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Chapter Text

Survival in another world begins with a death.

It’s just genre convention. Usually for transmigrations or reincarnations, although sometimes regressions follow the pattern. Isekais where the main character dies suddenly and wakes up in another world are very popular. The method of death is usually pretty simple: hit by a truck or death by overwork are the most common. It’s never important. Death was only a method, a panel or a few lines in the beginning to explain how the lead left their world to wake up in another body and become the protagonist of a story.

The story requests something of the reader: that you don’t stop and wonder about the lives left behind. The lead is usually an orphan with no loved ones, friends, career, or future. Their death is inconsequential and meaningless, because they will not be remembered. They will find love and family and a future in the new world. Please do not worry about their old life. Death doesn’t matter if you mattered to nobody. Death is good if the life was bad. 

Ways of Survival was my favorite story. Within its snow-white gardens I was Yoo Joonghyuk. Reading other isekais, I was only ever the solitary person trapped in a hopeless world. I could not follow the will of the story: I always wondered about the people left behind in the other world. 

Did these leads never come home because nobody remembered them?

If somebody remembered them…would they come home?

When I met Yoo Joonghyuk again he seemed less murderous, which was nice. 

It helped that we were both a little embarrassed over the Theater Dungeon. I hadn’t planned on growing emotional like that. It was effective in the end, so I suppose it was as good a plan as any. I had assured Jung Heewon and Lee Jihye and anybody listening that crying and yelling at a mean butcher over how he was your brother best friend husband etc was just an effective emotional manipulation tactic, and that I wasn’t weird about Yoo Joonghyuk at all. They had clearly chosen to believe my story. I think the alternative was too distressing to them.

Things were always tense between us. But they were tense in an awkward, overshared way, instead of the usual ‘I deeply want to murder him’ way. It was highly endearing. Everything about the man was highly endearing. Everybody else called him an asshole, but that was why he was so lovable. ‘Nice guy’ heroes were too unremarkable. 

They would see. They were about to see. They were about to meet Yoo Joonghyuk’s softer side. His vulnerability. They would realize he was more than a mean butcher, and that any ‘brother best friend husband etc’ comments came from a truly rational and reasoned place.

Normally this wouldn’t happen until much later in the story, but I was far too impatient. Tidying up this subplot before it became too much of a hassle was good logistics, but it wasn’t my primary reason for speedrunning this plotline. I had been waiting for this arc since the first scenario. We couldn’t get to this origin fast enough. Thinking about it excited me so much that my hands almost shook. 

This plotline…here, now. It would make everything worth it.

I took a deep breath and fought to remember how to phrase this. I had to be careful. I couldn’t have Yoo Joonghyuk run off too quickly, but I couldn’t have him put this off. I had to stress how important it was that we handle it now, without propelling him into a sense of urgency. The clock was already ticking, and even at this early point safety was not guaranteed. But the rewards justified the risk.

Not that this subplot would end with anybody dead. This arc always had a happy conclusion. It was an early moment of triumph and hope in the early and hopeless scenarios. That was the entire point. Failure would defeat the point. As such, like all failures, it was unacceptable.

“They called themselves the Revelators,” Jung Heewon said, completely destroying all of my momentum and splitting my mental pep talk in twain. “Kept on talking about how they were followers of the prophet or what-the-fuck-ever. They seemed like idiots, but they were strong.”

Most of the group glanced at each other anxiously. We were all gathered in Gong Pildu’s hideout, pointedly ignoring how half of us didn’t want to be around the other half. Yoo Joonghyuk was sitting by the door and twitching for an escape every five seconds. Lee Gilyoung’s head kept nodding as if he needed a nap, but he forced himself awake and alert every time. 

Yoo Sangah just glanced at me nervously, biting her lip. Yoo Sangah wasn’t exactly an action hero, but the intelligent and composed types tended to last longer than the strong and brash ones. If she ever adjusted to her new reality her odds of survival would be decent. She was too useful to cut loose right now, so I had decided she was an investment. “More prophets? Are they prophets…in the same manner that Dokja-ssi is a prophet?” 

Left unsaid: Yoo Sangah did not buy for one second that I was a prophet. Jung Heewon’s eyebrow twitched. She also did not buy the prophet story. I was supposed to be better at lying than this.

“Master could beat up their whole group with one hand behind his back,” Lee Jihye assured all of us. “I bet it’s just some woo-woo apocalypse doom thing. They’re just getting in the way of Master and I capturing the territories.” As if she was doing us a great favor, she said, “You can deal with them if you want, I guess.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood up, chair skidding across the floor. Everybody startled - he still looked half-dead from the Theater Dungeon. “I’ll take care of it.”

Then he grabbed his sword and moved to leave the room, as if he was a wind-up toy soldier marching towards his next mission. I was startled stiff for a second, but I managed to gather myself in time to jump up and rush to intercept him. If I was guessing correctly…

“You can’t defeat the entire Revelator group by yourself,” I said loudly. “Let us help you. We can work as a team.”

Yoo Joonghyuk unceremoniously pushed me aside. I smiled and stepped back in front of him, like a bobo doll that always bounced back. “Destroy their leadership and they’ll disband. You’re unnecessary.”

“Of course Master already knows who their leader is,” Lee Jihye said excitedly. “We’ll get this done with in five seconds, yeah?!”

Destroy their leadership - what? He didn’t go straight for their leadership in the third regression. In the earlier regressions he always collected Lee Jihye first, then Kim Namwoon, then Lee Hyunsung, and then polished up the Revelator plotline. I had stolen Hyunsung and killed Namwoon, but that didn’t mean…

Did I do something? Did poaching his companions pressure him into building up his own forces earlier? An accidental victory, then. Protagonists were helpful to have around. 

“I’ll go with you,” I said quickly. Yoo Joonghyuk stepped to the left and tried to pass me. I stepped to the left and blocked him. “Who’s better to fight a prophet than a prophet? I can be of great help.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped to the right. I stepped to the right. He feinted to the left, but I didn’t fall for the classic move. 

He clenched his jaw, fists flexing with the desire to strangle me again. “Why are you like this .”

Ordinary childhood trauma and an over-active DeviantArt account. “I’m an O+ and a Libra. Is this mission one you can afford to leave to chance, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at me for a long second. I smiled politely yet winningly, like a dog waiting for a treat, and activated Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint.

Why does he remind me of her so much? They’re nothing alike. It’s ridiculous. This entire regression is ridiculous. His eyebrow twitched. He’s been useful so far. And he’s good with words…maybe they can talk rings around each other and leave me in peace for once. 

[The Fourth Wall rejects reality!]

“Fine,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“So happy you’re seeing things my way, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi!”

“Oh boy,” Lee Jihye said.

Don’t act ungrateful, Lee Jihye. I was doing her the greatest favor of her life. She just didn’t know it yet.

Nobody had to know. 

The battle was anticlimactic. 

On our end, at least - from what I understand, some of us were having a hard time trying to prevent a catastrophe and failing. Life was a hell of a lot easier when you tagged along with a protagonist. He did all of the hard work and I could practically relax. 

Well, I was stealing a lot of exp and doing some grinding. Some light looting. It wasn’t exactly what I had imagined when I pictured myself fighting with Yoo Joonghyuk - it had always been a back-to-back, side-by-side, mirror image thing, where he took right and I took left and he wore black and I wore white or something - but coasting by was far more efficient and left me time to work on important personal projects.

[Secretive Plotter thinks you’re lazy.]

They weren’t this judgmental in the book.

We traipsed straight for the First Revelator’s hideout. Yoo Joonghyuk let me lead the way, subtly testing to see if I was really talking out of my ass about the prophet thing, but I had reread this part a thousand times and I led with confidence. It felt bizarre to cut off the head of the Revelator snake so early on, but I was too excited to worry about it too hard.

How would I introduce myself? I thought my introduction with Yoo Joonghyuk was pretty cool, if ignoble. I’d prefer to avoid another assassination attempt, but that shouldn’t be too difficult. Maybe. Maybe she would try to assassinate me. No, she definitely would. Or was that just wishful thinking?

Her hideout was in the depths of the subway and patrolled by a half-dozen Avatars. Yoo Joonghyuk dispatched them all in seconds, easily reaching for their blind spots and weak points, and I subtly did the same. He had to rescue me from one particularly smug Avatar, which was a little embarrassing. But also very cool. She could beat me up! 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t barge straight into the hideout. He found a service chute and climbed up the ladder first, bursting out of the black subway night into the dim Seoul apocalyptic gray. I scrambled after him as he lightly fixed the manhole back in place. Then he stood back from the manhole, crossing his arms and standing as still as a statue. I eagerly took a place behind him, trying my best to look as cool as he did. This was straight out of chapter 1048! My favorite chapter !

Distant sounds of thumping echoed underneath us. 

“Let me handle this,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. 

I must be insane. In a ruined world, populated by monsters and spirits and demons, I had to be the most insane person in the star stream. The world has ended and I haven’t been this happy in a decade. I still remember how reading chapter 1048 made me feel. I tried not to remember that time in my life, but that chapter had been a shining star of happiness in a sea of black.

On that fateful subway, a few short weeks and a lifetime ago, Yoo Sangah had asked why I was crying. The apocalypse had thankfully saved me from having to answer the question, but the fact remained. Only the arrival of the first scenario had averted the apocalypse of my world. 

“Go easy on her,” I said. “She’s just a kid.”

Yoo Joonghyuk blinked.

The manhole clattered and flew to the side, and a petite woman dressed in black scrambled out of the service tunnel. She was panting heavily, black cloak draped over one shoulder, but it was impossible to miss the triumphant grin on her face. I didn’t need Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint to know that she was congratulating herself on her great escape.

Then she looked up. And up, and up. And saw Yoo Joonghyuk standing over her, his bulk blotting out the sun. His arms were crossed and his expression was deeply unamused. I leaned over his shoulder and met the woman’s dark eyes. For a crazy, stupid second, I thought: what’s Sooyoung’s mother doing here?

But the woman had short-cropped black hair that brushed her chin in messy split ends, and her beauty mark was right where it should be, and the woman’s identity was absolute.

I pulled away so I could hide my shock. What the hell?

“Uh,” Han Sooyoung said. “Ha ha. Crazy seeing you here, Joonghyuk-ah. You’re…early.”

“I have exhausted my patience,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Oh, so soon? We’re not even a month into this.” She slowly scrambled backwards and straightened, one hand drifting behind her back. “Do you really have to ruin all of my plans before they can even start? I don’t give up that easily, you know…” Yoo Joonghyuk partially unsheathed his sword, the metal ringing cartoonishly in the empty street. “You know what, I wasn’t that attached to my plans anyway! How are you! How have you been? It’s been a while!”

I continued smiling impassively.

Internally, I was losing my mind. My mind was pulled in many directions and I was losing all of them. On one hand, my favorite character was right in front of me . She was interacting with my other favorite character. They were bantering! It was like the live action adaptation of Ways of Survival that had only ever existed in my head. Every idle daydream of the last thirteen years stood in front of me, close to each other - close, not just words on a page, but close, in front of each other, in front of me, right there, close -

On the other hand, Han Sooyoung was meant to be eighteen years old.

She was always eighteen years old. Sure, sometimes she reached her 21st birthday - I think her record was twenty four years old - but in the first scenario she was eighteen. This woman was at least twenty eight. Han Sooyoung was not twenty eight. That just wasn’t right. There was no reason why my presence should add ten decades to Han Sooyoung’s character. This completely ruined her romance plotline. It ruined so much.

Mostly importantly, this tanked Han Sooyoung/Lee Jihye. I had killed Kim Namwoon explicitly to nip that idiot love triangle in the bud. My ship was supposed to have clear waters. I couldn’t believe it. Han Sooyoung was eighteen, that was how this worked. She wasn’t supposed to be an adult. It wasn’t right. 

But she was standing in front of me. That wasn’t right either.

“Been worse.” Yoo Joonghyuk returned his sword. His dark eyes were still fixed on Han Sooyoung, but I had never seen his expression with my own eyes before. I recognized it, of course. “It’s good to see you again.”

Han Sooyoung grinned, big and bright and beautiful. Her beauty didn’t slap your cheeks twice, but her earnest smiles could knock you out. “How did I know you would say that?”

“I don’t know,” Yoo Joonghyuk panned. “Is it because you’re a genius?”

“Aw, Joonghyuk-ah! You really think I’m a genius?”

“You’re full of yourself.”

“I’m running short on myself, thanks to you. You killed, like, six of my Avatars. I’m going to sleep for two days after this. Make it up to me and carry me on your back!”

“What’s the probability of me doing that?” 

“Zero, ‘cause you’re an asshole.” Han Sooyoung thrust her hand out, eyes sparking mischievously. “But there’s a hundred percent chance you got me a present.”

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and withdrew something from his pocket. He slapped it into Han Sooyoung’s expectant hand, and his palm lingered on hers just a little too long before he let it fall away. It was a lemon lollipop. I didn’t see him collect it. He must have been holding it all this time. 

Han Sooyoung eagerly unwrapped the lollipop. “You know, that whole twenty chapter arc sounded kinda boring anyway. Throws off the whole game, but I think I like joining up with you earlier - hey, what’s wrong with you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s head jerked around, and when he saw me his eyes widened. He looked like he’d seen a snake. “Kim Dokja? Why are you crying?”

I couldn’t respond. My shoulders were shaking.

“Stop crying, Kim Dokja.”

I wasn’t sobbing or doing anything unnecessary. There was no point in calling attention to it. Watching them had always been enough. I wished they would just let me watch them.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Han Sooyoung asked Yoo Joonghyuk. She sounded a little panicked. The only things that panicked her were social situations. “He’s a 0% in Predictive Storytelling. There was no future where you brought somebody with you to find me. Is that why he’s crying? Did you kidnap him?”

“He’s the one who forces me to do things,” Yoo Joonghyuk snapped. Han Sooyoung squinted in disbelief that anybody could force Yoo Joonghyuk to do anything. “Make him stop.”

“Make him stop ? Why can I make people stop crying? ‘Cause I’m a woman?”

“You’re barely a woman.”

“Fucking excuse you -”

[The Fourth Wall is fluctuating!]

That was the problem. I’d fix it. I opened up Han Sooyoung’s attribute window and forced myself to memorize it. I crammed it inside of me. It was the truth, and the only truth that mattered.

Name: Han Sooyoung

Age: 28 years

Constellation Support: Abyssal Black Flame Dragon

Personal Attribute: Dreamwalker

Personal Skills: [Avatar Lv. 1], [Predictive Storytelling Lv. 5]

Overall Stats: [Constitution Lv. 5], [Strength Lv. 2], [Agility Lv. 7]...

A light pressure on my arm jolted me back into awareness, and I finally saw Han Sooyoung poking me with the stick of the unwrapped lollipop. 

“It’s hard to cry and eat candy,” Han Sooyoung said awkwardly. “You’re going to bring down all the monsters on our heads, you know. So cut it out.” She prodded me with the lollipop stick again. “Come on. Take it.”

I took it. I mutely stuck it in my mouth. It tasted like summer and graphite.

“Seriously, though.” Han Sooyoung crossed her arms, looking me up and down judgmentally. I wondered what she saw. Probably nobody very impressive. “You’re not supposed to be here. Are you this bastard's new best friend or something? If you replaced me with this wet cat I'm gonna go Avatar State on your ass, Yoo Joonghyuk."

I smiled around the lollipop in my mouth. "Han Sooyoung…do you have a crush on me or something?"

Han Sooyoung screamed. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : do you have a crush on me or something lmfaoooo?

kdj : Excuse me??? I did not give you permission to private DM me. I have better things to do with my life than argue with a fool who doesn't understand Yoo Joonghyuk's motivations at all. Good day sir. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : no u don't lol. do u feel like getting permabanned I don't feel like getting permabanned. and mod cap said

kdj : Mod Cap said to stop clogging up the forum threads like you are clogging my DMs good DAY sir

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: l m f a o as if you have anything better to do than argue with a stranger on the internet??? virgin

kdj: I’M SORRY?!?!?! YOu wrote badly researched comments for four hours yesterday. You’re never going to get a boyfriend like this

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: You left 31 comments I only left 28 YOU’RE the loser loser. and i have a boyfriend he’s hot

kdj: lmfao sure

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: he goes to college he has a drivers license and a nice car. anyway it’s not like you have a girlfriend so shut it 

kdj: I don’t want a girlfriend they’re all mean and theyre always pretending they like me

kdj: wait that makes me sound like a loser never mind lol

kdj: only a high school girl thinks that pretending she has a college with a drivers license is cool. Face it you’re a virgin loser like me who spends four hours a day arguing with other virgin internet losers about a book nobody reads

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: -_- 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: hey think of it this way

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: the worlds full of loser virgins like us

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: but were the only ones whove read the best novel ever so we’re cooler than they are. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: that makes us like comrades in arms

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: except youre a loser with bad opinions so it doesnt actually do that

kdj: lmfao??? As if i would ever be comrades with someone mean like you 

kdj : and Yoo Joonghyuk could win against Goku if he just had enough prep time

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : THATS BATMAN IDIOT

kdj : Batmans lame

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : U R SO DUMB

kdj : no u lol

kdj: this cat meme reminded me of you lol

kdj: hey u online? 

Han Sooyoung was the best character in Ways of Survival.

Hands down, no doubt about it. She was neck and neck with Yoo Joonghyuk for my favorite character overall, even if he always pulled ahead in the end for deeply obvious reasons. She had all the good jokes, flexed the coolest powers, and her sponsor was literally a giant dragon. When the Abyssal Black Flame dragon became the Apocalypse Dragon, her level of power escalated so high that she could fight Yoo Joonghyuk one on one and come out the victor. She died two chapters afterwards when she heroically sacrificed her life to save the world from the Apocalypse Dragon, but it had been a badass tragic death. 

Yoo Joonghyuk had cradled her body in his arms, still beautiful even as the black flames consumed her body. She had reached up a hand and brushed away the tears from his cheek, offering a final smile. Han Sooyoung was a character who always smiled for the sake of others.

“You dumb bastard,” she had whispered. That was their whole thing: she called him a bastard, he called her annoying. A meeting of two tsunderes. “Don’t make that face. This isn’t goodbye. This is ‘see you later’.”

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t say anything. But Han Sooyoung knew him the best, and she knew what he couldn’t say. 

“Our big house,” Han Sooyoung said. “Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “See you later, Sooyoung.”

He held Han Sooyoung for a long minute after she breathed her last, and when he stood up tears trailed silent tracks down his cheeks. Then he massively whooped ass. Then he died again. I don’t remember the details - I always skip that scene on a reread. It must have been only the twenty sixth or thirtieth regression. Heartwarming, drawn-out death scenes like that trailed off after the 42nd regression. After a while Yoo Joonghyuk stopped dramatically reacting to her death.

He only ever said one thing, and he said it up until the end. When Han Sooyoung jumped in front of him to absorb Metatron’s attack in the War of Good and Evil, or when she was cut down in a climactic final fight against Baal, he always said the same thing: ‘see you later’. 

I had always found the recurring line interesting. It implied that Han Sooyoung always knew that Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t succeed in that timeline. She always died believing that he would regress again, and he always did. She was the only character who truly understood the futility of their fight, but she was always the first character to pledge herself to his war. Why did she approach every losing battle as if they had a chance? She was a character of great contradictions. 

Sometimes I wondered if her words had a bad psychological effect on Yoo Joonghyuk. In the 998th regression, he told the murdered Han Sooyoung ‘see you later’ before finishing the battle with a climactic kamikaze move that destroyed the entire Asgard Nebula and himself along with it. They died within less than an hour of each other. The narration claimed that he did what he knew had to be done - that he knew there would be another chance in the next turn of the clock - but I always privately wondered if he just didn’t want to live another lifetime without Han Sooyoung. The one person who always knew him.

Han Sooyoung’s OP skill was ‘Predictive Storyteller’. It made her invaluable strategically and a beast on the battlefield. It was kind of a crapshoot sometimes, and like Spider-Man’s webs her predictions always failed at the right time for maximum drama, but that only made it more rewarding to see her skill grow and her accuracy increase.

‘Predictive Storyteller’ was the unique power of an author. Han Sooyoung was an author. That was important. It was her whole thing. There was no Han Sooyoung without the authorship angle. She was a hugely talented author, one who wrote super-popular webnovels online, and her knowledge of tropes and plots and story structure was incredible. Like the romance author who could always predict what would come next in the formulaic romance she read, Han Sooyoung could follow the track of the story and guess where the plot would lead them. It made her Yoo Joonghyuk’s right hand woman and a genius strategist despite her young age. Other characters wrote her off for being a teenage girl, but she always had a cool scene where she humiliated them and proved why she was the best.

This skill meant that Yoo Joonghyuk never had to introduce himself to her. Han Sooyoung could read the regression in front of her like a book, and she always began the story knowing that she and Yoo Joonghyuk were best friends. She only ever had distinct memories of the last regression or two, but she could open up her skill’s records of each regression and access her memories from each one. She could read them like a book or experience them as if she was there. Nobody but Yoo Joonghyuk could tolerate almost two thousand regressions of memories, but Han Sooyoung could read every second of their past lives together and remember who he was. No other character truly understood him. 

Yoo Joonghyuk met his companions and lost them. He loved them and they forgot him. Over and over and over again, this loneliness compounded into a crushing weight. But it was always Han Sooyoung who saved him from this abyssal loneliness - the one friend he never lost. 

Their relationship was the best. It was the basis of a lot of my personal criticism about the late stage story. The 999th regression was the peak of the story, but afterwards none of the companions became very important. The story became endless fights and level ups and scenarios and climactic showdowns. Yoo Joonghyuk was the only important figure in any of them. The fights were fun, but Ways of Survival was really about the friends Yoo Joonghyuk made along the way. 

In the 1299th regression he killed Han Sooyoung himself . It was so OOC. I left a three paragraph comment about how he would never do that. He killed his own companions sometimes, but he never permanently killed Han Sooyoung. Did the writer forget about the 998th regression where he almost lost all desire to live because he couldn’t live without her?

Reading that chapter prompted my one and only psychiatrist visit since I turned 20. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t afford to miss work again. The doctor completely misunderstood my situation, but at least I had gotten some Clonazepam out of it. 

It was the one chapter I never reread. It just wasn’t canon to me. Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t even said ‘see you later’. He had said ‘goodbye’. Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t say that. 

[The Fourth Wall is fluctuating rapidly.]

I draped another blanket on Shin Yoosyung’s shoulders. 

Almost the entire campfire was giving the girl a wide berth. I didn’t need Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint to see that the company was expecting this scenario to end in her death. They didn’t want to get attached. Only Lee Gilyoung, who approached life as it came, sat by us and crammed fried crickets into his mouth. Shin Yoosung watched with wide eyes as he grabbed a perpetually spawning cricket off the ground, fried it with his mind, and then popped it in his mouth.

She tugged at my coat until I leaned down and whispered, “Can I learn to do that?”

“If you train hard and believe in yourself,” I said bracingly.

Shin Yoosung’s eyes twinkled with stars. “Wow.”

Lee Gilyoung caught us talking and crushed his cricket in his hand. He hurriedly leaned over and tugged on the other side of my coat, forcing me to lean the other way. 

His hands fisted on my coat, expression intent. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Finally, he said, “Are you gonna eat that?”

Shin Yoosung leaned around me and wrinkled her nose at him. “Can’t you eat your own food? You said you were a big kid.”

Lee Gilyoung just sneered at her. I had to bite down on my shock: I barely ever saw the kid make a facial expression, much less actively disdain another ten year old. “You’re the one annoying hyung.”

A wave of desolation and fear crashed over Shin Yoosung. “I’m - I’m not annoying - am I?”

“It’s super annoying how you’re going to kill everybody with your ugly animals!”

“My animals are not ugly !” Shin Yoosung yelled, before bursting into tears.

I did not sigh. The adults on the other side of the fire were already side-eyeing us a little - save Yoo Joonghyuk, who was sitting apart from everybody and polishing his sword in the complete darkness - and I could see the tense atmosphere wind up Shin Yoosung even more. 

I rubbed her back, tucking the blankets around her shoulders. Lee Gilyoung looked even more outraged. “I’m not annoyed, and nobody’s killing anybody. Gilyoung-ah, just because somebody is destined to grow up into the harbinger of the apocalypse and destroyer of human civilization it doesn’t mean you get to be rude. Apologize to Yoosung-ah.”

Lee Gilyoung ducked his head and muttered something that may have resembled an apology.

“It’s okay,” Shin Yoosung said nobly. “But my pterodactyls are still mad at you.”

I decided I didn’t have to understand this. 

Shin Yoosung sniffled and snuggled against my side. Why did she do that? Was she cold?

Lee Gilyoung scooted closer until his leg was pressed against mine. Maybe he was also cold. I spread the blanket from my shoulders onto his, since he was probably cold. Lee Gilyoung snuggled against my side too. 

On the other side of the fire, Yoo Sangah smiled and mimed taking a picture. I mimed grabbing her imaginary phone and throwing it over my shoulder. Lee Hyunsung smiled too, and he leaned down to whisper something in Jung Heewon’s ear. She lightly punched him on the shoulder, and for some reason Lee Hyunsung broke into a wide grin. 

The only person completely unamused was Han Sooyoung. She had been burning holes in the side of my head ever since the dimming afternoon when we sat down for dinner, and as I managed the kids her expression only grew stormier. As usual, I ignored her and continued nodding along to the incessant stream of information from both children about trilobites (Lee Gilyoung), wooly mammoths (Shin Yoosung), and how many trilobites it would take to defeat a wooly mammoth (either a million small trilobites or one very big trilobite). 

Apparently tearing up a string hunk of meat into smaller pieces and putting it onto a paper plate for Shin Yoosung was the last straw. Han Sooyoung stood up and marched over to my side of the campfire, stopping only to stand in front of me and cross her arms. 

“Sorry we don’t have any sauce,” I told Shin Yoosung. “I know it’s kind of tough.”

Shin Yoosung instantly crammed a big piece in her mouth and garbled out something about how much she loved it. 

“Ahem,” Han Sooyoung said. 

“Did you know that you can make chili oil out of silkworm pupae?”

“I am never, ever, ever eating that,” Shin Yoosung said primly. “Ahjussi thinks that’s gross too.”

“Hyung did not say that .” Lee Gilyoung was a defender of truth, justice, and silkworms, and he would not stand for such slander. He turned to me, alight with holy vengeance. “You didn’t say that, right?!”

“Excuse me,” Han Sooyoung said.

“It’s not something I said .”

Shin Yoosung stuck her tongue out. “But he was thinking it .”

“You can’t read minds!”

“I’ll read minds when I’m the apocalyptic harbinger of evil!”

“But that’s not fair!”

“It’s not fair that you can fry crickets with your brain!”

Lee Gilyoung leaned back, satisfied. “It is pretty cool, isn’t it?”

Shin Yoosung nodded. Lee Gilyoung nodded back. An accord had been reached.

That was the final straw for Han Sooyoung. “Kim Dokja, stop hiding behind those children and talk to me.”

“But I’m sitting next to them?”

“ Now .”

Both children puffed up in complete unison and yelled identical sentiments about how Han Sooyoung was not, in any way whatsoever, qualified to tell me what to do.

“You’ve been pathetic for weeks,” Han Sooyoung informed me, “but now this is just sad.”

It had to happen sometime. I thought I’d been keeping a pretty good record. Using the children as human shields to avoid confrontation had worked well for a few hours, but maybe it only seemed like the tactics of a desperate man. 

I sighed and extricated myself from the children, muttering promises to come back as close to instantaneously as physically possible. I politely ignored how they scooted close together and combined the blankets to cover both their shoulders. Yoo Sangah clutched Jung Heewon’s shoulder and mimed a heart attack from the adorable.

I expected her to start berating me in front of the entire group - see scenario 15 in the 83rd regression where she publicly tore Yoo Joonghyuk a new asshole for abandoning a comrade on a mission - but she just turned on her heel and flounced off into the night with the clear expectation that I would follow her. I’d rather have this conversation in private than experience a scenario 15 in the 83rd regression situation - or, worse, a scenario 80 in the 1112th regression situation - so I meekly followed her into the night.

Towards Yoo Joonghyuk’s own camp, which surprised me. It was a minor miracle neither of them had fucked off into the night, and it was a major miracle to see Han Sooyoung flopping down next to Yoo Joonghyuk on an abandoned piece of rebar and gesture for me to sit. I could just barely see Yoo Joonghyuk polish his sword by the light of a cheap lantern. His face was left mostly in darkness. It was cold here, distant from the campfire, but neither of them seemed to notice.

“Do you know the probability of us winning against the 41st regression Shin Yoosung?” Han Sooyoung asked bluntly. Of course, this was the most prescient issue.

“Is it possible?”

“It’s not plausible.”

“But it’s possible.”

“It’s possible we will all die of a lightning strike in the next five seconds.” Han Sooyoung paused dramatically for five seconds. The predictable occurred. “There. Nothing. You are betting Seoul on the ‘we all get hit by lightning’ probability. Idiot. What the fuck are you doing.” She paused a beat. “Also you’ve been avoiding me and it’s awkward as fuck. Joonghyuk, tell him he’s been avoiding me.”

Yoo Joonghyuk serenely slid oil over his wicked blade and ignored her.

“I know what I’m doing.” My voice was even, calm, and reassuring. The situation with Shin Yoosung had really helped me perfect my reassuring bullshit tone. “Please just trust that I have a plan, Han Sooyoung-ssi.”

Instantly, Han Sooyoung said, “I don’t trust you.”

Ah. I smiled politely. “That really hurts, Han Sooyoung-ssi.”

“Your silence on the avoiding me thing is deafening.”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Do you think you’re a good liar?” Han Yoosoung demanded. Maybe far too late, I saw that her eyes were flint. She was rarely serious, but she was serious now. “You’re the only one who buys your own bullshit. The only people you’re remotely fooling are the literal elementary schoolers, and we’re all fucked if you don’t grow some balls and kill one of them.”

The level of crassness and rudeness indicated how upset she was. Han Sooyoung was the type of hero who always rescued the kid first. I had opted not to immediately kill Shin Yoosung because her talents were useful, but Han Sooyoung was a hero who always rescued the little kids. Her tough and prickly exterior betrayed her softer side. Yoo Joonghyuk was a tough anti-hero, but Han Sooyoung always made the right decision. In some turns this dichotomy even made them face each other in battle. It was always a close match. He never killed her. She was the one enemy he never eradicated.

Han Sooyoung’s eyes kept darting to little Shin Yoosung every few minutes, watching the glow of the campfire paint her face in soft oranges and yellows. Shin Yoosung’s eyes were rimmed with bags, but so were Han Sooyoung’s. 

I bent my voice into a soft but firm shape.  “Han Sooyoung-ssi. At this point, killing the child is still plan D. Let me exhaust plans A through C before we resort to that. If you can’t trust me, please put your faith in me. I won’t let you suffer any consequences from my mistakes.”

The soothing words had the opposite effect. Han Sooyoung only grew more agitated, opening her mouth and closing it and waving around an arm. Was she this upset over something like me avoiding her? 

I could admit to that. I was always as nice as I could be, but I didn’t really seek her out for any solo bonding time or anything. There wasn’t really much of a need. Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung preferred to spend time alone or with each other, and it would have been rude to barge into the middle of that. There was no point in intruding and creating an awkward situation for everybody. 

Yoo Joonghyuk slid his rag over his gleaming sword. As if we were standing in front of the baseball game on the television, he said, "Just tell him."

I clapped my hands, smiling brightly. "I think I hear the children shoving crickets into each other's ears again, so if you excuse me -"

"If we don't kill that girl, you - !" Han Sooyoung cut herself off sharply, almost bursting with tension and a strange, grating feeling I didn't understand. She stepped closer to me and lowered her voice, whispering harshly into my ear. "If that girl doesn't die, there is a 100% chance you die within the week.”

I halted. Han Sooyoung stepped backwards, grimly satisfied. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t look up, but his head casually tilted towards me. 

The oranges and yellows of the campfire bathed the party in a warm light. It created a safe moment in time for everybody. Monsters screeched and calamitous waves churned, but in front of the campfire they seemed far away. Sitting around a campfire after a long day, eating surprisingly well-seasoned meat and offering weak smiles to each other…it contributed very little to survival. A smile saved nobody. But I didn’t know what else could.

The kids huddled next to each other, bickering unmindfully of their volume. There was a scratch on Shin Yoosung’s cheek. I stared at it for too long. 

I spoke quietly, but I didn’t look away from Shin Yoosung. “What is the chance of our victory if I die?”

Han Sooyoung clicked her tongue, expression twisting unhappily. “None of your business.”

“It seems relevant. What is the likelihood of Yoosung-ah’s survival if I die?”

“Do you think you’re some kinda hero or something?” Han Sooyoung hissed. She was only growing more agitated with every word I said. I interpreted the reaction to signify that the girl’s survival rates were high. “You that desperate to act like the main lead? You aren’t the main character! You’re just an early stage side character who jumps in front of the bullet for the actually important characters! You are Obi-Wan Kenobi’ing that girl!”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi was a very popular character.”

“His death traumatized Luke!”

“Luke was experiencing a lot of other traumatic events at the moment,” I said serenely, “and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s sacrifice was necessary in order to kick-start the plot and set Luke onto his path of becoming a Jedi and meeting his real teacher.”

Of course, I had no intention of dying permanently. I still had things to do and I couldn’t do the majority of them if I was permanently dead. It wasn’t the right time to mention this.

“We could have avoided the prequels if Obi-Wan Kenobi had been emotionally available, you know!”

“I liked the Clone Wars,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Don’t you start on that crap again. The OT were the only decent ones.”

“The prequels were more inventive,” I pointed out. “They took more risks and had more ideas. They weren’t as well executed, but the plot was far more interesting and thoughtful. With some work and Maria Lucas’ editing they could have been excellent movies.”

“A movie is not good if it is almost good,” Han Sooyoung said severely. “A movie is good if people like it. The OT is a classic hero’s story that the entire world fell in love with. The prequels were two hour snoozefests. Nobody watches Star Wars for political intrigue .”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked up for the first time, blinking at Han Sooyoung. “There was politics?”

“Let me guess,” Han Sooyoung said. “You put Clone Wars on in the background while you trained. You were barely paying attention. So you have no idea what it’s actually about.” Yoo Joonghyuk quickly returned to his sword. “And yet somehow you can still quote every line of LOTR.”

“English, Korean, and Japanese.”

Han Sooyoung called Yoo Joonghyuk a lot of colorful insults in English in quick succession. Yoo Joonghyuk responded in something that could only liberally be called English, betraying the fact that he undoubtedly learned English and Japanese by online video games. Han Sooyoung’s insults were bizarre, but her English was perfect too. Overly online, even in Ways of Survival.

I only barely understood them. I haven’t spoken or written in English in a decade. I had once worked very hard to learn it and speak it perfectly. I stopped once there was no longer a point. 

“Look, Star Wars isn’t even the point! Okay? Get with it!” Han Sooyoung turned back to me, but Yoo Joonghyuk just looked away. “You don’t know this about me. But I’m a super popular, best selling author. Tropes, plotlines, other media - that’s always been the only way I could make sense of the world. I don’t - I didn’t understand what the hell is wrong with you, so I started trying to cast you as Obi-Wan Kenobi or a side character or whatever. I get Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’m just upset I don’t get you. Okay? Happy now? I admitted it.” 

She glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, biting her lip. “Everybody’s like that, you know. Scenarios and quests and reward items and whatever. The star stream asks the constellations to understand all of this as a story. Because if it’s not a story, then it’s just a bunch of sadsacks suffering. If it’s not a heroic sacrifice it’s just fucking death. It’s not fun anymore. And having fun watching the story of our suffering helps the constellations pretend that their meaningless and eternal existences are cool and fun too.” Han Sooyoung took a deep breath and jabbed a finger at me. “You’re just buying what they’re selling. And they’re selling VIP passes to hell. There is seriously nothing more pathetic than standing in line to buy tickets to your own torture.”

Wow. I couldn’t believe it. 

I had just heard Han Sooyoung’s classic speech about the nature of the star stream and stories. It was a major thematic moment. It was meant to be a speech to the Gourmet Association, but she was giving it directly towards me. Hearing my favorite lines from her mouth was very exciting. She delivered the lines differently than I imagined, though. And there wasn’t meant to be so much Star Wars involved. 

I hummed, pulling a good impression of a normal guy who wasn’t dazzled by this immersive experience. “Are you saying that we aren’t in a story, Han Sooyoung-ssi?”

“Of course we are,” Han Sooyoung said. “That’s the whole problem.”

“Then I think you’re ignoring something. If this is a story, then it’s your own. You are the hero of your own story.” My favorite story. Her story has always been my favorite story in the world. “You have to write your own story. That’s the only way you can write your own ending. I…am writing a story I would like to read.” Shin Yoosung shoved Lee Gilyoung with surprising strength, almost making him topple off the log. “A story where the party kills the child isn’t the kind of story I like, Han Sooyoung-ssi.”

Han Sooyoung stared at me for a long moment. There was nothing around me I wanted to see. Yoo Joonghyuk was pointedly tuning us out, lost in his own thoughts. Han Sooyoung bit her fingernail, nibbling at the worn stubs. Her eyebrow furrowed. It was her thinking pose. When she started biting her fingernail and furrowing her eyebrows, she was always thinking of a brilliant plan.

