FLIA 16

Wasn’t the first subway barely enough to fill half the tunnel? But now, it looked like it filled nearly two-thirds. He couldn’t tell when it had gotten so big.

Paaaang!

The sound of it barreling toward them was deafening.

Lee Hyunmook, who had been staring sharply at the subway, gauged the distance between the wall and the subway, then leapt. Yohan’s arms, wrapped tightly around Lee Hyunmook’s neck, tensed.

Lee Hyunmook climbed using the grooves in the wall and hung from the ceiling. The subway roared past beneath their backs, bringing with it a fierce gust of wind. Yohan’s heart thundered in his chest. Judging by the subway’s size, if they hadn’t clung to the ceiling, they’d have been hit for sure.

Without descending, Lee Hyunmook began to move. How many minutes had passed like that when once again, brilliant headlights came barreling toward them. But this time, the subway was on the ceiling.

A strangled scream escaped Yohan’s throat as he witnessed the surreal sight.

The subway, it was running on the ceiling. Even the station agent visible through the front window was driving upside down.

Lee Hyunmook silently and swiftly dropped down. He flipped Yohan onto his side and pressed them both flat against the ground. Only after the subway passed did Yohan realize that Lee Hyunmook had been careful to keep Yohan’s backpack from touching the floor.

‘That’s not a subway…’

He’d known it, but the realization still hit like a shock.

Only then did Yohan understand how unnaturally captivated he’d been by that thing. In a world like this, there was no such thing as a normal subway or regular passengers.

At the same time, he realized that this “subway” had been groping through the tunnel, searching for him and Lee Hyunmook. Tears and screams threatened again, but Yohan desperately held back so he wouldn’t burden Lee Hyunmook.

The subway no longer grew in size, but perhaps because it hadn’t yet found them, it grew more violent and savage. It was like a beast, enraged and agitated.

Lee Hyunmook continued moving, maintaining his pace with great care to avoid the subway.

And then, a chilling sensation surged through Yohan’s spine. A creeping dread made him shudder. He turned his head slowly, creaking, to look behind him. At the same time, Lee Hyunmook clicked his tongue and gave permission.

“We’ve been spotted. You can make noise now.”

It wasn’t “It’s okay”, it was “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Everything up to this point had just been to avoid detection. Lee Hyunmook broke into a run. His catlike footsteps thudded loudly now. He no longer dodged the oncoming subway.

He sprinted directly toward the front of the speeding subway. Yohan screamed despite himself.

Just as it looked like they’d collide, Lee Hyunmook leapt high into the air.

Boom!

Yohan couldn’t tell what had happened. A monstrous roar echoed, followed by an inhuman screech.

Kaaaak!

Only when the ghastly cry reverberated through the long tunnel did Yohan realize, it had never been a subway. It was something else mimicking a subway to induce hallucinations.

The moment of realization hit, and the strange headlights of the subway abruptly went dark, plunging them into shadow.

Yes. From the beginning, Yohan hadn’t been in light, just darkness. That was why, despite their intensity, the headlights had never really illuminated anything.

“Hhhhhh….”

Where the headlights had been, grotesque, massive red eyes now glowed faintly.

Yohan nearly passed out from the sight but clung to consciousness.

The monster, after being soundly struck by Lee Hyunmook, hesitated. So did Lee Hyunmook.

But that wasn’t the real problem.

Yohan was trembling now, the goosebumps on his skin becoming unbearable. Did Lee Hyunmook not sense it?

“M-Mr. Hyunmook. Behind us, the flood…”

“I know. Don’t turn around.”

Shhhh….

From the far end of the tunnel, the flood was rolling toward them.

And in front of them stood the massive monster.

Though Yohan held his ground, not daring to turn as instructed, his mouth went dry.

Lee Hyunmook and the monster stood still. Then, the monster moved first. To Yohan’s shock, it didn’t attack Lee Hyunmook. It turned away.

“…Yeah. Something that size’s probably survived a long time. The flood must scare it most.”

Watching it lumber away with a rumble, Lee Hyunmook muttered in a flat tone.

He began running again, keeping a safe distance from the monster.

Yohan didn’t need to look, he knew the flood was right behind them now.

Light began to seep into the tunnel.

Not a bright, brilliant light, but the murky, dark crimson glow unique to the abyss.

Even that was a welcome sight.

Just a little farther and they’d be out. Free from the flood.

But as they neared the exit, the monster blocked the entrance. Crushing despair descended upon Yohan.

