Work Text:
If he fought, he would survive... Victim realized this when he left the square box and appeared in the entire world that was just a "box", with nothing except a white space like a paper cut in pitch black like the bottom of an abyss. And "that thing" appeared in front of him. At that time, he didn't know what it was. But what was certain was that "that thing" was the one who created him. He didn't understand why the first second he regained consciousness, he was hurt by the creator. The only thing Victim wanted was
He wanted to live...he wanted to exist. And in order to get those things, he had to fight, even if he didn't understand the creator's wishes. In the second he thought that with more of him, he would have a chance to survive being erased, everything was like being made to stop. Even though his body couldn't move...but every movement in front of him still happened clearly.
The knock sounded and his world turned dark... But just as he thought that everything was over, the black and white world in the same box appeared in front of him again, along with the figure of that thing that made him panic. Unexpectedly, the box around him was quickly squeezed tighter, before his entire body was thrown away like a piece of trash, and Victim's world turned black again. But... This was just the beginning.
If he couldn't fight, he had to run away. Victim thought as he shuffled his feet to run with all his might, but he wasn't fast enough. His body was lifted up until his two legs were floating off the ground.
"No, no, no!" He screamed. The clicking sound made him turn around in shock.
"No, please...!" But he couldn't say it all. The feeling of excruciating pain was the only thing he felt.
And it would be the same over and over again. Many large rocks were thrown at him. The force made him fall down.
"Please, stop! Please!" Victim begged, but for some reason, his voice couldn't reach him. The last thing he knew was the large rock hitting his body. Victim thought that if he could raise his arm to protect himself, he might be hurt less. And it was true... in exchange for a broken arm that he could no longer use to protect himself.
It was like an endless nightmare. The sound of bones being crushed until his body became one with the ceiling above, the entire body underwater, as he tried to swim up to find air to breathe, but the ceiling was tightly closed, with no air holes for him to use. Struggling... could not save him from death. He was too weak, powerless to escape death... but if he tried harder, he might survive.
But it was not like that. He was chopped, pushed, punched, bombed, hit by a car until his whole body was bruised, but he still wanted to survive. That was the only thing he wanted no matter what the price was. But there was never a time he could run away. It was like Victim was just a mouse in a box. In front of him was something more valuable and powerful than anything else. The sound of the cursor clicking made him twitch as hard as he could, trying to run away again. But his legs were gone.
"No!" Victim cried. Both of his legs were gone, but he still wanted to live.
"Please, please." Please let me exist. Please let me live. Please stop hurting me. But those words were not spoken. From his legs... to his body. But still... he wanted to live... his life.
"Someone... someone help me." If he stretched out his palm, would someone receive his palm?
He wanted someone to help him out of this torture. It could be anything, anything. Just once... to let him live and breathe. If it could be true, he would want nothing more than this. But there was never anyone's hand. There were never words of comfort. A lullaby that lured him into believing that he was just having a nightmare... but it wasn't like that. Not knowing when the pleading became a scream that couldn't be uttered. The endless night continued... forever.
“Vic…Vic Vic!” The familiar voice made Victim wake up, feeling as if he was drowning. He felt suffocated as he struggled on the ground that was swallowing him alive. Someone else’s voice was still nearby, but it was so far away. It was like he was in a box where all the air had been sucked out, making him unable to breathe, unable to scream, weak and powerless, even if he begged for his life.
Before he knew it, the familiar arms gently hugged him, and his ringing ears slowly returned.
“It’s okay now, it’s okay now. Sister is here now,” Mitsi repeated the words, her hands gently stroking his hair.
“There’s nothing to be afraid now, Vic. Just breathe with me. Inhale, exhale, like that.” Victim’s breathing became so easy… if Mitsi could guide him.
It was like waking up from an endless night. The light of the sun had appeared, the rainbow of a new day. The warmth and gentleness, no matter how bad things were… those bad things would disappear. Thinking like that made him cry uncontrollably. Hugging Mitsi's body as if letting go, those things would disappear forever.
"Vic, don't cry, don't cry. Are you really okay?" Mitsi asked with concern, which made VIctim cry even more.
"I had a nightmare, Mitsi. I had a really bad nightmare." Victim said while crying, feeling his eyes burning.
"Yeah, I know. You cried so loud that came all the way to my room," Mitsi replied, which made Victim look up with guilt.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to..." But before Victim could finish his sentence, both of Mitsi's hands were used to support his cheeks as if holding a fragile piece of glass.
"Don't apologize, Vic. This isn't your fault," Mitsi said with sincerity.