Slowly, she said, “In the kind of story you’re talking about. One with lots of morals and ethics and boring stuff like that. The protagonists always have to face some ethical dilemma. It’s always like… ‘do this horrible thing or the world is going to blow up’. Doing the horrible thing always makes way more sense than blowing up the stupid world, but the main characters always act as if it’s some big choice. It’s an internal character-based conflict. Most of the time, if they do the bad thing, then they wouldn’t be the heroes we like. It would defeat the point. I never like those conflicts, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s always some sort of third option,” Han Sooyoung said simply. “In the end, the heroes never have to actually choose. There’s always some miracle that saves the heroes from blowing up the world or doing the horrible thing. The heroes can’t do the shitty thing, but the world can’t blow up either, so some million-to-one odds event happens and everything always ends up A-OK in the end. It’s super predictable.”

“If it’s that predictable,” I said, “then why are you so worried?”

“Because the super miracle third option is you dying, asshole!”

So that’s why she was so certain. It made sense to me. Of course, she wasn’t accounting for something important. Probably because she still saw me as a side character. Rude but typical.

“Why don’t you have faith in my million-to-one odds?” I smiled politely, instantly aggro-ing her again. “The more improbable, the more likely that the amazing will happen. Isn’t that the way it goes?”

“Your mystery plan has a problem,” Han Sooyoung said severely. “The star stream and dokkaebi are writing this story. Not us. If we lived in that nice story you’re talking about, then wouldn’t…”

Yoo Joonghyuk sheathed his sword. The glide of metal on leather rang throughout the camp. Swords never made that sound in real life. These days, I can practically hear the onomatopoeias everywhere. Yoo Sangah walked into a room and the ‘sha-la-la’s reverberated in my teeth. 

Silence fell over us. We all looked awkwardly at the ground. I knew what we were seeing and hearing: something that had already happened, something that chased at our heels. That probably played behind Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyelids and wore away at Han Sooyoung’s soul. 

The face of the 41st regression Shin Yoosung when she saw Han Sooyoung. She had been so brokenhearted. 

“Unni?” she had whispered. “Is that what you looked like?”

Han Sooyoung had frozen in shock. She must have recognized the adult Shin Yoosung too. In whatever sideways method they could recognize each other. 

“It’s been so long. You…I’m as old as you were, now.” Jung Heewon had made a leap for Shin Yoosung, sword flashing, but Shin Yoosung waved a hand and a giant dinosaur-like monster had leapt out to barrel into Jung Heewon and send her flying. Shin Yoosung didn’t even look away from Han Sooyoung. “You gave your life for him and he didn’t even care. He used you and tossed you aside. My own unnie…how could he! You never heard what he said, unnie!” Shin Yoosung’s ponytail snapped in a gust of wind, stirred only by her own power. The wind almost knocked me aside, and Yoo Joonghyuk had to leap up and catch me in midair so I wouldn’t go flying. “He said it didn’t matter! Since you always die first!”

“He can be a bit of a bastard like that,” Han Sooyoung had said lightly. She held her hands up in a plea for peace, walking forward with no hesitation - as if she and the 41st regression Shin Yoosung were old friends, reuniting after a very long time. Was she lying? Or did she really know Shin Yoosung? I couldn’t tell. “Joonghyuk-ah’s pretty damn good at playing cold. But I’m alive here and now, so let’s try not to change that -”

“You should hate him!” Shin Yoosung screamed. Her eyes flashed gold, and the monsters encircling her screamed in chorus with her pain. “He always lets you die ! You always die, unnie! I’ve seen it all - hundreds of lifetimes, unnie, you always die ! You’ve never survived, not ever! He never protects you! Don’t protect him!”

Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened, dropping me back onto the ground. His eyes trembled. He couldn’t look away from her, no matter how much he wanted to. 

But Han Sooyoung just smiled, simple and almost sweet. “I know. Probably doesn’t even do his best, that bastard…but I forgive him. I forgive him every time, right? I can tell. Because…I always see myself asking to meet him again next time.”

No matter how many times it took. No matter how many years passed. No matter how many times she died. No matter how many regressions where he didn’t save her, where he let her die, where he abandoned her. She always wanted to see him again in the next life. 

“Don’t forgive the people who can’t keep you alive!” Shin Yoosung screamed, and in the end we were lucky to escape with our lives. 

The actions of the 41st Yoo Joonghyuk bothered the 3rd Yoo Joonghyuk. Only Han Sooyoung and I could see it. He wasn’t the type of person to do such things, and the idea that he would become that type of person in the future disturbed him. It wasn’t easy to learn that you would become a monster. That you would do such things to your own family. Especially to a person such as Yoo Joonghyuk, who loved people more than his heart could bear. 

Maybe he understood. Han Sooyoung definitely did, so maybe she had told him: that only somebody who loved like Yoo Joonghyuk loved could hurt others like Yoo Joonghyuk could. Only somebody who was so full could become so empty. 

Han Sooyoung had always been the useful character who interpreted Yoo Joonghyuk for the audience. But she never had the opportunity to do it for long. Shin Yoosung had seen what I had known for a decade: that Han Sooyoung always died first. 

It always frustrated me. I can’t count the number of comments I wrote to tls123 begging them to keep Han Sooyoung alive to the end. Shin Yoosung hadn’t been completely correct - she had survived in the 999th regression - but it was close. I had always reasoned that the author had shot themselves in the foot making her so OP, and that her presence messed with the power balancing later in the scenarios. Save in the 999th, I don’t think she ever made it to the 80th scenario. A casualty of the narrative. 

It really, really frustrated me. It really…

“I won’t die here,” I said simply. The words dragged Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk from their own memories, and they finally turned to look at me. Han Sooyoung’s eyes were so sad. I wanted to avoid that more than anything. “Because you’ll need my help building that big house, Han Sooyoung-ssi.”

Han Sooyoung’s jaw dropped as Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow. “Who told you about that!”

I smiled beatifically. “Prophecy.”

“What kind of prophecy - hey, don’t you go spreading that around! Don’t you dare embarrass me!” She floundered a little, face flushing. “And - and don’t make Yoo Mia be the only kid surrounded by adults, okay? Kids need siblings to play Smash Bros!”

“Weren’t you the one advocating for child murder ten minutes ago?”

“Mia deserves another little girl to play house with!” Han Sooyoung said severely. I highly doubted she had ever played house in her life. “So don’t do anything stupid! You’re our secret weapon right now, you know. Don’t slack off. Or abandon children! That really fucks them up. You have to build kids big slides in the backyard or you’ll pay a fortune in therapy bills in ten years.”

I was the secret weapon? That explained a lot. I had wondered why she was getting so upset over me dying. Han Sooyoung was an insightful character. She would work hard to keep all of her cards in play. 

“I don’t know if I’d be abandoning them,” I hazarded.

“You would! Don’t you get that?” Han Sooyoung faltered a little, and for half a second she looked as young as she was meant to be. “You would.”

I gave her my best smile, but it only seemed to aggravate her further. “Then I suppose you’ll have to step in as unnie.”

“What! Don’t shove this shit on me -”

“You’re older than Yoo Joonghyuk, aren’t you?” I mused. “Shouldn’t he be calling you noona?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood up, unsheathing his sword. 

“You’re the first man to ever learn the Breaking the Sky school of martial arts but you can’t even learn how to take a joke, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi?”

The sword flew for my head.

There was always time to speak in a book. 

Two Murim martial arts masters could continue an entire conversation while fighting for their lives against an expert master. The superhero could deliver a dozen quips as he backflipped out of danger and punched the bad guy. Nobody ever died silently or suddenly in somebody’s arms. There was always just a little more time.

It was one thing I always envied. Real life wasn’t like that. Another day turns and another person disappears from your life without a sound. The woman behind the cafeteria counter who made your daily lunch - one day she smiles at you, and the next day she is replaced by another anonymous woman. If you had known that day was her last day at work, would you have said something other than ‘thank you’? 

You promise to keep in touch, but you never do. You say ‘see you tomorrow’, but they never come. Your texts are left unanswered. There was no more time.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I died in Han Sooyoung’s arms.The blow I took for her should have killed me instantly, but books didn’t work like that. I had a little time. Saving the life of another person by sacrificing your own always bought you an extra five minutes. 

“Why,” Han Sooyoung whispered. The Fourth Wall protected me from the pain, and I was distantly surprised when my legs gave out and I collapsed fully into Han Sooyoung’s arms. “Why would…”

A battle raged on around us, but I could only see it in my mind’s eye. I heard Yoo Joonghyuk’s power crackle. Lee Gilyoung screamed for a brother. Somewhere on the field, a deep power began to awaken in an abandoned child. 

It was a little embarrassing to admit, but I had rehearsed this. Fantasized about it. I would fantasize about this all of the time. My life was draining from my body, but I had never felt so satisfied. My lines came to my mouth effortlessly. I had put a lot of thought into it - I knew I would have enough time to say them. There was always time in a story. You could always say goodbye.

“You aren’t destined to die first,” I said. Blood pooled in my mouth, making it a little difficult to talk. I didn’t mind. Blood always dripped from the mouth. “You’ll survive this regression. The big house you’ll build…it’ll be beautiful.”

“Goddamn it!” Han Sooyoung screamed. Wow. She even knew her own lines. “Don’t you dare die on me, you motherfucking - !”

Yeah. She hadn’t thanked me even in my fantasies. I knew her too well.

Things were growing a little dark. I had always imagined her beautifully crying face, but it was another relief when the face disappeared. “See you later, Sooyoung.”

“You’re supposed to live in my house too, you absolute asshole !”

That wasn’t right, I thought, a second before I died.

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: aaaaand that’s how I would rewrite all of wos so far whatdyathink

Kdj : …………

Kdj: Is the boyfriend really necessary?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: DUHHHH why would u read smth if there’s no yaoi lmfaoooo. Its soooo hot Loveless is so good have finally you read it yet

Kdj: You made me walk into the weirdest store you asshole -_-

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: BWAH HA HA

Kdj: No I didn’t read it because my aunt saw me with it and I got in so much fucking trouble so thanks for that

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: Sorry….

Kdj: whatever

Kdj: Anyway, Ricardo makes no sense. Is he a Tuxedo Mask type?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: yeah he’s just Tuxedo Mask

Kdj: Derivative as usual

Kdj: :P 

Kdj: but Tuxedo Mask types are gentlemaney and suave. Ricardo’s just really smarmy and slick. Showing up dropping cryptic hints not being helpful and bouncing is supposed to be mysterious and cool. It feels like Ricardo’s doing that just because he’s an asshole?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: yeah isn’t it funny

Kdj: That’s not the kind of guy Joonghyuk-ah needs though! He needs his foil, the sun to his moon. Somebody who makes him laugh and grounds him in the moment. Somebody who always reminds him of his humanity and his mission - the guy should be WHY he’s fighting. He should be by his side no matter what, the only person Joonghyuk-ah can be truly honest and vulnerable with, and represent his softer and more loving side. He is a metaphorical representation of the world that Joonghyuk struggles so hard to achieve. Ricardo just makes him more murdery. The right guy for Joonghyuk should represent the best of humanity, not the worst. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : doesnt need a boyfriend huh

Kdj: This could be like a BFF or something it’s really whatever. Does not matter. It’s about having that emotional counterbalance

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : nahhh ur rite. Foils are *chef’s kiss*. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : but u rnt getting it!!!

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: Sure, his boyfriend could be perfect for him in every way. They could be exact inverses and generic seme/uke and sadboi/sunshine boi. But that would lose the whole point. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: Ships aren’t about how the characters fit together. It’s about what the characters need. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: Joonghyuk-ah’s arc is about what he exchanges in return for power. The more important it is to him the quicker he exchanges it. Remember when he literally ditched Yoo Mia last week? YOO MIA. SHE’S his reason for all of it. If he had somebody who made him truly rly happy in true yaoi manner then eventually he’d always end up ditching them. Anything else is against his character arc, which is bad writing, which is cringe

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: what Joonghyuk needs is somebody who he cant get rid of

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: no matter how hard he tries

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: ricardo sucks so he’s always trying to ditch him constantly all of the time forever. But he can’t. That’s how you show in the story that he’s who Joonghyuk-ah needs. All he needs is someone who won’t leave him

Kdj: point.

Kdj: I guess that’s what’s satisfying as an author…as a reader sometimes I just want him to be cute with somebody. Lmfao I guess it’s silly

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : its not silly!!!! Ur never silly :( 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : end of the day stories are for the reader. What’s the point of reading a story if it just makes you feel bad (and not in the fun way?)

Kdj: wos isnt always great about that……

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: lmfao

Kdj: lmfao. 

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: but thats what fic is for BABY. wos is all angst all the time. In fic you can actually write the characters “””liking each other””” and bantering and having fun. I already have a great idea for a scene where ricardo makes Yoo Joonghyuk watch star wars and jihye finds a lightsaber

Kdj: and kills namwoon

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: and kills namwoon.

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: so come onnnnnnn

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : pleaseeeeeeeee

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : write my fanfic with me :3

Kdj: I’m not much of a writer………..

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : ill write it!!! Ur such a good plotter and ideas guy though. My plots are perfect but u could spice em up i think

Kdj: Your grammar is also. Terrible.

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: so uve said <3

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: ten times <3

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: shut the fuck up <3

Kdj: hahaha i mean

Kdj: I guess if you really need my help………

Kdj : I have some ideas already? There were some points where your outlines got a little confusing so I had some ideas for straightening that out. You just need to plan out everything in advance and think about how the characters make decisions. And keep a good record of your worldbuilding and the rules of the setting and everything. Its not too hard

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: nooooo ur just a genius

Kdj: hahaha

Kdj: I just pretend I’m Yoo Joonghyuk

Kdj: like

Kdj: what would he do?

Kdj: or whatever

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: i walk into the cafeteria i pretend im Yoo Joonghyuk I start flipping tables and punching delinquents

Kdj: hahaha yeah exactly

Kdj: so like yesterday (or this morning i dont remember) my aunt was doing like that Thing with the frying pan ya know so I just thought to myself what would Yoo Joonghyuk do! So it wasn’t a big deal

Kdj: so what plot help did you want exactly?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: I really really really hate your aunt

Kdj: wellll nothing to be done. Anyway plot help?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: I’m gonna stab her

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: stab stab stab stab stab

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: that’ll be me. Stab stab stab.

Kdj: lmfao u totally would…

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: STAB STAB STAB STAB

Kdj: haha would Yoo Joonghyuk stab her too?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: yes but he’s getting in LINE fucker. Stabbbb

Kdj: haha they’ll be nothing left of her

Kdj: stab stab….

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: ur so cute omfg

Kdj: <3

Kdj: speaking of the 100th Demon King I am being chased off the computer

Kdj: I’ll try sneaking onto MSN when she’s asleep….and see if you remember our conversation this time lol

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX : IS SLEEPWALKING SUPPOSED TO WORK LIKE THIS?!?!?!?!??!

Kdj: whoops gotta go

Kdj: See you later, Sooyoung!

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: lmfao later bastard

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: hey bastard

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: if this was wos then ur king name would be Ugliest King

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: King Of Ugly

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: cuz u uglyyyyyy

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: also inb4 whining about doxxing if u didnt want to be doxxed u shouldnt use ur real name idiot

Kdj: ?????

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: Look up, Dokja.

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: hey what’s the math homework?

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: can i copy it

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: plzzzzzzzzzzz

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: thank uuuuuuuuu

Kdj: wanna eat beneath the tree again

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: yup

Chapter Text

“Do you have to look like that?”

The old woman smiled gently, looking for all the world like a wizened mother. Please. My mother could eat her alive. “Would you prefer another form?”

The world blinked, and suddenly Yoo Sangah sat in front of me. She was smiling mysteriously, long red hair flowing to her shoulders, and was wearing a wow . This was a whiplash. “Is this better?”

This was so embarrassing. I knew my face was flushed red. “It’s so much worse, thanks.”

Yoo Sangah laughed, and in another blink Yoo Joonghyuk sat before me. He was wearing a familiar outfit, only ever seen on notebook paper scanned and uploaded proudly to DeviantArt. It had a lot of leather and buttons and zippers and it was pretty convenient that I was in the Underworld, because I deeply wanted to die. “How’s this?”

I wheezed. 

Yoo Joonghyuk laughed, deep and bassy, before blinking again. Another woman sat in front of me. She had cropped thick black hair and a beauty mark on her chin. She was also wearing a cheongsam, cuing a deep desire to die within me.

“Is this what you’re searching for?” Persephone asked. She smiled mysteriously, leaning forward in her chair and propping her pointy chin on her hand. “The living always visit the dead in search of something.”

“There’s nothing to search for.” In any possible sense. I wanted to ask Persephone to change forms again, but I didn’t want to know how much worse it could get. “I need a soul. I need to bring somebody -”

“Yes, I know.” Then why the hell did she ask? “Why aren’t you eating? You’re too skinny.”

I looked down at my food. Without question, it seemed rich and delicious. I felt as if one bite would satisfy me for the rest of my life. When I poked my steak I felt the faint tremors of regret. No. Just no.

The table sagged with the weight of these stories. I had to fight the urge to inspect every plate, to double-check every story. Did I know anybody at this table? Was Persephone trying to trick me into consuming a member of my own life?

I didn’t think so. But I didn’t know what she wanted.

“I hear you’re not supposed to eat in here.”

Persephone smiled, as if she hadn’t noticed the slight dig. “You chase death like a predator, but you run from it like prey. You’re a boy of great contradiction.”

“Can’t you say that of most people?”

“Most people haven’t sent others to the Underworld themselves.” She was talking of the 41st turn Shin Yoosung. That was the person who I had sent to the Underworld, however indirectly. That was the situation I was trying to fix. “Saving a soul is a great responsibility, you know. Life is easily created for men, but for us women it’s a little more difficult.”

My hand clenched the cool silver fork, still dangling in the air. “Rescuing a soul from the Underworld isn’t that easy either. I’ll take responsibility for Shin Yoosung’s soul.”

Persephone just hummed. She slowly cut the steak on her own plate, eyes downcast. She didn’t seem too excited to eat it. Somehow it didn’t seem so appetizing. “Have you ever considered becoming a parent, Dokja?”

“No.”

“That’s a silly thing to lie about.”

This was a silly topic of conversation. I put my fork down, pushing the plate away from me. “Everybody’s thought about starting a family.”

“But not everybody is so lucky.” Persephone slid a piece of steak into her mouth. It disappeared like air, and she swallowed without a sound. “You two wanted to adopt, didn’t you?”

I didn’t say anything. 

“Do you ever think about that life?” 

My throat was dry. “Of course I do.”

Persephone’s fork dug into the steak again, and Han Sooyoung raised a sliver of meat to her lips. “Tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“Us constellations subsist only on dreams.”

I didn’t want to give it to her. I had never voiced this to anybody, and I didn’t want to offer it up on a silver platter for a constellation’s consumption. But I needed her help, and she consumed with such an odd sadness. 

I put my hands on my lap and squeezed. I stared down at the plate, ignoring the body in front of me and the yawning caverns of hell around me. “Sooyoung’s house was always so cold and bare growing up. It wasn’t the sort of house where people laughed. Her parents didn’t live with her, and I was the only person who ever visited. I think she always dreamed of a house where kids laughed and played.”

“Why adoption?” Persephone asked. “You could have had children naturally.”

I listlessly shrugged a shoulder. “She wanted to rescue somebody. I think she liked the idea of being someone’s savior. Not in a bad way or anything…I think she just wanted to prove that she could do what her parents couldn’t.”

“And you?”

“She would say the same thing about me.”

Persephone smiled, and on Han Sooyoung’s face it was soft and sweet. I don’t know how many other people would see Han Sooyoung as sweet, but I always did. Despite everything, she had been an innocent and sheltered child. We had come from different planets, and we fell into each other’s orbits only through monumental coincidence. From my perspective, on the other side of her galaxy, she was a sweet girl.

“Close your eyes,” Persephone said. “Imagine it for me. Tell me about it.” 

This was running only adjacent to my plan. I had walked into this room intending on selling her the promise of a story worthy of a demi-god - a tale of tragic and noble suffering on the battlefield so monumental that it would be etched in the stars. A story powerful enough to last millennia was the only sort of story that the constellations wanted. A constellation from a weakening realm like the Underworld should want a robust story that would return power and influence to the Underworld. Not the dreams of two children.

I considered haggling her for the dream, but you couldn’t sell something of no value. I’d consider it a gift to warm her up for the actual negotiations.

So I closed my eyes, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest. I wrote out a story in my mind, painting little pictures in a cardboard storybook. I described them to her as best as I could, turning each page with a chubby little fist. 

“We live in New York City,” I said slowly. “We thought about LA, but Friends is set in New York City and we liked Friends.”

“You had friends in New York City?”

“It’s a sitcom. A television show.”

“There’s plenty of television shows set in Seoul.”

“Seoul’s not cool. It’s difficult to discuss this with interruptions, Persephone-ssi.”

“I apologize.”

“We have a house in Manhattan.” We had understood vaguely there weren’t a lot of houses in Manhattan, but details like that hadn’t been important. “It’s not modernist or minimalist. It’s very cozy. There are plants everywhere, and giant canvases of stylish paintings on every wall. There’s a Victorian influence - sort of bohemian. It doesn’t look like Koreans live there. We were planning on pretending we were from LA. Oh, and we’re all living under new identities and we faked our deaths and everything. I should have established that.

“Sooyoung’s a best-selling author. She has a big study with every sort of book. I have my own library too, obviously. Every wall is lined with books. I do…I do…” I grasped for whatever stupid career goal I had before falling short. I didn’t remember at all. I quickly made something up. “I edit her books. I’m her agent.” That worked as well as anything. “Neither of us have college degrees, but we didn’t need them. We’re rich. We’ve adopted two kids. They practice kendo and archery after school…the boy practices archery, the girl practices kendo.”

My mental paintbrush halted. I couldn’t remember the characteristics of these blurry and sportsman-like children at all. I tried to sketch out the girl, but she always had blonde hair and a dog. I imagined the boy begging for a dog, but I couldn’t imagine him asking for anything other than a Madagascar hissing cockroach.

The story ground to a halt. I couldn’t think of a single thing. I wasn’t a writer. I wasn’t fifteen and fantasizing about a happy ending with my best and only friend. I couldn’t finish this story. 

It was Sooyoung’s dream. She had recited it to me again and again. Fake our deaths, Manhattan, a family. She had foisted the dream into my hands and forced me to hold it.

I could only imagine one ending for myself. I clung onto Sooyoung’s like a leech. Ways of Survival got me through the day, but Sooyoung’s dream had promised a light at the end of the darkest tunnel. The big house at the end of the scenarios.

My heart could only draw one ending.

“In this world, those children get everything they’ve ever wanted,” I said. “And every dream they have comes true.”

I opened my eyes. Persephone had closed her eyes too, and a faint smile had lingered on her lips. I had painted a dream for her too. She had imagined it with me. 

The goddess was a member of the Gourmet Association. The table before us was laden with dozens of the most impressive and spectacular stories. But Persephone had chosen to sit and experience that half-baked little dream with me. I hadn’t even told it properly. 

Persephone opened her eyes. There was something lighter in her expression, but sadder in her eyes. “I like the ending. Happiness not for you, but for your children…that must be a mother’s only true happiness. I wish…” She fell silent, and it was a long few seconds before she spoke again. “Tell me what you want, Dokja. I’ll help as I can. But in return...tell that story to the soul you search for. Tell her the story until it comes true.”

That was easier than expected. My plans were never easier than expected. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had missed something. Persephone didn’t appear for more than a chapter in Ways of Survival, but I don’t remember her acting like this. Uncertain elements always came back to bite me later. 

“I don’t think Han Sooyoung’s going to back me up on this one,” I said wryly. “She’s still pisse - mad at me for dying in her arms.”

“Quite dramatically.”

“I think she’s more upset about the dramatic part than the dying part.”

“I wonder why you’re single.” Persephone leaned forward, and for the first time I saw the faint shadow of life cross her features. “Now. I don’t make a habit of betting on losing horses. Or wasting my time. I’d like you to prove yourself to me. I have one little quest for you…”

All things told - not the worst experience a living human could have in the Underworld. I wondered if Persephone had gone easy on me because she knew I was preparing to become a parent myself. Sort of. Biyoung would contribute most of the materials. Shin Yoosung would contribute the soul. I honestly just had to fight a giant snake. Maybe men really did have an easier time creating life than women. 

 I did not bring up the question with my mother.

A weird and unnecessary part of me wanted to break the news about the egg, but I knew she would take the news in stride and start asking to meet her grandchild. So there was no point. 

It was strange seeing her again. Somehow, leading an army of female convicts and participating in a tournament to determine king of the world seemed like a natural position for her. I wished her natural position was on the opposite side of the world from me, but I rarely got what I wanted. 

The king selection round table meeting was a pain in the ass, Yoo Joonghyuk’s Leeroy Jenkins act was a greater yet endearing pain in the ass, and having to stare at my mother’s ridiculous mask was the biggest pain in the ass yet. The conversation we had after the meeting was also unwelcome. She was unwelcome. These memories were unwelcome. I wasted an hour staring blankly into the distance before pulling my mind back on track. No time to waste.

The plans had grown unbelievably convoluted and I had no margin for error. I had drawn out hypotheticals for these scenes for ten years, but I hadn’t planned for how severely my presence would skid the whole thing off the rails. I had started spending hours at a time holed up in my tent or a private spot, staring at the tarp ceiling or stars and untangling the winding webs of plans and scenarios in my mind. It wasn’t too different from untangling Sooyoung’s horrible outlines. Sometimes I heard the kids sitting outside my tents loudly hushing anybody who approached the tent and whisper-yelling about how hyung/ahjussi was resting so leave him alone what do you want . 

The guard dogs were missing today, busy learning how to make a shank from a female convict. My mother sat with me instead, easily reading a book as I pulled my best corpse impression and pretended she wasn’t there. I don’t know why she had entered my tent, but I didn’t know why I let her inside either. 

The rustle of her yellowed paperback. The soft brush of her coat against her clothing as she shifted positions. The sound of her breathing. She had been the sole source of comfort in a broken world. Then she became the source of all its pain. 

Or maybe she had always been the source of its pain. She had given birth to me. 

The egg would experience incessant horror and pain from the very first second of its birth. And it would be my fault. A dokkaebi on my side was invaluable, and the egg was already becoming central towards the success of many plans in the future. I was subjecting a tired soul to the greatest pain imaginable because I needed her to do things for me. 

God. At least Bihyoung would be a good parent. 

Sad sentence.

Something brushed aside the heavy flaps of the tent, letting the sound of the camp stream through for a second before falling quiet again. Light footsteps scuffled the packed dirt floor, and I turned onto my side and opened my eyes to see Han Sooyoung entering the tent. 

“I’m back!” Han Sooyoung announced, entirely unnecessarily. “Joonghyuk-ah fucking ditched me two days ago, I think he was antsing to jump back into your loving arms - uh?”

The sight of Han Sooyoung standing in front of my mother was a terrible mindtrip. I saw my mother do a double-take at the sight of the slightly grimy and scuffed woman. I saw Han Sooyoung also do a double take at the sight of the King of Wanderers with her mask off and hanging out with me.

“Sooyoung-ah?” my mother cried. “You’re - my, of course you’re older. And even prettier, too.” She looked between me and Han Sooyoung. I was rapidly scrambling upright, slashing my hand across my neck. “You two were such experts on the book. I knew you would both make it together.” She smiled at Han Sooyoung - small and soft, but undeniably warm. She had always smiled at Sooyoung like that. “So you’re still taking care of my son after all this time…thank you, Sooyoung-ah.”

Han Sooyoung stared at my mother blankly. “Do I know you?”

I finally scrambled to my feet. My mother froze, eyes widening. Quickly - far too quickly, far too unbalanced - I said, “The King of Wanderers! Is my mother! Mother, Han Sooyoung. Han Sooyoung, my mother. I told her about my party, including you, I talked you up a little - Mother, please don’t tell Han Sooyoung-ssi the nice things I say about her, it’s very embarrassing -”

My mother gave me a strange look, but she fell silent. We had always been conspirators. My mother had taught me how to lie. Avoid consequences by lying. Control people by lying. Maintain discipline over your own soul by lying. We always backed each other up in every lie. 

Han Sooyoung never did. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked between us. “You hate acknowledging I exist.”

God bless her chronic habit of disappearing with Yoo Joonghyuk for special best friend missions. Sometimes those pointless filler missions were an annoying digression from the actual plot, but at other times they were a nice relief from the relentlessly depressing plot. Now, in reality, they left me blessedly free of her presence. I had hoped she wouldn’t notice, but Han Sooyoung was the insightful type.

“I avoid lots of people for many reasons!” 

“What book?” Han Sooyoung asked.

My mother sucked in a breath. I felt like I had been punched in the chest.

[The Fourth Wall is reminding you how you got into this situation in the first place!]

Right. The point. 

“I’m sorry. Dokja said you’re both book lovers. I always find books a manual to survivorship in a cold world.” She stood up, taking her mask from the bedside folding table and snapping it back over her face. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Dokja, we’ll speak later.”

Left unsaid: you have a lot of explaining to do, mister. 

Goes to show. Woman looked happier to see Han Sooyoung than me. She had always liked Sooyoung best. They had gotten along like a house on fire. After a certain point it had become deeply depressing to me how similar they were. Sooyoung was half the reason I had visited my mother as often as I did - they kept up some sort of demented book club with each other. 

My mother left without ceremony, leaving Han Sooyoung and I alone together in the tent. I immediately began planning my escape. 

Han Sooyoung immediately made an Avatar and assigned her to stand in front of the exit. Damn. 

Han Sooyoung crossed her arms, fighting her discomfort with the odd experience by slapping on the tough exterior. “Is his lord and highness going to tell me what that was about?”

“I brag to my mother about the company,” I said, making a mental note to grab the ‘Poker Face’ skill sometime soon. I could either stop pathologically lying or I could get superpowers that made it easier, and there was only one efficient choice.  “I’m embarrassed about it.”

Han Sooyoung made a ‘bzzt!’ noise, forming a large X with her arms. “False! You don’t get embarrassed.”

“That’s not quite true.”

“If you were capable of shame you wouldn’t pull those ridiculous stunts.” Han Sooyoung halted, tilting her head. “Pretending to be Yoo Joonghyuk was basically the funniest thing I’d ever seen, so I guess I can give you a pass on that one…but it’s still the ploy of a shameless man! All you do is pull idiot stunts and expect everybody else to clap for you.”

Straight faced, I said, “How many times must I apologize for saving your life?”

“You never apologized !”

“I don’t know why it needs an apology.” The Fourth Wall strengthened in my mind, pulling myself further and further away. “I didn’t fail you. I’m alive and Shin Yoosung is alive. You’re alive. Nothing went wrong. That’s a victory in my book.” 

Han Sooyoung stared at me intently, as if she was trying to parse out my words. I didn’t know why. My words were extremely straightforward. The situation was straightforward. Han Sooyoung was straightforward. She was a direct, honest person. She was loving and kind and cared about her entire party - even Kim Namwoon, much to my dismay. She was the first character to refuse the mission to kill the little people. A hero, in a world short of good people.

She didn’t get upset like this. People didn’t bother her. The smile on her face never faltered. One little death knocked her down, but she always got back up. I had the stupid urge to inform her of that. I’m sorry, Han Sooyoung-ssi, but according to your script you should be saying…

“Why do I care so much?”

I froze. 

Han Sooyoung bit her fingernail, eyebrows furrowed and dark eyes trained on me. I was more prey than predator at that moment. “I figured it was just because Joonghyuk-ah wouldn’t shut up about you. That’s never happened and isn’t supposed to happen, so obviously I’d want the miracle person who gives him a human emotion to stick around. But Lee Seolwha never made me feel like this. It’s me. It’s something in me…and it’s something in you.”

[The Fourth Wall has been working hard today!]

[The Fourth Wall is straining under an incredible weight!]

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It was a good thing my mother had left the room. She’d glare at me for telling such a terrible lie. Han Sooyoung didn’t even dignify it with a response.

“I know I sound like some idiot woman who’s in love with you or something,” Han Sooyoung said, before quickly adding. “I’m not. Only an idiot would fall in love with you. It takes zero sense to fall in love with you. It is asking for pain. Only a masochist would ever do it.”

[The Demon-Like Judge of Fire is jumping up and down!]

“Okay?”

“It would take a stubborn, bull-headed, foolish -”

“I think I’m safe from Lee Hyunsung, Han Sooyoung-ssi.”

“I take it back,” Han Sooyoung said brightly. “I think every idiot should pair up with another idiot and prevent the average IQ of the gene pool from dropping!”

“I suppose I’ll have to adopt, then.”

“Don’t you dare make this worse. You’re already running to the Hell corner for death cigarettes every five seconds. If you make me pick up the slack on your deadbeat ass I’m never forgiving you.”

I adopted a baffled face. “I’ve only died twice. I’m hardly planning on making a habit out of it.”

“I can see the future, you dumbass!” Han Sooyoung yelled, and I was startled into silence.

She closed her mouth abruptly, eyes widening. She hadn’t meant to yell. She hadn’t meant to grow so upset. She didn’t know why she was upset. She only knew that I was planning on asking her to do something she didn’t want to do, and that she would have no choice but to do it.

I coughed a little, motioning her to lower her voice. “Please don’t advertise the future. It’ll ruin the suspense for the rest of us, you know…”

[The Prisoner of the Golden Headband’s ears are pricked!]

[The Demon-Like Judge of Fire is stressing out!]

[The Secretive Plotter is rolling his eyes.]

[Many constellations want to know what’s happening!]

[500 coins have been sponsored.]

[Some constellations are excited about the romantic drama.]

Han Sooyoung’s face crumpled, and for an uncomfortable second she seemed much younger. I always seemed to draw out a younger side of her. It was the same with Yoo Joonghyuk. A part of me still felt jilted that I never got to hear her call him ‘oppa’. 

When she called him by his name in 41st regression, it was a sign that she had truly grown up…that their relationship would never be what it once was. She called him Joonghyuk-ah now, and I never knew what to make of it. 

“I look at you and I feel so sad,” Han Sooyoung said plainly. Something in her face was a little broken-hearted. “You always look so sad…it makes my heart ache. I want to make you feel better. But I can’t figure out how. And it really pisses me off, you know. It really, really pisses me off…”

“It’s not your fault.” I didn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Of course I didn’t! Damn, I’ve been nothing but nice to you.” She actually yelled at me and cursed me out frequently, but that was her definition of nice. “Maybe it’s just pity. That’s probably it. I just pity you. Because you’re a sadsack little man. You’re like a wet kitten. You’re so pathetic it’s making me, the nicest and most caring and dare I say it maternal person alive, feel uncomfortable.” She jabbed a finger at me, propping a hand on her hip. “Stop being sad!”

“Congratulations,” I said. “You did it.”

“Really?”

“You sure did,” I said, straight faced. “I’m cured. I’ll never be sad again.”

“So you’ll change your plans now, right?” Han Sooyoung asked expectantly. “You’re not going to ask me to…”

I didn’t say anything. Hope drained from Han Sooyoung’s face, and her hand fell. We stood in silence for a few seconds, confronted with something in the past and the future that could never be fixed. A moment in the present that couldn’t even be salvaged.

“If you’re really my friend, Han Sooyoung,” I said, “you’ll do this for me.”

She stared at me for a long time. Then she turned on her heel and left. It was an agreement, but it was a deeply resentful one. 

The Han Sooyoung in Ways of Survival always knew what to say. She always had the right words to make her best friend Yoo Joonghyuk feel better - words that always cheered me up too. Han Sooyoung knew how to hold Lee Jihye and assuage her guilt. She even had the knack for saying the right thing to snap Kim Namwoon out of his demonic rages. 

She struggled with powerlessness, but she didn’t freeze. When she was faced with a battle she couldn’t win, she always charged right in. She was never too afraid to approach. She was never afraid of what she might find.

I felt guilty. Very guilty. I cared for the Han Sooyoung here in front of me. But I wished the canon Han Sooyoung was here instead. Yoo Joonghyuk was Yoo Joonghyuk - predictable, steadfast, and ridiculous as ever. But my other favorite character was diverting further and further from her canon personality. She wasn’t the character I had loved anymore.

 But the sight of her adult face drove the memories of the other Han Sooyoungs away. It became easier to spend time with her.

Despite everything, I was thankful for that. 

Kim Dokja was crying.

He was a silent crier. His shoulders didn’t shake, and he didn’t wail or sob. He just sat with his back pressed against the wall, knees brought to his chest and staring distantly forward, as the tears fell. Han Sooyoung had an arm around his shoulders, one hand clasped in his. They were nestled in a hiding spot between the large air conditioner machines, the churning rattle hiding them from the world. 

Kim Dokja couldn’t hear the churn of the machines. He could barely see the sports field in front of them or the kids sitting far away on the bleachers. He understood absently where he was and what he was doing, but it felt as if he was viewing everything through a thick pane of glass. Nothing quite seemed real. Sooyoung’s voice in his ear sounded far away. 

“ - better, because it’ll be just like Friends. We’ll have a big group of friends and hang out in a coffee shop all the time. We can just tell people we’re from LA. Fake identities. I can, like, Photoshop us into pictures in front of the Hollywood sign. I know how to do that.”

Sooyoung’s hand clutched his in a death grip. He could only feel that pressure. 