The flood was right behind them.

Lapping, creeping, ominous and silent, disaster crept forward.

“No, no, no….”

As Yohan whispered in a terror he’d never known before, Lee Hyunmook spoke.

“I’ll try to… get hurt as much as I can.”

Even though he heard it clearly, Yohan didn’t understand right away.

“When I can’t… move anymore, run. Just… run.”

Incongruously, a strange chuckle echoed through the air.

Then Lee Hyunmook whispered in a cold voice,

“…Die.”

And the dark crimson light exploded.

A wind howled around them, then a violent blow struck Yohan’s side.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he was flung against something and tumbled across the ground. His arm throbbed in agony as he gasped and dragged himself across the floor.

A thunderous boom shook the earth.

Only then did Yohan realize, they had exited the tunnel.

KA-BOOM!

He managed to lift his head. And saw, silhouetted against the blood-red sky, a massive serpent-like monster twisting and writhing.

Its grotesque, sticky flesh was covered in gaping mouths.

Those-Those were what Yohan had mistaken for subway doors.

With each opening of its mouth, something writhed inside, and streams of dark red soil poured out.

It was a monster that ate dirt to tunnel, then followed the paths it made to devour hallucination-dazed victims.

That was the true form of the subway Yohan had been watching.

And now, Lee Hyunmook was fighting it.

KA-BOOM!

Not just thunderous, it was actual lightning.

Tossed far away, Yohan watched and finally recalled Lee Hyunmook’s nickname.

Lightning God. Thunder Emperor.

He had only ever thrown punches and kicks since falling into the abyss, but originally, he had wielded weapons and thunder.

Yet his lightning was no longer bright.

It was shadowed, black lightning. It struck the monster not to harm, but to enrage.

When Lee Hyunmook tore the monster’s shell, it ripped his limbs in return. He crushed and shredded it again.

Despite the overwhelming size difference, the man once considered South Korea’s strongest awakener fought the monster on equal footing.

Black lightning flashed over Yohan’s wide eyes.

“M-Mr. Hyunmook…”

Even from this distance, Yohan could tell.

Hyunmook wasn’t in his right mind. He was a madman, more deranged than Yohan had ever seen. And growing madder by the second. Yohan forgot the pain in his arm.

Had Lee Hyunmook… been touched by the flood earlier?

Yohan glanced back. The flood was rising near the entrance but hadn’t spilled out. It was receding like the tide.

No.

Lee Hyunmook hadn’t been directly touched.

But the monsters always went berserk when the flood approached.

Which meant Lee Hyunmook, heavily corrupted as he was, must be under its influence too. And he was barely enduring it, for Yohan’s sake.

“I-I have to run….”

Yohan whispered Lee Hyunmook’s words.

Then the sky split.

A lightning bolt, jagged like tree branches, struck the monster’s head.

KRAKAKOOM! KA-BOOM!

Each flash of black light revealed Lee Hyunmook’s form on top of the towering beast, laughing maniacally.

He looked like a god of death.

But when the lightning died, the stalemate ended.

Lee Hyunmook, caught in the monster’s gaping side-mouth, was thrown to the ground.

The creature’s mouths shrieked. Blood spilled from Lee Hyunmook’s upper body, caught in its jaws.

THUD!

The ground quaked like an earthquake.

Dust rose, Yohan covered his nose and mouth, coughing.

“Cough,…M-Mr. Hyunmook…!”

Only after the dust partially settled could Yohan see.

The monster no longer moved.

But Lee Hyunmook, though coughing violently, was still stirring.

Yohan, trembling, couldn’t move.

He remembered how Lee Hyunmook had once lunged at him like he’d eat him alive. And now, he was worse. But he also remembered something else.

Lee Hyunmook saying he didn’t want to become something even more terrible.

Saying he’d try to get hurt as much as possible, so Yohan could run when he couldn’t move anymore.

Yet Yohan didn’t run.

Clutching his injured arm, he stumbled toward Hyunmook.

Tears streamed down his face.

“I-I don’t want to be alone.”

He even threw away his beloved backpack. Without wiping his endless tears, he walked toward the horrific scene. And behind Yohan, who was crying and mumbling, a faint glow that he himself was not aware of shimmered faintly.

“Mr. Hyunmook… You don’t want to be alone either, right?”

Living with Lee Hyunmook, Yohan had come to see the emotions clearly in his eyes.

Profound loneliness.

Desperate yearning for human connection, whether mad or sane, it had always been there.