Chapter Text
He’s racing against the clock to save his soulmate.
Again.
It was the third time this month.
He stared at his ‘leave balance’ with the distant realisation that it was going to run out eventually. Daydream was generous with leaves, they had other sacrificial lambs, but not this generous. He couldn’t keep taking leaves every other week citing: “personal reasons”.
They would notice, if they hadn’t already.
It wasn’t his fault that his soulmate had a chronic addiction to put himself in danger.
It really wasn’t his fault that those situations involved civilians he couldn’t help but want to save.
And it definitely wasn’t his fault that he.. Didn’t want his soulmate to get hurt.
Maybe if it were any other stranger, he wouldn’t go this far—
Click.
There was smoke, screaming, frantic footsteps and arguably the worst thing here. His soulmate, surging forward despite the risk he might die.
Soleum was moving the moment the link ended. Yeah, it was stupid. But.. But—
He ran without hesitation.
All the way to a burning building.
Slam
The door swung open.
His soulmate. He was there—he was safe.
“You’re here once again, my mysterious savior~”
Holding the higher quality Braun plushie in his hand, he inspected it carefully. The seams, the stitching, not a single tear. He read the instruction manual one more time, he had followed it perfectly.
Soleum hadn’t done anything wrong—so what did he just experience?
He flipped through the records of people using the bloodbath in his mind. None of them had written anything about seeing visions.
So why—
Click
He wasn’t in his dorm anymore.
He was seeing something in the eyes of someone else—a disaster management bureau agent he assumed. He was talking to another agent called Jaekwan.
He could see, hear and feel everything.
Worse, he couldn’t move, couldn’t talk or do anything.
The realisation that he was completely helpless in a situation like this sent waves of panic through him. He’d been caught in something he didn’t want to do, once again.
Just as abruptly as the vision started, it ended.
Thankfully, he was back in his room, unharmed. However, there was still a glaring question in his mind: Did he get caught in a ghost story?
“..Braun, do you know what just happened to me?”
— Of course I do, friend! Your connection opened. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already!
Connection? What connection? Was he contaminated?
“What’s a ‘connection’?” he asked carefully, all he wanted to do was go to bed and now, he had to deal with this—another supernatural event!
— Hmm, I would love to tell you, friend! But I think this is something you should figure out yourself!
...
Alright you pink plush. Right after I got you a gift too.
If Braun could hear his thoughts at that moment, he didn’t comment on it.
As annoyed as Soleum was, he’d rather not anger an entity that could incinerate him in a snap. He’d just have to ask Section Chief Lizard tomorrow.
“Section chief, do you know what a connection is?”
“Yes”
Soleum paused, waiting for a response. Oh wait, he was talking to a lizard. Right.
“...Could you elaborate?”
“The definition is a relationship in which a person or thing is linked or associated with something else”
…
He’d partly expected this. Still..
He held back a long sigh.
“I mean, a vision,” he clarified. “LIke a random one in someone else’s perspective”
“That is a link between you and your soulmate.”
“M-My soulmate..??”
“ ? Yes.”
At that moment, he remembered a small scandal that happened in the DER community a few years back.
DER entries featuring OCs weren’t uncommon—especially with new readers that hadn’t had any clue how the wiki worked.
A new author had written a soulmate AU between her two OCs in an entry. And as shocking as it was, it was approved by a mod! Twitter caught wind of it and most readers were stunned. The backlash was immediate.
Later, the wiki had an announcement to tell everyone that a mod had accidentally approved it and it would be permanently archived. After everything was resolved, it became more of a joke within the fandom where it was mentioned in several entries.
Now, he found out that it really was canon?
What a nightmare. Now he had to worry about soulmates on top of darknesses?
He quickly excused himself to check his popsocket and read the archived entry again. Haaa… why did a mod ever have to approve that entry?
As far as Choi knew, he didn’t have a soulmate.
If he did, they were dead. His soulmate had never opened a link to him, ever. Not as a child, a teen, or an adult.
Links happened at random, or when they were in danger. It wasn’t controllable, unfortunately.
Everyone with a soulmate would experience these once a week on average, and uncommonly for some, once a month.
If your soulmate existed, the link would definitely open at some point.
However, that moment never came for Choi. He still remembered the days in his childhood when he left his information pasted where people said soulmates saw.