“The inside of the house is gonna look like 221b Baker Street. All Victorian and bo-ho and everything. I saw this picture on Pinterest of a home library, where the entire wall was a bookshelf. So that’s going to be every wall. Or I guess just the walls in the study and library…otherwise there’s no room for art. We’re going to buy the art from all of our artist friends. It’ll be very bo-ho of us.”

Kim Dokja’s hand clutched at the bruise on his arm, sending aching waves of pain ringing through his body. Sooyoung pried his hand off his arm, voice ratcheting upwards and growing a little frantic. 

“And there’s going to be kid’s toys everywhere, because there’s gonna be three kids. Boy and a girl and a baby. The baby is whatever gender, it’s fine, babies aren’t gendered. The boy does archery and the girl does kendo. And they fight all the time, but they always forgive each other. I think the girl’s blonde and is really into dolphins, but the boy is totally one of those little boys who are way too into bugs…were you too into bugs, Dokja? I bet you were.”

“I don’t want -” Kim Dokja said. “I don’t want -”

“And nobody’s ever going to be mean to those kids,” Sooyoung said loudly, drowning him out. “We’ll hug them every day. Their parents are going to be best friends who like each other. We’ll have them because we want them very much and all three of them are going to know it. We’ll say it every day. Once a month we’ll take a day off from writing the book and we’ll have a picnic by the river. The girl runs around with her puppy and the baby -”

“I can’t! I can’t!” A scream was building in Kim Dokja’s chest, but he didn’t know how to release it. He couldn’t scream even if he wanted to. “I’m gonna - “

“No you aren’t! Shut the fuck up!” Sooyoung released her hold on his hands and gripped him by the forearms. She shook him a little, as if she only had to rattle him back into place. “Yoo Joonghyuk would fight for this, you know! He wouldn’t sit here and cry! If Yoo Joonghyuk can regress three hundred times for his happy ending then you can handle the next two stupid years! Don’t be a baby!”

If Yoo Joonghyuk could do it…

Thinking about Ways of Survival calmed Kim Dokja down. The scream died in his throat, and after a few seconds he was able to stop crying. Sooyoung released him, collapsing back against the wall next to him and heaving a breath as if she had run a marathon. 

“Sorry for calling you a baby,” Sooyoung muttered.

Kim Dokja sniffled, wiping his nose. “I was being a baby.”

“Nah. You deal with a lot.” Sooyoung brought her knees up to her chest too, matching Kim Dokja’s pose exactly. “My problems always feel stupid in comparison.”

“My mom’s in prison and I see her more than you see your mom.”

“I like your mom more than my mom,” Sooyoung said. Kim Dokja made a face, and Sooyoung giggled a little. “What? I think it’s cool she stabbed your dad. I wish I could have stabbed your dad.”

Kim Dokja fidgeted awkwardly. “I don’t want you to go to jail…”

“I’ll stab your aunt too. Double jail.”

“That doesn’t exist.”

“Super jail.”

“That does exist. It’s really nasty.” Kim Dokja leaned in, lowering his voice. “There’s no internet in super jail, you know.”

“Guess I can’t get caught,” Sooyoung said grimly. 

Kim Dokja laughed a little. He could feel the wet grass underneath him. The sun warmed his skin, and a soft wind blew. “You’d sic the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon on her ass. She’d get burnt to a crisp.”

“The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon would eat her!” Han Sooyoung perked up a little, straightening against the wall. “Oh! I decided what my sponsor superpower would be. My character would have bandages all up and down her arm, right? And when she’s ready to fight…” She mimicked grabbing a strip of bandage off her arm and tearing it off. “Her arm erupts into flames! Then she shoots fireballs. That’s how she summons Abyssal Black Flame Dragon.”

“That’s so cool,” Kim Dokja said. He straightened too. He even smiled a little. Han Sooyoung almost cried in relief. Ways of Survival: always worked. “Does she have an activation spell or something?”

“What, like a catchphrase? That’s so cringe.”

“Lee Jihye’s always yelling ‘Charge!’ or ‘Advance!’ and you love her.”

Sooyoung sniffed imperiously. “You’re allowed to yell whatever you want when you have a ghost navy . I want my character to summon an evil undead army too. Oh, and make clones.”

Kim Dokja stared at her blankly. “...like Naruto?”

“Nothing like Naruto.”

“That sounds like Naruto.”

Sooyoung punched Kim Dokja on the arm, making him hiss. “Making OCs is hard, okay? You’d get it if you finally made your own OC! If you finally make a decent character I can write them in with my character. You can read them beating up dokkaebi together.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Kim Dokja pressed a thumb on the bruise absently. He couldn’t feel the pain so much anymore. Or it was easier to ignore it. If he focused, he could make the pain feel very far away and distant. “I don’t care about reading me in the story. I’d rather just read Yoo Joonghyuk…”

“But it’s not you! It’s your character. She’s you but cooler.” Sooyoung settled back against the wall, watching the puffy white clouds drift by. They were particularly round and fluffy today. Like cotton candy…she’d have to put that in somewhere. “And if you don’t like the story, then your character can change it. That’s what fanfic is all about. It’s just rewriting the story into something you like better. Until it has the ending you want.”

Kim Dokja closed his eyes. He sidled closer to Sooyoung until their thighs were touching. A warm presence in the midst of a snowy garden. 

“In Manhattan?” Kim Dokja whispered. 

“Yeah.” Sooyoung leaned her head against his shoulder. Whispers of her coarse black hair brushed his cheek. “The house has three stories. There’s plants everywhere, like hanging ferns and succulents and stuff. The living room has a big spiral staircase with a bannister you can slide down.”

“Is there a piano?”

“Can either of us play the piano?”

“It’ll just be there to look cool.”

“Sure. There’s a useless piano in the living room. Just to look cool.” Sooyoung sighed, and her eyelids fell closed. She was suddenly very tired. That wasn’t unusual - she was always a little tired. “The inside looks just like 221b Baker Street. The library and the study has bookshelves covering every wall. And…maybe the kitchen has a wall that’s just cookbooks. And you’re always tripping over kid’s toys, because they’re always spread out everywhere.”

Quietly, Kim Dokja said, “But we don’t yell at them about it.”

“Nah. We don’t care. We’re cool parents.” Sooyoung yawned, turning to press her cheek against Kim Dokja’s shoulder. “And we have a lot of extra rooms, so all of our friends live with us too. The kids have a ton of aunties and uncles and everything. You and I have lots of friends. It’ll have to be a really big house.”

“In two years,” Kim Dokja said. “In two years we’ll fake our deaths and flee to America.”

“And buy a big house.”

“And buy a big house.”

“See?” Han Sooyoung said. “You aren’t sad anymore.” 

The page ended there.

The final lines ended halfway down the page. The rest were blank. When I flipped the page, the next page was blank too. Every subsequent page in the book was snow white.

I flipped back a few pages and began again. 

“ - better, because it’ll be just like Friends. We’ll have a big group of friends and hang out in a coffee shop all the time. We can just tell people we’re from LA. Fake identities. I can, like, Photoshop us into pictures in front of the Hollywood sign. I know how to do that.”

Sooyoung’s hand clutched his in a death grip. He could only feel that pressure. 

“The inside of the house is gonna look like 221b Baker Street. All Victorian and bo-ho and everything. I saw this picture on Pinterest of a home library, where the entire wall was a bookshelf. So that’s going to be every wall. Or I guess just the walls in the study and library…otherwise there’s no room for art. We’re going to buy the art from all of our artist friends. It’ll be very bo-ho of us.”

I reread the pages again carefully. If you don’t like the ending, read it again. Maybe it would be different this time. 

“In two years,” Kim Dokja said. “In two years we’ll fake our deaths and flee to America.”

“And buy a big house.”

“And buy a big house.”

“See?” Han Sooyoung said. “You aren’t sad anymore.” 

They didn’t fake their deaths. 

Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung never saw America. They never bought a big house together. They never bought a useless piano or decorated their home with plants. The happy ending never came. 

Kim Dokja held on for two years. He was Yoo Joonghyuk, who would persevere through any adversity for the sake of his happy ending beyond the scenarios. Kim Dokja persevered through his own scenarios, bore his own hell, and at the end of his own apocalypse he found…

“In two years,” Kim Dokja said. “In two years we’ll fake our deaths and flee to America.”

“And buy a big house.”

“And buy a big house.”

“See?” Han Sooyoung said. “You aren’t sad anymore.” 

That wasn’t an ending. It was just a promise. 

A useless, pointless, childish promise. 

It never would have happened. Neither of them had any idea how to fake their deaths. They would either live off Sooyoung’s parent’s money or live in poverty. Maybe Sooyoung’s parents would have funded a move, but American citizenships didn’t fall out of the sky. There were no houses in Manhattan and they wouldn’t magically make friends. It had always been silly. Kim Dokja had always known that. 

I had just liked hearing her tell the story. When she told it like that, when she painted such a wonderful picture, even I could believe in it. If she told the story enough times, maybe she could make it real.

I flipped to the beginning and read it again. Maybe this time -

“In two years,” Kim Dokja said. “In two years we’ll fake our deaths and flee to America.”

“And buy a big house.”

“And buy a big house.”

“See?” Han Sooyoung said. “You aren’t sad anymore.” 

I slammed the book shut and threw it at the bookshelf.

A slim hand caught it out of midair, and I was instantly overcome with embarrassment. I was sitting in the middle of an explosion of books. They were thrown everywhere around me, lying face up or crumpled onto the floor. A few books were balanced precariously on the shelves, teetering on the precipice and ready to fall. Some were located much further down the aisle, where I had thrown them in a fit of pique.

Nirvana opened the book, flipping through the last few pages. Nothing in there surprised him, but between all of his incredible life experiences I wasn’t sure what would surprise the guy anymore. 

“Seems like one of those children’s coming of age novels that wins a literary award,” Nirvana proclaimed finally. As if he was such an expert. “It’s sweet.”

“They didn’t even look for her.”

Nirvana silently crouched down next to me. I knew how I must have looked - sitting on the floor, back against a bookshelf, resting my elbows on my kneecaps and hanging my head. I must have seemed like a desperate man.

He didn’t say anything, but I kept talking. Who would he tell? The Outer God? 

“She was constantly skipping school. The school didn’t call her family until she had already missed a week of school. Her family blew it off too. I tried telling them something was wrong. She wasn’t responding to my texts. But nobody listened to me. Her family said she was always running off.”

It was so far away. A decade, a dimension, an apocalypse. A reality and a wall. But it still felt so close. It still felt like yesterday.

“It took two weeks until they declared her missing. Two weeks. They could have spent that time looking for her. Searching for kidnappers. Anything. There wasn’t even a ransom note.”

The bookshelves rattled, loose books falling from the shelves like hail. 

“A jogger found her body in the river a month later.”

Distantly, a bookshelf crashed to the floor. It knocked over the bookshelf in front of it, which knocked down the neighboring bookshelf, until a chain reaction of successive booms and crashes filled my ears.

“There was no funeral. It’s like she never existed.”

Nirvana picked up a book from the floor, flipping through the worn pages. He stopped at one chapter, tilting the page at me.

kdj: and Yoo Joonghyuk could win against Goku if he just had enough prep time

XXXBLACK_FLAME_EMPRESSXXX: THATS BATMAN IDIOT

God, we were cringe.

“A dozen forum posts locked because you couldn’t stop arguing. Comment after comment on Ways of Survival. Three years of IMs and texts…all of the fanfiction and fanart. So much writing on this wall. It’s beautiful.” Nirvana passed a hand over the text, as if he could absorb the records of life into himself. “I wonder if she was reincarnated. Perhaps you two could meet again in another life.”

“It would be somebody else’s story.”

“Don’t you believe in soulmates?” Nirvana asked. It was clear he believed in soulmates. “People who will always reunite, no matter how far their souls are scattered?”

“If I do, will I find her again?”

Nirvana shrugged. 

The library was a mess. I had made such a disaster of my own mind. I never should have opened up these books again. I knew what I would find. I knew how I would react. Why did I do it? I never reread the DMs or emails. I only ever reread that ancient fanfic. Why did I avoid her own words and only read her fanfic?

Because every time I read it, I notice something new. I think about it in a new way. A joke lands differently, or I can trace a character’s turn of phrase back into her own speech. Fiction was a living document. Fiction always changed. Nonfiction stayed the same. The dead never changed. Only her characters lived. 

She was survived only by her characters. Her characters and me.

“The Han Sooyoung character is always the first companion to die in Ways of Survival,” I said. “The 999th regression was her only survival. In a story about railing against fate, Han Sooyoung is always doomed by the narrative.” Like how I was always saved by it. I always scavenged and scraped my way back towards life. Han Sooyoung never did. “It worries me. The ending I search for…it doesn’t work if somebody dies. But Han Sooyoung always dies. There’s no point to any of it if she’s not there.”

I picked up a book, looking at the embossed cover. It read DOKJA AND SOOYOUNG AND JOONGHYUK. I didn’t open it. I didn’t want to know what was inside. 

“No matter how many times I read it, the ending never changes.” I put the book back down, and welcomed the rising rumbles of the library. “Maybe just one more time…”

“I think you have someplace to be, Dokja.”

I picked up another book. The rumble of the library rose into a scream, and I knew it was about to overwhelm us. My own tired mind. “Just one more time…”

“You won’t find her here, Dokja.”

It was true. And I had things to do. I was probably in the middle of a fight right now. I had grown distracted. 

There was nothing worth reading in here. 

The library exploded, and my destroyed life vanished behind the thick walls of memory. 

“So,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, “you and Sooyoung. Are you…?”

I stared at him blankly. Yoo Joonghyuk visibly struggled. I couldn’t tell if he had problems discerning his thoughts, phrasing his thoughts, or getting the words out. Or if he just really didn’t want to talk to me. 

Maybe not the last one. We had grown closer. The others had commented on how frequently Yoo Joonghyuk, Han Sooyoung, and I seemed to spend time together. Maybe it was just a study in contrasts. I once chased after Yoo Joonghyuk, who ignored me. I ignored Han Sooyoung. Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung were best friends who tended to ignore everybody else. Han Sooyoung chased after me. Jung Heewon said that the sheer level of dysfunction between the three of us could float Lee Jihye’s armada.

It was easier to spend time with them now. I looked at Han Sooyoung and saw nobody else. It wasn’t so painful. 

“Are we…?”

“You know.” Yoo Joonghyuk looked down on his cutting board, pushing away the shallots with the edge of his knife and depositing a skinned carrot. “You two have something special.”

You could call our relationship a lot of things, and I suppose special was one of them. “I guess that’s true,” I allowed. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Yoo Joonghyuk spun his knife in his hands and viciously assaulted the carrot. “I’m happy for you two.”

“I thought you didn’t feel happiness,” I teased lightly.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s knife speared the carrot. He had practically stabbed it. That’s not how you cut carrots. “I’m very happy. For you two.”

“I’m…happy you’re happy.” 

“I’m happy that you’re happy I’m happy.”

Was I having a stroke?

Han Sooyoung and I had been hanging out a lot lately. I had wanted some of the sidequest reward items, so we had tag teamed to run the sidequests ourselves sometimes. It was no real loss to him - he definitely had already collected those items the last regression.

“Don’t worry, Yoo Joonghyuk,” I said. “I don’t have anything that you don’t have.”

Yoo Joonghyuk shucked the carrot from the knife and dropped it into the soup. Completely unchopped. Way too aggressively, he said. “I don’t have anything with her. I’ve never had anything with her. Not once.”

…but they went on quests all of the time?

“It’s okay if you do,” I said awkwardly.

“I don’t.”

He was the one constantly stealing my items. I still remembered the Constellation Banquet. Granted, I had also stolen a lot of his items. He was probably still holding a grudge over that. 

“Maybe we can just share,” I said magnanimously. I wouldn’t have volunteered to share my inventory with anybody else. I hope he understood this as a sign of how much I cared for him. And not of my guilt for sniping his things. If Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t feel emotions, I did not feel guilt or shame. “Han Sooyoung and I never mind sharing with you.”

Yoo Joonghyuk almost fell into his soup. 

Chapter Text

Your dead high school female best friend was not the hero of the story.

She was not the hero of any story. Maybe of her own, but her own story tended to cut out at about seventeen before anything remotely remarkable happened. She was probably going places in life, but only because she’d never get there. She never had a boyfriend, mostly  because you had never gotten around to telling her how you felt. Maybe one day, you would always say to yourself. Tomorrow you’d tell her. 

Obviously, one day tomorrow never came. The day where tomorrow never came would always come. Your dead high school female best friend would never be the hero of the story. She was always dead to begin with. At least by chapter three or episode two. Seventeen minutes into the first episode was a good average. 

You had to wonder if the dead female high school best friend was ever sick of this shit.

Did she like you back? Did it matter? Would she have wanted an adventure too? Did it matter? Did she ever occasionally get tired of being endlessly peppy, kind, bubbly, patient, understanding, and loving? Did anybody give a shit if she didn’t feel like dealing with you today? Did it matter?

Your dead high school female best friend appreciates that she is perfect and golden in your memory. Really. It’s very flattering. She likes being remembered as immaculate, flawless, an angel upon Earth, etc. Yes, she would have been the perfect girlfriend if only you had confessed thanks for asking. It’s certainly very kind of you to remember her this way.

But your dead high school female best friend really hopes you remember when she made you buy her pads at the supermarket. Or when she had eaten your favorite snacks that you were saving for a special occasion. She hopes you remember that she didn’t always say the right thing. She didn’t always know how to cheer you up. Honestly, she was kind of bitchy. 

She knows you loved her anyway. You never fell in love with the version of her that lived so perfectly in your memory. You had entered the springtime of your youth with the version of her that had been a little crappy. Maybe she wanted you to remember her as a little crappy.

Only people who were a little crappy and kind of bitchy ever became the good protagonists. Your dead high school best friend had wanted to be her own origin story. But she was dead, and she was yours instead, and if you remembered her a little too perfectly then she’s not really around to complain about it.

Han Sooyoung was not the hero of anybody’s story but her own.

Yoo Joonghyuk seemed older.

His head was on my lap, and I continued stroking his hair as I carefully scrutinized his face. The absent, vapid expression made him seem young and childlike. But I couldn’t mistake the slight wrinkles on his brow or the looseness of his skin. The man was always hundreds of years old, but he rarely made it to this age. He must have learned how to control the regression depression years ago. He wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise. 

“The 450th round.” His hair had been filthy and matted with blood, and I had to use my little ever-refilling canteen in my coat to wash him up a little. “You saw Lee Jihye and Han Sooyoung get married. You thought it would never happen, right? You helped Han Sooyoung pick out the ring.”

Deep oceans of pain filled Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes. I understood. I had cried too.

“The 20th round. The first round where you passed the 40th scenario with no casualties. Do you remember what Han Sooyoung said to you?” I carefully stroked his hair, watching for any signs of consciousness. My words just sank him deeper and deeper. “ ‘Oppa, I like watching the sunsets with you. Let’s make it to the end together’.”

The sun was setting around us. He was down deep, but I knew he could see it. 

“Let’s watch the sunset,” I said. “Alright? Just us.” With a little twist of my heart, I said, “Maybe all three of us can watch it next time.”

His eyes fell to the side, and we sat in silence. That time wouldn’t come for him. This was the last of his scenarios.

The man was a monster who would crush me in the blink of an eye. An emotionless, amoral psychopath who had veered further from humanity than a god. He hated incarnations almost as much as he hated constellations. 

This was my Yoo Joonghyuk. This was the Yoo Joonghyuk I had grown up alongside. 

He wasn’t the Yoo Joonghyuk I knew now. Obviously, the Yoo Joonghyuk of the ‘3rd Regression + Kim Dokja’ was the Yoo Joonghyuk I liked best. But this man with his head on my lap was a teenage boy’s salvation. He had saved my life every day for thirteen years.

This was a pretty shitty way to repay him for everything he did for me, but if he wanted a nice reward he shouldn’t have tried to murder me. It was fair. Probably.

I couldn’t help it. I bent down and rested my forehead on his. He exhaled, and I could feel his hot breath on my hair. His breath was awful. It was the worst breath I had ever smelled. It was completely disgusting. 

“There’s nothing I can do for you now,” I muttered. “If only…”

Have you protected all of the things you want to keep, Kim Dokja?

No. Not at all. A teen girl only smiled at me in my memories. Yoo Joonghyuk had done a better job protecting her than I ever could. At least he had seen her again. I envied him almost nothing, but I envied him that. Why did his Han Sooyoung get to return, and mine never did? It just wasn’t fair. I had to live vicariously through him. 

[The Constellation ‘Lily Blooming in Aquarius’ is warning you!]

Shit.

“What the hell?”

The voice was unfamiliar. I slowly straightened and twisted around, ignoring the two flowers vibrating beside me. Two figures stood at the edge of our camp, baffled and a little disgusted. The voices were unfamiliar, but after a few confused seconds the people were perfectly recognizable. 

“Is this where you’ve been hiding out?” Lee Jihye asked, baffled. She was my age, dressed like a sharp military woman. “You found a fuckin’ boyfriend? You?”

Lee Hyunsung stood next to her, eyes wide. He looked like a grizzled veteran. He sized me up in seconds, and I felt my body tense. Yoo Joonghyuk tensed too, a confused second after I did. “How did…?”

“How’d butcher monster get a lover and I can’t?” Lee Jihye unsheathed her double swords, twirling them in her hands, and I realized just how dangerous she had to be. “Whatever. Maybe killing the traitor’s boyfriend will even our score a bit.”

None of this was correct. On at least five different levels this was incorrect. Unfortunately, I was getting pretty used to that. The archangels were straining against their form, ready to unleash righteous judgment on the weirdly old company, but I just slowly raised a finger to my lips. I forced myself to relax and kept stroking Yoo Joonghyuk’s head. The sheer confusion from Lee Jihye and Lee Hyunsung gave me the right opportunity. 

“Shush,” I said. “You’ll wake him.”

Lee Jihye cursed loudly at me. Fair.

“Fighting me is a fight against both of us,” I said patiently. Yoo Joonghyuk was slowly relaxing again, which was fantastic news for all of our life expectancies. “Do you think you and Lee Hyunsung-ssi will win in a fight against this man?”

Lee Jihye’s expression turned stormy, in a very clear ‘I think I can try!’ energy that was admirable and extremely stupid. Lee Hyunsung, far more thoughtful with the caution of a veteran, slowly put a hand on her shoulder. 

Evenly, he said, “Then it’s a good opportunity to get rid of Lee Jihye and I.”

“Why would I?” I asked. “I’m on your side.” I smiled politely, fending off the spears and arrows of the rampant skepticism from both warriors. “My name is Kim Dokja. I am the only entity in the star stream who has successfully subdued Yoo Joonghyuk. If you take me to your leader, I’ll hand him over to you. You can do to him what you always do with traitors.”

Lee Hyunsung’s hand slowly drifted to his radio. “Let me…report this.”

“Great,” Lee Jihye said unhappily, letting her swords fall. “ Two psychopaths.”

That was fair.

I understood the situation agonizingly slowly.

The apocalypse had begun ten years ago. The scenarios had slowed a few months after the destruction of Eden, and humanity had ground in its heels in a fight of attrition against the rest of the star stream. Every force in the star stream was locked in an essential deadmate against each other, and humanity had fought its cold war for more than five years now. The power of Earth - strong enough to keep the oppressive forces at bay, more than courageous enough to hold its own - could be attributed to the zombie next to me and humanity’s deeply impressive military prowess. Not the prowess of a company or a ragtag nebula - the prowess of humanity itself. 

We hiked for two days until we reached a small city outside of Seoul. Maybe it was once a suburb. Today, it was the home forces of humanity. Giant walls protected its borders and soldiers patrolled its walls, but once Lee Jihye and Lee Hyunsung led us inside I could see so much more. 

Homes. Families. A market and buskers. Children. Not just humans - I recognized survivors of Peace Land, inhabitants of the Industrial Complex, and even inhuman monsters from ruined worlds. The flowers in my pocket perked up at the sight of Eden survivors, and I subtly slid them from my pocket and let them drift onto the ground. They would communicate with their brethren and return to me. 

The Company was the strongest of humanity. They led the fight against the star stream and mobilized humanity’s forces in their eternal cold war. Lee Jihye and Lee Hyunsung were treated like rock stars as we walked down the streets - I leant Yoo Joonghyuk a hoodie to hide his recognizable and somewhat demonic face - but they could only sing the praises of their leader. Apparently every accomplishment, from humanity’s survival to their own personal strength, could be chalked up to her guidance and power. 

A cunning strategist. A brave general. A kind and loyal friend (Lee Jihye glared at Yoo Joonghyuk as she said this). Incredibly cool and fun to be around. Super attractive.

“Let me guess,” I said. “And she’s a genius author.”

“Sure is! How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

They had sent word ahead, and apparently the President of Earth (seriously.) had invited me in for an audience. I was marched unceremoniously into the main headquarters of the resistance, towing Yoo Joonghyuk along with an iron grip on his wrist, and I instantly began clocking the sheer number of survivors running around in the headquarters in this round. There was Han Donghoon, here was Gong Pildu, there was -

The tip of a sword brushed my nose. I skidded to a stop, and Yoo Joonghyuk tensed in my grip. I raised one hand in surrender, adopting my best innocent face, and hoped I looked harmless in comparison to the rest of the room. My eyes traveled along the sword, expecting to see Kim Namwoon at the other end, but when I saw the unhappy face looking at me I froze.

“Who are you?” Jung Heewon asked. Her eyes stayed trained on mine, despite Yoo Joonghyuk’s growing agitation. “What did you do to him?”

“I’m Kim Dokja. Nice to meet you.” No recognition. Was this how Yoo Joonghyuk felt? “I’m here on invitation, so I don’t think your leader wants me dead yet.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened. His breath caught. I rubbed my thumb in calming circles against the pulse in his wrist until he settled again.

“Is that the best argument for your own life you can make?” She wasn’t impressed, but that was typical. “‘Wait ‘til after my lunch meeting?’. You two are well suited for each other.” She glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk for the first time, her face hardening. “You have a lot of nerve walking into here, butcher.”

Obviously, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t respond. I lowered my raised hand and patted him on the shoulder, giving her my best smile. “I’m sure he would be very ashamed if he remotely understood where he was. Can I see your leader now?”

A cool voice sounded from behind us, and I recognized it instantly. “I can lead you to her.”

Another voice snorted - one that I didn’t recognize, but felt so familiar. “I can dump him in the dungeons.”

“I can feed him to the Chimera Dragon,” another voice said.

It would have been a fatal mistake on the battlefield. Nobody who disregarded Jung Heewon’s sword lived to tell the tale. But I couldn’t help it. In some ways, I was more powerless than Yoo Joonghyuk.

I turned around and saw Yoo Sangah standing in a doorway, dressed militaristically and covered in scars. A familiar young woman and an unfamiliar young man stood next to her. The woman was leaning on the young man’s shoulder, chewing gum obnoxiously.

“You know what,” I said faintly, “maybe I’ll take Joonghyuk-ah with me to meet your leader.”

Shin Yoosung straightened, scowling and smacking her gum faster. “As if we’d let him just walk straight in? After what he did? Forget it.”

“Do I get to learn what he did?”

“How do you not know?” Lee Gilyoung asked, crossing his arms. He was an attractive young man, lean but muscled. “Do you think half of humanity dropped dead from tetanus?”

Yikes.

Shin Yoosung cupped a hand around Lee Gilyoung’s ear, whispering loudly. “I heard they’re dating.”

Lee GIlyoung snorted, pushing the grinning Shin Yoosung off his shoulder. “Maybe he has a fetish for mass murderers.”

“It’s the guys with plain faces you have to watch out for,” Lee Jihye said thoughtfully. “The normal looking ones are always freaks.”

Shin Yoosung nodded thoughtfully. “So that’s why it’s so hard to pick Gilyoung out of a crowd…”

“You don’t have to act coy about it,” Lee Gilyoung said. “You should just tell me how many hundreds of spiders you want in your bed.”

Despite everything, I had to hide a smile behind my hand. 1860 rounds and ten years later, they still all played together the same way.

Yoo Sangah clicked her tongue, and all attention snapped to her. She raised an eyebrow at Jung Heewon, who sulkily dropped her sword and resheathed it. Yoo Sangah held up a mobile phone, tapping the screen. “Leader says Yoo Joonghyuk should come too.”

The room erupted into overlapping and loud arguments. It took a few seconds to discern what anybody was saying, much less everybody. 

Maybe it took longer than it should have. Maybe I just didn’t want to hear it. Maybe it was just something I couldn’t bear to understand. 

[IT I S ANO THER’ S WO RLD KIM DOK JA]

“So he can kill her again?” Lee Gilyoung yelled.

“He’ll betray us again!” Shin Yoosung bit out.

“I won’t give him another shot at her,” Jung Heewon said.

“This is a security risk,” Lee Hyunsung said. “A butcher who killed our leader never should…”

“I’ll butcher him!” Lee Jihye snapped. “I’ve always wanted another shot, fucking payback for what he did to the only person who ever tolerated him -”

“Follow me,” Yoo Sangah said.

We followed her. I was a little dazed. 

We stood in a rickety elevator, flashing higher and higher. Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t registered anything. I hadn’t let go of his wrist. Yoo Sangah was standing right there, tapping on her phone and politely pretending to ignore us, but I couldn’t stay silent.

“Why did you kill her?” I asked. 

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t answer. 

“Did you have a good reason?”

He couldn’t…

“But she was alright,” I said. I knew it was just to myself. “So it was probably some form of plot, or a particular gambit…”

“No,” Yoo Sangah said, “he just went insane.” She looked up at me, and for the first time I recognized the long stretch of burn scars around her neck. “Can’t you tell?”

I could.

This was only the 1863rd regression in name. The inclusion of real people bothered me immensely. Even if this was just an alternate version of the 1863rd timeline, this was still Ways of Survival. Yoo Sangah, Jung Heewon, and Lee Gilyoung shouldn’t feature in any version of Ways of Survival. They were sourced from reality, and in reality they had to remain. 

Yoo Joonghyuk had killed Han Sooyoung once. I never reread the chapter, so I couldn’t even remember why. Even that was the Yoo Joonghyuk I loved. He was my hero and my own protagonist, and I had loved him in acceptance of the terrible things he had done. I knew that included his 1299th regression.

But I had mentally written it off. OOC, practically wasn’t canon, let’s just ignore it. 

I’ll have to suck it up and reread the chapter once I had a free moment. It would give some clue. He probably got confused or depressed or psychotic or…something. Possessed by a demon? Something. 

There was also the ‘half of humanity’ bit, but that was mostly unfortunate. 

Yoo Sangah escorted us out of the elevator and led us down a skinny hallway covered in doors. There had to be at least seven in this small hallway. She led us to the final door at the end of the hallway and knocked twice. 

“I’ve brought Yoo Joonghyuk and his companion.”

A muffle voice sounded from inside the door, and Yoo Sangah swung it open. She stepped in front of us, and I quickly pulled Yoo Joonghyuk along behind her.

It was a motel suite. It looked like any other. It was clearly budget, with cheap carpeting coating the floor and a suitcase rack pressed against the far wall. There was a rickety desk next to a minifridge and a wobbly table next to a sink, both covered with stacks of paper and four teetering laptops. 

Han Sooyoung stood in the center of the room. The only surprise was her white coat. I had wondered if she would be 28 or 38, but she was clearly on the younger side. She seemed far more surprised to see me. Her eyes were wide and her body was frozen. She clearly noticed Yoo Joonghyuk, but she only really looked at me. She might have been crying. If she was, then it was silent.

Yoo Sangah frowned, looking between all of us. “Sooyoung-ssi, are you going to tell us - Sooyoung-ssi?”

The moment was broken. Han Sooyoung rearranged her hair, artfully masking the motion of wiping away tears with her white coat, and when she lowered her arm her face was distant and implacable. “Thank you, Sangah-ssi. I can take it from here.”

Yoo Sangah seemed as if she was about to protest, but when Han Sooyoung quirked an eyebrow she stopped short. Her eyes flickered downwards. Then she nodded at us and left the room, clicking the door shut behind her.

Han Sooyoung turned to face me, and although her face was distant something about her was coiled in strange hostility. I had never seen hostility like that in Han Sooyoung before. It didn’t fit well on her small frame.

“Who sent you.”

I would love to truthfully say that nobody sent me. It felt like the correct answer. I could lie, but I was awful at lying to Han Sooyoung. The guilt always got me. I finally settled on saying, “I really mean you no harm. I just sort of ended up here.”

Han Sooyoung’s eyes fixed on Yoo Joonghyuk, who was fighting something deep inside of himself. It would be best for everybody if he lost. “How the hell did you do that to him? What did you do to him?”

“He would have killed me if I hadn’t!” I protested. “Basic self-defense, really. Or do you know another way for an ordinary person like me to save myself from the ‘butcher monster’?”

It was rude, but apparently fair. It also didn’t answer Han Sooyoung’s question, but judging from the curl of her lip she was already judging that I was good at evading questions. “And what sort of ordinary person are you?”

“My name’s Kim Dokja. I’m rather new to this environment, so if -”

“Don’t jerk me around. You know I know your name. Who sent you.” Han Sooyoung’s eyes narrowed as I tried not to sweat. Then why did you ask?! “That Secretive Plotter bastard. Of course. I’m really going to chop his balls off this time. This is too far.”

This was a new record on aggravating strangers into homicide. I smiled weakly, but when she grew even more pissed off I dropped it. “I have more things to say, but I’m worried you won’t believe me. Why don’t we play the question and answer game?”

Han Sooyoung frowned for a second before she looked over at Yoo Joonghyuk, who seemed worryingly aware. “Go lie down in the other room, Joonghyuk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head, and to my surprise and slight panic he spoke. “Sooyoung…he’s…”

“You’re tired, Joonghyuk. Go rest.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at me, and I offered him a weak smile too. “I’ll join you soon. Think happy thoughts for me, okay?”

Han Sooyoung accepted the proposal the second he left the room. The skill snapped into place, and I felt the game structure itself around us like carnies setting up a festival booth. 

“You make fucking him in the head look like child’s play.” Han Sooyoung bared her teeth at me. I couldn’t tell if she was impressed at the feat or protective over Yoo Joonghyuk. He did murder her, so it was probably the former, but… “You take first shot, Dokja .”

“If you insist. Why did Yoo Joonghyuk kill you and half of the remaining humans?”

Han Sooyoung’s eyebrow twitched, and I could see it wasn’t the question she expected me to ask. She straightened an inch, and her shoulders relaxed. “Most people think they know the answer to that question.”

“I got here five minutes ago.” The sensation of not knowing every detail past, present, and future about my current environment was unwelcome and exhausting. “Yoo Sangah said he went insane.”

“He went insane five hundred regressions ago. He just snapped.” Han Sooyoung sighed and dug in my - her - coat pocket for a lighter and cigarettes. I fought the surprise - Han Sooyoung from Ways of Survival didn’t smoke. I thought it was a bad habit. “He was asked to destroy a town in exchange for power to help him kill the constellations. He took the deal. I tried to stop him. He killed me. Tah-dah.”

I could only numbly shake my head. “But Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t do that.”

“Wow, you even sound like him.” Han Sooyoung shrugged, sticking the cigarette in her mouth and flicking the wheel of her lighter. “That man would do anything to advance his goals. Kim Dokja would know that.”

“The last deal Yoo Joonghyuk ever made was in the 999th regression.” That was something Kim Dokja knew. “He stopped trusting anybody powerful enough to give him power. By the 1400th regression he was more powerful than anybody attempting to make a deal with him. That can’t be true.”

“You know I can’t lie in this game. Maybe you don’t know Yoo Joonghyuk as well as you thought you did. I knew him better than anybody, in this life or any life, and he surprises me too.” The end of Han Sooyoung’s cigarette glowed like a small star, and she returned the lighter to her pocket. “Traitor’s stories are the most powerful ones. He was promised a mythic story if he killed me. That’s exactly what he got.” The corner of her lips curled upwards into a smile. “Ended up splitting the prize with me, though. ‘Dreamkiller’ and ‘Dream That Would Not Die’. It was the tipping point that elevated me into a constellation. I ought to thank him.”

Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t do that. I wish I could say it so confidently. He had killed all of his companions at one point or another, usually by sacrificing them or just letting them die. Even Han Sooyoung, his most useful companion, didn’t always make the cut. But out of 1863 regressions he had only killed her once. That had to count for something. 

But Yoo Sangah, Lee Gilyoung, and Jung Heewon had never died by his hand either. Han Sooyoung never wore that white coat. This world was unknown to me. 

How did everybody else navigate this apocalypse not knowing what was happening? Was this what it was like? It was terrible. 

“You don’t seem hostile to him,” I finally said. If I craned my head I could see a brush of black hair on a bed through a crack in the door to the adjacent bedroom. “Most people aren’t so friendly with the men who kill them.”

“Do I look dead to you?” I opened my mouth to answer, but Han Sooyoung barrelled through me. “My turn. What makes the best character in Ways of Survival the best character?”

Completely automatically, I said, “She has a giant flame dragon and can see the future, what else -”

Then the words fully processed, and I realized the implications of what Han Sooyoung had said. Her expression was cold, but she was smoking that cigarette far too fast. That always meant she was worked up over something.

The Han Sooyoung of the 1863rd regression knew Ways of Survival. That should be impossible.

My throat was dry, and my imbalance felt fully off-kilter. “You aren’t supposed to know what Ways of Survival is.”

“Answer the question.”

It was an easy question to answer. It was much harder to answer it to Han Sooyoung’s face. 

