The Price of “It’s Fine”

‘It’s nothing. It’s just a hallucination, so don’t worry.’

–That’s not “nothing” at all.

I answered while carefully examining the hallucination.

It sounded like Won-gyeong was saying something worried to me, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to respond.

I wanted to investigate it in detail before the hallucination disappeared.

I gave them vague replies and focused on the illusion.

The woman who looked exactly like me resembled a monster that had crawled out of a nightmare.

Unlike my current body, which was clean and uninjured, that body was clearly torn and mangled in places, as if it had been ripped apart and gnawed on.

Normally, even severe wounds left no scars thanks to the system’s abilities.

This was strange.

‘Could this be… what I look like when the system isn’t in use?’

I examined the hallucination closely, unsure whether it depicted the past or the future.

Aside from the shorter hair and the wounds, there weren’t many differences, making it hard to determine the point in time.

Covered head to toe in blood she had shed herself, she wore neither pain nor sorrow on her face.

Only a thoroughly blank expression.

She looked like a perfectly crafted doll. It sent a chill down my spine.

I don’t know this version of myself.

Just as discomfort began to bloom in my chest, the hallucination moved.

It slowly raised its hand and poked my forehead with a blood-crusted index finger.

To be precise, I didn’t actually feel the poke.

With the finger resting against my forehead, I spoke.

‘Not yet.’

It wasn’t a sound heard through the ears.

It was a strange voice, as if something were being engraved directly into my mind.

‘This isn’t something I’m meant to see yet.’

I murmured again.

Then, starting from the index finger touching my forehead, the hallucination began to crumble.

I stared blankly as it scattered like ashes, and then—

“What was it… that I just saw…?”

I groaned, clutching my throbbing forehead.

I felt like I’d just seen some kind of hallucination. I was fairly sure it had been me. But I couldn’t be certain.

It felt like a chunk of my memory had been cut away.

Forgetting something I had just seen was impossible, so there was a high chance my ability had activated unconsciously.

While I was holding my head and trying to make sense of what I’d seen, Won-gyeong and Noeul returned from checking on the child.

Ju Noeul looked confused, while Won-gyeong’s expression was grimly set.

Ah.

Right.

I remembered that I’d been sharing vision with Won-gyeong, and that he’d seen something along with me.

I approached Won-gyeong, whose expression was tense.

“Won-gyeong, do you remember what we just saw?

The hallucination disappeared, and then it vanished from my memory too.”

“…You don’t remember it?”

“Yeah. I think I might’ve used my ability unconsciously, but I’m not sure.”

At my words, Won-gyeong lowered his gaze. He looked like he was thinking deeply.

“You haven’t answered anything this whole time. What did you even see to be like this?”

Ju Noeul snapped irritably, but Won-gyeong remained lost in his thoughts.

Ju Noeul and I exchanged glances and tilted our heads at Won-gyeong’s silence.

He was the only one who could answer, and since he wouldn’t, the frustration only built.

I lightly tapped Won-gyeong’s arm and asked again.

“What did you see? I remember it was me, at least…”

“…Just you.”

“Wasn’t there anything distinctive?”

“Nothing. There really wasn’t.”

Won-gyeong replied with a relaxed expression, as if snapping back to himself.

The firmness of his tone made it clear he was deliberately withholding something.

But with him denying it so resolutely, it didn’t feel like prying would get me anywhere.

“All this bullshit just because you saw some stupid hallucination?”

Ju Noeul snapped, his face full of irritation and confusion about what had happened on the way here.

Won-gyeong stiffened and met Ju Noeul’s gaze before replying coldly.

“I was just surprised by a hallucination. We should stop this conversation here.”

That only made me more curious, but I had no choice except to nod.

“Fine. Let’s drop it for now.

We need to figure out why that kid is asleep because of Jeong Iheon’s ability.”

Ju Noeul clearly didn’t like the sudden change of topic, but he roughly raked a hand through his hair and jerked his chin toward the table.

“Sit down first and talk.”

