Chapter Text
“…wh ⠷ at ∮ th Êe bl ð ⠵ck?!..”
“…if ⣿k μ Ħ we ű œo interf Ω ⠏ere ⠾v ζ…”
“…clo øse đ ev ⠶ery br ≠ ⠯ea!..”
It hurts…
Too much…
When was the last time it hurt this badly?..
He tries to push himself up on his hands, but his body is far too weak. As if he’s been pumped full of some kind of drug—his hands are trembling, a nauseating weakness washes over him, and bile pushes up from inside his throat, forcing him to barely suppress the urge to vomit. With a martyr’s groan, he somehow turns his head, realizing that he is practically rubbing his nose against the stone tiles of the floor.
Cold…
At least that’s something good…
There is noise all around—a strange din—and familiar sounds mix with hissing and clicking noises that shred his consciousness into splinters even more. He frowns, tries to lift his eyelids, feeling as though someone has generously thrown sand into his eyes.
“…st ⠊ill no ∩ ⠳ Σood!..”
“…alm ħost!..”
A groan sounds nearby.
It seems he’s not alone here—not at all…
Could it be one of his companions?..
“…the l ∮ ⠭ast ⠒y sh ╩ot!..”
A sharp, vibrating sound pierces the space, as if gnawing into the base of his skull. It’s too much, too much—and he screams, pressing his forehead into the cold floor tiles.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!..
It feels as though his head is about to explode when everything abruptly stops. The pain and the horrific sound—drilling into what remains of his sanity—cease at the same time, allowing him to go limp.
It seems he’s shaking…
Dear God, he’s shaking…
This has never happened before, not even in the most terrifying and monstrous times—he had always, always stood firm, even when balancing on the edge, so why, why does he feel this vile dampness on his face, why is he so hollow, why—…
“…one of them has woken up.”
There is no more interference. No hissing or clicking.
Clear, almost melodic speech reaches his ears, but—…
“That’s not so important. It seems it was too much for him.”
…he falls into darkness once again.
Yoo Joonghyuk vaguely remembers his life before this endless chain of death and regressions in the Apocalypse.
He knows that he was a pro gamer. Probably one of the best.
…he doesn’t have even the faintest trace of memories of which games he played, for which company, or what nickname he used…
He is certain that he raised his younger sister, Mia, on his own.
…his memory doesn’t preserve even vague outlines of their parents’ faces; instead, there are only blurred, faceless figures devoid of any distinguishing features…
And even before the apocalyptic chaos began, he had possessed a strong sense of justice.
…otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed at that terrorist, right?..
But was there something else? Something more concrete, something deeper?
Emptiness.
Nothing.
As if the Apocalypse and the endless chain of regressions had gradually devoured every last grain of his past that could still be preserved in his damaged memory.
However, sitting now on a couch in a large room, Yoo Joonghyuk is somehow certain: this is exactly what a pro gamer’s game room should look like. An imposing space, several couches arranged in a semicircle with small coffee tables—and massive connected screens directly in front of the couches.
‘All that’s missing are the power supplies and a keyboard with a controller…’ Yoo Joonghyuk thinks a bit distantly, watching out of the corner of his eye as his companions slowly begin to come to.
They’re all here.
Well…
Almost all of them.
He sees Han Sooyoung, quietly swearing as she rubs the back of her head. Nearby, Yoo Sangah is trying to sit up straight, children clinging to her with soft whimpers, their faces twisted in pain. Lee Hyunsung somehow leans forward, massaging his temples and squeezing his eyes shut, while Jung Heewon hunches over with a martyr-like groan, only by some miracle managing to keep down what she’s eaten. Lee Jihye hasn’t come to yet, but her eyelids are already twitching, her brows slowly drawing together on the verge of waking.
“What the… What the hell is this?!” he has never been so glad to hear Han Sooyoung’s overly loud voice; it scatters his thoughts and lets him think clearly.
“This… how is this possible?..” Yoo Sangah is calmer, but even on her face a flicker of panic appears. She gently pulls the children closer as they begin to look around timidly. “Aren’t the Scenarios already over?”