I had to look away from her, sticking my hands deeply in my pockets. This was a little embarrassing. The last thing she needed was the ego boost. “She’s the funniest character,” I offered weakly. “She has the coolest and most OP powers. Once she even fought Yoo Joonghyuk and came out the victor. Han Sooyoung’s a total badass.” I couldn’t help but falter. “Han Sooyoung has the biggest heart. She loves Yoo Joonghyuk the most. They’re best friends, and they have the best dynamic. She always has a smile and a quip and words of encouragement. Of course she’s the best. Yoo Joonghyuk will always be my favorite, but…Han Sooyoung is really special to me. She’s great. Just as great as she deserves.”

Han Sooyoung smirked silently. She turned her face away, hiding her expression. After a while, she quietly said, “That’s a pretty good imitation.” 

This was almost growing offensive. “Why can’t I be the real Kim Dokja?” I cried, exasperated. “I can admit I’m not the Kim Dokja of this worldline -”

“There are no Kim Dokjas.”

“Clearly there’s one -”

Slowly, enunciating every syllable, Han Sooyoung said, “There are no Kim Dokjas. Kim Dokja is a real person . We are in a book .”

“How do you know that!” 

“It’s my turn for questions!”

“You’re the one flinging accusations at me-”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Of course I know that! Han Sooyoung knows everything! I know everything!” Han Sooyoung dug her hand in her pocket and withdrew a cracked smartphone, gripping it tightly. “Han Sooyoung can see the future and I have every chapter of Ways of Survival on my phone! Worldlines and parallel universes and time travel and dimension hopping doesn’t happen in real life. Real life is not a worldline. So you are not from a worldline.” I opened my mouth, but she barrelled past me. “Predictive Storyteller makes me practically omniscient. The truth of the worldlines is that impossible things don’t happen. Joonghyuk and I accomplish the improbable every day, but the impossible never happens to us. The chances of some smarmy constellation being an office worker from reality is 0%. Stop bullshitting me, it’s insulting.”

“Is it impossible that you’re wrong?” I cried, exasperated. “You’re just a constellation too, I don’t see why -”

“ Just a constellation?” That had finally pissed her off. Han Sooyoung stood up straighter, and something deep in her cold eyes lit up. “ Just a constellation? Did Secretive Plotter send me the star of a rock? I’m the god-killer constellation who writes the past, present, and future. I’ve fought this war for thousands of years, I hold memories of almost two thousand regressions, and I never gave up on Yoo Joonghyuk. I’m omniscient and you’re annoying. I’m Han Soo-fucking-young. Who are you supposed to be?”

Well. Not that cool. 

She really was Han Sooyoung, and she wasn’t even wrong. My existence was impossible, both metaphysically and statistically. If Yoo Sangah and co exist in this worldline, then I must be the only Kim Dokja in existence. Those of us from reality didn’t exist in the worldlines, but I had never figured out how or why reality and fiction had collided in a big bang to create my worldline. Was my worldline really the only chimera out there?

“Make that your question, then.” I stuck my hands in my own coat’s pockets, searching for confidence I did not feel. “Ask me if I’m real.”

“You’re pretty convinced you’re real and I’m pretty convinced you’re not. Pass.”

“I feel like you’re not giving me a chance. Under the rules of the game -”

“I’m ending the game.” The lightbulbs above our heads disappeared, and I felt the structure around us lift. “I’ve never liked playing by the rules. I’ve never liked bullshit games, either. I’ve always done my own thing.” She took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping it on the floor and grinding it out with her heel. “Nobody in this worldline controls me or tells me what to do. Not even Ways of Survival. Or the dumbass Secretive Plotter.”

Wow. She really was cool. And incorrect: she really wasn’t Han Sooyoung. She resembled the Han Sooyoung from my 3rd regression, and even reminded me of my Han Sooyoung from a very long time ago. It was because they were all contrarians. She was an egotistical, self-important contrarian, and it was a waste of my breath to try and convince her. I should know - she was almost as bad as Yoo Joonghyuk and I.

So I dropped my head, scratching the back of my neck. I slumped my shoulders, allowed defeat to weigh on my back. “Maybe you’re right. The Secretive Plotter…he just dropped me here. Apparently I’m meant to keep an eye on Yoo Joonghyuk. I still don’t really know what’s going on…”

Han Sooyoung used Lie Detection and saw that my words were true. She didn’t seem satisfied or happy at the concession. She just seemed a little older.

She walked back to her desk and dropped herself on her chair, spreading out sheafs of creased paper. She patted her pocket for more cigarettes, but at my stink eye she reluctantly dropped her hand. I took the liberty of sitting across from her, and we let the air conditioning in the motel suite churn the silence.

Some questions you knew you would regret asking. I wasn’t the type of person who always needed answers. I wasn’t even happy in ignorance. Truths were just another burden. But I had never been able to leave the question of Han Sooyoung alone.

“What was Kim Dokja like?”

Han Sooyoung huffed a laugh. She leaned back against her chair, losing all energy to sit up straight, and she picked up her phone from the table. “Was. He’s probably still hanging around somewhere. Living his damn life. Last I heard he’s working some gaming corporate job he hates. I thought gaming jobs were supposed to be fun.”

“Sounds like a loser.”

“Fuck off, he’s doing his best.” Han Sooyoung scrolled through her phone, turning her full attention to the screen. “The first day of the apocalypse I got this email. It had a link to this website. It wasn’t a webnovel website or anything - just this html-ass website, with nothing but a badly formatted webnovel and a comments section. I thought I was dreaming…but then the webnovel began predicting the world. I realized that the webnovel was a manual. A way to survive.”

Just like me. A website instead of a pdf, but otherwise just like me. I didn’t know there was anybody just like me. Much less in the 1863rd regression. 

“You could read the entire webnovel?”

“All of it that existed at the time,” Han Sooyoung said wryly. “The novel was still going when I received it. The most recent update was only chapter one thousand. Drove myself crazy wondering why Yoo Joonghyuk was acting so strangely before I finally got the number out of him.”

“You accomplished all of this with only a thousand chapters?” Not just like me. Granted, it sounded a little insane to say only about one thousand chapters, but that was Ways of Survival for you. “You were working off almost nothing. He was only in his 30th regression.” The regressions really sped up after a while. The last five hundred only got a few chapters in total. 

Wait. Chapter one thousand…

Han Sooyoung smiled softly. Her finger halted over a random line on the screen, and I realized that she was on the Ways of Survival website right now. It really did look very amateurish… “Idiot. It hadn’t finished updating. My second day of the apocalypse, we got a new chapter. A new chapter on the third day. A new chapter on the fourth…chapter 1010 on the fifth. I tried leaving comments asking what the hell was going on, but none of them sent. I could only read.”

Hold on. Wait. “Chapter 1048 was the climax of the Revelator arc. That’s when -”

Han Sooyoung grinned now. It wasn’t a very happy grin - it wasn’t Han Sooyoung’s trademark bright smile that could even cheer up Yoo Joonghyuk - but it was a smile all the same. “The character Han Sooyoung was introduced? Yup. Had a fucking heart attack. Obviously I wasn’t leading some stupid-ass cult based on bullshit prophecies. That first month had been hell on Earth for me. I was just trying to survive…I was so confused. And I was angry. That was the day I truly felt as if I had become a character in this dumbass book. But you know what was real weird, Secretive Plotter’s whatever?”

[The Fourth Wall is reminding you about…]

“The comments section.”

Fuck.

“Every chapter had a comment from the same guy. That’s the kind of guy Kim Dokja was. He got into fights with other commenters sometimes…dipshit. By chapter 700 he was the only commenter. And the comment he left on 1047 was…”

“I know what comment he left on 1047,” I said testily. 

“He had this good idea,” Han Sooyoung said. “For a new character.”

“I get the picture.”

“I wanted to be upset.” Han Sooyoung didn’t look at me. She just traced a finger along the black text on her smartphone - looking at the snowy fields in between. “But after the comment he left on 1045…I was just happy he was commenting at all. Such a loyal reader…maybe that was why the author took his suggestion. The character was…she was pretty good. She had a great power. She could create clones of herself.

“That was the day my power awakened. I was not feeling particularly spunky or optimistic, but Kim Dokja’s idea probably saved my life. Once Han Sooyoung awakened her Record skill, her ability to access her memories of every previous regression…I learned how to save everybody else’s life too.”

I didn’t remember those dark times very well. I loved rereading her introduction - I reread those chapters again and again and again, remembering the thrill of meeting her for the first time - but I didn’t like rereading those comments. These days I didn’t like remembering that I had made them at all. 

“Han Sooyoung. She’s kind of a shitty character.” Han Sooyoung scrolled down a little on the screen, smiling at a line she particularly enjoyed. “A total Mary Sue. Super overpowered. She always gets her way. Everybody respected her and she was a total genius. She was always somehow finding the best items or scoring the best skills. The Predictive Storyteller skill is so broken. No matter what, she always won.” She couldn’t look at me. I couldn’t look away. “If you were really Kim Dokja…I’d thank you. I’d tell you ‘thank you very much’. His character design sucks and his ideas are shitty, but he’s so damn obnoxious he kept me alive.

“Ways of Survival’s Han Sooyoung was Yoo Joonghyuk’s best friend. Every regression, she was his friend - every regression, she refused to abandon him. She understood him too well. She had walked beside him in his pain. And reading her grow to love Yoo Joonghyuk taught me how to connect with mine. It wasn’t just a blueprint to survival…it was a blueprint on getting through to him.” Han Sooyoung exhaled, long and slow. “1862 times she refused to abandon him. My Yoo Joonghyuk is an empty person, but I can’t abandon him either. I know him too well.

“Han Sooyoung is the first to die. She’s a girl doomed by the narrative. But I always knew somebody loved that damn character more than anything. Somebody out there needed me to live. It made me want to survive no matter how hard things got. That’s what I’d tell him. Or maybe I’d just say ‘thank you’.”

“You can pretend I’m him,” I said. “If you wanted. You can say it to me, and we can pretend.”

Han Sooyoung looked up at me for the first time. She couldn’t summon a smile. “You don’t even look like him.”

“Then close your eyes,” I said, “and pretend.”

She closed her eyes.

I stood up from my chair. I walked around the desk and put my hand on her shoulder. I leaned down and kissed her, and she kissed me back with no hesitation. She didn’t open her eyes, and in a silent agreement I closed mine too.

A long time ago Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja told a story starring two very different people. They were just teenagers. Their dreams were haphazard: they wanted to have children, and marriage was a distant afterthought of some compulsory step. They fooled around a few times, because there was something they wanted to express to each other and not even Han Sooyoung knew how to say it. 

They had sex once, on a rainy day in a deserted apartment. It communicated something between them that they hadn’t meant to say. It was something bigger than words - something that belonged only to us, and something I never said again. There was no longer anybody on the other end of the line to hear it, and the story of two people was only told once. I still heard its echoes. 

The kiss between us now was a very different story - starring two very different people from very different worlds. But I still heard the echoes of that old story. 

“You moved on quickly.”

Han Sooyoung and I jerked apart, and we both turned to see Yoo Joonghyuk standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He looked like a wreck, but he also looked sentient. Very sentient. 

“Uh,” Han Sooyoung said, “I wouldn’t call this moving on.”

“Joonhyuk-ah!” I cried, voice ratcheting up an octave. “You’re awake! How - how much of that did you hear, exactly?”

“The novel was shitty and Kim Dokja’s comments were annoying,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. He stared Han Sooyoung down hard, who pointedly looked at the ceiling. “With him? Really?”

“You read my -”

“Uriel said that about you, you know,” Han Sooyoung said. 

“Uriel’s a busybody.”

“Wait,” I said, “were you two - what’s wrong with me?”

“You made me eat dirt.”

“That was a personal choice by you, I think -”

“Did you really?” Han Sooyoung asked, fascinated. “Like, through blackmail?”

“All I had to do was ask,” I said humbly.

“Explanation,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Now.”

“Okay, you have lost all rights to get jealous on me -”

“ Lost all rights ?”

“Now.”

The Apocalypse Dragon. Another universe’s final fight - another universe’s final struggle. It was a universe I had never seen, never loved - populated only by people I didn’t know and could never understand.

“She won’t believe it’s you. She can’t.” Yoo Joonghyuk stood by me, watching humanity rouse itself into action. The long scar over his eye made his expression permanently severe. Judging by a few comments, Han Sooyoung had given it to him. “You two are alike that way.”

I looked at him, fighting confusion. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t seem very impressed with me. One day I would achieve his approval. “I won’t waste my time explaining to a fool.”

“Can’t you convince her?” I asked. “She deserves to know that there’s somebody like her out here. I thought I was the only reader of Ways of Survival. If she just knew…”

“Sooyoung dies first in every regression.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was hard and cold. It was strange to know how much he loved her. It wasn’t something I could ignore. “Sooyoung cannot imagine a world where she survives to the end with you. Do you understand?”

“No,” I lied. “Not at all.”

Yoo Joonghyuk leaned down and kissed me. 

I was too shocked to protect or react. His breath was better - he had brushed his teeth. His lips were cold, like a corpse’s blue flesh, but his body ran warm. It was slow and chaste, and when he separated and straightened his expression wasn’t any warmer. 

“In your world,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “In your timeline. I saw a world where everything is always alright in the end. I saw myself smiling and happy. That is all you have ever wanted for Sooyoung and I. You think you owe me that world, don’t you?”

I couldn’t say anything.

“I do not want anything from you.” His voice was calm and steady, but there was a strange and pure vein of hatred running through his words. “I want you to get out of my way. I will destroy the Final Wall myself.”

“Yoo Joonghyuk, even in the book -”

“You are no longer my commenter. I am no longer your character.” Despite Yoo Joonghuk’s cold words, something hot and real flashed deep inside of his dead eyes. “You must write your own story now.”

He didn’t have to say it. I already knew. I wondered if I had ever known. 

I begged Han Sooyoung to let me stay. She told me I had to go. I don’t know why, but we both felt like we were losing each other all over again.

In the end, Han Sooyoung’s plan succeeded. Yoo Joonghyuk found his own narrative and throttled it towards his own will. Watching him split himself in half and kill himself was surprising to me, but Han Sooyoung just looked satisfied. How could anybody be unsurprised at that?

When I left Han Sooyoung’s 1863rd regression I looked back. I think I was trying to make a story come true. But she just smiled sadly at me instead, and in the end rereading the story one last time didn’t change a damn thing after all. 

Yoo Sangah turned the page. This wasn’t the kind of book she normally read, but if Kim Dokja suggested it then she’d give it a shot. So far it wasn’t very good. Maybe it would get better.

[The mighty dragon croaked a final roar as it began to fall slowly towards Earth. It was falling at incredible speed, and in only a few seconds both the dragon and its rider would land on the ground like a pancake.

But its rider didn’t panic. She started running across the length of the dragon, small feet digging into the gaps between craggy scales. She bolted for the head of the dragon and didn’t stop running, and when she reached the keening dragon’s muzzle she jumped off with all of her might. 

Han Sooyoung went sailing through the air. She could see the whole world stretched out underneath her: its smoggy grey skies and forever burning orange flames. Pterodactyls pinwheeled high in the sky, snapping at her heels. But she could see her friends below her too, gaping open-mouthed as she bravely soared above them.

Despite the amazing sight, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t hesitate. He took off at a run, jumping between the sides of skyscrapers like he was wall-jumping. He coiled his powerful muscles and shot himself forward from the far edge of a distant skyscraper, destroying the concrete beneath his feet, and he went sailing through the air just in time to grab Han Sooyoung from midair.

They floated together in the air for one second, then two. Han Sooyoung was still enraptured by the beautiful sight of Seoul underneath them, but Yoo Joonghyuk could only focus on their safe landing. He finally gave a perfect landing on a far sidewalk, cratering the ground below their feet but leaving both of them unharmed.

“You annoyance,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “That was too dangerous! You could have died.”

But Han Sooyoung just laughed. She threw her hands around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, hugging him tightly. Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened awkwardly. He had never grown used to Han Sooyoung’s affectionate hugs. “I wasn’t scared! I knew you’d catch me, oppa!”

“One day I won’t be able to catch you,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “You can’t rely on me.”

“Then I’ll catch you,” Han Sooyoung said. To her, it was as simple as that. “We can rely on each other, can’t we?”

Yoo Joonghyuk wished it could be that simple. He remembered the 50th regression, where he failed to catch her and she splintered on the pavement. He remembered the 44th regression, where she begged for him to save her even as she bled out on the grass of a distant land. She couldn’t rely on him. 

But he caught her today. She lived one more day. That meant something. It would have to be enough for now.]

Yoo Sangah turned the page.

Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to kill me.

I have seen murder in his eyes many times. I can’t begin to count the number of times Yoo Joonghyuk has threatened to kill me. There was more than one instance where he even seemed to mean it. We’d fought to the grindstone, no holds barred, and we had likely brushed against the possibility of making a mistake we couldn’t take back. 

But I had never seen him like this. This kind of rage in his eyes was new. I couldn’t think of an equivalent moment in the book. Anna Croft’s betrayal hadn’t put that look in his eyes. This was a new variant of hatred.

I probably should have gone with her. He was guaranteed to follow me, but I could have used the time to think of a plan. 

I wouldn’t run. Not from this.

“Please, Yoo Joonghyuk. Just listen to what I have to say.” I fought the urge to back up, to look defensive. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t even staring at me - he was just looking at the empty maw of the portal, as if he was expecting me to run. “We’re still companions, aren’t we? You’ve never liked hurting your companions.”

“That was in the past.” I could barely understand the icy rage threaded through his words. I had never seen him so cold. “Do not presume you know me.”

Time to know him. I needed the right thing to say. But when I attempted to activate Omniscient Reader it completely failed, and I realized far too late that Yoo Joonghyuk had gone beyond anything I could read. 

“Were you bored, Kim Dokja?” Yoo Joonghyuk stepped forward again, absolute zero. “Where did you enjoy consuming my suffering? The laundromat? The bathroom at work?”

“The train.” My voice was small. That wasn’t my intention. “My commute to work. Enough time to reread the last two chapters and read the new update.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword glinted in the pale sun. His face only grew more dangerous. “Updates. A story 1863 lifetimes long was serial. And how much did you pay for it, Kim Dokja?”

“Yoo Joonghyuk, look -”

“How much did you pay for my life, Kim Dokja?”

I didn’t know what to say. I should tell him the number. But I couldn’t even remember it. The amount of won - coins - that I paid over the years was likely nothing in comparison to what the constellations here and now spent on us. But that was far from the point. That wouldn’t protect me.

He was betrayed and infuriated and deeply alone. But these were the questions he asked: where I had read it, how much it had cost. It didn’t matter if the story was serialized or not. So why would he care? Why did he seek to understand these little corners of my life - my relationship with him, such as it had ever been?

[Your degree of understanding on the applicable individual is increasing gradually bit by bit]. 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s soul washed over me. His black feelings and his churning waters. It drowned everything. The nuances of the situation, the fact that he had no idea how much that story had meant to me. It wasn’t important. I was no different from the constellations.

[Fruit of Good and Evil is influencing your emotions]

That fruit was the greatest punishment in the star stream. 

[The Fourth Wall is curling up!]

A hateful sword descended upon me.

I had fucked up. I deserved this. I was nothing but mistakes. Somebody like me could never create that happy ending, never grasp it. It had been a fool’s errand from the start. Maybe the big house was only possible without me -

“Are you children ?”

My vision was filled with the back of Han Sooyoung. She was standing in front of me, brandishing one of her daggers and intercepting Yoo Joonghyuk’s blade where it fell. Very few incarnations in the Star Stream could stop Yoo Joonghyuk’s blade short with only a dagger. But Han Sooyoung had always been able to stop the both of us short. 

“How dare you take his side.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword shook on Han Sooyoung’s dagger, but the blades remained locked in place. “He did this to you as well.”

No. He was about to tell her. Shit, shit -

“What, he read a book? Is that his crime? You can’t stop allowing your feelings to cloud your judgment.” Han Sooyoung put her hand on Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword and lightly pushed it to the side. He allowed her to do so, finally lowering his sword. “Beating each other up isn’t a conversation, it’s just venting. I deserve to say my piece to him too. Don’t I?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared fiercely at her. She stuck out her tongue. Yoo Joonghyuk’s lip curled and he turned away. Those two had never spoken the language of violence. Mostly just bickering. 

I had no idea Han Sooyoung had learned the truth. I had no idea the situation could have grown worse. Her, above all others - the thought of her knowing that…

“Hey, Kim Dokja. I got a shitton of questions, but here’s the biggest one.” Han Sooyoung turned to me, spinning her dagger dangerously. This time I really did back up. “Why would you read such a crappy novel? Its prose is clunky and its plot is overly convoluted. And it’s, like, a million words. It must have taken years to finish.”

I desperately wanted to defend Ways of Survival. I absolutely could not. Yet again, I had nothing to say. I didn’t understand what was going through her mind. I half wanted to use Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, but my understanding of Han Sooyoung had never been sufficient no matter how much time passed. It was inconvenient, but some part of me was glad. 

“Thirteen,” I mumbled. Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “I read it every day for thirteen years.”

“That’s insane,” Han Sooyoung said. She just seemed impressed. “Why the hell would you do that?”

I hadn’t done it for a reason remotely explicable. They couldn’t understand. And it would reveal too much. I had to be a hypocrite in that way.

I just shook my head helplessly. “It was the only thing left in my world.”

“So you are pathetic as well,” Yoo Joonghyuk said bluntly. I flinched. “It was never us that you loved. You loved a mirror. Fiction. Words are no substitute for a human being. Stand aside, Sooyoung. I will show Kim Dokja what a human being can do.”

“How do you think I feel?” Han Sooyoung cried. “I can’t believe Kim Dokja resented me for all that time just because I wasn’t some stupidly peppy teenager! At least he liked you for you!”

“I didn’t resent you!” I cried. This, at least, I could say. “I just - I wasn’t - and she’s not stupid!”

“Are you serious? You’re still defending a fictional character over me?” Han Sooyoung turned around, and for the first time I had made her mad. “That silly kid in that badly written story isn’t me ! You know that! Why do you pretend you don’t get it?”

For the first time, I realized that I had.

I had accepted it a long time ago. When I began looking at Han Sooyoung’s face and only seeing Han Sooyoung - when I found it within myself to smile at her and feel no pain - I had accepted it. 

When I had met the 1863’s Han Sooyoung. When I realized that she and Yoo Joonghyuk must have been lovers at one point in time. When something began to stir deep inside of me that the Fourth Wall suffocated again and again. That feeling was its own regressor: no matter how many times I killed it, it always returned the next day.

“I wanted her here instead for a long time,” I confessed. But the worst part was - “After a while I didn’t know who I was betraying. Even so, Sooyoung.” The worst confession of all could only be - “I want my ending to be with you.”

Han Sooyoung’s expression crumpled. But Yoo Joonghyuk looked furious.

No. Not furious. Through Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, I felt a stream of emotions I could barely understand. They were darker than I had ever felt. More tumultuous than I could even imagine. There was something strange within them, something that had once been a fruit as dangerous as the Fruit of Good and Evil, rapidly souring and turning rotten. The smell was unbearable. Whatever Yoo Joonghyuk was feeling - he could not bear it.

Yoo Joonghyuk dashed forward, blade glinting in the sun, and it was only Han Sooyoung’s predictive reflexes that jolted her dagger upwards to block the blow from behind. She turned around in the same movement, flaring her dagger again as Yoo Joonghyuk threw blow after blow at her. They never held conversations like this. But Yoo Joonghyuk had nothing to say - nothing that could be conveyed in words. Everything had failed him. 

“Calm down!” Han Sooyoung cried furiously. “Use your head, Joonghyuk! The sacrifices Dokja’s made for us, how deeply his pain runs - that’s not a fake love! People can love more than one person at the same time -”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword refuted her statement. Or perhaps it simply could not hear it.

“I know he’s a liar!” Han Sooyoung barely dodged a sweeping cut, dancing away from him with reflexes born of a future moment. She barely held him off from me. She knew I could not move. “I know he’s a smarmy, secretive, untrustworthy cheat! But what about everything he’s done for you? Would somebody sacrifice himself time after time for something so little as a character? Could a character hurt him like I hurt him?” She dodged his blade with less than a centimeter to spare, a strand of her hair cut cleanly from her scalp. “The book wasn’t his world, genius! It was us -”

A burst of magical energy exploded from their locked blades. Their stories fought each other, locked on even ground - giant stories they shared, parallel paths that they walked, equal yet opposite people writing a story together. Their stories were locked in a perfect stalemate. 

[Story ‘Companions in Life and Death’ is crawling back to you with all its strength!]

“Huh?” Han Sooyoung said. 

[Story ‘A Dream Deferred’ is crying somewhere far away!]

[Story ‘Dreamkiller’ is rejecting ‘A Dream Deferred’’s tale!]

The two stories flared against each other, powerful and bright, but they were perfect complements for each other. They choked each other out, and their power subsided.

[Story ‘Through The Looking Glass’ is self-reflecting!]

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened.

[Story ‘Your Dead Male Love Interest That’s Your Entire Personality’ is trying to tell you something from a distant place!]

A story was born around me. Or maybe it had always existed, and it was finally ready to show itself to us.

[Story ‘Your Dead Female High School Best Friend’ is still crying, after all this time!’]

Han Sooyoung began to turn back to me. Eyes wide, a question on her lips.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s blade came down on her. 

He stabbed her in the heart. The sword descended with such power that it passed cleanly through her body and out through her back. Han Sooyoung’s body fell backwards with the blow, falling directly into my hastily outstretched arms. 

The sword cut me too. It was a small cut, but deep. The blade had scraped against my stomach, and the wound began bleeding. Not stories - just blood, thick and red. 

I fell down onto my knees. Han Sooyoung’s body fell with me, and I just barely managed to lay her down on the ground next to me. She was still half in my arms. Her face was pale, and she wasn’t breathing. I shook her a little, even though I knew this. Yoo Joonghyuk stood over us, unrepentant.

I looked up at him. I didn’t know why, but he suddenly seemed disturbed.

There must have been something in my eyes. It must have spoken loudly.

“Stand up and draw your sword.” Yoo Joonghyuk pointed his sword at me, over Han Sooyoung’s cooling corpse. It hovered only inches from my nose. “We aren’t done here.”

Words failed.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s brow furrowed. “Are you stupid? We aren’t done here.”

I never reread the 1299th regression. I didn’t remember what had happened. For a brief, insane second, I convinced myself that the chapter had depicted this moment. That Yoo Joonghyuk had taken revenge on Kim Dokja for being a terrible person by killing Han Sooyoung. That this was the only situation in which he would ever kill Han Sooyoung - if Kim Dokja was to blame after all. 

Words finally rose within me again. They were the only words I had ever said - the only thing I had ever felt, holding Han Sooyoung’s cooling body close to me. They had found her in a river. My shirt was wet.

“No. No. No.” 

The disturbed expression on Yoo Joonghyuk’s grew. His eyebrow twitched in something that, in a distant situation, could have been worry. “This is not how you behave when somebody dies.”

[The Fourth Wall is shaking apart!]

“You don’t do this.” I heard my voice distantly, as if somebody far away was speaking. It was very calm. Yoo Joonghyuk steadied his grip on his sword. “You kill her once, in the 1299th regression. But that’s not canon. It’s OOC.” Yoo Joonghyuk mouthed the word ‘OOC’ to himself. “Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t do that. That’s not his character. That’s not who he is.”

“You don’t know who I am.”

I didn’t. I had known Han Sooyoung - even the Han Sooyoung here, even the Han Sooyoung within the cooling body half-cradled in my arms - but I had never known him.

That would make this a lot easier. 

I gently lowered the body, setting it aside. I grabbed my fallen sword and stood up. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened, and I realized too late that a great deal of very powerful stories were howling for blood. 

This wouldn’t do anything for her. But it had never been about that. 

[Giant Story, ‘Demon Realm’s Spring’, has begun its storytelling.]

“I am going to kill you.” Judging by the look on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, he could see that I meant it. “Goodbye, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

I could pull a 998th regression. Watch her die and lose the will to live. Not kill myself - Yoo Joonghyuk would never do that, and I always knew that it had never been within myself either - but I could find some convenient way to die. It would be useful. I could probably even convince myself that it was necessary.

Yoo Joonghyuk and I crossed blades. Our stories howled at each other. There was nothing said between us. My sword only sobbed. My eyes only screamed. 

Yoo Joonghyuk only said one thing. My story pushed against his and he was blown back, and he took just a second to let his stories gleam over his wounds and fortify his strength.

“You love her.” 

“So do you,” I said, leaping at him.

They were pointless things to say. They were the only two sentences that didn’t deserve to be put into words. 

Yoo Joonghyuk had convinced himself a long time ago that I was in love with Han Sooyoung. I didn’t know why and I didn’t care. His mind skirted frequently around the topic, and it always made him act strangely. He didn’t think I was good enough for her. He thought I would only fail her. I never cleared up the misconception. I couldn’t tell him the truth - and nothing I said would make any sense without the most important fact about myself that I always hid.

Yoo Joonghyuk was eternally between whatever strange relationship and unplaceable feelings Sooyoung and I shared. He had always been the bridge between us - the character that allowed us to speak to each other, comfort each other, create something anew. He had helped me tell Sooyoung things I could never speak out loud, and Sooyoung had written the words from his mouth that could always comfort me. The art we had created together was the vehicle for the only unfiltered and complete synthesis two human beings could ever have.

We wrote on that wall to each other. We never stopped. That wall had never been the separation between us. It was the strongest wall in the castle we built in the sky. Ways of Survival was how we had loved each other. 

Sooyoung left me. They found her body in a river a month later. There had been no funeral. Nobody spoke of her again. I was left with only Yoo Joonghyuk. All I had left of her was Yoo Joonghyuk. 

That was our way of living. I spoke through Yoo Joonghyuk and he was voiceless. 

“You lack conviction. I shall do it myself.”

As always, we were closely matched. Our fight had wore on until we both collapsed, cutting each other away in body and soul. We were evenly matched, but Yoo Joonghyuk was stronger than I - he still had the power to pull himself upwards from the ground, to rise unsteadily to his feet. I didn’t have the energy to do the same. Or perhaps the will. My will was…despite everything, my will was…

“Hey. Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood over me, ready to lift his sword and finish it. He would finish more than he knew. But maybe it deserved to end. 

“You knew I wasn’t a prophet. I couldn’t see the future. A prophet…can’t live in the past like I do.”

I suppose I had never really introduced myself. Nobody had ever truly known me.

“I’m not the ‘Demon King of Salvation’. In truth, I’ve never saved anybody. I’m not ‘King of a Kingless World’ either. I’ve never made a very good leader. These stories…they’re a bit too flattering, aren’t they?”

My stories extinguished themselves like a candle flame winking into darkness. Or a star in the night sky disappearing. My wings and horns disappeared, and I no longer even held the protection of calling myself a demon.

“My name is Kim Dokja. I’m twenty eight - no, I guess I’m twenty nine now. I worked for a game company. I was a QA person. I was good at it, but I didn’t really like it. I didn’t like anything. Just reading web novels…”

I shuddered a deep breath. I had never told this story before. But I needed him to know.

“I’m not married or anything. I’ve only fallen in love once. A long time ago, I met somebody who saved me. She’s gone now. She was killed. I guess I never really got over it.” I huffed a laugh, short and broken. “That’s me. A sad person. Are you sad too? Who are you, Yoo Joonghyuk?”

I had never asked. 

“I am Yoo Joonghyuk. A former regressor.”

Wish he had given a more interesting answer, I thought to myself, a second before his blade pierced my heart. 

Chapter 1009: Ep. 201 - Yesterday’s Future

Kdj: 

Another great chapter Author-nim!!! The action scenes have been really great lately. Joonghyuk’s hard work with the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint last regression has really been paying off - the Splitting the Atom special technique is just too cool. Are we ever going to get more background on the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint? I can’t help but feel like she has this whole inner life and past going on…just something to think about! Maybe she’s living in exile?

My friend would like some more descriptions of Joonghyuk’s outfits. It’s for our fanart. We’ll put it on DeviantArt and link it in a comment here if you want. No pressure though!

Chapter 1013: Ep. 201 - Yesterday’s Future

Kdj: 

Great chapter as usual! Not much happened today tbh but I know that’s how set-up chapters are. I laughed out loud when Lee Jihye tossed Kim Namwoon onto the subway tracks. Your comedy is always so dry but it’s great.

I really needed the laugh: my life has a lot of stuff going on right now and I’m kind of stressed out. These chapters are still the highlight of my day.

Chapter 1045: Ep. 204 - Empire of the False King

Kdj: 

Thanks for the great chapter. This is really the best story in the world and I wish more people liked it like I like it. Its really amazing and you should never stop writing even when nobody out there recognizes you or knows you exist. There were two people out there who loved your story very much and that will never change. Even if you move to new stories or different websites please keep writing because I will always be cheering for you. Goodbye. 

tls123: 

Thank you for your comments. Reading them has always been the best part of writing this story. I’m reliant on your suggestions and ideas for future arcs. It would be very difficult to finish this story without you. I’m actually stumped on how to finish up this revelator arc - do you have any ideas? I want to do a plot twist, but plot twists should have foreshadowing…what do you think, kdj?

Kdj: 

I can’t help anymore I’m sorry

tls123: 

Then please just let me know if the next chapter made you happy. That is all an author needs from a reader.

Chapter 1046: Ep. 204 - Empire of the False King

Kdj: 

I liked this chapter very much. I’m sorry, it couldn’t make me happy. But it let me forget about a lot of things for a little while, and that’s really the most you can do. After this comment I’m going to go back and reread this story from the beginning until they release me. Lots of nostalgia…

I’ve thought about your problem very hard. I don’t have anything else to do lol. It took a while but I finally have an idea. I don’t know if it’s a good idea, and it’s kind of self-indulgent. 

Actually, never mind. The idea sucks lol. Thanks for the chapter, time to start rereading. 

tls123: 

Welcome back. What’s the idea? 

Kdj: 

I should edit and delete that comment lol. Never mind. It’s dumb. 

tls123: 

I really want to hear it. 

Kdj: 

It’s really arrogant and annoying of me to constantly tell you how to do your job, isn’t it? I’m really just the reader here lol. You’re a great author. I just want to read your ideas. 

I’m on chapter 50 of the reread, btw. Mannnnn I forgot how much NICER Yoo Joonghyuk used to be. He was so sweet! Whatever happened to that?

tls123: 

I think of it in a different way. In my eyes, a reader creates a story just as much as an author does. Reading feels passive, but I don’t think it is. Every reader is a unique person, so they have to interpret the story based on their own lives and experiences. That act of interpretation and effort to understand another person’s viewpoint is the difficult job of a reader. After reading my story for so long, I think you might understand my viewpoint very well…but our viewpoints will never be the same, because we are two different people. No person can understand another’s viewpoint completely, without misunderstanding or loss. But I think the reader and the author understand each other better than anybody else. A reader can save an author from loneliness. 

Despite his struggles, Yoo Joonghyuk is still the same person deep inside. He does lose a lot of his naivete and sweetness, but I would argue that he is still kind. He just loses sight of how to show it.

kdj: 

I never thought about it like that. You’re pretty smart, Author-nim. Reading has always saved me - I never thought that I could save somebody else just by reading. I like that a lot.

So if you really want to know my stupid idea. I was thinking that the story could be shaken up a little. The leader of the cult of revelators is really obviously Gong Pildu, but what if it was somebody nobody would expect? I think this would be a really cool way to introduce a new recurring character. Most good stories introduce new characters throughout the story to keep things fresh and exciting. The strength of Ways of Survival has always been its great supporting cast, so why not lean into that?

I think the new character should be a foil for Yoo Joonghyuk. He’s so stiff and quiet all the time, and none of the other characters really challenge him or force him to confront himself. A new character (I was thinking maybe an 18yo girl from Seoul?) who pushes Yoo Joonghyuk outside of his comfort zone would be great for his character arc. They could even be best friends I think! I’ve been thinking that Yoo Joonghyuk really needs a best friend, somebody who stands at his level and who can fight back to back with him. I know he loves Yoo Mia, but we don’t get to see a lot of her - wouldn’t it be really humanizing for him to have a super cool best friend who he loves a lot?

I spent ages thinking about her powerset too. I think her sponsor’s the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon (bc they’re both punk). Her weapon is a dagger but she can make flames from her hands if she rips off the bandages wrapped around her arms, in kind of a mage/rogue way. I think her special superpower is making clones of herself, so she’s like a one woman army. I really liked your comments on being an author - maybe she’s an author too? I think she needs some kind of author related superpower. I’ll workshop that one. 

Design wise…she has coarse black hair cropped to her chin. She’s skinny and very very pretty, but in a punk way. She’s not very feminine but she has a cute side. She has a beauty mark under her eye and eyes that always look very calculating. I don’t know how you feel about gay people Author-nim but wouldn’t it be good representation if she was bisexual or something? WOS is kinda short on gay characters. I think of her name as Han Sooyoung but you can change that if you want…

You said that Yoo Joonghyuk is kind, but he’s losing sight of how to show it. Maybe he can show it to her? So the audience knows that he’s still a good person. That’s my idea anyway. You’re the author so I’m sure you could do it better, but I think this character would be a great addition to your story.

Chapter 1047: Ep. 204 - Empire of the False King

kdj: 

Great chapter yet again. Sorry don’t have much time to talk my taxi’s going to be here any minute. But I have a lot more ideas for Han Sooyoung, if you’re interested…I’ll write them up later maybe.

