 

Bihyung felt as if he stood at the edge of a cliff, too much information pushing him from behind that his thoughts were slow to catch up.  He remembered the dusty Singularity Report he had found, the pieces that had been long hidden finally coming together.  Lost in his own thoughts, he murmured, “Regression… Every cycle, no one was supposed to remember.  Each time the [Story] restarted, it was supposed to be a clean-slate… but you…”

 

「...」

 

〈The man had split himself into more than a thousand forms in order to save their one and only person…〉

 

Bihyung stared at Yoo Joonghyuk, trying to see through him.  “The report said that you always somehow remembered the cycle before.  But it was only towards the end, right before you regressed…”

 

Then, Bihyung’s eyes widened in realization.  “Your facets — fragments from all of the different cycles —”

 

The door slammed open, interrupting him.  

 

The soft thud of shoes against the floor reverberated in the silence.  

 

A subtle scent of tobacco smoke permeated the air.  

 

Clouds of probability scattered, making the path to Kim Dokja that much easier.  

 

“This [Story] was always meant for just that one ‘reader’.”

 

Han Sooyoung looked down at Kim Dokja’s sleeping figure.  Her aura held a sense of familiarity and arrogance and strangeness — as if…

 

《As if she came from a different time.》

 

“You’ll have to read it all again in order to make sense of everything.”

 

She lightly tapped her nail against the shattered blade, a single note ringing through the space.

 

“Hurry up, Dokja-yah.  Don’t keep us waiting too long.”

Notes:

Hello, Dear Reader-nims! Thank you for hanging on for so long and for your patience.
I did go back and self-edit the previous chapters, which contributed to why it took so long to post this last chapter.
Like the original ORV - going back to read it all again after knowing the end of the main story, with an omniscient reader's perspective... I invite you all to 'read again', if you would like a more coherent experience of this arc.
This is the end of the first arc of this work.
There will be three more main arcs.
Thank you.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Reading Again (起承轉結)