"Even though I don't know what happened to you, and maybe I can't even imagine what caused you this much pain, I want Vic to remember that as your sister, I will protect you.”
“…Even a nightmare?” Victim asked, feeling a faint smile appear on his face.
“Hmm!” Mitsi nodded in confirmation, her hands on her hips on Victim’s bed, and she lifted her head confidently.
“Even if it’s that cursor, I’ll tell him that if he hurts my family or Rocket Cop., he’ll regret it.” Her confidence made the darkness in the world disappear like she had seen the sun shining. That gesture made Victim hold back his laughter… with joy.
“Thank you, Mitsi.” Victim spoke sincerely, slowly wiping away the tears on his face with his trembling fingers.
“You’re welcome! It’s already late, hurry up and go to bed. We have to go to work in the morning. I don’t want Smith to scold me for being late.” As Mitsi was talking, she lay down with her pillow, puffing her cheeks when she thought of the fierce gaze of the company’s security guard who liked to stare at her when she snoozes during work.
“Why do you want to sleep in my bed, Mitsi?” Victim asked curiously. Because their bedrooms were separate. Even though they were siblings, Victim was still a boy, even though outsiders thought they were a “couple”. But that was for Mitsi’s own reputation. You don’t know how much trouble his sister had with the old CEO before Victim went to a social event with Mitsi. It made the media and outsiders think they were a couple.
And no one wants to share a bed with anyone, right? But Victim knew that Mitsi definitely didn't want to snatch his bed.
"Come on, if Vic has another nightmare, how can I protect you?" Mitsi said, waving for him to lie down again. Her relaxed and comfortable manner made her younger brother sigh with a smile, lying down next to her, extending his head to receive the palm of his sister's hand that stroked his hair and laughed fondly.
"...Mitsi," Victim whispered, calling out to Mitsi, who was lying with her eyes closed in front of him, to hum in response.
"Is this really you who are with me?" He asked in fear, trying his hardest to control his tone, but it was too difficult... even in front of her smile that she gave him without any reservation.
"Vic asked something strange, you spoke as if you were dreaming," Mitsi smiled, her eyes still closed.
"...Is that so... Then "that" is really a nightmare," Victim said in relief, which made the audience laugh.
"Of course it is," Mitsi said and laughed. Her palm stroked Victim's hair, coaxing him to slowly close his eyes.
"That kind of scary thing, it'll never happen..." However, Mitsi couldn't finish her sentence. Her voice disappeared, like a broken record, causing him to jolt awake.
He found a gray desk. The light that used to emit from the computer screen was turned off from being used. The sound of the clock called Victim to slowly push his arm off the desk, looking around the empty and cold office.
"... I must have dreamed it." Victim muttered softly, slowly massaging his eyelids with his palms, feeling tired. His neck and back aches from sleeping at the desk for hours.
The silence that arose made Victim let out a long sigh. No matter how tired he was, his duties as a CEO still had to go on. When he thought that, he stretched out his arm to shake off the aches and pains, and turned on the computer to deal with documents and reports again. The sound of the keyboard gradually broke the silence that had occurred, and soon the pile of documents that had been stacked up in disorder would gradually be arranged again.
The sound of the clock on the phone called Victim to lift the phone to see the schedule, which he had recorded as “Meeting.” Victim stood up and sighed exhaustedly, put on his coach jacket and stepped out of the office to go to the meeting room that had been arranged to discuss the next steps of the company's work. Even though Victim wanted coffee to enter his body before sitting in the meeting room, there was no time to get away to grab a crappy cup of coffee.
But Victim would be fine. He hoped that he would be able to overcome the fatigue from work because now, aside from the paperwork, Victim could say with full confidence that he did not have to work as hard as before. His confidence was immediately destroyed when he sat at the head of the meeting room table, which was full of department heads, all eyes on the projector in front of the meeting room.
I'm dead, Victim thought as he clasped his hands together in front of him, using them to support his chin to prevent him from accidentally falling asleep with his neck bent as hard as he could, just like his eyes that were about to close half-closed because of his exhaustion. The stock market report of the company at this time was getting farther and farther away, even Victim immediately felt the death of his sanity approaching. When will the meeting end? Victim screamed to his own sanity.
Maybe it would be good to rest his eyes for a while. Victim tried to side with himself. His eyes gradually became heavier and heavier. But before his eyelids could close completely, a familiar smell made Victim's eyes open and glance at the paper cup from which hot steam was rising... Without delay, Victim took a quiet sip from the paper cup while glancing at Agent Smith's body.