Chapter 1048: Ep. 205 - The Predictive Storyteller

kdj: 

NO WAY!!!!!! NO WAY!!!!!!! OMFG YOU REALLY DID IT!!!

“The girl looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk and smiled mischievously. She had thick black hair cropped to her chin and a beauty mark underneath her eye. She would have looked like just another popular and cute Korean schoolgirl if it wasn’t for the twin daggers at her hips and the dangerous glint in her eyes” IT’S HER IT’S HER RIGHT?? DEFINITELY HER???? OMFGGGGGGG

AAAA What a cliffhanger!! I’m so excited for the update tomorrow!! I can’t remember the last time I was so excited for a new day hahahaha YESSSSSSSSSSS.

Chapter 1049: Ep. 205 - The Predictive Storyteller

kdj: 

I LOVED THIS. 

As always you’ve made such a complex and multi-faceted character and I can tell it already. Han Sooyoung is so funny and cool and badass but she also just really obviously has this vulnerable side??? That note about her parents and twin brother dying in the first scenario was so sad. But it was so smart of her to survive the first scenario by killing her brother’s pet spider. I wonder how many people saw through that loophole too? Nobody said it had to be a person. That’s the little details a character like Han Sooyoung picks up on. 

You can really tell that she’s struggling to cope with the loss of her family, and it makes so much sense that she just lost a brother. Yoo Joonghyuk is missing a little sister, she’s missing a twin brother - it would make sense that she’s looking for somebody to care about and somebody to care about her. Obviously she’d never say that - she’s way too independent and proud to reveal such vulnerability. But if you read closely then her inner feelings are really obvious. That’s such good writing. The way that she still has a smile on her face and does her best despite her hardships is so freaking inspirational. Yoo Joonghyuk refuses to give up on his goals, but Han Sooyoung seems like she refuses to give up on a happy future. 

And Predictive Storytelling??? OMFG such a cool power. I would never have thought of that. Can I give my own ideas about the power? You don’t have to use them, obviously, I’m just having so much fun thinking about this. I can’t wait to learn more about this character. 

Writing this comment, I’m smiling. You don’t know how rare that is for me, haha…thank you. Thank you so much. 

tls123: 

Thank you for your idea. I liked the character very much. I have big plans for her in the future. Her path won’t be easy, but I have no doubt that she will persevere. 

With this story, Han Sooyoung will surely survive. 

“I never understood that last remark.”

Yoo Sangah and I sat against a bookcase. We were in the deep recesses of the library, far away from everything but endlessly uninteresting books. We were isolated, but I couldn’t feel alone sitting next to Yoo Sangah. She always made me feel as if there was somebody on my side.

“It’s interesting,” Yoo Sangah agreed. She casually flipped through the depressingly thick book. There was stack after stack of books lined up next to her on the library floor. All of the books were accounts of my life. I had walked in on her reading quite possibly the worst series of online comments I had ever made. She had confessed that somehow these comments were far more interesting than the work itself. Should have figured that she was the kind who preferred a biography over fantasy. “You told Nirvana that Han Sooyoung is doomed in the narrative. If I was this author…I wouldn’t work so hard to help you live by writing a character who always died.”

I didn’t like to think about it that way. It was very embarrassing. But I knew Yoo Sangah was right. That author probably had no idea how important their strange favor had been to me. Sometimes I felt awful for never truly thanking them for keeping me alive all of those years. Other times I wanted to shake them and accuse them of being God, which I hadn’t entirely ruled out.

“Han Sooyoung is doomed by the narrative,” I agreed dully. “Maybe tls123 was trying to tell me something. Maybe they tried to tell me 1863 times, and I just wouldn’t listen.”

Yoo Sangah hummed, flipping the page of the book. Her eyebrow quirked upwards. “Oh, my. I think I picked up the wrong book.”

What? I leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of the text, but she just held it away from me. She always used to play keep away with my food, just to make the kids laugh. “How is there a right and wrong book? It’s just memories.”

“A biography is never just a memory, Dokja-ssi. Listen:

The rain drummed on the thin tarpaulin above Han Sooyoung’s head as she clenched the phone with shaking hands.

Monsters screamed around her. The sound was almost as terrifying as the sound of human voices. Sooyoung only slept in fits and starts, jolting awake whenever she imagined she heard a pterodactyl or a man speaking too closely around her camp. She would have to find a more secure place to rest tomorrow, if such a place existed. She needed to rest. Today, she gripped her smartphone tight through a sleepless night. 

She had just finished reading the new update. Chapter 1045. As always, the comments section held only one reader. 

“You asshole,” Sooyoung whispered. “This isn’t a one way street. You need me, huh? What if I need you?”

But she couldn’t be too mad at him. The little know-it-all was always trying to solve the problem before Yoo Joonghyuk, and Sooyoung had already spent hours reading through uselessly planned plot after plot. An answer to every scenario in the palm of her hand. Combined with her own quick thinking and depths of knowledge, maybe…maybe there would be a way to survive after all.

Sooyoung turned the phone off, pulling her thin blanket closer around her shoulders. They weren’t even in the second scenario yet. She had barely survived so far. She needed to get ahead. She was one of two people who knew this story better than anything. That had to be the advantage she needed. She couldn’t just survive the scenarios - she had to dominate. Her goal was greater than victory.

Maybe she’d have to live up to her derivative reputation. It wasn’t plagiarizing - just lifting some good ideas. His comment on the 341th chapter was practically an essay on how Yoo Joonghyuk ought to screw over the dokkaebi. It obviously needed a lot of improvements, but if Sooyoung put her mind to it then she knew she could do it.

She had to get home. At any cost, she had to survive this. Sooyoung had never loved her home or her life - she had spent most of her waking hours pretending she was someplace else - but there was somebody back home who needed her. There were things she needed to tell him.

I’m sorry. I like you. You have to live. You like the book more than I do. Everything I made was for you. I love you. Please stay. Don’t you dare leave. I’m sorry I left.

Sooyoung would survive. She had no other option. She wouldn’t stop until she told him everything she never said. No matter what, she’d find a way to survive.

Maybe it was time to search for Yoo Joonghyuk.

“What a sad story,” Yoo Sangah said quietly. “She was only a kid.”

Yoo Sangah’s words snapped me out of my reverie. I decided to focus on the positives of that passage. “That book isn’t my life at all, then. That must be a record of the 1863rd Han Sooyoung’s life. She told me that she received a link to Ways of Survival when the scenarios began. And that she read every shitty comment.” Despite everything, I was a bit pleased. “She really used my ideas? No wonder that regression turned out so well. I always wondered what would happen if a book character ever got her hands on Ways of Survival.”

Yoo Sangah looked up at me, a little surprised. “Dokja-ssi. Don’t you see it? The Han Sooyoung from the 1863rd regression must be -”

“She said that she has access to the Fourth Wall too. That must be why her life ended up here.” I reached over and took the book from Yoo Sangah’s hands. Maybe closer to grabbed. “I’m not the biggest fan of chick lit, so let’s reshelve this.”

I threw it down the aisle, letting it disappear into the inky darkness.

Yoo Sangah gave me a disapproving look. Figures. She really had become a librarian.

“I hoped that reading through your life would help me understand you a little better, Dokja-ssi.” Did she understand how much I detested that sentence? “But I fear I am a worse reader than you are. I’m left with questions.”

“If it’s you, Yoo Sangah, then you can ask.”

The words surprised myself. Maybe I did want somebody to know. Or maybe that should have been obvious: nobody would fill a library with their own soul if they did not want it read. 

“When you visited the Underworld and met Persephone.” Yoo Sangah’s expression was intent and curious, as if she really was in a book club in Seoul. It almost made me forget Persephone’s embarrassing choices in forms. Almost. “You did not ask about your Sooyoung. You have not even asked Nirvana or the Buddha if she was reincarnated. I have never seen you allow somebody to stay dead, Dokja-ssi. Why did you not search for her?”

If it was Yoo Sangah, then I could tell the truth. No matter how shameful it was.

“The reason is…it must seem very silly from the outside.”

“We are not outside, are we?”

We weren’t. Only inside could I speak with Yoo Sangah like this. If libraries weren’t safe, it was only because nowhere had ever been safe. 

“I was a child. A child who had very little to his name. A book, a friend. He subsisted off somebody else’s dream. A dream of…magically, one day, finding themselves someplace far away from here. A fantasy world full of adventure. Where they could be happy.” Yoo Sangah sucked in a quick breath, but I ignored her - lost in my own maze of thoughts. “Then…one day…he had only one thing. The dream had died. Hadn’t it?”

I leaned my head back against the shelving, looking up into the darkness. If you tilted the library upside down and shook me out of it, I knew I would fall endlessly into eternity.

“Every reader knows dreams can’t die. That’s the nature of a story. So this child had an idea. He thought…maybe, if he just dreamed that dream enough times, then he could make reality a fantasy. Then the dream would live on. And she’d still be alive.”

I wanted the library to crumble around my ears. I wanted all the books and stories to disappear. I wanted the world to end. I wanted to fall into that eternity.

“So this child dreamed his friend back to life. And he placed her into a story. A story where everybody died, but nobody was ever truly gone. A story that never ended. So long as that story continued…so long as its hero regressed again and again…that dream would never disappear from this world. And maybe…maybe one day…”

A small and calloused hand took mine. She squeezed my hand tightly, and I found the breath to squeeze it back.

“But the story was always the same,” I whispered. “Han Sooyoung always dies. Yoo Joonghyuk always fails. Yoo Joonghyuk always regresses. Han Sooyoung always returns to life. Han Sooyoung always dies. Yoo Joonghyuk always regresses…it was a story without an ending. So long as that story didn’t end, then the ending would never come. Han Sooyoung would always return to life. She would always live. She would always die. She would always live…and that child could always see her again. All he had to do was open a book.”

A memory preserved in amber. In chapter 2421 she was always smiling. In chapter 3432 she was always getting married. Kim Dokja regressed to these moments many times. He had probably regressed more often than Yoo Joonghyuk - if only for the sake of seeing her one last time. One last time, every time. For eternity.

“Do you remember our conversation on that train, Sangah-ssi?” I looked at her for the first time, smiling wanly, and I saw that she was crying. Why? Why shed tears for somebody else’s ancient misery? “You said I looked broken-hearted. I couldn’t tell you back then. I’m glad I can tell you now. I looked broken-hearted because I had just read the very final chapter of Ways of Survival. To me, at that moment…it was the first time in ten years I had felt like Han Sooyoung was dead. That’s a little pathetic, right? That’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” Yoo Sangah said. “But many people are pathetic like that.”

“Have you ever been pathetic like this, Sangah-ssi?”

“No. I wish I had. I was happy to never marry, but I remember feeling sad because I had no loved ones. It made me wonder if I was capable.” Yoo Sangah offered me the ghost of a smile. “I wish we had been friends like this in the old world. I wish…the old world had a little more love in it.”

“I couldn’t have befriended you.” I wasn’t capable of such a thing.

“Can we dream it, Dokja-ssi? Maybe if we dream it…”

My dreams had not resurrected that teenage girl. They hadn’t saved my soul or healed my world. But the stories I built with a friend had always been my salvation. I wanted to offer that salvation to Yoo Sangah. I had never given it properly until now.

“If I didn’t get fired from my job,” I said, “then we’d be friends for sure. I always thought you were so cool, but I didn’t know how to approach.”

“I tried to approach you many times, but I couldn’t get through to you.” I realized too late that Yoo Sangah’s words weren’t part of the dream at all - that she really had wanted to be friends with me. “But…one day, your wife visits work with the lunch that you forgot. She’s a very loud woman…I think we’d argue. No, we would definitely get into a fight. She could make a spectacle out of bringing her husband lunch.”

“I walk in on you two arguing and I’m so embarrassed. I’m thinking that my chances of making friends with you are through. But Sooyoung - once she realizes that you’re the one person at my workplace I really like, she backs off.” I brushed a thumb over my chin, thinking hard. “She had just picked a fight with you because she assumes pretty girls bully me…she’ll pretend to be repentant and invite you to get dinner with us.”

“I mean to stay for two hours or so,” Yoo Sangah continued, “but I have so much fun that I end up staying up the entire night with you. We talk about everything. I can really open up to you. And that’s how we become best friends.”

“My kids call you auntie, don’t they?”

“Yes. I’m the type who only brings them educational toys, I’m afraid…”

“That’s alright. Sooyoung would only buy them junk or books.”

“Your big house must have walls of bookshelves.”

“It does. You never leave our house without borrowing a few.”

“We quit our jobs eventually. I find a happy job at a woman and children’s nonprofit. Sooyoung makes a lot of money, so you stay at home with your baby and run crypto scams.”

“I’m still a scammer?!”

“You aren’t happy unless you’re screwing rich people out of their money, Dokja-ssi.”

“Then you’re the one who scopes out abusive husbands for scams. Your innocent act doesn’t work on me anymore, Sangah-ssi.”

“That’s why we’ll always be friends,” Yoo Sangah said. “We have too much dirt on each other to ever stop.”

“But that’s not why you attend the kendo and archery tournaments,” I said. “You are a beloved member of our family.”

Yoo Sangah leaned her head against the shelf, exhaling slowly. That smile drifted to her face again. Her smiles were so weak and thin here. Once she left this place, her smiles would look different. Small and faded as they were, these were the last smiles from Yoo Sangah I would ever see. 

“This dream does make me happy.” I knew we could see it together: the bookcases and the rattles, the long nights and sleepy mornings. “But I’m hitting a wall. Imagining you and Han Sooyoung together…my mind always places Yoo Joonghyuk between you. Like he always is. You three are happiest together. Is there room for Yoo Joonghyuk in this world?”

Of course, there was not. There was no Yoo Joonghyuk without unhappiness. In a world without unhappiness, there was no Yoo Joonghyuk. There was no need for him. A perfect world had no need for fiction. 

“Dokja,” Yoo Sangah said, “can you accept living in this imperfect world for the sake of the ones you love?”

“I’ve accepted living in it so far.”

“You kill yourself time and again for the ones you love.” Yoo Sangah spoke simply and quietly, but with great purpose. She seemed like she was trying hard to get through to me. As she always did. “We would do the same for you. But all of us, the entire company - do you think we have not chosen to survive for the sake of your ending? Do you think it was not hard for us too? The 41st Shin Yoosung and I chose reincarnation because you still need us. Yoo Joonghyuk has chosen this to be his final regression because he knows you cannot survive without him. You are not the only person who sometimes does not wish to survive, Dokja-ssi. But we stay for you. Why can’t you stay for us?”

I was silent.

“I understand I am being selfish by asking you this. You have given everything you have to the company, and still I ask for more. But please hear my selfish request, Dokja.” Yoo Sangah’s eyes were dark and somber. For the first time, I was scared of her. “Do not leave the children with only the memory of a father. Do not take away from me the only person who has ever prioritized me over their own desires. You are a cheater, scammer, and liar, Dokja-ssi - but do not rob Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung of their reason for living.”

“They would survive,” I said.

Yoo Sangah’s eyes softened. She had known I would say that. There was nothing else I knew how to say. “Yes. Thanks to you, we all know how to survive. But…when you imagine that big house at the end of the scenarios…are we only surviving?”

No. The big house marked the end of survival. That was what living happily ever after meant to me: that the heroes no longer had to survive, and that they could finally begin to live. There was no guidebook for that. 

“I’m sorry.”

Yoo Sangah arched an eyebrow. “Are you apologizing for what you’ve done? Or are you apologizing because you have no intention of granting my request?”

“For it all,” I said. “I will always be sorry for it all.”

She leaned forward and embraced me, and I could only return the embrace. She had once smelled of department store perfume: now she smelled only of herself, and the dusty remains of ancient books. A tale older than time, that spanned two lifetimes. 

“I have to go now,” Yoo Sangah whispered.

I knew. She would return. She wasn’t truly dying. But it didn’t feel that way. “Can’t you stay a little while longer?”

“I’m sorry.” She released me, leaving one hand tangled in mine, and when she slowly stood up I stood up with her. “So long as I remain here, I will remain the reader of somebody else’s story. I want to be the architect of my own dreams.”

She squeezed my hand. I wanted to let go of it. I wanted to turn away and hide my face - to pick up a book, any book, and bury myself within it. I did not want to watch her go. I had gone through great effort to guarantee her return, to secure her place in my ending, and I knew I would see her again. But this felt too much like the death of a friend, and I knew from hard experience that seeing a friend again didn’t mean she had returned to you. 

“Walk with me, Dokja?”

This request, at least, I was not too cowardly to fulfill.

I walked with Yoo Sangah into the darkness filling the aisles and surrounding us. The aisles were thin, so she walked ahead of me. I watched her back for as long as I could: how she stood so tall, her shoulders set and ready. She strode forward into that darkness with such confidence and surety. I admired that strength. 

Was she so strong because she knew she could rely on me? Because she trusted me to keep her safe and facilitate her rebirth into an uncertain new life? It was likely true. But there was fear even in certainty, and I knew from long experience that knowing what lay on the other side didn’t make walking to your death any easier. 

Eventually the darkness overtook us, and I could see her back no longer. I couldn’t see even a centimeter in front of my face. All was blackness. I held tightly onto Yoo Sangah’s hand and allowed her to guide me into that eternal nothingness, trusting that she would lead us out of this Underworld - through this gap between letters, the space between a final thought and the end of its sentence. We traversed the endless expanse of a period. I relied on Yoo Sangah to guide me out of the white and black pages of this book. 

I do not know if she looked back or not. I never took my eyes off her. In this way, Eurydice had the easier job. 

A hand slipped out of my grip. I lurched forward, trying to chase the sensation, but my hand only swept empty air. 

I disappeared too, only a little while later, but in that short time I grieved her enough for almost two thousand lifetimes.

Chapter Text

The 999th regression was the most perfect worldline. Could you blame me for feeling this way?

As my sword collided with the 999th turn’s Lee Jihye, sparking the memories of two lives in tandem and showing lives in parallel, I truly saw how fervently I had sought that worldline’s ending. It had been far from the happiest worldline - indeed, it had been one of the worldlines filled with the most suffering - but that suffering was why every companion had survived to the end. It was a worldline where Yoo Joonghyuk took no life for granted. In that regression, every life had meant something. That philosophy had poured an untold flood of suffering into the lives of Yoo Joonghyuk and company. But they never would have survived without it. 

In that way, I had learned a valuable lesson: suffering was necessary to create the world that you wanted. Maybe it was even a sign that things were on track.

In the loop of memories, I saw myself standing in Yoo Joonghyuk’s spot. That, too, was a crucial element of my plan to neutralize the 999th turn’s Lee Jihye. Seeing myself truly embody my hero for the first time, I thought I would feel pride or satisfaction, but when I looked inside myself all I found was a very old exhaustion. I would rather have Yoo Joonghyuk fighting beside me than to be Yoo Joonghyuk. 

I felt Han Sooyoung’s stories crackle behind me, ready to jump into the fray and help, but I flared one of our shared stories in response. She wasn’t hiding, but she was standing on top of our battleship away from the fighting. She cursed up a storm when I told her to sit this one out, but she had agreed to do it. As usual, I felt great pressure to guarantee a very good reason for forcing her not to rip our enemies to shreds.

[Why? Why is it you and not me?]

The 999th turn’s Lee Jihye and I broke apart, and even as we broke contact our stories continued raging above us. The look on her face was far deeper and older than any emotion I had ever felt. Could a person with a shattered heart still feel broken-hearted?

[I’m so jealous.]

She reached out and put a hand on my cheek. Despite everything, it felt exactly the same as my own Lee Jihye’s hand. Just a little colder.

[Your life,] the 999th turn’s Lee Jihye whispered. [I want it so badly. That’s the kind of life I always wanted. I worked so hard for it…why do you get to have it?]

There was, of course, only one answer. “Because you worked so hard for it.”

[Then give it to me !]

[Disconnected Film Theory] began writhing wildly, and the stories resonated in tune like two sharp bells before pouncing upon each other. They ripped and tore and bit at each other, fighting for dominance, and our young and uncertain story quickly began to quail under the might of the ancient tale of woe. Han Sooyoung’s stories leapt into the fray, reinforcing and widening Lee Jihye’s own, but it wasn’t enough.  I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t let Lee Jihye be devoured by the 999th turn, out of all the turns - that was just too ironic, and not in the narratively satisfying way -  

A dragon’s roar pierced the grey skies. It was only distantly familiar - reminiscent of a roar so much younger and less powerful. The heavens split above us, probability crackling in thunderbolts so large I could barely see the gate in the sky, and a large shadow enveloped the entire Turtle Battleship. It was like an eclipse had blotted out the sun. 

Han Sooyoung screeched a litany of curses. Thankfully, I had much more time to prepare myself for the appearance of this person. The goal had always been to survive until she got here. 

The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon - manifested into the Apocalypse Dragon, far more dangerous than our worldline’s Apocalypse Dragon could ever dream of becoming - roared. Only my stories protected my eardrums from puncturing. It flapped its wings, throwing gusts along the seas and displacing some battleships. A young woman stood on the head of the dragon, arms crossed. 

Hopefully something similar was happening with Lee Hyunsung in Team 2. Hopefully. 

“What are we doing ?” the 999th turn’s Han Sooyoung yelled.

The 999th turn’s Lee Jihye subsided. Her stories fell dormant, and my side wrangled our stories downwards too. Our Han Sooyoung was still cursing. 

The 999th Lee Jihye looked upwards, face twisted in pain. But I could see distinct elements of shame too. “What we swore to do! What we have to do! You agreed to this too!”

The 999th Abyssal Black Flame Dragon slowly descended in the skies, until it stayed hovering in the air right at the highest point of the Turtle Battleship - putting the 999th Han Sooyoung at direct eye level with the 3rd Han Sooyoung, who was undoubtedly finally realizing why I brought her along on this trip. The two Han Sooyoungs stood only yards apart, and I saw them lock eye contact with each other.

[Disconnected Film Theory] exploded.

The force was so powerful that the 999th Lee Jihye and I were blown back. The theory had ballooned in size and exploded, throwing fragments and shards of story everywhere. I caught several quick glimpses of Han Sooyoung’s story - hugging Yoo Joonghyuk, leading the army of titans in Gigantomachia, letting Kim Namwoon talk her into another silly rivalry competition - before they faded from sight. 

The 3rd Han Sooyoung stood on the top of the battleship in shock. The 999th Han Sooyoung, youthful and ancient in comparison, stood somberly. 

The 3rd Han Sooyoung reached out her hand, seeking the 999th Han Sooyoung - or seeking something she carried within her. The 999th Han Sooyoung hesitated, drawing away, before reaching out her hand too. A bright story sparked between them, jumping from one to the other - it was impossible to tell which - and flaring with a dazzling white light. It wasn’t the kind of story that fought. 

Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile. After years of struggle and dozens of scenarios, I had found her. In some small way, everything felt worth it. 

The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon landed on the Turtle Battleship, rocking it and almost nose-diving us into the ocean. The 999th Han Sooyoung jumped off the head of the dragon, backflipping once in the air before landing elegantly on the deck of the ship. The 3rd Han Sooyoung jumped down too, still looking dazed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the 999th Han Sooyoung. 

A part of me - or maybe just a very old story - felt a little sad that she was in her mid-twenties and not eighteen. She was so much older than my favorite character, and within her I clearly saw the tell-tale signs of a broken heart. This woman was an Outer God who had struggled through millenia, and she had progressed far beyond where my favorite character had ever ended. But she was alive - the only Han Sooyoung who could not die - and that was far more important than any nostalgia on my end. She only resembled the 3rd Han Sooyoung and my own Sooyoung. 

She was going to speak to me. She had something to say to me. Maybe she was even going to try and kill me! What an honor. This wasn’t the time or the place for an honor like that, and I would get into a lot of interpersonal trouble if I allowed her to try, but spiritually I would be completely fine with it. One time Han Sooyoung had completely wrecked a dozen Demon Kings through utilizing their greedy and cringe-like natures against them. It had been so cool. Had the 3rd Han Sooyoung seen that moment? She deserved to know how cool she was. 

“Constellation Kim Dokja,” the 999th Han Sooyoung announced. A shiver ran down my spine. “You’re some kind of fanfiction writer, aren’t you?”

I collapsed.

I fell to the ground, landing hard on my knees. I had long since surpassed the need to breathe, but I found myself heaving deep breaths anyway. I was disappointed in myself. I thought I was able to do this. That girl was behind me, I knew she had never been real, I had always known it - but in that moment, she had touched something real. 

Was she truly fictional? She was standing before me. If she was fictional then so was Lee Jihye, and that had ceased being true a long time ago. Even if she was, it didn’t matter. She had traveled long beyond the boundaries of the story and kept walking, just like the 3rd Han Sooyoung and Lee Jihye, and I must accept the reality of her.

The reality of her saying my name. 

“Yes. I suppose I am.” I gasped a heavy breath, finally straightening to look up at her. “Sorry. My storyline’s pretty derivative, isn’t it?”

“It’s word for word. Do you love the source material that much?” 

“It was the only worldline where you survived,” I confessed. It was nothing less than a confession. “That’s the only ending I can accept.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung looked down at me inscrutably. I felt her Predictive Storytelling churn away in her mind, far more powerful and far-reaching than any other Han Sooyoung could imagine - save, perhaps, the 1863rd Han Sooyoung, whose powers surpassed reason. I knew what she could see. I knew she had seen it in the 3rd Han Sooyoung’s story. 

The Secretive Plotter had given Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung a copy of Ways of Survival. After Han Sooyoung resurrected herself, we had a brief and awkward conversation about her technically fictional nature. She had a lot of questions that I didn’t answer. Kim Dokja, a coward to the end, didn’t tell her the nature of her genesis. 

I had a lot of justifications for not telling her. Of course, even I understood that it was cowardly. But I had navigated much of my life believing that one’s genesis was their greatest curse. I had relieved myself of the burden of remembering it. As her semi-creator, I felt a responsibility to save her from that pain.

Finally, the 999th Han Sooyoung announced, “You’re the kind of hero that the world can’t afford to lose, right?”

I sat speechless. 

“I know I’m right.” 999th Han Sooyoung turned her back to me, holding out her arms to dramatically shield me from the frozen Lee Jihye. “We can’t do this, Jihye. Stealing people’s happiness from them just because we’re miserable would make us no better than the constellations. I won’t sacrifice a world for my own survival.”

“That’s the terms of our deal!” Lee Jihye cried. I had the feeling this was the escalation of a long argument. “You’re the one who agreed to go along with it!”

“You and Namwoon are the only ones who agreed because you wanted a new world,” the 999th Han Sooyoung said. Agreed? Deal? “Unnie only agreed because she couldn’t die before she got her revenge. Hyunsung-ahjussi only agreed because we agreed. And me - you know the only thing I ever wanted, Jihye!”

“Captain’s dead!” An Outer God with a broken heart shouldn’t be able to make that face - to feel the pain that was clearly tearing her apart. But Lee Jihye had always loved too strongly. Her love for Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk had always caused her pain. “You can search the star stream for a hundred thousand years, Sooyoung - he’s not coming back!”

“I know oppa’s out there somewhere,” 999th Han Sooyoung said stubbornly. “I just know it. I won’t stop until I find him. And I want to look him in the eyes and tell him I’m still the good person that he died for.”

I forced myself to my feet and took several steps back. Han Sooyoung rushed in to grab me by the collar and pull me backwards. She was already helping Lee Jihye stay upright, and I was ashamed to say I needed the help too. The stories of the two Outer Gods were crackling dangerously, and although I knew who would win in that fight I knew that we may not survive it. I didn’t know if they would fight at all. I couldn’t pretend I understood the 999th Han Sooyoung.

I reached out with [Reading Comprehension] and allowed a sad story to flood my brain. The words blurred past my sight, and I picked through the text to draw out the most important information. So they had made a deal with the Dokkaebi King. Allow themselves to be summoned as calamities, destroy the world, create a kinder one for themselves. It was something I couldn’t imagine my own company doing. I wondered if their Yoo Joonghyuk could imagine it either.

“I believe this worldline can make it to the end.” 999th Han Sooyoung dropped her arms and stepped forward, almost pleading to Lee Jihye. “I used Predictive Storytelling to read its past. It’s a perfect story - the kind I would have written myself. I think they can make it past the Final Wall.”

“We made it past the Final Wall!” Lee Jihye scowled. She wasn’t about to back down. Lee Jihye wasn’t famous for giving up. “You saw what lay beyond it - just more suffering and misery! The Dokkaebi are going to destroy this timeline anyway, and even if they do get to the Final Wall the only thing that will happen is an ejection from the scenarios. They’ll be lost like us. Why not use it? There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”

“I can’t allow that to be my ending!” 999th Han Sooyoung said furiously. “Oppa wouldn’t -”

“The Captain’s dead. And he’s not coming back.” 999th Lee Jihye’s stories flared harshly, and 999th Han Sooyoung winced as her power was pushed away. “The Captain would want us to be happy. I want you to be happy, Sooyoung. Chasing after a dead man is making you miserable. I won’t watch you do it anymore. I’ll write the happy ending you’re too scared to find!”

A boom cracked through the air, and the smell of ghostly gunpowder hit my nose. The enemy battleship had fired at the Abyssal Apocalypse Dragon, and the dragon had only barely flattened itself against the deck and dodged the attack. The 999th Lee Jihye smiled grimly as another volley of fire came raining down upon us, and I quickly strained my stories to cover the ship and protect us from the blistering fire. The palms of my hands were burning, about to be scorched off.

Then the pressure lightened. My Han Sooyoung stood beside me, raising her hands and rousing her own stories to bear equal weight to mine. She was sweating with the effort, and I was distantly aware of my Lee Jihye activating the defense mechanisms on the Turtle Battleship against the 999th Lee Jihye. 

My Han Sooyoung smirked at me, as if she was beating me in cards again. “So that’s the little princess. She really takes after her old man.”

It took a solid few seconds to parse the meaning of her words. I blamed the canonfire. “Wait. You knew?!”

“My Predictive Storytelling fully awakened.” Somehow the simple truth sounded a little evasive, but Han Sooyoung never sounded honest unless she was conning someone. “It’s pretty cliche, you know.”

I never wanted to hear these words from her, ever. It was almost worse than the dragon batting away cannonballs with its tail. “I - really, I can really explain -”

“Please don’t tell me that I’m based on your tragically deceased high school girlfriend or something.” My silence was incriminating. “Oh, seriously ? You’re so cliche!”

A white-hot volley hit our protective shield again, and we almost buckled under the weight. A dragon roared again, and we felt the ship bank sharply to the right. The sound of the waves grew ever-louder in our ears. “I know she’s not you! I just - you can’t understand, Han Sooyoung!”

“Are you kidding?” Han Sooyoung yelled over the crashing waves. The ship was tilting dangerously, and I could see a monsoon growing on the horizon. Terrible to worse. “I’m the only one who understands! I was born with your grief! Do you think there isn’t something missing in me too?”

A beam of pure power hit us, and we buckled. Our stories weren’t enough. The power that could vaporize a battleship hit us full force, and Han Sooyoung and I took the full brunt of the attack. For a second, I was convinced that Yoo Sangah was going to kill me for dying again.

Then my vision was filled with black. The Abyssal Apocalypse Dragon had wrapped itself around us, and it howled with pain as it took the attack. Han Sooyoung and I instantly began building up our stories again, attempting to relieve the burden from the dragon, but I could hear its scaly flesh sizzling as the attack hit it full force. 

The 999th Han Sooyoung shunpo stepped in front of us, hair windswept. She was the only other master of the Breaking the Sky school of martial arts, and as a Mary Sue woman she was even faster than Yoo Joonghyuk. 

She waved a hand at us, as if pushing us back. “Go! Call your own dragon and get out of here! This isn’t a fight you can win!”

“Do you seriously think I’d run away?” Han Sooyoung asked heatedly. “I’ll call my own sponsor and we can take her together -”

“Don’t you have somebody to protect?” Despite the smell of her dragon’s flesh cooking and the desperate situation, the 999th Han Sooyoung managed to dredge up a smile for us. “You have your own ending to write too, Sooyoung.”

“Oh, don’t give me that goofy crap, you corny-ass -”

“ Excuse me?!”

A boom echoed in the distance, far sharper and cleaner than the canonfire, and all three of us recognized it instantly. As one, we all smiled. 

“Reinforcements are here,” 999th Han Sooyoung said lightly.

I nodded. “He always comes.”

“And he’s always late, too!” My Han Sooyoung complained. 

With a final sonic boom, Yoo Joonghyuk landed on the tallest point of the battleship. All fire ceased, and the 999th Lee Jihye staggered back in shock. Our Lee Jihye, who had been returning fire as best as she could, ceased her own attacks. 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked down upon all of us, coldly scrutinizing the scene. He looked different - scarred and battle-worn. So Secretive Plotter had come through on that favor after all. 

Finally, he proclaimed, “Fighting each other does the enemy’s work for them. I trained you all better than this.”

I raised my hand, smiling brightly. “You didn’t train me!”

“Shut up, Kim Dokja.”

“It would have been really nice if you had trained me, actually. Why didn’t you do that?”

“You were too busy being dead half the time.” Yoo Joonghyuk jumped down from the highest point of the tower, easily landing on top of the injured Abyssal Apocalypse Dragon. He looked down at all of us, on opposite sides of the dragon, and judged us all equally with his cutting eyes. “Do not do this, Lee Jihye. This timeline is our last hope of salvation. We will never have another opportunity like it. The Star Stream must end here.”

“Oppa?” 999th Han Sooyoung stepped forward, and in that moment the ancient Outer God looked like nothing less than a little girl. “Is that really you, oppa?”

He looked down upon her - not coldly, but unyielding. “I am Yoo Joonghyuk.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung sagged a little, but she offered him a sad smile. “You’re right. A man with a thousand versions and one self.” She looked at me askance, almost knowingly. “No matter how many facets a person has…they’re still the same person, aren’t they?”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded sharply. “It is good to see you again, Sooyoung.”

Despite everything, the 999th Han Sooyoung grinned, big and bright. “How did I know you would say that?”

My Han Sooyoung elbowed her. “He always says that.”

“When he feels like being nice.”

“And how often is that ?”

“Oh, a few hundred regressions…out of almost two thousand.”

A very obvious implication finally clicked. 

“Wait! Wait, wait!” I quickly waved a hand, mind already working at a hundred confused kilometers per hour. “Yoo Joonghyuk, you know - I mean, in your life and memories, Han Sooyoung is a teenager?”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at me stoically. “I remember it now. Not before. She was a teenager in every regression. I just didn’t know.”

“Every regression but this one!” I assumed that Han Sooyoung was an adult for the same reasons that Yoo Sangah, Lee Gilyoung, and Kim Dokja were present in the narrative - that fantasy intersected with reality at a certain point, and that perhaps my presence in fiction changed its reality somehow. But Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung weren’t in any regression but the 1863rd one. “Why is she a completely different person only in the third regression? And why didn’t you even remember that?”

“I already checked that.” My Han Sooyoung crossed her arms unhappily. “Predictive Storytelling couldn’t say. There’s a 0% chance of my own existence. The reason must be beyond all realm of probability.”

“Wait,” Lee Jihye said, “ what ?”

There was no opportunity to explain.

A star appeared on the horizon, and a bright heat wave of flame and power washed over us. The star grew closer and closer, gaining on us in only seconds, and I knew instantly that the B Team hadn’t been able to constrain Uriel. As expected, but disappointing. 

The time for questions fell away, and the real battle began.

Survival in another world begins with a death. 

It began with a hospital bed and an internet search. I hadn’t done a very good job, so I could still use my right hand. Maybe it was a little strange to be so desperate to live only a day after my first attempt. But I was. Truthfully, I had regretted it before I had finished falling. I don’t think I ever really wanted to die. But I couldn’t figure out how to live. 

Sometimes I wondered why I could barely hold on in real life and thrive in this apocalypse. No matter how many times I was forced to sacrifice myself, I always had a plan that let me weasel out of the abyss. I went through great and arduous lengths to live, and I lived with stubborn abandon. 

Maybe it was because I knew how. I had my manual. So long as I had a method to survive, I could survive. So long as I continued to be a reader, I could be Dokja. So long as I could read my favorite novel and pretend that it was only an isekai away, I could drag myself onwards through life with my fingernails.

Did anybody ever wonder about the lives that the isekai protagonist leaves behind? The hero of the story never has any loved ones - no friends, no career, and no future worth living. No method of survival. But surely this protagonist left an impact on the world. No matter how small or inconsequential, surely somebody out there missed this person when they were gone. Somebody had to have heard the announcement in their school classroom and think - I knew her, I spoke to her. She had leant me a pencil. She had insulted my hair. Nobody I know has ever died before. Surely somebody must have feelings like those. 

Maybe a shy girl had loved her from afar. Maybe her fanfiction had given a spot of joy in the life of a stranger. Maybe a stream of comments ahad come flooding in on her popular webnovel: when are you updating? Is this story dead? Update now. I loved the story, so please update. In this way, these readers were left behind.

The lives left behind are not the hero of the story. They do not exist in the story at all. They live somewhere between the lines, outside the bounds of probability: lives directly contradicted but desperately inferred. The story cannot progress if they exist, but they cannot exist without the story. This is called limbo, or purgatory. This is called Hell, which is little more than exclusion from Heaven. 