“Before a Scenario started, there was always a notification,” the man speaks up, drawing their attention. Off to the side, Jung Heewon mutters quietly, shaking her head. “This time, there was nothing like that. We just ended up here.”
He speaks without much intonation, continuing to examine the surroundings, but no one reproaches him for it. In the end, they’re all in a state where it’s hard to feel anything other than exhaustion and irritation.…they still haven’t come to terms with the fact that all this time, it wasn’t Kim Dokja who had been beside them, but… only a part of him.
It’s painful. It’s hard. It’s—…
Yoo Joonghyuk finds himself thinking more and more often about another regression.
One that could fix everything. One that would give them all a real, true “■■”. One where they would all be together—truly together.
For now, he holds himself back.
The key phrase being “for now.”
…perhaps he should discuss everything with the others before he does anything at all.
“Right, this is clearly not the <Star Stream>,” Han Sooyoung frowns after failing to open the Scenario window. She presses her lips together. “Then what is it? Some surviving Constellation decided to play around? Or the Outer Gods?”
Silence settles over the room, in which the sniffing of Lee Jihye, suffering from a headache, can be heard especially clearly.
It would be convenient to pin everything on the <Star Stream> or the dokkaebi, but—no. Yoo Joonghyuk feels this especially strongly, likely because of his direct connection to the one who upholds the very existence of their cosmos.
This place…
Yoo Joonghyuk surveys the surroundings suspiciously, noting that the walls are too smooth, the ceiling far too high, the smells…
…there were no smells here.
…at all.
That simply couldn’t be.
Smells exist everywhere. One way or another—from plaster, from paint, from the leather of the couches, from new technology… From the people present in the room. Even dust has its own specific scent; even if its source is bacteria rather than the dust itself, but… but.
In this place, there were no scents. None.
Before the thought can fully settle in the mind of the suspiciously squinting Yoo Joonghyuk, a soft sound of footsteps echoes through the room. The conversations of his companions, just beginning to regain strength, fall silent at once.
Footsteps.
The regressor clenches his fists, only now realizing that the sheath with his ever-present blade—which he had recently begun wearing at his waist again—is gone. It makes him feel unusually vulnerable.
They hear footsteps, yes.
Unhurried, even lazy. With a light clicking sound, like that of heels—not tall ones, but heels nonetheless.
Except there is no one who should be making those sounds.
The former Incarnations scan the area warily, trying to determine the source of the strange noise, and at some point Shin Yoosung lets out a quiet gasp, staring in one direction. Instantly, that spot becomes the center of everyone’s attention.
Joonghyuk’s eyes widen, his pupils trembling.
“What the fu—…” Han Sooyoung’s stunned muttering cuts off abruptly.
From emptiness, from fucking nothing, a figure begins to manifest.
It is a woman. Not very tall, dressed in a business skirt suit of a rather… strange cut. Yoo Joonghyuk isn’t particularly interested in fashion—and how could he be, when survival had been the only thing that mattered in his last several lives—but he doubts that such a combination of a classic style with a frilled jabot is normal. Not to mention the fact that the fabric seems to shimmer with every movement, unpleasantly reminiscent of the night sky. Silver chains stretch from the sleeves of her tailcoat to her shoulders, lightly chiming with each step, and the large gemstone set into the brooch at her jabot seems to glow.
But the clothes are one thing.
Her appearance.
Yoo Joonghyuk has seen many people over the course of his regressions—both grotesque monsters and peerless beauties. Kim Dokja is a separate matter altogether; no one in their group can still truly describe that bastard’s face, and even the appearance of the 49%—whom none of them, out of principle, call by the name of their little rat—remains somewhat blurred to them.
The woman walking toward them at an unhurried pace, holding some kind of folder in her hands, is not particularly remarkable. There is no explosive beauty, no provocative makeup, no distinctive features.
And yet every one of them tenses, wary of making any unnecessary movement.
…The smile.
…That’s what it is—the smile.
The unfamiliar lady is smiling in a way no human being should be able to smile. Soulless, yet at the same time monstrously wide. As if she is trying to show that she is glad to see them, while inwardly wishing for them to sink into the ground.
