FLIA 58

“Sparrow…”

At the soft mumble, the hazy focus in Yoon Seungryong’s eyes, dimmed by memory, slowly returned. His gaze drifted to Yang Yohan, sound asleep beside Lee Hyunmook inside the tree. Yohan mumbled something unintelligible and then let out a slow, peaceful breath.

Seungryong and Ju Hoyoung stretched their necks, peering into the hollow of the ancient tree. Just as Yohan had visibly relaxed upon seeing them, they, too, seemed to let their guard down only after confirming he’d returned safe and sound.

None of the three had any expression on their face. They didn’t even blink. They simply leaned slightly forward, unconsciously drawn to the gentle warmth of purification radiating from Yohan. The way they stared was so blatant that any high-level awakener should’ve woken up from it. But Yohan, naturally dull and mentally exhausted from the last few days, simply murmured in his dreams, blissfully unaware.

They watched something undeniably human. A chest rising with a deep sigh, a hand scratching a cheek, a furrowed brow followed by a soft mutter in sleep, each one a tender display of humanity. They gazed at him as if marveling at a rare animal. Perhaps it was because they themselves were no longer quite human.

Only after meeting Yohan could they finally sleep again, if only briefly. They could go without blinking for hours, without breathing, without eating. After dissolving into the Flood and painstakingly reassembling their flesh, they had never quite returned to normal. These were all things they kept hidden from Yohan. Because he still saw them as people.

Seungryong edged closer to the entrance of the tree and glanced sideways at Lee Hyunmook. He didn’t seem in a good mood, probably still replaying the moment Yohan vanished into the mountain. Yet, compared to the nightmare of that actual moment, Hyunmook now felt far less terrifying, maybe because Yohan was beside him.

Seungryong also recalled the events from a few days ago, reflecting deeply, trying to prevent the same thing from happening again. They were desperate, so desperate. After long deliberation, Seungryong muttered flatly,

“Maybe it’s best not to go near the Black Mountain anymore.”

“No. It’s still safer than the Flood. We didn’t die, after all.”

Hyunmook replied calmly. Seungryong looked again at Yohan, who had just shifted in his sleep and rolled onto his side. Hyunmook reached over and gently pulled the fallen sleeping bag back over him. Watching the motion, Seungryong gave a twisted grin.

“This feeling fucking sucks.”

“Same.”

Hoyoung, in the middle of a game, suddenly bit off one of his own fingernails as he answered.

“I knew this place was shit, but this time it was truly awful.”

“I’d rather go back into the Flood,” Seungryong muttered. He could endure physical pain a hundred times over without issue now. But mental anguish… no matter how much time passed, it never got easier.

What if Yohan had died? What if they’d lost him forever? After finally starting to live like human beings again, would they be dragged back into that endless pit of suffering? The very thought was unbearable. Dying on the spot would’ve been better. Without Yohan, they’d be nothing more than worms crawling through filth once again.

No one could have predicted that part of the Black Mountain would suddenly erupt from what appeared to be stable ground. But that didn’t absolve them of the fact that they’d let go of Yohan in a single moment.

“Next time, I’m seriously sticking right next to him…”

“Same. I’m sprinting the second anything feels off.”

While Seungryong and Hoyoung were shuddering at the thought, Hyunmook remained unmoved. His empty gaze stared into space, and a heavy silence stretched between them. The shadows cast within the ancient tree were darker, heavier, more oppressive than usual. The bits of light Yohan leaked in his sleep were swallowed silently by a bottomless void.

As Hyunmook’s silence dragged on, Seungryong and Hoyoung grew visibly tense and shut their mouths. Though Hyunmook had said nothing, both instinctively lowered their eyes. Fear flickered in their gazes as they snuck glances at him. When Hoyoung nudged Seungryong with an elbow, he swallowed hard and then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Hyunmook.