A child in a hospital bed cannot live without the story. The fragments of dead timelines abandoned by the narrative cannot tell their own tales. A child in a hospital bed cannot live without the hope that the isekai protagonist will reach the ending of her own story and return home. The coworker who always meant to befriend you but never knew how to approach you exists in spite of the narrative of your loneliness. The reader has encountered the inevitable ending of all things, and understands that this is not the sort of story with an ending where the protagonist comes home. The child hopes the story never ends.

I always knew. On some level, so deep inside of me that you couldn’t even read it between the lines of the dustiest book in the furthest depths of the Fourth Wall’s library, I had always known.

Some part of me had never left that first hospital bed. Another part of me had never left the second. Something inside of me died with my father, as surely as if I had killed it myself, but I never knew what it was. 

Losing Sooyoung had brought something within me to life. I didn’t like to look at that part. But I had always known it was there. 

I had always known. 

A boy sat on a subway bench.

A schoolkid, surrounded by a drooping bag and half-scattered homework. Battered journals were piled next to him, dog-eared and bookmarked with pens. The child was wearing a high school uniform, but he was small. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen. As if he was playing a tabletop game, he was scribbling away on an impromptu character sheet.

[Kim Dokja made a promise. To end the culprit who created this world. To take vengeance for the injustice. No matter what.]

I managed a step forward. I couldn’t manage any more.

He was covered in bruises, of course. In the usual places: forearm, hand, cheek. Sloppily applied concealer was flaking off his round cheek. He had never been great at applying it himself. 

So this, too, was a dream. So even this had been a story.

A story dreamed up by a little boy, who was good at ideas but not a great writer. His plots had good structure but they were a little convoluted. He had a knack for characterization but his dialogue left something to be desired. In short, he was a reader who dreamed beyond his abilities. 

But I had always known that too.

The world’s most omniscient yet powerless god. He couldn’t even write.

My companions were in a state of shock. They were accustomed to surprises, but this was beyond anything they had ever experienced. Jung Heewon’s sword had fallen to the floor, and I could see the despair slowly rise in her. Kim Dokja had betrayed her and broken her faith one last time. Something deep inside of Shin Yoosung was shaken, and Lee Gilyoung was holding her steady. Only Yoo Sangah accepted this easily. She only looked very sad. She hadn’t wanted to be right. 

[You have promised to destroy the Star Stream.]

[The Star Stream will not be destroyed unless the ‘Oldest Dream’ is ended.]

I stared at the ugliest and most vile child I had ever seen. Slovenly, disgusting, and pathetic. I looked at him with all of my power and understood that I had wanted to murder this child for a very long time.

The child looked up at me. He could tell. 

[The Fourth Wall has fallen.]

Of course it had. The dramatis personae in this tragedy had looked beyond the stage and seen its playwright. The implications of their lives had borne down upon them: that they had re-enacted their tragic ends hundreds of times, night after night, for the entertainment of an audience that was already wondering where to go for dinner. 

“Biyoo,” I said. “Please leave us for a little bit.” Biyoo bleated in distress, but I barely heard her. “I need you to go for a little while. Please.”

She left. There was that, at least. 

I may have been calm. I may have been enraged. I couldn’t tell the difference. It no longer mattered. This character would do what any character would do, if only given the chance. 

“You should have died back then.”

The child’s face fell. I hadn’t expected him to notice me or understand what I was saying, but it didn’t matter. I was a part of him, and I spoke the words trapped within his head.

“You should have let Dad kill you.” I stepped forward, placing my hand on my sword, and I ignored the cries of horror and shock behind me. “You deserved it. You deserve what Auntie is doing to you.”

The child’s eyes began brimming with tears. Always crying! Why the fuck was he crying? He had heard these words a thousand times. It was pathetic to let the truth hurt you every time. That was why he deserved it. Because he always cried.

“You’re why Mom is in jail. You ruined her life.” I drew my sword, already halfway through my assault. “Sooyoung just felt sorry for you. She only stuck around because of pity.”

That, of all things, upset the child the most. “That’s not true!” the child burst out. “Sooyoung loved me!”

“So? She’s dead.” I used the tip of my sword to knock aside his character sheet, letting it fall limply to the ground. We both knew which character he had been designing. “Do you seriously think your creepy OC version of her is going to bring her back? It’s been ten years and you haven’t moved on. Don’t you get how pathetic that is?” 

“She was my only friend!” the child cried out, like a complete fucking loser. “Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk are the only friends I have, I can’t let go of -”

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” I sneered. I was distantly aware of Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung stepping forward, reaching out to me. “The fictional fucking character ? Like that Han Sooyoung is a shitty fictional character ?”

[The Demon King transformation is activating!]

“Don’t say that,” the child pleaded, voice choked with tears, “please don’t say that.”

I looked at this child and I saw only misery.

Fifteen years of misery. Eighteen years of misery. Twenty eight years of misery. A childhood without a single good memory outside of a book. A lifetime composed of nothing more than smears of fear and sadness and dread. The one truly bright and shining spot snuffed out. Every dream deferred until it rotted in the sun. 

Was it him I hated? Or was it the misery sewn into his skin? I knew the real answer, but I preferred to hate him. He was easier to hate than my cursed life. I hated the way he chased me around even now, dogging at my heels and never allowing me to escape him. I went to sleep and he waited for me. He sat beside me in school and made my eyelids heavy. I marched in the front lines of the army and he marched in time with me. Every time I thought I had finally left him behind, I scratched the surface of my skin and found him within me again. There was no escape. I wanted him dead and he never had the decency to lie down and die. He wouldn’t stop bothering me with his presence or memory or fear or sadness or helplessness or uselessness or weakness. I had been trying to kill him for a very long time, and I had never cared if it took myself along with him. At least now it was for a good cause. Justice.

[The Angel Transformation is activating!]

This child was the architect of this miserable apocalypse and cruel star system. Of course he was. This child’s internal world was deeply and intrinsically cruel. He did not know another world. Nobody could design a universe as awful and horrific as the star system, because he lived in the most hostile and dangerous world in Seoul. 

“If fictional characters are the only people who’ll miss you when you die,” I said, as I became the monster that chased this child for eternity, “then you should just die!”

I raised my sword and bore it down upon the child. The child curled into a ball, covering his head. Of course he did. Didn’t run, didn’t fight back. Didn’t even protest. Just sat there and took it. 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was distant, but it penetrated my haze. “That is a child , Kim Dokja!”

“He’s used to it,” I said.

I thrust my sword towards his heart.

It never landed. At the last possible second, a dagger appeared and knocked my sword off course. Han Sooyoung stood in front of me, tears running down her face. As heavy and ugly as the child’s own tears: a perfect match. 

“Don’t you dare!” Han Sooyoung cried, voice thick. “Don’t you dare become another person who hurts him!”

“This is what we came here to do, Han Sooyoung.”

The child huddled behind her, and Han Sooyoung thrust out a hand to cover him - just as the 999th turn Han Sooyoung had protected me. “Hey, I didn’t sign up to kill you as a baby! Don’t you think we need to talk about this first? Look behind you - nobody here wants to hurt you!”

Liar. Everybody wants to hurt him. Nobody would ever try to protect him. 

But I looked behind myself anyway, and to my surprise I saw that every single member of my company had moved forward in an attempt to stop me. Jung Heewon’s sword was in her hand ready to swing, and Lee Hyunsung was fully metal and ready to absorb a powerful blow. Yoo Joonghyuk was the closest, less than a yard away, and he clearly would have stepped in if Han Sooyoung hadn’t. Yoo Joonghyuk, of all people? Yoo Joonghyuk should want him dead the most. 

Nobody in this subway station was a fictional character. So why…?

“You told me that an ending where we have to kill a child isn’t an ending you want!” Han Sooyoung said furiously. Her passion was somewhat undercut by the sniffles. “I’m not going to kill off baby you like you’re - like you’re baby Hitler or something!” 

“I’m basically baby Hitler,” I said, straight-faced.

“What is wrong with you -”

The child was looking up at her. Despite everything, he could recognize her just fine. Her appearance and aesthetic hadn’t changed much from her teenage self. Wonder why. 

Quietly, he said, “Sooyoung’s…Mom…?”

“God,” Han Sooyoung said, rubbing at her nose, “can you fucking imagine?”

I had the same thought. Twenty eight years old and I had still looked at Han Sooyoung like a child. The child that wouldn’t die. I would become the childkiller. That wouldn’t make up for what I did to Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk, but it would be a start. 

I pushed her aside with all of the force I could muster, sending her flying away and hitting a column. The child cringed, reflexively curling inwards. Before anybody else could get in my damn way, I swung at the child.

My sword shattered off a protective barrier. I knew instinctively that it was completely impenetrable. To me, at least: the scary man standing over him. Pushing the woman protecting him out of the way. The monster. The child’s greatest enemy, locked in an eternal stalemate with that barrier. With the words that child was muttering.

“I’m Yoo Joonghyuk,” the child recited to himself. “I’m Yoo Joonghyuk, I’m Yoo Joonghyuk -”

[The Architect of the Fourth Wall is reliving his childhood.]

That child had a child within him too. A child that never left him alone. A child that haunted every nightmare and lurked in his subconscious. And on, and on, and on…

[The Fourth Wall knows that the scary monster isn’t real!]

[The Fourth Wall is assuring you that the scary monster can’t hurt you.]

[The Fourth Wall is telling you a story about Yoo Joonghyuk.]

[Yoo Joonghyuk is being very brave and strong in your story.]

[The Fourth Wall knows that you can be brave and strong just like Yoo Joonghyuk!]

The inner child that haunted me. The inner child that protected me. The Fourth Wall that the child built. 

I swung the sword uselessly at the barrier again, but I was blown back. I skidded onto the clean cement floor as all of my companions rushed in, beating at the barrier and calling out to the child who was too well-protected to hear them. Han Sooyoung had already pushed herself upwards and rushed towards the child, saying something to him that he couldn’t hear over the sound of his story.

Looks like they couldn’t succeed either. This was just another problem. I could solve a problem. I could solve any problem. I was Kim Dokja. Kim Dokja was practically omniscient, he must know something about Ways of Survival that would help in this situation.

I remembered [Disconnected Film Theory]. 

That’ll do it.

“I don’t actually hate you,” I whispered. 

[The Architect of the Fourth Wall knows that you were just sad.]

“Desperate.” Was I even whispering? Was I only thinking these words? “I’m sorry I’m so desperate.”

A familiar roar in the distance began. I paid it no mind.

[The Fourth Wall has kept you alive all this time.]

[The Architect of the Fourth Wall is sorry that his protection hurts.]

The roar grew loud, and ground itself to a halt. 

I was sorry too. I was sorrier than he knew.

I brought up the shattered remains of my sword and thrust it towards my throat.

It stopped short only centimeters from my throat. Blood filled my vision. A large, comforting hand was gripping my sword tight, allowing the ultra-sharp blade to dig into his palm. Yoo Joonghyuk held my sword at bay. 

The second I fully registered that I was hurting him, I let the sword fall. Yoo Joonghyuk stood up, letting the blood drip from his hand onto my white coat. He looked down at me. I couldn’t understand his expression. 

“You should want him dead more than anybody else,” I hissed.

But Yoo Joonghyuk just looked down on me, somber and sad. “Was none of this real to you?”

“There’s no other way -”

“It was real to me, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “It was my reality.”

“Everybody stop him!”

Then every friend I had dog-piled me and held me down onto the floor. I struggled and fought against them, trying to bring the sword back to my throat, but some part of me was only putting up a token resistance. The rest of me fought that part, trying to suffocate it and make it disappear, but when my company threw all of their strength behind that stubborn part of myself the rest of me stood no chance.

I caught the distinctive smell of spilled ink.

“Joonghyuk!” Han Sooyoung cried, and in my shock Hyunsung finally managed to snatch my sword from me and throw it far away. Damn it. “Are you - what the hell?”

My company, satisfied that I was dearmed and that Yoo Joonghyuk was in trouble, scrambled off me and split their attempts to rush over towards him and restrain me. I managed to finally force myself upright just in time to see Yoo Joonghyuk vomit a pool of ink. It seemed painful and deeply uncomfortable, and Lee Jihye began frantically patting him on the back as Lee Gilyoung smoothed his floppy hair out of his face. Streams of ink came pouring out of his mouth until it pooled on the ground, until finally a shadowy figure rose from the ink and coalesced into a humanoid figure. 

This was out of my hands now. The Secretive Plotter deserved his revenge. I fully subsided, allowing the rest of my company to scramble off me and release me from my overly enthusiastic prison. As the bloodlust fell from my aura the transformation melted away. I forced myself to my feet. 

The Secretive Plotter didn’t say anything. He just walked towards the child. 

Yoo Joonghyuk growled, putting his hand on his sword hilt. We all knew it was useless. “Don’t you dare -!”

“Doesn’t he deserve this?” I cried. “It’s all Kim Dokja’s fault!”

“Don’t talk about yourself in the third person!” Han Sooyoung cried furiously. “That’s you! Damn it, you fucking moron, that’s you !”

“That’s the problem -”

Secretive Plotter stood in front of the child’s barrier. The child’s eyes were screwed shut, and he could not see him.

“I’m Yoo Joonghyuk,” the child repeated, in front of the Yoo Joonghyuk whose life and sanity he had ruined. “I’m Yoo Joonghyuk, I’m Yoo Joonghyuk, I’m Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“You are not Yoo Joonghyuk,” Secretive Plotter said, almost calmly. As calm as I was. “I am Yoo Joonghyuk.”

The child opened his eyes. 

Subway doors slid open. This, of all things, was what I heard.

We all turned as one to look behind us, even the Secretive Plotter. At first, I saw just the flash of a white coat. Its bearer had exited the subway running, as if she had been beating at the doors for a long time and was only just freed. She only ran at human speed, but the raw desperation in that speed made her feel faster than Electrification. 

“Dokja!” The 1863rd turn Han Sooyoung cried. “ Dokja !”

The barrier fell in an instant. The child uncurled, eyes brightening. He recognized the figure when he did not recognize Han Sooyoung. He understood immediately what I could not. 

“Sooyoung?” Dokja cried. “Sooyoung!”

The 1863rd Han Sooyoung ran past my company. She ran past myself and the 3rd turn Han Sooyoung. She ignored the Secretive Plotter completely, and almost fell to the ground as she skidded to her knees and embraced Dokja. 

“It can’t be,” Dokja mumbled. He gripped tight onto her, scrabbling desperately at her white coat, as if she could be nobody else. “No. Sooyoung is somewhere else and she’s happy. Sooyoung is somewhere else and she’s happy. Sooyoung is somewhere else and she’s happy.”

A dream older than Heaven. That they still existed someplace distant from you. That they were happy and together.

“I’m here, I’m here, I promise - I’m finally in front of you.” The 1863rd turn Han Sooyoung separated from him, gripping his forearms tightly. She spoke too quickly, almost tripping over her words. “You don’t need to be scared, I’m a constellation and I’m your friend and I’m right here.”

Secretive Plotter slid his hands into the pocket of his white coat. Identical to hers, identical to mine - the same coat on a carousel around time and space. “You exist far beyond the boundaries of this child’s imagination, Sooyoung.”

“His imagination isn’t the problem here, asshole!” 1863rd Han Sooyoung snapped. Secretive Plotter slotted her a somber look that must have held meaning to them. She turned back to the child, gripping him as if he was a rock in stormy seas. “I can explain, I swear. You remember the isekais I loved, right? I got fucking isekai’d, I swear - I know it’s stupid, but it’s the truth! I finally made it here, I made it past the Final Wall, but then I was on that stupid fucking subway again and I rode it to the end, and - and - Dokja -”

Dokja was shaking his head, drawing away from her. “Sooyoung is someplace else, you left me! People don’t come back from there, that’s the point!”

The 1863rd turn’s Han Sooyoung -

The 1863rd -

Han Sooyoung -

Sooyoung -

“I came back. I changed my mind. I didn’t want to leave you here, I wanted to come back. You have no idea how badly.” Sooyoung stopped short, reading something in her words or in Dokja’s own face, and she slowly let her hands fall from his forearms. “This station…you, as that snotty teen…this is how I’ve always imagined this. It’s unchanged. Like in my dreams…”

Fat tears were rolling down the child’s cheeks, and he scrubbed at them with the heel of a hand. “Sooyoung…you weren’t supposed to come home…”

Secretive Plotter’s scarred face was stone. “An old memory’s no better than a dream. Two memories and two dreams by the only two readers. Of course. You may be the only person from reality’s worldline left in the star stream, Sooyoung.” Not even Kim Dokja - Kim Dokja, from reality turned fantasy, the Dream dreaming of itself - was as real as the woman who was taken from a distant home. "If this place is Kim Dokja's, it is also Han Sooyoung's. Your dreams and memories. Where you began and ended."

“All these years hoping I’d find you at the end of this book.” Sooyoung raised a single hand and brushed the back of her fingers against his round cheek. Small, broken-hearted, wondrous, she said, “Have you been waiting here for so long, Dokja? How long did you wait for my train to come?”

“Until Yoo Joonghyuk got here,” the child said. He looked up at Secretive Plotter, whose dark stories crackled around his coat. “I knew he’d save you one day. Did it take a long time? Did you get homesick?”

“Yeah, Dokja,” Sooyoung whispered, voice cracking, “I was pretty homesick.”

The Oldest Dream: a dream of home.

“I’m not here to save you.” Despite everything, for the first time Secretive Plotter seemed almost rattled. “I don’t know how much of these proceedings you heard, Sooyoung, but this child is -”

“Yeah, yeah. Your cursed benefactor.” Sooyoung stood up, wiping her face with an abused coat sleeve. The gesture was intimately familiar to me - a gesture I had only ever seen in her. “This is a fragment of the oldest power in the star stream. It’s a fragment we all have inside of us. People like Dokja drown themselves in this power. It suffocated me too. Maybe Kim Dokja is its own participation in its fantasies. That would explain why there’s only one.” Sooyoung stopped short, seemingly unaware of the insane existential crises she sent me spiraling into. “There’s only one Kim Dokja in the worldlines. There’s only one Oldest Dream, and he only has one self-insert Avatar. Which means that the emotionally damaged asshole in a white coat is…”

Sooyoung turned around and saw me. I saw her. 

Our meeting in that 1863rd turn was a sad story told to each other: the only way Sooyoung and I had ever known how to communicate. We were trapped in the web of our scenarios and constellations. Here, beyond the end of the world, at the end of the scenarios…

Sooyoung and I saw each other again.

Chapter Text

Sooyoung and I saw each other again.

I don’t know who moved first. I don’t know who moved faster, who grabbed the other first. I don’t know who squeezed tighter. I don’t know who initiated the kiss. I only knew that Sooyoung was in my arms and that we were pouring ourselves into each other.

It was nothing like our kiss in the 1863rd turn. She was gripping desperately onto my coat, as if she’d collapse if she couldn’t hold onto me, and I held her as if we could melt into one inseparable person if I only gripped her tight enough.

It felt like forever before we broke for air. It was probably obnoxiously long. I was distantly aware of Lee Hyunsung covering Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung’s eyes. Jang Hayoung was making mournful noises. I sensed Biyoo pop her nose back into the scene, hopeful that it was over, before quickly bleating in horror and disappearing again. Jung Heewon was loudly asking what the fuck was going on. I couldn’t pay attention to any of it. I could only feel Sooyoung’s forehead on my chest as she shuddered deep breaths. My cheeks were hot and wet too. 

[‘Your Dead High School Female Best Friend’ wants to tell a different story!]

[A mythic story is growing!]

“They found your body in the river.” It felt bizarrely rude to bring up a woman’s corpse in front of her, but I hadn’t exactly prepared a list of topics to mention to her. “I thought you’d been murdered.”

Sooyoung sniffled, shaking her head. “What? No, I got truck-kun’d.”

“ Truck-kun’d ?”

“Must have been a hit and run. Bastard driver must have tried to hide my body. Damn it, murdered would have been cooler.” Sooyoung sniffed again, rubbing at her nose. “This is so unfair. You had to see my ugly corpse. I never washed my hair in high school and now I’m almost thirty and you completely missed my hot era. I was really smoking, Dokja.”

“You’re still really hot,” I said helplessly. Were you supposed to say that to women? Would they get offended? “Uh, I mean - you’re beautiful to me. And objectively, to society.”

“You made my character way hotter than me!”

“Han Sooyoung was how I saw you.” Did she not know that? Did she think I had tried to improve on her? Han Sooyoung had only ever been Han Sooyoung. “She’s the person you are to me. Wasn’t it obvious?”

[A mythic story is unfurling!]

We felt the story deep in our chests. The reader and writer recognized the story immediately. It was the kind of story Sooyoung never liked writing and I never liked reading. We knew it was never a story meant for us. 

The child sitting on the bench was still looking at us. I knew he was feeling something he had never felt before. He was reading this story in hope.

“Are you done trying to kill yourself?” Sooyoung asked faintly. “Because I’m gonna be real, your comments kinda kept me going, and - you know, the potential of seeing you again was the ending I had to write - but you literally just made me watch you try and stab yourself for like the third time, and it really wasn’t funny.”

“Sorry.” At that moment, I really did feel ashamed. She had no idea three was a very conservative estimate for my suicide attempts, but I had already resolved never to tell her. “I - I won’t do that again. If you promise to stay too…”

“God, I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry. I’m a hypocrite. I wanted to ditch you. I wanted to ditch everything too.” Sooyoung sniffed hard, clearly uncomfortable with her own overwhelming emotions. That was Sooyoung, across all boundaries. “I always wanted to be far away. AlI those fantasies I always dumped on you, Dokja - I just couldn’t live in this world. Authors, you know…they’d rather be anywhere else than here. And - and I got what I wanted, in my favorite world in my favorite book, but it just kind of sucked and you weren’t there, and I left you alone -”

“I survived,” I said weakly. “I was okay. I still had you…in my kinda pathetic way.”

Han Sooyoung reached up and cupped my cheek. Her eyes were so tired. Her face was strong and mature. This woman had weathered it all, and she felt it all on her shoulders. “I didn’t want you to survive,” she said simply. “I wanted you to live. That was the ending I wanted for you. That’s why I had to come home.” 

“I think we destroyed the Earth,” I said apologetically.

“That’s not my home.”

[A mythic story ‘A Wish Your Heart Makes’ has revealed itself!]

“Holy shit,” Sooyoung said, “that’s worse. That’s worse than the dead girlfriend one. I fucking hate that.”

“Are all of your stories dream themed?” I asked, strangely fascinated.

“ I’m dream themed, it’s, like, my motif - that’s not the point here, the point is that we’ve gone fucking Disney -”

“I don’t know,” I said. “There’s a reason Disney has lasting and universal appeal. This sort of ending is obligatory in many different genres, and without that expected ending the reader is left feeling unsatisfied. Say what you will about Disney, but it’s perfected the crowd-pleaser ending formula.”

“It’s fucking derivative , is what it is -”

“I like derivative,” I said, and I kissed her again.

And again. The children began loudly complaining. We kissed until we couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore, and we had to break apart to wheeze. We pressed our foreheads together, still giggling, and we couldn’t bear to separate until the Secretive Plotter loudly cleared his throat.

Crap. We fully separated, facing the Secretive Plotter standing next to the utterly mortified Dokja. He had his hands pressed over his eyes and everything. He was utterly vulnerable. Secretive Plotter wouldn’t even have to move to kill him.

“Is that what all of this has been for?” Secretive Plotter asked. He wanted to ask it harshly, but his voice just came out as hoarse. “Fantasies and a coping mechanism?”

“It’s not for anything!” Sooyoung snapped. “It’s the wound of an abused child! You want to blame anybody, blame the people who hurt him! He’s just a kid who needed comfort.”

“His comfort was my torture.” Secretive Plotter was still standing by him. He could kill him at any time. “My revenge has been my reason for existence the past millennia. I won’t let this go.”

Dokja dropped his hands and looked up at Secretive Plotter, eyes wide. “You are Yoo Joonghyuk…”

Sooyoung whirled on me, face red. “Dokja, don’t tell me you’re still going to let him do this!” I hesitated, just a beat too long. “Are you kidding me? What did you just promise me?”

“It’s not for me to decide,” I protested weakly. “This is the ending that the Oldest Dream deserves. He has a debt to Secretive Plotter. He has to pay that. He owes that to him.”

“I - I don’t care how much you two hate that kid, got it? That’s the kid I loved so much!” Sooyoung jabbed a finger at Dokja, who had finally lowered his hands from his face and was gaping at the sight. “That’s the kid who saved me! I’m going to beat both of your asses simultaneously if you put one finger on that kid -”

“This is a cool character sheet.” 

Sooyoung and I jerked away, and we both gaped at the sight. 

The 999th turn Han Sooyoung was standing in front of Dokja. She had picked up the character sheet from the ground, and she was making a show of reading it closely. She looked seventeen years old. She looked just like I’d always imagined her. Not exactly like my own Sooyoung, but just close enough for comfort. My - the 3rd turn Han Sooyoung looked identical to Sooyoung, and they both only resembled this 999th version. 

Other figures were melting out of the Secretive Plotter’s shadow. The 999th Lee Jihye. The 999th Kim Namwoon. The 999th Lee Hyunsung and the 999th Uriel. Why…how…

“Am I wearing a leather jacket?” 999th Han Sooyoung announced. She held the paper out in front of her eyes like she was a grandmother squinting at small text. “Wow, that’s awesome. Look at all those belts. And that dyed hair streak! Way too cool.”

Dokja gaped up at her. Something began to light up his dead and lifeless eyes. “No way. You’re really…”

The 999th Han Sooyoung grinned, standing in front of him and adopting a power pose. “That’s right! It’s the super cool, super awesome Han Sooyoung. And you have to be the famous Kim Dokja, right?” Dokja nodded fervently, and the 999th Han Sooyoung ceremoniously stuck out a hand. “It’s great to finally meet you! It’s not everyday somebody meets their - ah, and it does feel kinda - anyway! I’ve heard great things about you.”

Dokja’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “I’m talking to Han Sooyoung?”

The 999th Han Sooyoung nodded solemnly. “The badass, awesome -”

“Dreamwalker! Heir of the Breaking the Sky school! Honorary Queen of Hell!” Dokja’s face split into a wide grin, and he was practically bouncing in his seat. “You mobilized the Titan army in Gigantomachia and beat up ten demon kings simultaneously and scammed the entire Norse Pantheon out of their money! You’re my favorite! You - you’re the best!”

Kim Namwoon stepped forward, leaning on the 999th Han Sooyoung’s shoulder. He had made the decision first. Was it easiest for him, or hardest of all? “Hey, what about me? The Delusional Demon? Aren’t I badass?”

Dokja pursed his lips. “You’re okay.”

“ Okay ?” Kim Namwoon dramatically pressed a hand to his head. “Slaughtered by a baby. Yet again, I guess. The giant spaceship I built in the 70th scenario wasn’t cool enough for you?”

“The spaceship was pretty cool,” Dokja admitted grudgingly. He deliberated another moment, before finally adding, “Abaddon’s a cool sponsor. It’s all Lord of the Flies.”

“So long as my sponsor’s cool,” Kim Namwoon said, mollified. He looked back at Lee Jihye, who hesitated a split second before walking up and joining them. “I bet the squirt thinks my sponsor’s way cooler than your sponsor. He’s just a line in a textbook and a dusty old statue. I’m spiders . We obviously know who wins.”

Lee Jihye jokingly narrowed her eyes at Dokja. “Vote carefully, brat.”

“The spiders have more raw power and have greater versatility in stealth missions and sneak attacks,” Dokja reported. Lee Jihye groaned, and he quickly added, “But Kim Namwoon never uses them for sneak attacks like he should , his fighting style does not optimize his potential at all. I can think of fifty awesome ways to use Abaddon. And just because your sponsor isn’t strong doesn’t mean you can’t grow even stronger than him, Lee Jihye. And you’re a way cooler love interest for Han Sooyoung.”

“I just can’t win with this kid!”

Uriel stepped forward, almost last. But her smile was the softest, and she was the first to sit next to him on the bench. “How am I as a sponsor?”

“You don’t sponsor anybody,” Dokja informed her. “But you totally should. You’re the nicest Constellation and you love all of the characters the most. You’re just afraid to grow close to humans in case you disappoint them. But any incarnation would be totally proud to have you as their sponsor! Even if you disappoint them, they’d still like you. And your incarnation would get a fire sword. They’d be the most heroic incarnation in the star stream.”

Jung Heewon turned away, pressing hard at her eyes. 

“Ey, how come I didn’t get a fire sword?” Lee Jihye protested, crossing her arms. “You couldn’t have given me a fire sword, little god of suffering?”

“How would that work on water?” Dokja asked blankly.

“...little god of suffering and good sense.”

“Am I a god of suffering?” Dokja asked, perturbed. “I don’t…I think Sooyoung would rather be the god of suffering. But just on bad guys, you know…I don’t like that kind of thing at all.”

“No,” Secretive Plotter said. “You are just the mechanism by which it exists.”

He stepped forward, and his companions quickly stepped out of the way. He stood in front of Dokja, large and imposing, but Dokja looked up at him without fear. How could he be afraid of Yoo Joonghyuk? 

Secretive Plotter hesitated. Sooyoung grabbed my hand, and I squeezed it tightly.

The Secretive Plotter crouched down in front of Dokja. He took one of the open notebooks scattered next to him, flipping lightly through its worn pages. He stopped at a page cramped with drawings. 

Stiffly and strangely, he asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s a cosmology of the star stream,” Dokja said eagerly. He reached out and pointed at the page. “See, there’s the Norse nebula…there’s the Greeks, and there’s the Indians.”

Secretive Plotter squinted at the map. “This is based on the real night sky.”

“Yep! I used the North Pole in the winter equinox. I had to look at a lot of books in the library, but it should be accurate.”

“That’s very smart.” Secretive Plotter flipped the page, squinting at the back. “And what’s this?”

“A map of the Underworld! I tried reading the Iliad for good reference, but it wasn’t too helpful, so I ended up using the illustrations in Dante’s Inferno instead. They pulled double duty for Hell, so I had to get kind of creative…I like the Underworld, though.”

Secretive Plotter scrutinized the picture carefully, rapt attention fully on Dokja.“Why?”

Dokja shrugged. “I like to imagine Han Sooyoung running around being chaotic. She loved Hades and Persephone, she said they were goth. They would really like her, I think…”

“Oh, they love me.” 999th Han Sooyoung said promptly, putting her hands on her hips. “I think Persephone was two steps away from adopting me. What can I say, I have charm.”

Kim Namwoon elbowed her. “The only thing you have is a venereal disease.” 

She elbowed him back, much harder. “You’re a thousand year old virgin.”

“I’m sorry,” Lee Jihye said, folding her arms. “And where would Sooyoung have gotten a -”

“Never mind, I said nothing!”

Uriel frowned. “But gods can’t get -”

“I like your drawings very much. I would like to hear more about them.” Secretive Plotter carefully closed the notebook. He looked Dokja solemnly in the eyes, and Dokja looked back. The power in both gazes must have been incredible, but neither flinched. “Do you want to come with my friends and I?”

Dokja frowned at him, a little wary. “And go where?”

“Someplace peaceful,” Secretive Plotter said. “Where we’re happy to live.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung propped a hand on Secretive Plotter’s back, leaning on him and making him scowl. “In a big house, oppa?” 999th Han Sooyoung asked delightedly. “With a red roof?”

“A dog!” Kim Namwoon cried passionately. “Five dogs!”

“Seven dogs,” Lee Jihye whispered, equally passionately.

“ Ten dogs -”

“We’ll see.” Secretive Plotter straightened, offering his hand. Dokja stared at it, eyes wide. “Do you want to come with us, Dokja?”

Dokja reached out and took his hand. The moment he stood up the subway’s horn began blaring, warning of imminent departure. It was time to go. 

“Isn’t this just more running away?” Sooyoung demanded. She was deeply conflicted - an unusual and unwelcome emotion for her. “How is this different from just another escapist fantasy?”

Secretive Plotter looked at her, eyes dark and sad. There was something alive in him, just alive enough to feel grief. “You weren’t the only one searching for home, Sooyoung.”

They exchanged something strange. I understood it well. I half expected her to run up and kiss him goodbye, but they just nodded at each other in understanding. Secretive Plotter looked at me, sharing that understanding with me, and I squeezed Sooyoung’s hand. He nodded and turned away. 

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped forward to speak with him in a low voice - and, I suspect, to say goodbye to the Oldest Dream. I was just about to eavesdrop on their conversation when a large force suddenly collided with me, and I almost brought Sooyoung down with me as I stumbled backwards. 

It was the 999th turn Han Sooyoung. I had to quickly release Sooyoung to hug her back. It was kind of an awkward hug, but she didn’t mind. When she released me she was smiling broadly. I wondered if it was the same smile she had given Dokja, or if it was another one entirely. I couldn’t know. 

“Sorry our first meeting was so crappy. And sorry we’re parting so soon. But thank you, okay? Thank you for everything.”

It didn’t feel right that she was apologizing to me. “Sorry for dooming you to a cursed existence full of suffering and almost a thousand gruesome deaths?”

The 999th Han Sooyoung waved a hand, as if it didn’t matter at all. “Don’t get full of yourself. A stable time loop guaranteed my existence.”

“What?”

“ What ?” Sooyoung asked. 

The 3rd Han Sooyoung popped up at Sooyoung’s elbow, startling her greatly. The woman had to be used to seeing copies of herself everywhere, but the 3rd Han Sooyoung seemed to hit differently. Urgently, the 3rd Han Sooyoung said, “Does this have anything to do with my brain ghost? Because that would actually make a lot of sense -”

Sooyoung choked. “ Brain ghost ? How can you have brain ghost? I’m the only one who’s supposed to have brain ghost!”

Han Sooyoung sniffed, turning away. “Never mind. Nobody who spends that much time making out with Kim Dokja has anything rattling around up there.”

“ Excuse me -”

“Sucking face with that is not the sign of a rational mind.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung snickered. “Then why were you blushing the whole time they were making out?”

“It was from disgust ,” Han Sooyoung said snootily. 

“Sure, unnie. Did oppa turn away and get super pissy from disgust too?”

“You’re thousands of years old, don’t you unnie me - !”

Sooyoung sighed and kneaded her forehead. She leaned in and told me in a low voice, “This is what my brain is like. All of the time. I’m going grey. Says she’s got fucking brain ghost…how did my Avatar even get here?”

I blinked down at Sooyoung. “The Avatar body is pretty recent, but that’s the original Han Sooyoung from this timeline.”

“Do you think I can’t recognize one of my Avatar’s consciousnesses?” Sooyoung asked, peeved. I immediately broke into apologies. I could already tell having a girlfriend would be rough. Somewhat under her breath - and somewhat disturbed - my questionable girlfriend said, “But I really don’t remember a lot…”

What? Han Sooyoung’s attention snapped to Sooyoung too, eyes wide, before snapping to me. I shrugged helplessly. She scowled and turned away. Very ‘well, ask your new girlfriend ’. 

But 999th Han Sooyoung just hummed, chewing on a lock of hair. She’d never grown out of that habit. “That explains that. There was no Han Sooyoung in this worldline before the scenarios.” 

What ? “Sooyoung’s from this worldline. When my worldline got spliced with the 3rd turn’s worldline, the Ways of Survival Han Sooyoung was added into the world.”

The ‘spliced’ thing was my best guess for what had happened. Sooyoung had been correct: there was only one Kim Dokja, in one worldline. The original worldline of the 3rd turn definitely didn’t feature me. We obviously weren’t in the reality or 3rd turn worldlines anymore, so Han Sooyoung and I could only conclude that we currently existed in a bizarre chimera worldline and that the reality worldline was probably either amputated or destroyed. We had been very drunk and somewhat depressed about it. 

According to the Secretive Plotter, the 1863rd turn had connected with my reality a long time ago - probably Sooyoung’s terrible isekai experience. It was why 1863 featured people and one specific website from my chimera reality. And Kim Dokja, from far away. 

I turned to Sooyoung, an uncomfortable feeling creeping down my neck. “You have knowledge of the other rounds, right? Can you check the history of this round and look for Han Sooyoung?

“Obviously. We all do. I can read any round.” Sooyoung frowned, eyes sparking a light purple, before reporting, “I can’t read my history in this round.”

“You can’t what ?”

“I can predict what happened in the original third round.” Left unsaid: nobody could predict whatever the fuck you got up to in this round. “I have clear records of Ways of Survival Han Sooyoung in the third round. But there’s nothing written about Han Sooyoung in this third round. I never even realized. That doesn’t track. If there was no Han Sooyoung in reality or the 3rd round on either end of this worldline, then how did…”

“I remember my life just fine!” Han Sooyoung protested. “I definitely existed before the scenarios!”

“I don’t know why we would splice with the only 3rd turn worldline where Han Sooyoung never existed. Or why she would exist in a timeline where she didn’t exist. She really felt like one of yours?” I shot Han Sooyoung a significant look, who held her hands up in a silent plea for innocence. She had no idea about the Avatar thing - about any of this - either. “How did one of your Avatars hop backwards 1860 rounds?”

Sooyoung waved a dismissive hand. “Hopping dimensions isn’t that hard. 1860 rounds is pushing it, but any dimension in a radius of - oh shit.”

“Like I said,” 999th Han Sooyoung said. “Stable time loop.”

“ Fuck .”

“Sooyoung?” I was growing alarmed, and Han Sooyoung was looking increasingly freaked. “What happened? Please tell me you didn’t fuck up the time stream.”