The gaze of her gray-green eyes—belonging to this… “Lady with the Folder”—is just as unsettling. Yoo Joonghyuk leans back slightly when she looks straight at him.
Whoever she is, she clearly does not hold them in particularly high regard.
“You’ve come to your senses. Good. Very good.”
The voice sounds through the room—calm, even pleasant… except the “Lady with the Folder’s” mouth doesn’t move. Her purple-lined lips remain stretched in the same smile.
“We were concerned that crossing the boundary might affect you more severely. But it seems everything turned out fine…”
Yoo Joonghyuk mentally adds “unfortunately” to her words. That is exactly what he can read in the depths of her eyes as she opens the folder.
“What do you mean, ‘turned out fine’?” Han Sooyoung finally speaks up; Yoo Joonghyuk is even a little surprised at how long she stayed silent, knowing that witch’s temperament. “Where the hell are we? And who are you?”
The “Lady with the Folder” freezes for a moment. A sense of almost lethal danger pierces the regressor—and not just him, judging by how everyone else in their group goes still. But a moment later, the soft voice echoes through the room again:
“Surely you’re curious about how you ended up here, and why.”
Han Sooyoung is almost indignant at being ignored.
Almost.
…despite everything, she isn’t suicidal.
Slender fingers quickly flip through the thick stack of papers, fish out a thin, nearly translucent sheet covered in small white strings of sentences.
“It’s all quite simple.”
The “Lady with the Folder” smiles wider, narrowing her eyes slightly. Unhurriedly, she walks toward the massive screens.
“Your wish will not come true.”
Not a single sound escapes Han Sooyoung’s mouth, which had just opened again. Everyone in the group freezes.
Their wish?..
She can’t mean—…
“What does that mean?” Yoo Joonghyuk frowns, never taking his wary—yet faintly threatening—gaze off the “Lady with the Folder.” She gives a slight shrug. The ruffles on her blouse sway gently.
“Exactly what it is meant to mean. Your dream will not come true. It is impossible.”
The translucent sheet flickers in the “Lady with the Folder’s” fingers.
“Now impossible, yes.”
“What the hell—…”
Han Sooyoung chokes on her words as the sheet begins to disappear right before their eyes. It dissolves into silvery sparks, unpleasantly reminiscent of Probability, and those sparks seem to devour the page. As soon as the strange paper dissolves into the air as if it had never existed, the screens in front of the couches begin to flicker.
“You see, two factors played their part here.”
The “Lady with the Folder” smiles a little wider, and—yes. Yes. Now Yoo Joonghyuk is certain.
The uncanny valley, right? Oh no, this is something else entirely. Instinct—that is what beats warily in unison with his heart, and it has never once failed the “Supreme King.”
The being before them has merely taken on a human form.
It is absolutely not human.
“First—you were too late.”
Everyone’s gaze is fixed on the relaxed woman, who is clearly taking some sort of pleasure in what’s happening.
Jung Heewon, now fully conscious, frowns but keeps her mouth shut—and Yoo Joonghyuk knows that at times she can deliver barbs even sharper than Han Sooyoung’s. The children cling to Yoo Sangah from both sides, not taking their almost hostile eyes off the stranger, while Sangah herself chews at her lips, filled with worry. Lee Hyunsung clenches his fists, while Lee Jihye studies the “Lady with the Folder,” and Yoo Joonghyuk understands—his disciple is trying to identify weak points in a potential opponent.
But none of them move.
“Unfortunately, something happened as a result of which the Oldest Dream—better known to you as Kim Dokja—has already ‘crossed the Rubicon.’ How should I put it…”
(TN: “Crossed the Rubicon” is an idiomatic expression. It comes from Roman history: when Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon River, he was committing an irreversible act that led to civil war. After that step, there was no going back. So basically it means (Kim Dokja has passed a point of no return).)
The “Lady with the Folder” taps her finger against her chin, never stopping her smile.