He was adjusting his sunglasses as if he was going to tell everyone in the conference room that the appearance of the mysterious coffee cup had nothing to do with him. Victim did not intend to refuse this kindness because he did not want to lose face and sleep in the company conference room. And thanks to the power of caffeine, Victim was saved from the embarrassment in the conference room, but...
As soon as he returned to the office, he squatted down on the sofa, growling in his throat as if his body and mind were aching. The softness of the cushion almost immediately made Victim's eyelids heavy, along with the sound of the elevator doors opening.
"Boss..." Agent Smith's voice rang out as Victim's consciousness slowly faded.
"Give me 15 minutes, Smith," Victim begged, asking for even a little rest for his eyes.
Perhaps... if he fell asleep now, he wouldn't dream. As sad as it was to not meet Mitsi in his dream, at least he wouldn't be in pain when he woke up. And if he didn't dream, he wouldn't have nightmares from the past to haunt him. The last thing Victim could feel before he lost consciousness was a thick hand stroking his hair slowly and gently, just like Mitsi used to do. Unfortunately, Victim had no idea what Smith had said to him.
--
“Anything, Vic. Anything for you,” Smith said softly, his palm gently and carefully stroking Victim’s dark hair. Even though the CEO had said throughout the training to deal with the “Angel of Death,” he was not made of fragile glass, and to be honest, never give in to a CRO.” For Agent Smith, Victim was both fragile and strong at the same time. But that strength was not something that could be maintained all the time.
Just like in the lives of ordinary people, sometimes it was a good day, sometimes it was a bad day, which could be more than good. It was not easy to restore Rocket Cop. to stability. And for a new CEO like Victim, who had different ideas and perspectives from the previous CEO, Mitsi, Victim had a lot of problems. The company had debts, the stock price plummeted, employees resigned every day, and even his reputation was ruined by outsiders.
Just from Victim trying so hard not to fall asleep in the meeting, Smith could tell how proud he was of him (even with the caffeine Smith brought). It was fine for the CEO to take a break for a couple of hours. What would make Agent Smith unhappy would be the CEO's method of returning to work until he was almost dead, rather than rushing production for a single goal, which was to arrest Mitsi's killer.
Agent Smith sighed in exhaustion. He had no time to regret bringing the video to Victim, to get him out of his and the company's lowest point. Because without the desired goal, Agent Smith would not be able to keep his promise to Mitsi and his own oath. If you were to accuse Agent Smith of being selfish, he would gladly accept it. Because he would not be able to look at the sun in the afterlife if he could not protect Victim.
While checking the time on his watch and checking the CEO's schedule to make sure that everything was organized and that there would be no special meeting or appointment with any executives at this time, the only thing he would be worried about would be the urgent paperwork that needed Victim's signature. Agent Smith was confident in his ability to handle that chaos for sure and as smoothly as possible.
Agent Smith adjusted Victim's chair slightly so that the other person would not have too much neck pain. After putting on a pillow, he slowly walked out of the room, not forgetting to leave the flash drive that contained the video footage and audio of the meeting so that If Victim woke up, he would take it out to review what was in the conference room. Before Smith could bring the coffee, he knew he was running late for the first part of the meeting.
He went back to finish writing his report again. When his watch sounded the time, he called for him to look and found that it was time to close the building. The time passed quickly, so Smith adjusted his sunglasses as he walked around the building as he usually did. Although he no longer had to work as a security guard, the labor problems had decreased as the company became stable again, both in terms of trading and the stock that was slowly climbing.
But Agent Smith wanted to make sure that the security guards he had trained and personally selected would not forget to check a room before he left. And taking the elevator upstairs to Victim's office, even though the lights were off, the CEO's body was still in the same place Smith found him. The flash drive he had placed on the table in the spot where the owner of the company would see it immediately when he woke up had not moved a millimeter from its original spot, indicating that someone had slept through it.
"Give me 15 minutes, Smith. Of course 15 minutes." Smith sighed and shook his head in exasperation. It seemed that making Victim comfortable to rest his eyes for Agent Smith had the opposite effect, as the prolonged lack of sleep had a noticeable effect when the comfort of resting occurred. However, Smith chose not to blame the unconscious person in front of him. Victim's workaholic personality was something Agent Smith really could not handle.
"Congratulations, Vic. It seems you have to go back to your place to sleep," Agent Smith said, knowing that the listener would never be conscious, causing him to laugh at himself amusedly. He tidied up the Boss's office. And easily carried the body of the Victim in his arms, even though Agent Smith could not avoid the eyes of the CCTV, he was careful to take the path that might lead him and the Boss to meet the night security guard.