Nothing ever came of it.
Eventually, he stopped trying. He accepted that his soulmate just didn’t exist.
Not having a soulmate was rare, but not impossible. He’d rather believe that over the latter, of course. Either way, it never affected his work, so it was fine. It was just a few uncomfortable conversations when the topic came out.
Honestly, it was for the best.
His job was dangerous, he’d imagine how annoying it’d be for his soulmate to see him constantly get hurt. Plus, disasters were notoriously difficult for the bureau to hide from soulmates.
Trying to hide the existence of disasters from civilians who physically couldn’t stop themselves from seeing it was..
An entire team was dedicated just for soulmate damage control.
It was bad, like really bad.
Choi told himself it was good he didn’t have one.
However, he couldn’t stop a dull ache in his heart every time he thought of soulmates. The thought of being unloveable was—
—It didn’t matter anymore, he had Jaekwan and the bureau.
It was for the best.
It had been 1 week since the first connection opened.
He had researched every part of it during his free time, with Braun as his unwanted commentator.
He even had a reference from the original entry it stemmed from, with information this world hadn’t figured out yet.
And there was a good reason for that too. It was an ability. The conditions to activate that weird ability was ultra-specific. Your soulmate had to be facing a dangerous situation, thinking of you to save them and.. Never mind, it was too much to elaborate.
Skipping all the formalities, basically you would arrive at their location.
Even thinking about it made Soleum truly wonder who would actually do this.
It was so cringey.
The original work was amateurish at best, and now reality was affected by it. The inconsistencies of this story was something to behold.
There was something consistent in this story, however.
The links. They opened every single time his soulmate was even in a little danger.
His soulmate, who he now knew was Agent Choi, threw himself into danger every single day.
Some days, he’d be fighting ghosts, seeing un-cooperative, very annoying civilians. However, on other days, Choi would just be cracking tired jokes with Jaekwan.
Those moments felt strangely vulnerable. Something he shouldn’t exactly have been seeing.
It was thrilling.
Taking a look into his favorite named character’s life? Who would say no? Seeing these small everyday things Choi did firsthand was different than reading. It felt like a real connection.
The bureau’s conditions were brutal. Agents, specifically in Hyunmoo teams, had to be on emergency call 24/7. All for meager pay and subpar benefits.
Even Daydream had better worker-care than this!
The only upside was that he knew Choi would be fine. Choi would always survive—unill.. Looky Mart—but that was still months away.
Still, every vision left him more nervous than the last.
Weeks passed—then a month.
LInks opened sporadically, just him watching Choi live his life once in a while. He learnt to live with it—everyone faced these, they understood when he suddenly stopped responding.
He’d describe interesting things Choi faced to Braun, all while wondering if Choi had the same experience he did with links.
Soleum got into dangerous situations less than Choi, obviously, but still frequently. He wasn’t even sure if the bureau had the technology to stop links from opening in darknesses like Daydream.
Well, if the bureau didn’t.. He wouldn’t know. What a lackluster response, he knows. But there wasn’t any way for Choi to tell him anyway—or for him to contact Choi in return.
Choi had made no move to leave any of his information anywhere—made sense for a bureau agent. Soleum did the same, he’d rather not have someone from a workplace who hated Daydream to find out he was a Daydream employee..
As much as he’d like to meet his soulmate, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what someone like Choi would do when they did.
A bureau agent like Choi who would periodically know his location?
Nightmare fuel. He’d rather not be captured and interrogated—
“Roe, something on your mind?” Eun Haje asked in concern. She had noticed Soleum had been seriously out of it ever since he sat down at the cafe.
“I’m fine..” the sentence trailed off.
Click
All his senses were replaced by Choi’s once again.
The timing though, seriously!
The cafe faded into a dark forest.
His vision was narrowed, with no danger in sight. Trees were littered with golden fruits—
—Golden fruits?
Soleum’s stomach churned.
There was only one darkness that fit that criteria perfectly.
[Mimic Lair]
:A ghost story featured in < Disaster Management Bureau >
:Supernatural Disaster . identification code – SwoNk-C-491
A safe darkness. Low-risk enough for daydream not to send people in for dream essence.