“He made two mistakes that cost his essence its stability. The first mistake was splitting his memories in order to create a copy for you…”
Yoo Joonghyuk flinches—and he’s not the only one. Every single one of them thinks of the 49%, who is now practically confined in their home. They hadn’t known what to do with him—couldn’t bring themselves to do anything to him—so they simply kept him, so to speak, under supervision. But it was hard for all of them to interact with that… being, which meant he was treated more like a pet than a full-fledged member of the group.
…Yoo Joonghyuk might have felt a semblance of guilt, but he doesn’t. Not when he realizes that the appearance of the 49% was a fully deliberate, conscious decision made by that crafty little rat of theirs.
They had already thought about this—that splitting his memories could have a harmful effect on the condition of their Kim Dokja. And those thoughts, which they stubbornly tried to drive away, had only been growing stronger lately, taking root deeper and deeper in their minds.
…what if Dokja weakened after that?
…what if he’s barely managing to hold on?
…what if the <Star Stream> is slowly devouring him from the inside?
If, if, if.
A word that gives hope just as much as it takes it away.
And now, the regressor can see it clearly—after the “Lady with the Folder’s” words, all those poisonous thoughts return once more.
…because now they are no longer just conjectures.
“…the second mistake Dokja-ya made was that he couldn’t simply observe.”
The woman lifts the folder to cover the lower half of her face, and Yoo Joonghyuk flinches: now that that horrifying, disorienting smile is hidden, he can fully appreciate the aggression in the depths of those gray-green eyes.
And he is certain.
Whatever this being is, it is definitely not their ally.
“In the end, his self-destruction took far less time than it should have, so—…”
“Stop.”
The “Lady with the Folder” falls silent with surprising obedience. Her gaze locks onto Jung Heewon, who spoke up.
The “Judge of Apocalypse” looks at the stranger darkly, from beneath her brows. For some reason, the forced transfer here seems to have affected her more than the others.
“First of all, what the hell do you mean by self-destruction? Second, what’s with that ‘should have’ comment? And third—answer Sooyoung’s questions already. Who the fuck are you, and where are we?”
Off to the side, Han Sooyoung nods involuntarily, casting a respectful glance at the former bartender. Yoo Joonghyuk fully shares her sentiment.
The truth about what happened in the subway car beyond the Last Wall, and about who had truly been beside them all this time, struck Jung Heewon even harder than it did the children. Watching the woman grow darker with each passing day, distancing herself not so much from the others as from Lee Hyunsung—with whom she had already been in what was practically a full-fledged relationship at the time—the regressor couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the “Judge of Apocalypse” had felt toward Kim Dokja.
Was it merely gratitude for saving her life and the painful loyalty of a knight to her liege, or was there something far more personal hidden beneath it?
It was hard not to notice that at times Jung Heewon could anticipate Kim Dokja’s actions even better than Han Sooyoung or Shin Yoosung—who was, after all, an Incarnation of that mad Constellation. It was as if the woman possessed some abnormal connection to Kim Dokja, and Yoo Joonghyuk even recalled how, from time to time, she would unerringly sense the moments when the Reader was watching over her, using his attribute.
Within their group, everyone silently assumed that Jung Heewon might be the first to snap.
…and judging by the way the “Lady with the Folder” narrows her eyes, she thinks so too.
“Oh, well-placed questions—I love that. Properly asked questions are such a rarity~”
Her voice sounds almost mocking.
“Everything that is happening now is a distorted version of events that took place long, long ago. How best to put it… Imagine that somewhere there exists a reality in which everything you are experiencing and living through right now is already a thing of the past. In other words, there—in that reality, the true reality—everything has already happened. But something went wrong… and certain changes occurred in your universe.”
The folder is carefully set down on one of the coffee tables. The “Lady,” now without the folder, acts deliberately theatrically, like an actress on a stage.
“What should have taken hundreds—if not thousands, if not tens of thousands—of years took far less time. Everything developed too quickly, far too quickly. And the Oldest Dream, also known as Kim Dokja, who in the original reality destroyed himself in order to sustain the existence of the myriad worlds of the <Star Stream>, in your world… has already reached the brink.”
The gray-green eyes of the “Lady” stare intently, her gaze sliding over the frozen members of Kim Dokja’s Company.
“He sacrificed himself.”