He knew that the Victim did not like anyone to see him as weak, even though he did not show that he was interested. But showing anger was the response of the Boss that Agent Smith knew. If he could make the reputation that was almost gone of the employer still stick with him without being shaky as a good employee, he wanted to help maintain it as much as possible. In less than a moment, Agent Smith was able to bring the unconscious body of the Victim back to the CEO's house.
It was no different from the last time Agent Smith had traveled here. Who would have thought that even at this time, Rocket Cop. had gradually returned to create a big wave of the technology industry again? A huge amount of money could not change the CEO's house into a large and luxurious mansion as many people thought. And Agent Smith knew what the reason was. Because as soon as he took the house key out of the pocket of the CEO who was sleeping like a dead person,
What welcomed Smith was not a messy and untidy house, a miniature research center, a basement for storing technology for world domination plans, or a hiding place for the doomsday that might never come. It was still the same house, where everything had not moved, even the decorations, souvenirs from overseas, photos of when the company was first opened, fishing, driving tractors, and even roof repairs.
It was like a moment of happiness had been frozen, a face with only a smile that whenever you looked at it, it made you think of and feel sad at the same time. Agent Smith simply took a deep breath and stepped in, closed the door behind him, and headed straight to the second floor, where he could see two closed doors. Although both doors were painted the same shade of blue, the sign in front of the door had a handmade sign that read Mitsi and Vic.
Agent Smith led the CEO into his bedroom, carefully lied him down on the bed, took off his shoes, and loosened his hair, letting it hang loose to make his sleep more comfortable. The blanket was pulled up to his chin, before a disgusting thought occurred to him. Agent Smith shook his head to regain his senses and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, feeling increasingly exhausted.
He let out a long sigh, looked at his watch, and it was telling him, Smith, that it was too late for you to travel home, and more importantly, you would fall asleep before you arrived. When the truth was revealed, Agent Smith slowly sat down on the living room sofa, removed the bulletproof vest that he was wearing uncomfortably. Being free from it made him growl in relief, and sank down on the sofa, taking off his sunglasses on the coffee table.
Looking at the ceiling of the room where the moonlight from outside could be seen through the slightly opened curtains, the irritation that made his eyes well up with tears made Agent Smith close his eyes. His eyes had never been a match for light of any kind. Since he could remember, the only thing that allowed him to live like a normal person and work like a normal person was the sunglasses that came with him, as if they were part of his body.
At the same time... it might be his imperfection as well. The irritation in his eyes gradually eased when Agent Smith used his hand to cover his forehead to block the light that was coming through his face, while controlling his breathing to be steady to help his consciousness not be scattered by the irritation in his eyes that was left behind, without him realizing it. The mercenary's night had arrived, everything had become quiet.
Before...
It was as if his entire body had been thrown down by the laws of the world. Smith had no idea what had happened. The last thing he remembered was that he was still at the company's 4th anniversary party, where everything was full of fun before everyone disappeared into thin air. Smith immediately ran to Victim's body, his duty to protect him was his duty. But before long, he was in a strange place, where the only light was in front of him.
Smith scrambled for the lamp to find the source of the light. As soon as his palm touched the ground, even though it was unfamiliar, if this was his way out, he would grab it. The breath he had been holding involuntarily was released as he choked and coughed until he bent over. Screams and explosions were heard everywhere. When he lost his sunglasses, Smith could not perceive what was happening around him. Tears completely destroyed his vision.
"Smith! Smith!" Mitsi's voice called him to look. The image in front of him was so blurry, but the voice he heard was definitely not wrong. It was Mitsi's voice.
"Mitsi, are you okay?" Smith asked worriedly. She had disappeared into the party first, so meeting at any given time was quite confusing.
“Don’t worry about me! Here are your sunglasses.” Mitsi handed him something black. Smith put it on his face as Mitsi’s small arms pulled him out of the dissipating box. Smith turned to look at it as Mitsi supported him as their feet ran away from the chaos and explosions around them. Smith looked at it in confusion, because before the box disappeared, he didn’t understand why it had his face on it.
“This way! This way!” The voices of soldiers behind the large tanks were shooting something into the sky, fighting something so fast and so small that it was hard to hit the target. Smith was sent with the owner of the voice to carry his arm, which was aching all over, out of this chaos.
“Wait! Mitsi! Mitsi!” Smith shouted. He tried to look for her in a panic.
It can’t happen. It can’t happen again. He repeated these words over and over like a broken record. His eyes behind his sunglasses scanned Mitsi’s body in a panic. She was running to help the civilians who were crushed by the rubble. Her small arms stretched out as hard as they could until the body crawled out. Now and then, Smith knew what was going to happen. He had to run. He had to run to save her.