However, deaths were slow and painful if you were caught by a mimic. Out of the many trees in the forest, only one was real. Anyone who touched a mimic would get trapped and would take on a new form.
Safe as it was, there was a glaring problem.
Agent Choi was never supposed to enter.
Yet here he was, walking in this damned forest, carefully moving through the trees—Was this the butterfly effect?
Still, he had the equipment to leave, so it should be fine.
His unease grew as Agent Choi took step after step further into the forest.
He could see how this story ended. It wouldn’t be pretty.
Only one civilian record? Anyone would fall for the traps, especially Choi.
A civilian stood beside a tree, hands trembling, about to touch the wrong tree. An obvious mimic.
He wouldn’t touch it. Right..?
Concern prickled at his skin the closer Agent Choi got to the mimic.
'No,' Soleum thought desperately, 'Please. You can’t save him.'
'Stop, don’t touch the tree.'
He could hear Choi’s firm voice ring out in the link.
He was talking to the mimic.
Step, step, step.
“D-do you know the way out..?” the mimic asked, shaking and looking at him with teary eyes.
Please don’t fall for it.
Step, step, step.
Choi reached the mimic, holding up his Jadku, focused on the civilian entirely.
Soleum could feel the resolve bubbling up in the link.
His worries—
They came true.
The mimic lunged.
Click.
The world faded to black.
…shit.
“Roe? Roe..?”
Eun Haje faded back into view. She was leaning towards him to check his pulse when he woke up. Her face was riddled with concern, but he had no time for that.
“I–” he took a deep breath to calm himself, “I’m sorry assistant manager. I have to go,”
“Wait, Roe–”
He didn’t remember hailing the taxi. Only the anxious staring out the window.
The bureau would save Choi. The mimic would slowly suck out the victim’s life force—he would be fine for 8 hours.
But—But.. There were no known solo escapes after getting caught. Even after 54 records.
This would be a one time thing.
That’s what he told himself, but he’d never been the most truthful, had he?
“You’ve arrived, please pay the $15—”
Soleum dashed out of the car. The only thing on his mind was saving him. His soulmate.
He ran to the spot where the entry point of the disaster was.
Whoosh
He was in.
The smell of burning wood. The voices echoing in the forest. Obnoxiously bright fruits in the grave forest. This was it.
Choi had gone left, Soleum followed suit.
He could leave, turn back and run out. It wasn’t his responsibility to save an agent—especially as a Daydream employee, but his legs kept moving.
Step, step, step.
Soleum continued running. Was this his best idea? Definitely not.
He spotted it.
The mimic.
In the shape of the person it was devouring—Choi.
…
“You’re not him.”
Soleum knew how to kill those mimics. Erasing their illusion.
It stopped moving. Slowly, it turned. The small action sent shivers down his spine.
Heheheehhehehehowdidyouknowhowdidyouknow
How did you know?
How did you know.
It left Choi’s body, showing its true form.
The black matter slithered towards him on the ground.
Join us. Join ireum-nim.
He dodged. Its attack patterns were quite simple—all you had to do was read an ungodly amount of entries.
Hm. Fine. Then die.
Soleum sprinted towards the agent. Searching frantically though Choi’s pockets, he found the place where he put his glass gun—he unceremoniously took it out. Lifting the gun, aimed and shot.
Bang!
The recoil was too much to handle in his trembling hands.
He fired again anyway. However, it continued moving towards him.
Bang!
He missed.
The thing got closer to him.
Bang! Bang!
…
It was dead—he checked once and slowly moved away. The black mass wasn’t his only problem today. He still had the reason he came in for, to deal with.
He walked towards Choi and stood above his passed out body.
Choi had no injuries, just looked a little gaunt—steady breathing too. This was the textbook definition of ‘okay’.
Only then did his knees give out. All this trouble for someone who couldn’t even thank him.
He placed the glass gun into his tattoo. Hey, agents could get a replacement whenever, but he couldn’t! He’d just take this as his thank you.
Choi seemed awfully rested for someone who had almost died in a mimic.
He would probably be drained for the next few days though—getting your lifeforce taken was no joke. With a tiny sigh, he hauled Choi onto his shoulder and brought him to the exit of the disaster.
The original civilian was definitely long dead, but at least the bureau wouldn’t have another victim.