Those words ring out in absolute silence.
“He split his own essence, just so the universe—in all its diversity, in all its vastness… could continue to live.”
Yoo Joonghyuk clenches his fist so tightly that his nails dig into his palm, tearing the skin.
“The one you so desperately want to bring back no longer exists.”
A sudden chill washes over the regressor.
…Kim Dokja is no longer—?..
A crash rips through the silence as effortlessly as a butcher’s knife through yielding flesh. The coffee table is sent flying as if it were made of cardboard when Jung Heewon knocks it aside and lunges forward, her face petrified and her eyes glassy. Her hand reaches for the “Lady’s” throat, and Yoo Joonghyuk jumps up as well, ready to help, when—
“Insolence is your defining trait.”
It feels like the pressure of a Status.
A sharply unleashed, fully revealed Status of a Constellation no lower than Myth grade.
And Jung Heewon drops to her knees, as if her kneecaps had been shattered with a single blow. The “Supreme King” staggers, but manages to take a few steps forward before he too buckles under the weight of the power. The others crumple where they sit, gasping for air—and this is very much not something any of them would ever want to experience again.
“B-bitch…” the “Judge of Apocalypse” rasps, staring at the “Lady” with bloodshot eyes.
“I can be, sometimes.”
The pressure vanishes just as suddenly as it descended upon them. Their lungs burn, and Yoo Joonghyuk gulps in air, blinking away involuntary tears.
…what the hell?
…she’s not a Constellation—this isn’t the machinations of the <Star Stream>—then how?!
“Be a good girl and go back to your seat. We’re only just beginning.”
Jung Heewon’s face twists.
“Go to hell—!” She tries to spring up for another attempt, but Lee Hyunsung rushes in, gently gripping the woman by the shoulders. Despite the brunette’s strangled growl, he manages to guide her back to the couch with surprising ease. The “Lady” watches this with her unchanging smile, then turns her gaze to Yoo Joonghyuk.
“Answering Miss Jung’s third question… my name is Pieta.”
The woman performs a curtsy, which looks as unreal as it does mocking.
“I am the God of Change.”
Lee Jihye lets out a strangled sound somewhere to the side. The others remain silent—either stunned, or filled with disbelief and skepticism. Acting on pure reflex, Yoo Joonghyuk tries to use the Lie Detector, but…
Nothing.
Nothing happens.
The “Supreme King” feels as though something has a firm grip on the back of his neck.
…Right.
…this really isn’t the <Star Stream>.
The lips of the “Lady”—no, Pieta—twisted into a smile, part slightly, and the former Incarnations freeze at the sight of her sharpened teeth.
“And I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not.”
The “God of Change” straightens, adjusts the chains on her sleeves. They chime with a rippling sound.
“So, returning to the original topic of our conversation… as I’ve already said, there were two factors behind your appearance here. I’ve already explained the first. Which brings us to the second.”
For the first time since she arrived, Pieta lets out a sigh.
“Some bastard decided to take advantage of the situation in your universe.”
The woman’s smile dims slightly, to Yoo Joonghyuk’s inner satisfaction—and his heightened wariness. Pieta’s darkened gaze only strengthens the sense of foreboding.
“That idiot… he’s a notorious headache among our ranks. Until now, I’d been blessed with never having to deal with him, but as they say, all good things come to an end. And frankly, I have no idea how the God of Balance puts up with him.”
Pieta turns toward the screens, snapping her fingers. The pristine white background on them begins to change slowly.
“We noticed what he’d done far too late. As a result, changing anything now is no longer possible.”
At first on one screen, and then on the others, the outlines of some room begin to appear—lavishly furnished, and Yoo Joonghyuk blinks, noting that the design doesn’t match the modern era.
“What…?”
Another sigh echoes through the room.
“The decision to bring you here was made by the overwhelming majority of the Gods who became aware of this… incident. Because if everything were left as it is, it would lead to horrifying consequences—first and foremost for your universe.”
They remain silent, staring in shock at the unfamiliar interior, which would have been a great luxury even before the Apocalypse. From the screens comes the quiet breathing of a person asleep in a massive canopy bed. Han Sooyoung blinks dumbly.