Sooyoung shook herself away from me. She looked truly spooked. “I need to go yell at the rat bastard who might have lied to me. Cheers. Be right back.”

“Hey! You can’t just drop that shit and run off!” Han Sooyoung seemed to have decided she deeply disliked Sooyoung. Which felt a little unfair, but on another level very fair. “What do you mean I’m your Avatar!”

It was too late. Sooyoung had already physically wrested Yoo Joonghyuk away from his conversation with the Secretive Plotter, placing Dokja in the responsible hands of the 999th Uriel before dragging him away and staring intently at him. I recognized the looks from both of them - they were using Midday Tryst. Judging by the way Yoo Joonghyuk beelined for my group, he had noticed the same thing. 

“Joonghyuk! You have the memories of endless torment now, right?” Han Sooyoung snapped her fingers at him impatiently. I would prefer it if she got off the endless torment topic. “Do you remember hanging out with me in the original first three rounds?”

Yoo Joonghyuk blinked sleepily at her. “Sure. You were pretty useless.” He frowned, staring vaguely into the distance. “You were definitely a teenager…I remember that now. Before I received the memories of every regression, I had assumed you were an adult. Strange.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung sniffed, crossing her arms. Han Sooyoung’s brow was furrowed. “What, you thought a teen girl couldn’t keep up with you?”

I could hear Han Sooyoung muttering to herself beside me. All four of us could hear, but I was likely the only person who paid attention. “The original third round had a teenage Han Sooyoung. The third round we’ve lived in had no Han Sooyoung. I’m an Avatar of the adult Han Sooyoung from reality. What the fuck …”

I was beginning to get a bad feeling too. I leaned in, whispering to her. “Did Sooyoung send you to this worldline?”

“Why the fuck would she do that?” Han Sooyoung whispered harshly. I shrugged. “She obviously doesn’t remember doing that. Which means I should remember doing that. But I don’t. Unnie’s making it sound like the Secretive Plotter had something to do with it. Ugh! My head hurts.”

“Why are you calling her unnie?”

“Vibes! I don’t know!”

As always, Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung were caught up in their own world. They had smiles for each other I had never seen. I used to be happy for her. Now I was just a little jealous. 

“What did we even do in the original third round?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked. “It feels so long ago.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung snorted, barely hiding a smile. “The round where you dumped me off with Master and ditched me for a year. Going senile already, Oppa?”

“You’re too old to call me that,” Yoo Joong hyuk said automatically. 

“You’re always whining like that once I’m an adult.” 999th Han Sooyoung grinned, bright and full. “I got your number, oppa. You never actually minded.”

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I liked it.”

She dived forward and gave him a tight hug, and Yoo Joonghyuk returned it just as closely. I realized, far too late, that this was the first time my Yoo Joonghyuk had been reunited with the true novel Han Sooyoung. I had always wondered what they would be like. I had always been sad to miss it.

Han Sooyoung was giving them both strange looks. I elbowed her a little in companionship. She elbowed me back, much harder. 

I knew, of course. They had known each other in the third round. The fourth round flashback had confirmed it - they had actually known each other since the very first regression. Han Sooyoung had been clunkily retconned into earlier regressions, and the random ‘this totally happened we just didn’t mention it’ scenes from the first few regressions are some of the first scenes we ever see from the first and second regression. 

The flashback chapter depicting Han Sooyoung playing with Yoo Joonghyuk’s unnamed daughter at her first birthday party as Yoo Joonghyuk and Lee Seolwha proudly looked over them was heartbreaking. The entire birthday party was blown up only seconds after Yoo Joonghyuk used his sword to cut the cake. Han Sooyoung had died protecting the baby. It was all very angsty, but I don’t remember getting too upset reading it the first time. Their tragedy was already written.

“You look happy,” 999th Han Sooyoung whispered. 

“I believe in our good ending.” Yoo Joonghyuk released her, and he carefully squeezed her on the shoulder once before letting go. “I’m sorry our endings won’t be shared.”

“Will they?” 999th Han Sooyoung asked mysteriously. “You’re Yoo Joonghyuk, after all.”

“And you’re Han Sooyoung.” Yoo Joonghyuk halted, hesitant like he rarely was. “Is this goodbye?”

“Between Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung?”

“Between you and me.”

“Yes.” 999th Han Sooyoung smiled, soft and real. “Goodbye, oppa.”

“Goodbye, Sooyoung-ah.”

[The Outer God Han Sooyoung has met her [][].] 

[The Outer God Han Sooyoung’s [][] is ‘Goodbye’.]

The 999th Han Sooyoung smiled again, a little apologetically. “So you don’t need to hear ‘See you later’ anymore, huh? That makes me happy.”

“I didn’t need it.”

“Of course you did,” 999th said, calm and sure. “You needed to know I would come back next time. I told you I always would, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “You did.”

The 999th Han Sooyoung looked back at me and Han Sooyoung. She nodded firmly at the both of us, smiling again. “Kim Dokja. Thank you for being born.” I nodded stiffly back, fighting the thickness in my throat, before she turned to Han Sooyoung. “Han Sooyoung. That empty feeling inside of you…do you think it’s time?”

Han Sooyoung clutched at her chest, expression falling. “Does it have to be?”

“No,” she said simply. “It’s your choice. No matter what you decide to do - it’ll be your own ending.”

Han Sooyoung was silent. I wanted to hug the 999th Han Sooyoung again, but in the end I could only wave her goodbye as she ran to catch up with her own friends. They were waiting by the subway doors, chatting and laughing with each other, yelling at Secretive Plotter to hurry up. Sooyoung had graduated from yelling at him to slapping his arm. He actually winced.

The subway horn blared its final warning, and Sooyoung huffed and stepped away. She closed Midday Tryst and embraced him tightly as they whispered something into each other’s ears before she finally separated from him and shooed him away. Dokja finally escaped the enthusiastic clutches of Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung and ran back to the Secretive Plotter. He clutched the older man’s hand tightly with one hand, grasping the 999th Han Sooyoung’s smaller hand with his other, and dragged them both onto the train. 

They all stood at the doorway, waving and yelling goodbye. Dokja was pumping his arm the hardest, sparing no glance for the notebooks left behind. 

“Goodbye!” Dokja called. “Goodbye, everybody!”

The kids squealed goodbye, and Lee Hyunsung boomed a hearty goodbye far too loudly. Sooyoung smiled fondly and wriggled her fingers. 

“Bye, kid,” Sooyoung whispered. “Good luck.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung rolled their eyes and looked pointedly away. “He won’t need it.”

Sooyoung leaned against me, head falling on my shoulder. “Maybe your wildest dreams do come true sometimes.”

“Sometimes she does come back,” I said quietly.

“Sometimes you do see him again.”

[The Demon King of Salvation has forgiven the Oldest Dream.]

[Sometimes this happens too.]

Every companion from the 999th turn shouted goodbye, and all of my companions shouted in return, until the subway doors closed and the train finally pulled away from the station. We finally subsided into silence as we watched the train leave for a destination far away, where a child was never hurt and a family could find peace. Where a restless soul could find someplace warm and safe.

The silence stretched between us in a final moment of calm and peace. 

“Okay,” Jung Heewon said, “what the fuck is happening?”

Shin Yoosung raised her hand. “Why does ahjussi have a girlfriend and why is she Sooyoung-unnie?”

“Who were all of those guys?” Lee Gilyoung asked, somewhat freaked.

“Did Dokja-ssi create the universe?” Lee Hyunsung asked, more than a little distressed. “Is Dokja-ssi God? Did God just leave?”

“I knew it,” Jang Hayoung whispered. 

Lee Seolwha looked around the station, somewhat anxiously. “I don’t think we’re meant to stay in a place like this. Especially without its…master. We ought to move on.”

“I agree,” Yoo Sangah said. “Move on where, though…”

Sooyoung clapped her hands sharply, and every eye fell on her. I abruptly remembered that this woman had been President of Humanity or something for a while now. Maybe she only truly wanted one thing, but she had taken her responsibility to the 1863rd turn seriously. Where were her own company? Had they grown separated, or had they been lost with her world?

“I’m Han Sooyoung, from turn 1863 and also reality.” Half the company mouthed the word ‘reality’ to themselves with a healthy degree of skepticism. That was fair. “I’m Dokja’s tragic backstory and he’s mine. There’s details but they aren’t relevant. We do need to move on, but there’s one last important thing we need to handle before the end of the world.” Sooyoung turned fully to Han Sooyoung, who froze in place. “Han Sooyoung. You know what’s up?”

Han Sooyoung silently nodded. Yoo Joonghyuk put a hand on her arm, but she just shook him off. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“I’m only subtle in my foreshadowing.” Sooyoung arched an eyebrow at Han Sooyoung, who abruptly looked a little embarrassed. “Gotta say, kid. You gave me a panic attack. I thought you had gotten majorly lost.”

“The situation got complicated,” Han Sooyoung said defensively. “You’re the one who screwed the pooch by sending me forward with no memories.” 

“I gave you memories. How the hell do you lose that many memories?”

“I’d tell you if I fucking remembered!”

Everybody looked at me. I was honest for once in my life. “I do not know.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped forward, as alarmed as I’d ever seen him. “You made an Avatar and sent her to another dimension.” The group finally made assorted noises of comprehension. Even I had picked up on that . “You didn’t send her forward. You sent her from the 1863rd turn to the 3rd turn.”

“Where there was no other Han Sooyoung,” I muttered. 

“Nope,” Han Sooyoung said bluntly. “I sent her forward a regression. Secretive Plotter helped me out. That’s why I had you kill me, remember? You did the same thing I did. We split my memories, you killed the Avatar, that Secretive Plotter bastard revived her and sent her forward.”

“Then he did it incorrectly.” Even as Yoo Joonghyuk spoke, doubt crept in his mind. He knew the Secretive Plotter wouldn’t ruin a plan that simple. “He sent my memories back from the 1863rd turn to the 3rd turn. We are in the 3rd turn.”

“There’s no Han Sooyoung in this worldline, Joonghyuk.”

“Han Sooyoung has been in every regression. That was the promise she made me.” That she would always be there. Every time, every round. “I understand she was retroactively added into the earlier worldlines, but she was still here. That cursed book always notes it.” 

“Yes, it does. She’s always written in. But a worldline past my own wouldn’t have the Han Sooyoung from Ways of Survival, because I replaced her. The reason why she wasn’t in this worldline was because it wasn’t written yet.” Sooyoung looked grim, and I saw realization slowly dawn on the faces of some members of the company. “We’re not in the third turn. We’re in the 1864th.”

“Why did we think we were in the third?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked blankly. 

Sooyoung halted. “I…don’t know.”

“Use Predictive Storytelling.”

“The minute Dokja got involved the entire situation became so improbable that I can promise it would be useless.”

“But where did those memories go?” Han Sooyoung was gripping her own shirt, expression furrowed in furious thought. “Why did you make me and send me forward in the first place? You aren’t telling us everything, Dokja’s Crybaby Girlfriend.”

“Don’t insult your unnie. And I can’t tell you everything.”

“So Han Sooyoung isn’t a character from Ways of Survival at all?” I asked blankly. “She’s from you? That doesn’t fit. Han Sooyoung isn’t you, Sooyoung.”

Sooyoung abruptly looked a little shifty. “She has plenty to do with Ways of Survival.”

“What does that even mean? Why are you being so obtuse?”

Yoo Joonghyuk muttered something about how yes, it was pretty annoying, wasn’t it?

“Because I don’t know most of it, alright?” Sooyoung crossed her arms, forcing herself to keep eye contact with me. “I had to give the memories of the mission to her. Obviously. I know what memories I gave her, but not their contents. Brain Ghost and Secretive Plotter were really the ones who sorted everything out.”

“ Brain Ghost is making these decisions?” Han Sooyoung screeched.

“What? I trust her! She’s a good librarian.” Almost under her breath, she muttered, “Until she quit and got replaced by those freaks…”

Yoo Sangah straightened, snapping her fingers. “Oh! Is that who the old proprietor was? The other librarians used to speak about her…apparently she had a kind disposition.”

“How much of yourself did you give me?” Han Sooyoung asked. Had I ever seen that expression on her face before? “How much have we lost?”

Sooyoung’s expression softened. “It wasn’t me. It was somebody else. Somebody…I treasured very much.” She managed a little smile, and I knew it was for me. “Out of every Han Sooyoungs in every worldline…you’re the one I would want to look after Dokja. Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t.” Her smile faltered, just a little. “I’m jealous. Obviously. The journey he’s taken over those four past years…I wish I had been there to take it with him. He’s different…”

“You’re different too,” I said quietly. “Ten years does that to a person.”

“I’ve always had something missing in me.” Han Sooyoung gripped her shirt so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I’ve always felt so empty. When I realized I was from a book, I thought…that might explain it. But I was the only one who felt that way. I always wondered…”

And Yoo Joonghyuk, who knew her so well, understood it first.

His eyes quivered, and he reached forward to grab Han Sooyoung by the forearm. “Han Sooyoung. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Han Sooyoung said quietly. She put her hand on his hand, gently pulling it away, and she took his hand in hers and squeezed. “Whenever you say ‘I am Yoo Joonghyuk’...I’m a little jealous, you know? I wish I could say it too. That ‘I am Han Sooyoung’...we’ve always searched for that. I’m chasing it too.”

“You are Han Sooyoung,” Yoo Joonghyuk said urgently. “You always have been. You are nothing lesser. You are good enough for me.”

Han Sooyoung gave him a slightly self-effacing smile. “Please. We know I’m not.”

“That - that has nothing to do with this.” Yoo Joonghyuk floundered for a second, caught off-balance. I didn’t understand. “We care for all of each other, Sooyoung. Every Yoo Joonghyuk and every Han Sooyoung. But you’re the one who - you have to understand.”

“Come on, man. You know I do.” Han Sooyoung raised their intertwined hands to her lips, taking a deep and slow breath in and out. “You’ve had your great finding yourself journey. Even Dokja got to talk shit to his inner child. Let me have this moment, okay?”

“Wait,” I said, “are you two, like, a thing?”

Both of them gave me deeply pitying looks. I looked pleadingly at Sooyoung. She gave me a very familiar pitying look. 

“I want to be myself,” Han Sooyoung told Yoo Joonghyuk simply. “For you, that looked like independence. For me…it looks like accepting a lot of things I don’t like. I won’t run anymore, Joonghyuk.”

“Don’t you dare say it.”

Han Sooyoung released his hand, stepping away from him. “I’m sorry, Joonghyuk.”

“Don’t you dare , Sooyoung.”

“Joonghyuk, please let me say -”

Yoo Joonghyuk put a hand on his sword, his body crackling with probability despite the null space of the subway station. “Shut up, Han Sooyoung!”

“Fine, throw a tantrum.” Han Sooyoung walked forward to face the company. She looked them all over, unusually quiet and somber. Some of the company didn’t understand what was happening, and they looked deeply distressed. The company that did understand was crying. After a long span of strange thought, Han Sooyoung bowed to the group. “Thank you for accepting this part of me. I know she’s pretty obnoxious.”

All four kids - Biyoo must have rejoined us at some point, hopefully post-making out - rushed towards her, capturing her in desperate hugs. Lee Jihye hung off her shoulders as Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung clung to her hips. Biyoo bristled in her hair, bleating lowly. After a few second’s hesitation, Jang Hayoung ran forward and gently hugged her too. 

Out of the adults, Lee Hyunsung was the first to take action. He saluted her, full and fervent. “You’re a star in this nebula, Han Sooyoung!”

Lee Seolwha bowed, hair falling in a curtain over her face. “You’re forgiven for being annoying.”

“Wow, you are just as nice as ever.”

“You’re forgiven for being occasionally evil and difficult to work with,” Yoo Sangah said serenely. She bowed too. A little mockingly, but mostly playful. “I believe the new Yoo Sangah and the new Han Sooyoung can be friends in their next lives.”

“We were friends in this one!” Han Sooyoung protested.

“Frenemies.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this!” Jung Heewon stepped forward and faced the party, as if she was begging them to understand. “Is Kim Dokja’s girlfriend just going to absorb Han Sooyoung?”

“Seriously,” Sooyoung said, “I have a name.”

“There were just three of you in this room, we have to differentiate somehow,” Jung Heewon snapped. “How is that going to work? Are you eating her? Is she eating you? You’re a completely different person than Han Sooyoung!”

“Yup,” Han Sooyoung said serenely, gently wrangling the horde of children and teenagers away from her. “We’ll just have to see how this goes.”

“It’s far too risky!” Jung Heewon insisted. “What if this means you disappear? Congratulations on the self-actualization journey, but you’re taking too many cues from Kim Dokja if you’re willing to sacrifice your life to do it!”

But Han Sooyoung just smiled and clapped her hands, obnoxious and mocking. “Aw, Heewon! You really did care!”

“This is not the time!”

“You really do love me -”

“If I say it will you stop trying to allow Kim Dokja’s girlfriend to eat you?”

“No, but it would be nice if you said it anyway!”

“I’m too pissed off at you to say anything that nice!”

“Then I guess I’ll die unloved.”

“Kim Dokja! Do something about this!”

“Heewon-ssi.” Lee Hyunsung put a large hand on Jung Heewon’s shoulder, and she slowly subsided. He could always calm her down. “I think this is scary enough for her already. Don’t make it worse.”

But Jung Heewon could only shake her head, lost. “She doesn’t have to.”

“Nah,” Han Sooyoung said. “But I want to.” She solemnly patted each child on the head, with an extra ruffle for Biyoo. Lee Jihye pretended she minded. Jang Hayoung did not. “Don’t do anything I would do, guys. But don’t do anything I wouldn’t do either. If I turn more boring then you have permission to get super annoying.”

“If you insist,” Lee Gilyoung muttered, shooting daggers at Sooyoung. She clearly had no idea what to do with the hostility. Her Lee Gilyoung probably worshiped her. Oh, well. This would be good for her.

I just shook my head, helpless and confused. “Han Sooyoung…”

“Ey, nothing from you.” Han Sooyoung shook a finger at me. “This isn’t about you.”

“I - alright?”

“It’s a little bit about him,” Sooyoung muttered.

Han Sooyoung walked towards her and took her hand. She gave Sooyoung a pitying look. “You’re down way too bad. It’s so cringe.”

“Like you’re one to talk?”

“Han Sooyoung!” Yoo Joonghyuk barked. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Han Sooyoung turned to smile at Yoo Joonghyuk, and for the flash of a second her smile was as brilliant as the 999th turn’s Han Sooyoung. Her eyes were just as wise and calm as Sooyoung’s. And there was something about the tilt of her head and the mischievous glint in her eyes was all her. 

“See you later, Joonghyuk.” Yoo Joonghyuk jerked back, shocked. Han Sooyoung smiled, brighter and fuller. “What? What did you expect me to say?”

In any other location in the star stream, a moment this momentous would create a powerful story. But no story was born, and I knew this tale would not be told. It was just for us: for the thousand faces of Han Sooyoung, and for the people who loved every inch of her. 

The giant isekai stories that I now realized belonged to Sooyoung drew shut. The two women were facing each other, staring straight through each other’s hearts. Something was happening within her that was just for her. It was a story never meant to be read - a story written for an audience of herself. 

It was a sight I had seen a hundred times before. A quick, miniature flash of skill usage. In that banal second, Han Sooyoung disappeared.

Only Sooyoung was left. She stumbled a little bit, clearly dizzy, and I rushed forward to grab her and help her upright. She coughed a little, as if to dislodge a particularly sticky throat. 

“Man, that was weird. I’ve never absorbed four years worth of memories before.” Sooyoung looked up at me, and we took a silent second to scrutinize each other closely. Something close to wonder dawned in her face. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty cool now,” I said humbly. 

“You pulled so much crap .”

I began sweating a little. “Cool crap?”

“Oh my god .” Sooyoung coughed again, but she didn’t let go of me. “You’re so fucking annoying .”

“In my defense, I’ve always been annoying -”

“I lost count of how often you died! Died !”

I began panicking a little. This was truly the life of a boyfriend. “Ah - I can really explain -”

Sooyoung lightly smacked me on the arm. “You absolute scammer , cheat , liar -”

“Did you forget the Habbo Hotel scams we used to run -”

“Of course I didn’t! You’re exactly the same, you know that?”

“I’m one of the most powerful Constellations in the star stream?” I hinted desperately.

“Does that help you sleep at night? Does that make up for the shit you’ve pulled ?”

“I am very sorry about all of it, truly -”

Jung Heewon pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning. “Never mind. False alarm. It’s her.”

Biyoo flew up to Sooyoung, adorable big eyes blinking owlishly at her. Sooyoung froze, letting Biyoo appraise her and undoubtedly combing through all of her memories of Biyoo.

Then Sooyoung gasped, grabbing my arm. “You didn’t say that this is your baby , Dokja!”

“Uh. I didn’t have much time.” I gestured weakly to Biyoo, who had upgraded to sniffing Sooyoung’s hair. “Biyoung, this is…ah, somebody who’s been very important to me for a very long time. Sooyoung, this is my daughter. She’s a baby dokkaebi and extremely talented.”

“Who the hell was the -” Sooyoung stopped short. “Is Bihyoung the mom?”

“Dokkaebis don’t reproduce like that.”

“No mom, huh?” Sooyoung gathered all of her courage, letting go of my arm and straightening. She smiled at Biyoo, incredibly strained and awkward. “Uh. Hello. You know - uh, I know for a fact that Dokja never mentioned this. But…we used to have lots of dreams about having kids one day. We wanted to be really good parents. Obviously Dokja’s the shittiest dad ever, but…if I could help, that would…if it would make you happy…it would make me very happy too.”

“Baat,” Biyoo warbled. She had abruptly become very teary. 

I laughed a little, reaching out to pet Biyoo’s wonderfully soft and fluffy fur. Sooyoung cautiously extended her hand too, and when Biyoo beeped in permission she began petting her too. Our hands intertwined as Sooyoung met my daughter for the first time. The daughter she had known for a very long time.

That was good. She already loved her. Han Sooyoung used to laugh when I said this, but I always knew she would be a good mother. Sooyoung would obviously be great too. All aspects of her would really kick my ass if I left Biyoo without a dad again. 

My resolution for the plan snapped into place. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was likely the best considering the circumstances. 

Shin Yoosung gasped loudly, pointing at Sooyoung. “Sooyoung-unnie’s nice now!?”

“She’s maternal ,” Lee Gilyoung hissed. 

Sooyoung glanced askance at me, lowing her voice. “A boy, a girl, and a baby, huh?” I elbowed her sharply, and she immediately elbowed me back. 

“Is it finally time for an explanation?” Lee Seolwha asked, exhausted. She did admittedly seem a little touched by the family moment, which was nice. She had loved being a mother. “You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yeah!” Lee Jihye whooped. “When’s the wedding, you two!”

Lee Hyunsung rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I always thought those two had something between them…”

Jang Heyong half-raised her hand. “I thought Han Sooyoung-unnie and Yoo Joonghyuk…?”

Jung Heewon muttered something about me and Yoo Joonghyuk.

Yoo Joonghyuk stood beside me, arms crossed. I hadn’t noticed him move. His face was blank and implacable, but he didn’t seem angry anymore. Strange and soft, he said, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Bro,” Sooyoung said, “I can say double . You are so fucking stupid.”

Yoo Joonghyuk flipped her off. Sooyoung stuck out her tongue at him. I didn’t vocalize that I had no idea what she was talking about either, worried that I would somehow end up as the stupidest in the group. 

“Let’s explain on the train,” I said loudly, raising one hand. I squeezed Han Sooyoung’s hand tightly. For as long as I could, I wanted this. “It arrived a while ago, you know.”

So it had. The subway doors opened for us, open and inviting. A fast track express trip towards our new lives. Towards that happy future and peaceful place where we all wanted to live.

Maybe a world where you didn’t need a novel to be happy. Nobody sought the need to escape. Everybody in that world would appreciate every day, and they would live happily in each and every moment. Your happiness would be the flowers and bees and the picnic on the banks of the rivers. There would be no need for a reader. 

Of course, such a world could only exist in a book. A reader was always necessary.

Sooyoung smiled down at the cautiously approaching kids, giving them the kindest Sooyoung she could. “How many of you want to help me plan the wedding, then?”

Jang Hayoung and Shin Yoosung’s hands jumped in the air. Biyoo spun in a happy circle and bleated a little song.

“Let’s go, then,” I said, kissing Sooyoung one final time. “Come on. I’ll let you tell the story.”

Sooyoung and I crossed the threshold of the subway together, hand in hand. 

Yoo Joonghyuk was the last to enter. He was the only one who looked back - who kept an eye on the empty subway station for as long as he could, who kept staring into their ugliest past until the very final moment when the doors closed and obscured the past forever.

Yoo Joonghyuk had a very bad feeling. Normally he paid attention to his bad feelings, but when it came to Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung he ignored almost every feeling he had. He had to guess it was only that awful and familiar jealousy churning in his gut, and he forced himself to dismiss it. He should just be happy for them.

Still. He knew Kim Dokja. The look on Kim Dokja’s face right now - deliriously happy, reunited with the woman he had been in love with all along - ought to be utterly foreign. They were past the end of the scenarios, and Yoo Joonghyuk knew that he was entering territory in which he no longer knew Kim Dokja in completion. Yoo Joonghyuk had known about his history with every Han Sooyoung, obviously, but Yoo Joonghyuk was willing to accept that he did not know the face of a truly happy Kim Dokja. With somebody he actually loved.

But the look on Kim Dokja’s face wasn’t foreign at all. It was the same Kim Dokja he knew so well. One regression may as well have been a hundred lifetimes, and he knew Kim Dokja twice as well as that. The Kim Dokja in the subway car with them was the Kim Dokja that Yoo Joonghyuk knew the best.

The train launched into their happy future, and Yoo Joonghyuk had a very bad feeling that he just couldn’t shake. 

kdj: Hey, Sooyoung. 

kdj: I’m texting to absolutely nobody right now. Lol. There’s no cell phone reception where I am. There’s no laws of physics or living organisms, either. But mostly no cell phone reception. 

kdj: This inability to talk to you….it’s nothing new. I’m very used to it. 

kdj: So I figured I’d do what I always do and write on your wall. Just so I can read it later. I did go through our DMs sometimes, you know…

kdj: I wanted to say I’m sorry. 

kdj: You wouldn’t be impressed by it, but I wanted to say it anyway.

kdj: Please take care of our friends. The Kim Dokja with you should help, but you’ll have to lead them. I’m entrusting them to you. 

kdj: I’m trusting you with the kids, too. I know you’ll make each other happy. 

kdj: And Yoo Joonghyuk. I won’t be offended if you want to be a thing again. That would make me really happy, actually. You’re actually a thing in a lot of worldlines, you know. 

kdj: Actually, I’m only really sorry about one thing….

kdj: How to put this.

kdj: I was selfish again.

kdj: I split myself almost evenly in half. 51% for me and 49% for him. 

kdj: Don’t worry - I put all the parts of myself that would make a good partner and father companion and person etc in the 49% version. I’m not that awful. Lol. 

kdj: Promise I kept the nasty parts to myself. 

kdj: I think that child’s still in here, but it’s pointless to try and kill him again.

kdj: Not like we can die.

kdj: lol

kdj: Anyway.

kdj: I kept Ways of Survival for myself. Some other stuff like uh most of my life pre-nonsense. I kept my memories of Yoo Joonghyuk. Pretty much all of the real ones. I wish I could apologize to him too, but I can’t even really pretend he has a phone. 

kdj: I’m a stickler for realism I guess haha

kdj: and I uh

kdj: kept you.

kdj: The original you, I mean. The ordinary high school girl who got isekai’d and became the hero of humanity. That’s you. The first Sooyoung I loved. I kept all of her. 

kdj: Don’t worry! I gave 49 all of my memories of the you who was my companion throughout the scenarios. Watching it now, as if it was a distant thing, I realized that I was in love with her too. That Kim Dokja - the one who loves the brave woman who became his best friend all over again - is who you have now.

kdj: I know this isn’t going to make (part of you?) happy, but I couldn’t give 49 all of my love for all of you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to give him the pain, so I couldn’t really give him the love either.

kdj: tbh I just didn’t want to. 

kdj: I knew that it would be difficult to survive becoming the Oldest Dream. The only way I know how to survive is through you and Yoo Joonghyuk. I want to hold on for as long as I can, and I need my memories of you two to keep me who I am. I’m not much else…

kdj: I guess I’m mostly just sorry that I’m not sorry at all. 

kdj: gtg there’s some weird naked guy outside.

kdj: Love you. Have a happy life. Please.

kdj: Goodbye, Han Sooyoung.

kdj: whoah this guy is aiming STRAIGHT for the win

Chapter Text

Han Sooyoung poked her head into Yoo Joonghyuk’s bedroom. As usual, it was depressingly sterile: a bed, a desk for cleaning his infinite array of weapons, a drawer for holding his weapons, and a basket of power bars. Ugh. She’d have to arrange his absence from the Industrial Complex and sneak in some bright colors or something. She saw a really nice little rug at the market yesterday. Hopefully he wouldn’t destroy it, but Han Sooyoung firmly believed that the thought counted. 

“Hey, oppa! You busy?” Yoo Joonghyuk was busy lying on the bed staring absently at the ceiling, so Han Sooyoung interpreted that as a free period. Guy was a bit like a robot: if he wasn’t doing anything, his brain shut down so it could wake up at the next task. Like fast forwarding through life, almost? “We’re gonna go see that new production of ‘Journey to the West’ the community theater troupe’s putting on. We voted on the best universal edition and everything, it should be cool. You wanna come with us?”

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored her. They both understood that this meant her request was not worth pausing his mental fast-forward through life. Ugh! 

She walked forward to his bed as loudly as she could and waved a hand over his face. You did not touch Yoo Joonghyuk while he was sleeping. He could sense the air currents from her moving hand just fine. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. When’s the last time you did something fun? You had to fight an island of giants a week ago, you should relax.” Yoo Joonghyuk did not answer her. “Holding down the space bar and fast forwarding your existence is not relaxing.” No response. “I’m only annoying for your own good. I’m helping you relax holistically. Please?”

Finally, Yoo Joonghyuk pushed himself upwards. He stared at her with his usual expression, and spoke in his usual deadpan. He didn’t stare or speak any other way, generally. Slowly, he said, “I have seen that play forty six times.” 

Immediately, Han Sooyoung said, “So what you’re saying is I’ve successfully convinced you to see it forty six times.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk ticked his eyebrow - his signal for ‘use your skill!’. Contextually, this meant ‘use your skill and see if you have any remote chance of succeeding’. Confident man. 

Predictive Storyteller flashed before her eyes, and Han Sooyoung effortlessly sorted through the dozens of possible futures. Cutting out all of the ones under 1% probability, combining the effectively identical futures, brushing away all of the other worldline futures that crept into her vision…

Alright, so her chances of successfully convincing him to see the play were around 8%. That meant there was a chance! In that 8%, she managed to drag him out of bed by promising that the production would be a completely novel production that he had never seen before. Han Sooyoung reached to her memories of previous regressions and flipped through her mental book, picking out the regressions where that 8% had occurred.

Han Sooyoung was such a genius. The first time she did it, she bribed/bullied the theater troupe into switching up the play. But the second time she did it, the play was the exact same as before, and Yoo Joonghyuk ended up rolling his eyes and leaving halfway through. The next regression the 8% chance had failed. 

Somewhere along the way Han Sooyoung got the idea to write her own play. Yet again, she had managed a novel play a few times, but the vast majority of her attempts to write a new play ended up horribly derivative no matter how far she tried to stray from her records. Even a genius author ended up writing the exact same play if she was given the exact same prompts in the exact same situation. She had to beat her own creativity. 

During her next attempt, she had Mad Libs-style written out an outline and used a randomizer to fill in the blanks. It worked fine. But then that randomizer repeated again and again, and by the end of it all Han Sooyoung hadn’t successfully managed to show Yoo Joonghyuk a new play since the 277th regression.

“You’ve seen the problem.” 

“It’s not an insurmountable problem,” Han Sooyoung said immediately. “The basic idea is solid. I just need to find another solution.”

Yoo Joonghyuk rolled his eyes, turning away from her.

Han Sooyoung frowned, exiting out of the skill and closing the book of memories. Combining the two was really difficult, and she knew that she had been working on completely integrating the two skills for lifetimes. She had to master both skills individually first, and that had taken an excruciatingly long time. She had made a lot of progress, and it was still slow going, but Han Sooyoung knew that it would be worth the effort. Predicting the future based on authorship and readership was one thing, but predicting the future based on thousands of other regressions was another - like training an immature AI based on billions of points of data instead of just a few thousand. She could see it already: flashes of her future power. 

Once she mastered total combination of the skills, she may as well be omniscient. The more regressions that passed, the more complete her omniscience would be. Then she could really help oppa. With her omniscient viewpoint at his side, he could finally win! 

And he wouldn’t fast forward through his life anymore. He’d hang out with her. They would have lots of fun. He would be happy.

If she couldn’t do this, no way she could save the world. Oppa didn’t know the can of worms he just opened. The worms were determination.

Han Sooyoung clenched her fist, pumping the air. “I’ll show you a brand new play, oppa!” Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her exhaustedly. “Alright, I know I’ve said that before. But I really mean it this time! I have a perfect plan in mind for a brand new play. So you’ll come see it, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes at her. Han Sooyoung gave him her best puppy dog eyes. The cuteness was sucked into the empty void of his soul. Han Sooyoung blinded him with her power. 

“Ugh,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Fine.”

Han Sooyoung cackled in victory. Yoo Joonghyuk’s exhaustion doubled. “Hell yeah! You’re going to see why I’m the best author of all time! Never doubt my storytelling again, oppa!”

Yoo Joonghyuk lay back down. He’d see. They’d all see!

Han Sooyoung was a genius author. She could write one little play. 

One might believe that writing an alternate edition of the most famous story in Asia would be easy. There were already a million editions, so what was one more on the pile? 

This was amateur thinking. It was the boatload of vehicle movies for the latest star, safe bets for a movie award, and trendy mass-produced fiction that would make her own task so difficult. It was hard to create an original idea when your mind was crowded with the gestalt of a hundred other ideas. You’d think of something genius, and an hour later you’d realize it was an unholy amalgamation of Movie A and Book C. When the original story was drowned under its imitators, there was no such thing as originality. 

And that was discounting the real problem - namely, that she was trying to please a regressor on his 712th (Han Sooyoung always made a note of the number in her mental ledger - Yoo Joonghyuk frequently had to ask her for it) runthrough. Nothing in the star stream surprised him anymore. There were no fresh ideas in his world; no novelty. The third scenario was the most derivative production ever created, because the third scenario had run its course 712 times. Han Sooyoung had bravely held the line of novelty for a long time, but even she could tell that oppa was growing tired of her. 

It felt bad. Even Han Sooyoung could admit that. He only ever looked through her now. She was becoming a ghost in his own life: a phantom of 712 other Han Sooyoungs. Han Sooyoung always thought of the ghosts from Mario Kart: the silver records of your previous best time superimposed over your current race, helping you keep track of your strats and beat your previous best. Knowing Yoo Joonghyuk (she did.), he thought about it the same way. Han Sooyoung was worried the silver ghosts were obscuring her own face. 

The randomizer idea had been good. Accessing the memory, Han Sooyoung could see that the failure of its subsequent attempt surprised her. Computer generated (thanks, nerd with a crush on her!) random numbers should be different rolls no matter what. What had she done wrong? 

With the benefit of hindsight and progression in the scenarios, Han Sooyoung understood. Yoo Joonghyuk’s regressions were anchored towards a certain ‘norm’. This had taken them ages to figure out, but once they did it was pretty obvious - the butterfly effect was a bitch, the universe had too many random elements to seem identical each time. There were simply certain events that had a high probability of happening. Yoo Joonghyuk’s development didn’t change the fact that his probability of kicking Thor’s ass was .001% - he just mastered threading that needle and achieving that one in a thousand chance of success. It was just basic speedrunning, Yoo Joonghyuk would say, as he throttled gods to death with his bare hands. But there was still an outcome to any situation that had the highest probability of occurring - the definite ‘center’ to every regression. 

Such as. Like. Han Sooyoung - ah, never mind. 

That ‘center’ meant that the random number generator would come up the same each time. The probability metric wasn’t “the likelihood of this number”, but “the likelihood of the most probable number occurring”. 

Make sense? Only to Han Sooyoung. There was a reason Predictive Storytelling took so long to master. Her brain had to adapt to its nonsense. She had explained it to Yoo Joonghyuk a dozen times, but it had taken a few hundred regressions for him to truly wrap his head around one of the many, many fundamental truths of the universe: that there was nothing unexpected in the scenarios. The impossible did not occur.

But Han Sooyoung could thread that needle. You just had to be a persistent woman, an over-achieving friend, a strong incarnation, and a genius author. Luckily, Han Sooyoung hit all of these basic requirements. 

First step: corner the theater troupe, tell them that they are putting on a new production of a new play in three days, do not take no for an answer. They were terrified of her, so this was the easiest step. Time: two hours.

Second step: read as many ‘choose your own adventure’ novels as you can. Han Sooyoung had a nifty little special item that could download any book ever written onto a reader, even providing automatic translations into Korean. She read the first few to completion, but she just used Predictive Storytelling to swallow up the rest and incorporate them into its ‘neural network’ of data. Time: four hours. 