But why? His legs were moving too slowly. The sound of the bomb came again. The fear made Mitsi scream and cover her ears with both hands in fear. Everything was covered in black smoke. Smith regained consciousness. However, he woke up again with blinding light.
“Smith! Smith, hold on,” Mitsi’s voice rang out, but she was so far away.
Smith didn’t know what was happening. All he knew was the sound of a huge explosion, and he was back where he started. This time, he quickly put on his sunglasses and wasn’t as injured as before.
“Smith! Are you okay?” Mitsi ran in, her face full of worry. No matter what happened before, Smith didn’t answer her question, he quickly picked her up and put her on his shoulder and started running.
The image of the group of tanks shooting at something was getting closer. Smith ran even harder, but it wasn’t fast enough. A flash of light appeared, the ground beneath his feet exploded, and the shrapnel that cut through his skin tore everything apart. He tried to regain his senses.
“Mitsi,” where are you? The words hadn’t even come out yet. Her screams rang out, and everything went black.
The story kept looping back and forth like a video tape playing in reverse, making Smith try to find a way to save her life, whether it was pushing her out of danger, running back to help, or even running the other way to avoid her death on the same path repeatedly. But it wasn’t enough. No matter which way is chosen, no matter which solution is found, the same ending will come back again and again.
Just like this time, Smith chose to help Mitsi lift the wreckage of the building so that the civilians can crawl out. With his greater strength, it must be faster than ever before. As soon as he was able to help him out, Smith did not hesitate to grab her wrist.
"We have to go! Hurry!" Smith shouted and did not let Mitsi shout to stop him. The panic made Smith not care if he left a palm print on her arm or not. He would not let it happen. It absolutely could not happen...
Another explosion came down again, but what was waiting for Smith was not a repeat of the beginning of the chaos, but a white space with nothing, not the screams, the heat of the flames, or the ruins of the collapsed building. It was emptiness, on the ground patterned with the body of a young girl lying motionless, every image playing over and over, every possibility and ending that happened every time he believed that he could change something even a little.
Smith could do nothing but cry... Yes, the big man who had been trusted by two important people, who gave him a reason to feel that the life he was born had meaning, was crying like a puppy kicked on the side of the road, the light above the white box was turned off one by one, until only the light above his head was left in the black box, where the uncontrollable sobs echoed endlessly.
Beyond the light was her small hand that reached out, Mitsi's body was there, her body covered in dust and concrete powder, completely mangled.
"Smith... Smith, help me, please," her voice begged, her eyes full of fear and tears streaming down her cheeks. Smith screamed pitifully. His sanity was gone, like a madman who could not do anything, not even lift the stone from her body.
“Let me save her, let me save her, let me save her.” Smith did not know what he was asking for. He could not pull the stone. It was as if it had turned into a mountain of guilt that grew higher and higher, like the palm of an angel of death who would not allow anyone to change the name in the soul register. The ridiculous and undignified request continued to ring out farther and farther away. Smith saw Mitsi die before his eyes again… and he could do nothing but watch it happen again… and again.
--
Victim woke up and found himself in his bedroom at home. A dry throat had woken him up from his usual bed. As he was about to jump off the soft mattress, a strange sound in the quiet house made Victim slightly alert. He carefully stepped out of the room to go downstairs. Only an incomprehensible mutter came from the living room where someone was lying.
Smith was lying on his couch. Victim approached him with concern because he had never seen what was happening at this moment...Smith was crying, tears streaming down his face uncontrollably with his hands clutching his chest in agony. In his incomprehensible moan, a sentence was uttered before Victim was considering whether he should bring Smith back to his senses or not.
"Please...please let me save her. Please," Smith said while sleeping and crying.
Victim was neither surprised nor shocked. He simply stopped his hands and went straight to the sink to filter some water to quench his thirst before returning. He took a pillow from one of the couches and put it on the floor. As he lay down, one of the hands that had dropped according to the law of the world off Smith's sofa called for Victim to hold it and not think of letting go. He watched Smith's larger hand slowly squeeze his hand, but not so hard that he felt pain.
"You tried, Smith. You tried so hard. Don't blame yourself," Victim said in a soft voice, even though he knew that his voice could not reach the listener in his dream. The sound of crying gradually became fainter. In the silence with only the cicadas outside, this night was also endless. It was like every night when he woke up, the sunlight he saw outside was just something created to deceive the passing of time.
When the sun fades, will the moon and stars shine?
when they were awake and when they were asleep,
it was an endless night.