“And what does this have to do—huh?” She flinches when the door to the room on the screens opens soundlessly, letting an elderly man inside. However, she’s not the only one. Everyone in their group freezes, unerringly sensing something strange.
…they’re just screens, right? Nothing more.
…so why are they able to feel this odd sensation?
“Oh, that was my decision.”
Pieta smiles widely again, this time revealing her sharp teeth.
“Full immersion, so to speak. It will be useful for you to experience all of this yourselves, in order to understand everything properly.”
‘Understand what?’ Yoo Joonghyuk wants to ask, but at that very moment something strange happens to the screens.
They merge. Fuse into a single unimaginably vast plane that seems to swallow the entire wall opposite the couches—and now each of them is struck by a chilling sensation that the room is right there in front of them, literally. That all they would need to do is reach out a hand, and they could step through the screen and into it.
Lee Jihye quietly spits out a curse, while the children gasp in awe. Lee Hyunsung—the soldier with the essence of a golden Rottweiler—also looks impressed, while Yoo Sangah, Han Sooyoung, and Yoo Joonghyuk himself only tense up further.
A god, huh?..
That’s starting to sound not so absurd after all.
…The man could feel someone gently tapping his body…
The measured voice that rings out makes every member of Kim Dokja’s Company freeze like statues. Shin Yoosung clamps both hands over her mouth, staring at the enormous screen with trembling eyes.
“Th-that’s…” Lee Jihye swallows loudly, but cuts herself off when the silence is once again broken by a voice they know all too well:
…The rough hand made the man think of the hands of an exhausted parent. It was that warm.
“Young master, it is morning.”
But the voice was very profound. The man felt chills throughout his body and his eyes subconsciously opened. Rather than the bright sunlight coming in through the window to warm the man’s eyes, what he saw was an old man standing there with a satisfied expression.
“It is surprising to see you wake up after a single attempt.”
“Huh?”…
Yoo Joonghyuk bites his lip, trying to see the face of the person lying in the bed, wrapped up to the chin—but the old man, damn that old man, is in the way. The regressor can only wait patiently for him to step aside, to make sure…
…“The master wishes to dine with the young master since it has been a while. It looks like it will be possible today.”
The man could see a mirror past the old man’s shoulder. Inside the mirror was a red-haired man who seemed to be confused looking back at him…
“As I said before, one bastard from among our ranks decided to break the rules and pull off a rather large-scale scheme behind our backs. As a result… you are seeing what you are seeing.”
For the first time, Pieta’s voice almost sounds… understanding. Or perhaps they are so stunned that they can no longer react to anything else.
…‘I guess that guy is me.’…
“That’s right.”
Yoo Joonghyuk swallows, tasting blood at the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t need to look around to know the expressions on his companions’ faces—identical to his own.
What he feels defies description. It is a hellish mixture of shock, joy, pain, grief, and a stirring, restless hope.
“The one you are looking at right now — is Kim Dokja.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
From the author:
LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!
Now, seriously.
Welcome to the pages of my unhinged new project, which is a reaction fic of the KimCom group to the new existence of their “Dokja” — in a world they cannot reach no matter how hard they try.
I want to warn you right away that at this point I haven’t finished either ORV (for the sake of preserving what remains of my sanity) or TCF (since I was waiting all this time for the translation), so some situations from KimCom’s side are taken from the massive spoilers that TikTok provides in abundance, like a cornucopia. If there are inconsistencies — my apologies, but this AU is built on that.
I am one hundred percent sure there will be OOC moments for pretty much everyone possible and impossible, so I apologize for that as well.
Not all chapters from TCF will be used. In other words, I won’t be following the original story step by step, but will instead focus on specific events, such as Cale’s transmigration itself, his meeting with Choi Han, obtaining the Indestructible Shield, and so on.
The expected update frequency is once every month or month and a half.
I’d be happy to hear your thoughts in the comments about the first chapter, a.k.a. the prologue, as well as about the concept as a whole.
P.S.: If it seems to you that Pieta “kind of dislikes” KimCom… you’re not imagining it~