“Team Leader, I’m sorry. I should’ve protected Yohan, but I didn’t…”

As Hyunmook’s vacant eyes finally shifted to him, Seungryong’s body flinched. Hyunmook’s hand lifted, then gently fell onto Seungryong’s head with a soft thud. But it hit Seungryong like his heart had dropped to the floor.

“Seungryong-ah.”

“Y-yeah…?”

“Have I ever scolded you for failing something that was beyond your ability?”

Seungryong bit his lip bitterly at the phrase “beyond your ability,” but kept his head low and shook it.

“No… you haven’t. But still, if I’d kept a better eye on him, Yohan wouldn’t have been taken alone…”

“Hmm… maybe. That’s possible.”

Hyunmook agreed mildly and patted his head again. Each time he did, Seungryong flinched like he wanted to bolt. There was no actual threat, but his face had gone pale as ash.

“What’s wrong is still wrong. You need to take responsibility.”

“Yeah. Then I should. I’ll take the punishment.”

Startled by the exchange, Hoyoung held his breath, but instead of intervening or defending Seungryong, he stepped back.

“Fine. Punishment. I’ll take whatever it is.”

When Seungryong responded with surprising courage, Hyunmook smiled. He called his name and gripped his shoulders tightly. Forcing eye contact as Seungryong tried to avert his gaze, he said:

“I’m never going to kill you.”

Seungryong leapt up as if stung. His face twisted with frustration, he’d just been robbed of the promise Hyunmook once made to kill him if the worst came to pass. Hoyoung exhaled in relief and returned to his spot like nothing had happened.

“Team–no, Hyung… seriously, what the hell?”

“I’m not letting you die either.”

Deflated by this so-called punishment, Seungryong clutched his head and groaned.

“Just hit me instead! Beat me half to death! Go ahead and kill me in a rage!”

“Shh. Quiet. You’ll wake Yohan.”

“No, come on! Anything but this!”

Hyunmook’s fist slammed lightly into his head, and Seungryong collapsed to the ground with a silent scream. Watching the scene while resuming his game, Hoyoung clicked his tongue in disapproval. A moment later, Seungryong, completely defeated, slumped down beside the fire.

“Let’s talk about the Flood.”

At Hyunmook’s words, a heavy sigh followed. Even for those who had lived in the Abyss for so long, the Flood was a terrifying and overwhelming phenomenon. Hoyoung even set down his game console and wore a solemn expression. He let out a sigh and said,

“Yohan seems like he wants to settle down, but the Flood happens too unpredictably for that.”

“This isn’t even a matter of settling down. It’s survival. Just being near the Flood is dangerous. If even one of us breaks, it’s fatal.”

Seungryong, tapping his foot anxiously, flopped back onto the ground with a shaky exhale.

“Damn it… I guess we really do need to bring that old man back…”

“Yohan said the sky looked brighter. Do you think he was just imagining it?”

At Hoyoung’s words, Seungryong lazily turned his gaze upward. The sky was still the same, swirling with that same unpleasant, oppressive hue that never changed between day and night.

“Hard to say. Looks the same to me.”

“But it does feel like the ‘density’ of something has lessened.”

“…Yeah. That’s definitely true…”

Seungryong trailed off and looked to Hyunmook, who gave a slow nod. Yohan had been right. They hadn’t noticed it much at first, but after the Flood in the Japan zone, more precisely, after escaping the Black Mountain, it became clear. That heavy pressure, like gravity… that sticky humidity of madness, it had thinned. Hyunmook finally voiced the theory he’d been pondering.

“I don’t think the Flood can be summoned indefinitely. It has to consume some kind of energy. If it were an infinite phenomenon… we would’ve been ‘digested’ a long time ago.”

“Hah… Then if we keep holding out like this, maybe there really is an end to it.”

Seungryong grinned faintly. But his smile quickly vanished at Hyunmook’s next words.

“Yeah. And that means it’s going to get even more vicious from now on. It seems just as desperate as we are…”