 Step two point five: Go see the play with the company and without Yoo Joonghyuk. Have a great time! Hold hands with Lee Jihye and miss a significant part of the play because you’re busy staring into each other’s eyes. Hit Kim Namwoon when he makes grossed out noises. 

“It would have been even nicer if oppa was there,” Han Sooyoung lamented. “I could have watched with the thrill of victory.”

“Bro,” Kim Namwoon said, pouring popcorn into his mouth, “why the fuck do you always want him around. He’s like the scary CEO of your unpaid internship’s conglomerate. He’s so creepy.”

“Captain’s the hero who’s gonna lead us to victory,” Lee Jihye said loyally, before pausing. “But does he really do anything besides kill shit? I can’t really imagine him hanging out with us…”

Han Sooyoung didn’t have to imagine it. If she opened up the record of her memories she could remember it. But they couldn’t, and without Predictive Storytelling they couldn’t even conceptualize the idea.

“Oppa’s my friend,” Han Sooyoung said stubbornly. Very stubbornly. She was probably the most stubborn entity in the star stream, and she poured every ounce of her infinite stubbornness into that one sentence and sentiment: that oppa was her friend. “And he’s still a human being. He deserves to make some good memories every so often. Somebody without any happy memories isn’t fighting for anything at all. It’s important.”

Kim Namwoon threw a handful of popcorn at her. “See, this and the oppa thing is why everybody thinks you’re dating.” 

“It’s why you think you had a shot with me,” Lee Jihye said, shoving him. The two women had sworn endless violence on Kim Namwoon ages ago, which would be bullying if he didn’t deserve it. “As if anybody could date that -”

“Hey, he’s hot!”

“Like Michaelangelo’s David is hot, and equally made of rocks  -”

It was true: Yoo Joonghyuk’s face slapped your cheeks twice. Han Sooyoung publicly denied this, but only because she couldn’t afford to encourage those gross rumors about her and oppa. It was annoying when she was an adult and homicide-inducing in oppa when she was a high schooler. But that was also radically beyond the point. Time: four hours. Two for the play, two for dinner and drinks. 

Step three: write . 

Write a lot. A lot a lot. A frankly ridiculous amount. Han Sooyoung could estimate that the total number of words would be over 100k. With a time crunch of one day, the quality might suffer. But Han Sooyoung was the expert in churning out shittons of slightly lower quality work, and with a little help from Predictive Storytelling she was up to the task. Did she get any sleep that night? Absolutely not. 

Step three A was outlining the story. She had to download a shitton of play scripts to a) learn playwriting and b) figure out the word count of a two hour play, but she picked it up quickly enough. She wrote the twistiest plot possible before liberally circling every ‘decision point’ on the outline. 

Any writer knows that writing is just like scrying a future that you made up. When outlining a story, a writer comes to a lot of different ‘decision points’ in the story. Does the character do this or that? Does she get the item now or two scenes from now? Should we reveal the twist in the first act or the second?  Does he die or does he live? 

And every decision you make sends you down an entirely new path of writing. One little decision creates its own tree of more decisions, and from that tree you make more decisions, and in that tree now you have ten different decisions to make and you get totally stuck. A writer’s story was limited only by their own understanding, and their tree of decisions was infinite and ever-expanding.

This was why Predictive Storytelling was taking years to master. Telling the future was nothing but traveling down these decision trees for the most likely outcomes. The future is a story we write ourselves, but it’s a future made solely of our own choices. You never knew how many choices were available to you! 

This was the central reasoning behind Han Sooyoung’s ethos: to never give up. No matter how many dead ends you saw in front of you, the tree of infinite outcomes meant that there was always a solution hidden amongst them. Anything was possible, so a happy ending was always possible too. Yoo Joonghyuk always fought on because he knew that it was possible to thread that needle and achieve his desired outcome no matter how unlikely it was. It was because he was Yoo Joonghyuk - but anybody could do it, really. 

Anyway, this meant that Han Sooyoung had a shitton to write.

To introduce additional random elements, she tracked down members of her company and asked them to give random solutions to random plot points. Amateurs were the most unpredictable. Uriel and Shin Yoosung gave good ideas, Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon gave stupid ones. She even got Jang Hayoung to crowdsource different ideas from his little chatroom, and the terrible story prompts came flooding in.

“Wow,” Jang Hayoung said, squinting at the chatbox wall thing. It really did look just like an instant messaging service. “That…can’t possibly be…no way.”

“What?” Han Sooyoung craned her head over his shoulder, making him flush and duck out of the way. He really dug her, but he was cute and a gentleman so she allowed it. “Did you get a big namer chiming in?”

“Uh. I think it might be Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi’s sponsor…”

“ What !” Han Sooyoung shoved him aside, scanning the chatbox. Uselessly: nobody else could read it besides Jang Hayoung. “He’s talked to oppa, like, twice! He’s giving story ideas ? What’s he saying?”

Jang Hayoung squinted at the display. Slowly, he said, “He…gave a thumbs up reaction to Sun Wukong’s idea for the hero to be a retiree.” 

“ Useless as ever !”

The implication that oppa’s sponsor was a lurker in the wall chat disturbed her greatly, but she had no time to waste. Within short order, Han Sooyoung had written out an insanely huge outline and circled every point of decision. There were over two hundred. Man, she was a genius. Step three A time: 20 hours. 

Step three B: randomize. 

Every junction in the tree had two, three, maybe six branches. Han Sooyoung numbered each branch. Whenever she hit a junction, she would randomly generate a number - one for each branch. The random number was the branch she chose, and that was the plotline she decided to write. That branch had its own junction with its own branches, so Han Sooyoung numbered those and randomly generated a number to choose. You get the picture. Yeah, she had to write a story path for every potential outcome of this story with a million outcomes, thanks for noticing !

Finally, she had it: the single most random, arbitrary, weird, twisty, all-over-the-place, incoherent, nonsensical play ever. Perfect. Step three B time: 1 hour. She had already done all the work there.

The finale. What they had all been waiting for. The big kahuna. Step three C: write the bitch.

Han Sooyoung wrote the bitch. She was running on energy drinks, stimulant skills, and frenzied mania. Two hours of play honestly wasn’t that much, and she had already done all of the hard work. Three hours was more than enough time to write a two hour play. And for a play written in three hours, she really thought it wasn’t half bad. 

She had officially written the weirdest version of Journey to the West ever. Sun Wukong was a retiree. The nameless wash of minion spirits unionized and revolted. A bastardization of Buddhism so sacrilegious that she had probably racked up awful karma. She’d have to track down one of the Buddhas later and personally apologize. But it was totally worth it .

“You skipped training,” Yoo Joonghyuk said at breakfast. He did not hold out the bowl of food he served for her. 

“I was doing something way more important,” Han Sooyoung hissed. She grabbed at the bowl of food. Yoo Joonghyuk effortlessly dodged the bowl out of her grasp. 

“Playing around is not more important than training.”

Utilizing her incredible skills as a superhuman incarnation and master martial artist, the heir of the school of Breaking the Sky martial arts, Han Sooyoung grabbed at the bowl. Yoo Joonghyuk cheated and snapped it out of her range without spilling a drop. The surrounding company attempting to obtain or eat their breakfast in peace began gawking at the sight of Yoo Joonghyuk having an actual conversation.

“I was writing,” Han Sooyoung hissed. “Following my passions .”

“Writing is playing around.”

Han Sooyoung defended her honor and attacked him at full force. The dissemination of breakfast was disrupted by the impromptu battle to the death. The company around them grabbed their bowls and fled the scene, Lee Hyunsung bravely grabbing the cauldron of soup and rescuing it from the battle. 

Obviously, he thrashed her. This happened when she missed training. He didn’t pull this shit on anybody else. But he wasn’t anal about anybody else’s safety either. He said it was because she was incompetent, which meant that her deaths depressed him and that he would do anything to prepare her for the future. Han Sooyoung could tell things like that. 

He gave her the food anyway. He also took away her energy drinks. Bastard. 

But maybe Han Sooyoung had her own ways of showing affection too. She shoved the bizarre play into the hands of the theater troupe director and told him that he had one day to learn the play. They would perform it that evening. They cursed her out and demanded a longer deadline, but she couldn’t give it to them even if she wanted to. 

The next scenario would begin tomorrow. It would be a toughie, to be nice about it. They didn’t have a day. Wasn’t that stupid? The man and woman with all of the time in all the worldlines, and all the time they had was constantly running short.

That evening, Han Sooyoung yet again barged into Yoo Joonghyuk’s room. He wasn’t lying in bed fast-forwarding through his life - they did have a scenario tomorrow, so he was rearranging his inventory, restocking his health potions, and inspecting his weapons for any damage. He could do the ritual with his eyes closed. He also had a terrible habit of double-checking Han Sooyoung’s own preparations and nagging her if she did it incorrectly. His definition of nagging was, of course, saying ‘this is incompetent work’ and doing it himself. She always ended up with extra potions in her bag. Bastard. 

“Up and at ‘em, lazybones!” Han Sooyoung announced, to the most and least lazy person alive: aka, the most efficient. “You have a play to watch.”

Yet again , Yoo Joonghyuk ignored her. And yet again, Han Sooyoung didn’t take no for an answer. She strode forward and stood in front of him, taking a hard stance in front of his carefully arranged stacks of bombs.

“You said you would watch the play if I could show you a play you haven’t seen before! Well, I can guarantee that this one’ll be new. I wrote it myself. Don’t you want to support local artists?”

“Please get away from my bombs.”

“If you don’t see my play I’m kicking your bombs.”

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed, and Han Sooyoung gave herself a mental high five. Eliciting an emotion from him was a win anytime. “Make the others watch it.”

A fantastic opening for her coup de grace. This was the part of the plan that would turn the evening from good to great. “ Everybody is going to watch it. I thre - got the theater troupe to close out the theater and put on a special production just for the company. Isn’t that great? Everybody’s going to be there. Don’t you want to join our team bonding activities? Never mind, I know you don’t. But you should come anyway.” 

It hadn’t been easy to force everybody away from their busy schedules to watch another retelling of Journey to the West, but she had managed it. She had a very effective rhetorical point that convinced half of them: she was going to convince the elusive Yoo Joonghyuk to show up. Everybody knew that he didn’t show up to anything . The idea of Yoo Joonghyuk participating in entertainment baffled and intrigued them, as if she was proudly presenting one of those bizarre Amazon monkeys with giant eyes and little limbs, and most of them had agreed to go along in hopes that they would catch a glimpse of this rare species. Han Sooyoung had no intention of disappointing them.

The Amazonian monkey grunted. “What is it.”

“Uh…Journey to the West?”

Yoo Joonghyuk went back to his bomb stacking.

Hurriedly, Han Sooyoung said, “But I promise it’s brand new! I wrote it for maximum novelty and excitement. It’s exactly the kind of mindless shit you love. You’re the target audience.”

The bomb stacking adopted a certain emphasis. Han Sooyoung dramatically pulled her leg back, threatening to swing her leg into the stack and blow them all up. A sword jumped into his hand at light speed, the flat of the blade pressed against the bottom of her foot. A standoff. 

 “You should be focusing on the scenario tomorrow.” Left unsaid: like he was. Which was why he was too busy for dumb plays. 

Yoo Joonghyuk was such a funny guy. He was a genius who never learned. He underwent the same trial a hundred times and never truly learned his lesson. His complete and unwavering focus on his mission meant that he missed so many important truths. He was truly a thousand year moron.

Han Sooyoung helped Yoo Joonghyuk out a lot, just like he helped her out. They saved each other’s lives time and again. But Han Sooyoung always thought her real job was picking up what Yoo Joonghyuk missed. She could only try and teach him what he couldn’t stop to learn. That was the real way Han Sooyoung helped him. What was a scenario next to that?

“We don’t know how long I’ll have in this regression,” Han Sooyoung said plainly. 

The full force of Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention locked on her. For him, ‘intense’ was an emotion. It was hard to explain beyond that. He didn’t say anything. But the emotion was always overwhelming.

“I have a 95% chance of surviving the next scenario.” It would be a tough one, but Han Sooyoung knew her own capabilities. “But you and I both know my chances will continue dwindling from here. There’s a 45% likelihood Lee Hyunsung will face a battle that permanently injures him. We have to factor avoiding that situation into our plans, by the way. You can’t afford to waste any time. You only have so much. You ought to use it well.”

Yoo Joonghyuk scoffed lightly. “I’m cursed with time.”

“You can’t think like that!” Han Sooyoung scolded, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows ticked upwards. “Don’t just mash all of the regressions together! This is Lee Jihye’s entire life, you know? This is the only chance Kim Namwoon has to finally get a girl. These years will be the happiest of Uriel’s existence. Maybe they’re just mayflies in your existence - or even one of seven hundred repetitive chapters in mine - but they’re everything to the people in them. They have to mean something. Otherwise nothing means anything. And if that’s true, then why are you fighting at all? Just give up!”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked away. A long silence stretched between them, and it felt like a long time before he spoke again.

“Cruel woman. Fine.”

And, although it would have been so easy to misunderstand him, Han Sooyoung understood him completely.

She was making this harder. She was making this regression so much more painful. Her insistence on happy memories would only twist the knife of the painful ones. The happy memories of the company around him would be permanently tainted when he inevitably lost many of them. Any happiness that she foisted upon Yoo Joonghyuk now would only molder and rot into poison in the future. He never started a family again - he said it wasn’t worth it. 

Yoo Joonghyuk had distanced himself from her for…oh, probably dozens of regressions. It was eye-rollingly predictable: she’d die in some truly awful and traumatic way in one regression, and in the next he’d refuse to even look at her and never tell her a kind word. It was so transparent. And how she had gotten so good at translating his insults. There were definitely a few regressions where he tried to drive her away via literally stabbing her, but he gave that up after it only pissed her off.

So Han Sooyoung only clapped, grinning brightly. “Yay! This is gonna be so much fun! There was an 89% chance of you agreeing, by the way.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrow twitched. 

Sunset extinguished the last dregs of sunlight dappled over the outdoor theater. Light died and darkness rose, and sometimes in the midst of winter Han Sooyoung couldn’t help but mourn that fleeting light. 

Tonight, flickering lanterns kept the darkness at bay. Every bench in the amphitheater was empty except for a small cluster in the direct center. They were all chatting with each other and laughing. Many of them were heroically pretending not to gawk at Yoo Joonghyuk’s promised but unprecedented appearance. The level of noise was obviously making him want to kill something. He was being so brave just by being here. Kim Namwoon stood up and moved to the opposite end of the group to get away from him. Han Sooyoung patted Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm reassuringly. She still liked him. 

Lowly, Yoo Joonghyuk said, “Please tell me it starts soon.”

“You’re just unhappy ‘cause you’re awkward,” Han Sooyoung informed him. He grunted in assent. “Come on, oppa. Appreciate this a little. Everybody’s here and having fun. We don’t know when this is going to happen again. I want to enjoy this while we have it.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her. There was something heavy weighing him down, slumping his shoulders and giving his expression that sad weight. He stared at her for a long time. 

It took a few seconds to realize why he was looking at her like that, for so long. He was memorizing her. He was locking every centimeter and second of this memory into his mind: her freshly dyed red streak of hair, the birth mark on her chin that she hated. Han Sooyoung grinned brightly, so he could remember her smiling. 

Yoo Joonghyuk broke away from her, shaking his head ruefully. “Put that effort into surviving.”

“I can do both!” Granted, she was trying to help him survive, but she could multitask. She was left with a lingering question anyway, tinged with the faint edge of familiar guilt, and Han Sooyoung had to work up her courage to ask. “Uh. Oppa?”

Beside them, Lee Jihye was putting Kim Namwoon in a headlock. Uriel was laughing lightly and cheering on Kim Namwoon. She always liked an underdog. Yoo Joonghyuk was watching them, and he hummed lightly in response to her question.

“Um…” Where was this hesitance coming from? Maybe she just didn’t want to know the answer to her question. Maybe she was worried he’d lie. “I’m not just making you more miserable, right? I know how sometimes…” The fact of the 2nd regression sat large and heavy between them. Neither of them had to say it, and they rarely did. “We don’t have to do all of this. I know you withdraw from everything to protect yourself. I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I yanked that away from you. I’m doing this to help you, but if it’s not helping I can stop.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression softened, as if his pain had grown distant for a few sacred seconds. And that was the point of everything after all. 

He put a large hand on her head, smoothing back an errant strand of hair with one thumb. “You do it because you are Han Sooyoung.”

That wasn’t a yes or no. Maybe she was making it better and maybe she was making it worse. These happy memories could provide warmth in the upcoming struggles, or their absence could whistle through their hearts in the bitter cold. Happiness wasn’t a measure against tragedy, but an essential cog by which it turned. Han Sooyoung knew that she was an aspect of this tragedy. 

Yoo Joonghyuk knew this better than anybody. Maybe he knew that this wasn’t a tragedy he could avoid. Or maybe it was a whole lot simpler, and Yoo Joonghyuk would just rather have a dead best friend than no best friend at all. 

“Then I’ll do my best!” Han Sooyoung cried, fired up. Yoo Joonghyuk dropped his hand from her head, ignoring the gawking stares of the company members behind them. She stood up, pumping the air. “You’re going to see the most play ever!”

Jang Hayoung blinked up at her. “The most…?”

“The most!”

“Hard to argue with that,” Yoo Joonghyuk told Jang Hayoung. Jang Hayoung had a heart attack.

The entire stage was set up, and she could see the cast members peeking from behind the curtains. Most of them were staring anxiously at Yoo Joonghyuk. Everybody in the Industrial Complex had seen him chop down three hundred incarnations during the last scenario. Almost everybody was too afraid to even acknowledge he existed. He was happy to comply. 

Han Sooyoung ditched the others and backflipped over the empty seating. She swung herself up onto the edge of the stage, moving to stand in the exact center. She clapped her hands several times, drawing the attention of the crowd.

 The cast and crew readied their positions, preparing to pull back the curtains and start the show. The entire company quieted and turned to look at her expectantly. Shin Yoosung was clutching her favorite stuffed animal to her chest, practically bouncing in her seat. She had been so excited to hear that Sooyoung-unnie was putting on a play. Joke’s on you, kid! It sucked!

Han Sooyoung offered the entire audience a big thumbs up. With a wide grin, she announced, “This play was written via a series of crowd sourced random decisions that I made for no reason. It is not edited whatsoever. It was not created to be well-written, meaningful, or important. The reason for its existence is because I wanted to. I wrote it to make one viewer smile. So I hope he smiles! Okay, on with the show!”

Han Sooyoung jumped off the stage and landed on her seat next to Yoo Joonghyuk. He hadn’t magically learned facial expressions over the course of the last five minutes. But she gave him a big smile all the same, and happily settled down to watch her very own show with her very own viewer.

It was…it was weird. All over the place. The pacing was…super bad. The last act took up, like, two thirds of the play. There were way too many climaxes and she had completely forgotten about a handful of characters by the end. There were way too many themes and not enough character arcs. Han Sooyoung winced every five minutes. 

The end of the play - a way extensive final scene that wrapped up way too many hanging plotlines - finally drew to a close, and the curtains fell. The small assembly was quiet. The curtains did not rise and there were no bows, because the actors did not want to take ownership of the play.

The sound of heavy, enthusiastic claps broke the silence. Han Sooyoung whipped her head to the side to see Lee Hyunsung sitting on the opposite end, clapping like a marching band. He looked…very proud?

“Bravo!” he bellowed. “Bravo!”

Then Uriel smiled, and began clapping with even greater enthusiasm. “The actors were amazing!” She called. “And the plot was so creative!”

Lee Jihye burst into claps too, one-upping everybody in enthusiasm. “Whoo! My girlfriend wrote that!”

Kim Namwoon whistled annoyingly. “The fifth resurrection scene was totally my idea!”

“Oh, no it wasn’t, that was Jang Hayoung’s -”

“It was Persephone’s, actually,” Jang Hayoung said humbly.

“My,” Lee Seolwha said delicately, “how…original.”

Shin Yoosung clapped politely, swinging her feet. “I liked Sun Wukong. By the end of it, I really wanted him to be happy…”

“I got strangely invested,” Uriel added enthusiastically. “It was oddly hypnotizing.”

“Like a train wreck,” Kim Namwoon drawled. 

“Well, yes, but that is its own entertainment.”

“I kind of ship the two Tang Sazangs,” Jang Hayoung admitted. “Is that weird?”

“What’s shipping?” Uriel asked curiously.

“Oh, it’s when you -”

[The ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ wants you to know that your story was the best he’d seen in a very long time.]

[The ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ has sponsored 10,000 coins.]

Uh. Wow. Really?

Maybe it was because Jang Hayoung had actually asked for his input. Constellations probably weren’t consulted on their own stories very often. It was a little strange if you thought about it. Maybe a little sad too. 

The idea seemed important and potentially lucrative. Han Sooyoung actually pulled up Predictive Storyteller on the matter, rolling to see the retrospective odds on if Sun Wukong would like the play or not. Asking for his input probably increased the odds of him enjoying it significantly, potentially boosting the coin count…

But asking for his input hadn’t changed the odds at all. The odds that Sun Wukong would enjoy Han Sooyoung’s Journey to the West were always 100%. In the futures where Han Sooyoung chose Journey to the West as her play for Yoo Joonghyuk, Sun Wukong always liked it very much. Han Sooyoung couldn’t make much sense of that.

It was a good sign. If even Sun Wukong liked it, then maybe…

Han Sooyoung turned to Yoo Joonghyuk for the first time, heart in her throat. She was oddly nervous. She had glanced at his expression from the corner of her vision throughout the play, but obviously his features stayed stone. His eyebrow hadn’t so much as twitched for two hours. Hadn’t even moved a muscle. Han Sooyoung knew the guy could sit for days without moving a single muscle, but this was an unusual place to apply the skill. He hadn’t gotten up and left, so he probably hadn’t hated it. Right?

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression was stoic. His body language and expression revealed nothing, even to Han Sooyoung. She abruptly found herself a little nervous. A lot nervous. She hadn’t felt this nervous beating up the 13th Demon King. After the fifth time he literally stabbed her she stopped really caring about if he approved of her or not, but this felt a little different…

Time to take the dive. “So…original, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent for a long time. Han Sooyoung’s breath caught. She really hoped he didn’t notice. But she knew he did. 

Finally, he said, “Your sense of humor is consistent across your work.”

Wait. “You’ve read -”

“Some of your anti-religious sentiments also came through.”

“I don’t know about that -”

“The minor spirits were also obviously allegorical for the plight of discarded characters and generic mooks, which is a consistent theme you return to.”

“I feel strongly about the Goombas,” Han Sooyoung said heatedly. “You’re always abusing them in your speedruns! And - and does that mean it was boring?”

“It was new.”

Hell yeah! Mission success! Give her the subquest rewards now, baby, because she just achieved the impossible! But the novelty was really just the completing conditions, not the goal. The goal was ultimately -

“Did you like it?” Han Sooyoung asked eagerly.

“It was bad.”

“But did you like it?”

“Yes,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I liked it very much.”

Han Sooyoung assaulted Yoo Joonghyuk in a hug. Her incredible force met Yoo Joonghyuk’s immovable object, and the force that probably would have cratered anybody else just made Yoo Joonghyuk sway a little. She squeezed him tightly, bending iron bars and slightly squishing his torso, and buried her head in his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcibly ignoring the big emotion rising in her chest. 

“Thank you,” Han Sooyoung muttered. “That makes me so happy…”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say anything. He just hugged her back. But that was loud and clear to Han Sooyoung.

“I love you too, oppa.”

“What the fuck,” Kim Namwoon said.

“Did the Captain just smile ?” Lee Jihye cried. “Guys, guys, look - the Captain’s smiling! What the hell!”

“I didn’t know his face could do that,” Lee Hyunsung said, fascinated. 

Uriel sniffed, emotional. “This is so lovely.”

“Nicest night we’ve had in a long time,” Lee Seolwha agreed. “Interesting show, good company…and the sky is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

The big emotion in her chest was bright and crystal clear. The sounds of her friend’s voices echoed around her, and oppa’s arms were big and safe around her. Han Sooyoung took a mental snapshot of the moment. She’d write it down herself in her records later. She wanted to remember every little detail of this moment. Could she even begin to describe this feeling? Words would fail her. Maybe she could compose words that invoked the memory - painted a picture and let her future self fill in the gaps herself. Readers had to make up for a writer’s shortcomings by painting the scenes with their own brush, but no writer was perfect…

The beautiful night stretched around the small company, hazy and bright. On the far end of the amphitheater, in view of the company and yet unseen, a woman and a man sat together watching the proceedings. Despite the emotions of the scene, both viewers watched impassively. The woman was chain smoking a little heavier than usual.

“This is so twee,” Sooyoung announced. “How come you’re never nice to me like that?”

Joonghyuk didn’t say anything. 

“I’m only human, Joonghyuk-ah. I want hugs too. Do I have to write a terrible play for seonbae to notice me?”

“Get us out of here.”

“Yes sir , Joonghyuk-seonbae. But won’t you ever reply to the love note I left in your locker?”

The look on Joonghuk’s face was growing increasingly dangerous, so Sooyoung got them out of there. 

kdj: ANOTHER HAN SOOYOUNG INTERLUDE! I got so excited when I realized it was her POV! I know that her interludes are really just filler (not that filler’s bad, I know you need a break from plotting or writing more serious stuff sometimes!!!) but they’re very fun. I do have one small point to make however. Or maybe question?

Are these intended to be a tonal break from the rest of the story? Don’t get me wrong, they’re super cute! But the plot’s on the 724th regression right now. Placing this in an earlier regression has to be a deliberate artistic choice. Did you choose to place this during the 712th regression just because of how Han Sooyoung’s life ended that regression? What’s the purpose of putting this chapter next to that completely shock value death? I don’t mean to criticize, but that scene was shitty and unnecessary. I know you’re probably tired of me complaining every time she dies, but you have to agree killing her off like THAT in THAT much detail was frankly uncalled for. You should have picked a regression that didn’t end so terribly for her…or maybe that’s the point you’re making. I’m wondering if that’s the point you’re making.

Still, if you ignore all of that, the chapter is really very heartwarming. Han Sooyoung’s little speech about making good memories really resonated with me. Maybe I should go out and see a play too? I haven’t been out of the house in a while, but I know there’s free outdoor plays around where I live…I can see if they’re as good in person as they are in Ways of Survival, lol. I’ll give it a shot! 

Thank you again for the nice chapter. I don’t mind these slice of life chapters at all.

They woke up with a snap. Rain pattered on top of the tent canvas, providing a marching drum beat as a soundtrack to the stark tent. There was nothing inside but an air mattress, a cracked phone, and a discarded laptop. Two coats were carefully folded and stacked in the corner; two sets of clothes were strewn everywhere. A man and a woman were lying on an air mattress, holding hands.

Joonghyuk sat up immediately, releasing her hand. He ran a hand through his bristly hair - cut with dagger by yours truly - and brought a knee to his chest as he stared fixedly into the zippered door of the tent. Imperceptibly to anybody but Sooyoung, he seemed a little rattled. 

She sat up too, adjusting Joonghyuk’s shirt around her shoulders and yawning. They were both wearing shorts, because it was deeply stupid to assume that you wouldn’t have to escape your tent in the middle of the night and start fighting for your life against demigods, but Sooyoung had robbed Joonghyuk of his shirt and wore it completely unbuttoned. As with everything Sooyoung did, the action had triple utility: it let her look at Joonghyuk’s ridiculous abs for longer, it reminded Joonghyuk of how great her breasts were, and she got to feel cool by wearing the guy’s shirt after sex. Unnecessary? Yes. Secret fantasy of hers? Definitely. Secret fantasy of hers with Joonghyuk’s shirt specifically? She’d never tell.

“I do just want to point out my incredible talents,” Sooyoung said humbly. “Combining Record with Omniscient Author’s Viewpoint seamlessly for hours like that is not easy. Could anybody else in the star stream give you a literal walk down a memory lane a thousand years old? Remember this next time you kick my ass in a fight. I have other talents.”

Joonghyuk didn’t say anything. His elbow was on his knee, and his spine was almost hunched over. It gave Sooyoung a small, unsettled feeling. 

In a moment of temporary insanity, she reached out and gently rested a hand on Joonghyuk’s back. “Joonghyuk? You alright?”

One of his more vicious stories batted her away, and Sooyoung hissed as she withdrew her hand. Message received, asshole. 

“We aren’t doing that again,” Joonghyuk announced. 

Sooyoung was unimpressed. “You said that about the sex too.”

“Shut up.”

Honestly, she didn’t even hear the ‘shut up’s anymore. He could suit himself. Sooyoung shrugged and laid back down, grabbing her phone and curling up on the air mattress to crack open Ways of Survival. Joonghyuk knew way better than to disrupt her nightly ritual. Gilyoung once teased her about it and she had almost pulled his tongue out. 

She had obviously already read the update for today, and she reread Dokja’s comment with interest before carefully copying and pasting it into her notes app. She’d transfer it to the master document later. The book Yoo Joonghyuk was currently chopping his way through the 27th scenario, and Dokja had spent three paragraphs criticizing his inefficiency and proposing how he would do it instead. It always made Sooyoung smile.

Sooyoung pulled up her reference document before pulling up the table of contents, opening the exact chapter that Sooyoung had just shown Joonghyuk. As usual, the book chapter was written and narrated slightly differently than Sooyoung’s own Record, but the events themselves were pretty much the same. 

Normally she always skipped over the Han Sooyoung interludes on a reread, but she was making the effort to stop and walk herself through as many as she could. Accessing Han Sooyoung’s memories wasn’t as easy as it used to be, and the generalized subconscious familiarity she had built up over thousands of years had gone down the drain. It had been bizarre to look at Yoo Joonghyuk and almost see a blank slate. She was going through and rebuilding up her memories of Han Sooyoung, but it was slow going. She would just stop and download all of them if it wouldn’t give her a headache and/or destroy her psyche. Downloading small groups of them at a time and archiving them all individually should build that subconscious understanding back up. And, you know, the thousands of years worth of battle experience. Instincts were everything in this line of work.

In a fit of post-coital insanity, Sooyoung had asked Joonghyuk if he wanted to join her this time. In his usual greater and infinitely more bonkers insanity, he had said yes.

Five chapters later, Joonghyuk finally got over himself. He laid down next to her, staring at the ceiling as Sooyoung stayed curled up scrolling her phone. The arrangement was deeply familiar to the both of them, and one of the only comfortable feelings in the star stream. The tragic downside of knowing your childhood hero since you were eighteen was that you irrationally always felt safe with them. Deeply irrationally. Deeply, deeply, deeply irrationally. 

Almost randomly, Joonghyuk said to the empty air, “What’s Dokja saying?”

Sooyoung clicked back to the most recent update and turned over, holding the phone out to him. He took it and quickly started scrolling through the chapter, face impassive. Sooyoung clearly saw him stop at the bottom of the chapter and scrutinize Dokja’s comment carefully.

“Good strat, right?” Sooyoung said smugly. “You should try it next time.”

Joonghyuk ignored her. He clicked onto the previous chapter and quickly speed-read downwards too, stopping at Dokja’s comment again. He scrolled up, cross-referencing Dokja’s remarks with the story, and scrolled back down again. Sooyoung rolled her eyes.

It had been over a month since they last met up. Neither of them had the desire to see each other frequently, and going through all of the effort of sneaking away from the Industrial Complex and playing hooky from her important jobs frequently wasn’t worth it. On Joonghyuk’s part, he hated stopping his murder sprees long enough to meet up with her. 

So, obviously, Joonghyuk had forty days worth of Dokja comments to catch up on. It was ridiculous. He played all cool and disaffected for weeks, and then he stole her phone and binged Dokja comments. It was humanizing and adorable, but he’d karate chop her if she said that.

“I swear you have a parasocial relationship with that boy,” Sooyoung said, amused. She pillowed her head on her elbow, watching Joonghyuk scroll stone-faced. “I thought you’d hate him. He’s such a fanboy.” 

Obviously, Joonghyuk ignored her. If ignored was the right word. Sooyoung used it a lot, but she knew it wasn’t quite accurate. It actually took him a lot of effort to even drudge up the energy to respond to her. Most of the time he couldn’t be assed. 

Joonghyuk’s default state was deep inside himself. She liked to compare him to a turtle tucked up tightly inside of its shell, allowing the word to fly by him and extending his head to blink at the world with only great effort. The comparison pissed him off, so she kept doing it. 

“What do you think about his strategy for defeating Poseidon?” Sooyoung asked. “You haven’t managed to do it yet. I think it could actually work. We should give it a test run.” 

Miracle of miracles, he actually responded to her. “It’s subpar.”

Joke’s on him. Sooyoung had studied at the feet of the master (Sooyoung) in translating Joonghyuk-ese. “So you think it’s genius.”

Joonghyuk didn’t respond, but Sooyoung didn’t need him to. Dokja was a genius and it pissed him off so bad. His fixation on the Han Sooyoung character - including fucking somehow sneaking her own SIOC into Ways of Survival itself - always made Joonghyuk’s face do a funny thing. Even more hilariously, sometimes Sooyoung saw him nodding along to Dokja’s effusive praises of Han Sooyoung and her many talents. Man wouldn’t admit it (“Sooyoung-ah was a distraction.” “You do realize how you’re destroying your point by calling her that, right?”), but he had a love-hate relationship with Han Sooyoung: he loved her for living, he hated her for dying. Hey, the girl wasn’t a liar.

That happy memory had been so vivid and real in her mind. Her third person limited perspective had even given her an insight into Han Sooyoung’s mind, which was just as insufferable as she expected. She would probably look up how Han Sooyoung’s life ended in that regression, but she really didn’t want to. Maybe she should anyway: unlike Dokja, Sooyoung was confident that the author was attempting to make a point. 

Had Joonghyuk even remembered that day before she showed him? Probably not. Hopefully not. If he clung onto that memory for all these years, then it meant that it had caused him pain for over a thousand regressions. 

Maybe that girl had been right: that ‘oppa’ (Barf.) had hung on for so long because of his happy memories. Or maybe she had been devastatingly wrong: that those good memories had been so insufferable in the face of his hell of eternity that Joonghyuk had purged himself of all emotion hundreds of years ago, turning himself into a husk of a man. 

Maybe it just hadn’t mattered at all. Joonghyuk would always end up here, in this time and place. Han Sooyoung would be the greatest part of this inevitable tragedy: Alcestis, Ophelia, and every girl who was dead from the beginning. Nobody could change Joonghyuk’s narrative, his fated eternal suffering. Not even a spunky sidekick or whatever-the-fuck. Not even her.

“He’s still in love with a dead woman.”

Sooyoung hummed, propping her head on the heel of her palm. “I wish you could have met him. Now that I think about it…maybe you would have really liked each other. You’re really similar.” Despite everything, she found herself smiling. “That’s one happy dream. The two people I care about most in the same place. I can imagine it so easily. You’re…probably bullying him.”

Joonghyuk abruptly clicked her phone off, dropping it on the floor next to him and turning his face away from her. “I don’t love you.” 

“Uh. Okay. Asshole.”

She had already known that. She was not stupid. 

“I will never love you.” Joonghyuk didn’t need to say it at all, but he spoke as if he had to - as if the words were forcing themselves out of his mouth, overwhelming him with their intensity. “We will never have a relationship. That - what you saw. That was not you.”

“Damn, I hope so. This would be kinda weird if it was.”

He had no excuse even on the visual front. Sooyoung had woken up in Han Sooyoung’s body, which obviously kinda-sorta resembled her body but way hotter. Isekai protagonists always enjoyed being in the sparklier, technicolor, hotter body, but Sooyoung was a shitty protagonist and she fucking hated it. Many years ago Sooyoung had run some complex gambit that ‘inadvertently’ led to her ‘real’ body dying and transferring her consciousness into an Avatar body - the bodies she created that always looked like how she perceived herself. It had been a relief for both of them.

“That was not you,” Joonghyuk repeated, even more forcefully. Why? She was agreeing with him. “I’ve kept you alive for years because you are useful to me. I would kill you myself if you got in my way.”

 Blah blah blah. Sooyoung sat up, not-accidentally reminding him that she was wearing his shirt. “Yeah, I remember the first five times you told me. Weird how you only started that murdering me thing back up once you actively jumped through hoops and betrayed gods to avoid killing me.”

Joonghyuk’s face blanked out. “You were useful.”

“I know. Then our agreement’s still the same.” Sooyoung smiled, and she found that she wasn’t sad at all. “You kill me, you do it with your own two hands. No swords or nothing. Feel my breath leave me.”

Joonghyuk was silent.

“So Dokja can read it,” Sooyoung said simply. “When Ways of Survival hits regression 1863. So he can read you killing me again. What do you think he’d say? OOC again?”

Joonghyuk was silent. 

“Or do you think he’d know that this was who you are now? He’d understand exactly who you are. And the only person left in the star stream who thinks of you as a hero will know you’re a bad person. Is that something you can afford to lose, Joonghyuk?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Joonghyuk said harshly. “He doesn’t know me.”

“I wish he did.” Despite everything, Sooyoung really did believe that. “He’d like you.”

Joonghyuk didn’t ask. The soft little turtle inside of his shell wanted to ask, but he wasn’t brave enough to open his mouth. He desperately wanted to know, but he could never put the words on his tongue: 

Do you think he’d still like me now? Despite everything? Would I still be his hero?

“You’re still mine,” Sooyoung said. 

Joonghyuk leaned forward and kissed her, betraying everything.

Maybe Sooyoung was betraying something by kissing him back. But she didn’t think so.