I had been standing there blankly ever since examining the hallucination.

Only then did we move to the table.

Once we all sat down, Ju Noeul tapped the floor with his foot and began.

“When we woke up, that kid should’ve woken up too.

We all entered the fracture together, and entering it acted as the trigger for returning to reality.”

It was a reasonable conclusion.

Since the child had opened the fracture, he was likely the first to enter it, and therefore the first to wake up in reality.

What was strange, though, was why the child wasn’t with us, unlike the rest of us who had been placed in separate rooms on the same floor.

As I followed that line of thought, I suddenly noticed something odd.

A fundamental problem I hadn’t considered until now.

I hurriedly spoke before the thought slipped away.

“Wait. Does anyone here actually know that kid’s name?”

“His name?”

“If it’s his name, then maybe…”

Ju Noeul and Won-gyeong both parted their lips as if trying to recall it, but no answer followed.

Only then did we realize that none of us knew the child’s name, or had even wondered about it.

Nowhere—neither in the room where he was confined nor anywhere else—was his name written.

‘It’s like something wants us not to know his name.’

We all lifted our heads at the same time and looked at one another.

The condition we’d heard on the first day we woke up—“to enact the apocalypse.”

We’d only ever understood that condition in two ways.

‘But what if this thought we just had is part of that condition?’

Won-gyeong spoke carefully.

“Could this be another condition of the apocalypse simulation?”

“If Jeong Iheon and Hyeon Jaeyul don’t know the kid’s name either, then yeah.

There’s no way all of us wouldn’t even be curious about it otherwise.”

Ju Noeul replied, pressing hard between his brows.

I nodded, agreeing with Won-gyeong.

“The kid didn’t know his own name either.

And if Jeong Iheon used his ability on him right after he woke up, when he couldn’t remember anything… then it’s possible the kid is trapped in the apocalypse simulation alone.”

Both of them went quiet at my hypothesis.

Because of the limits of my ability, it was decided that five people would participate in the apocalypse simulation.

Everyone believed that to be true, excluding the day my memories hadn’t returned.

Or so we thought.

Jeong Iheon’s ability had introduced an irregularity.

‘Maybe that kid is also a simulation member.’

And in the worst-case scenario, Jeong Iheon might have sent the only child who hadn’t violated the conditions into the simulation alone.

I didn’t want to believe he’d done something so heartless, but…

“We need to go ask him directly.”

“And do you think he’ll answer honestly?”

Ju Noeul and Won-gyeong spoke while I mulled it over.

Thinking about Jeong Iheon’s occasional evasiveness, it felt unlikely he’d give us a straight answer.

As if sharing the same thought, they both just tapped the table or pressed at their brows irritably.

“Hey.
Doesn’t Jeong Iheon kind of like you?”

“Me?”

Ju Noeul suddenly addressed me.

Caught off guard, I pointed at myself without hiding my confusion.

He nodded once and said,

“Maybe if you stay close, you can figure out what he’s hiding.”

So he wanted me to play spy?

“You’re telling me to spy on him?”

I let out a dry laugh.

Jeong Iheon wasn’t the type to reveal his secrets just because of familiarity.

If anything, he was the quickest to notice what I tried to hide.

Deception was impossible from the start, and in the last simulation, he’d threatened me multiple times, saying I’d die if I learned his secrets.

I shook my head.

“If that would work, I’d do it.
But if it’s Jeong Iheon, he’ll notice right away.”

“There’s no need to go that far.
It’d be better to just ask him directly.”

Won-gyeong tried to stop the idea, but Ju Noeul still looked deep in thought.

Ju Noeul crossed his arms, straightened suddenly, and stared straight at me as he spoke.

“What if Jeong Iheon knows you’re deceiving him—and lets it happen anyway?”

His eyes and tone were filled with conviction.

“He’s the kind of guy who absolutely would.”

Seeing his confidence, my resolve wavered slightly.

‘…Would it work?’

I didn’t know how strong Jeong Iheon’s feelings for me were, but it was clear he had some.

Before we went to look for the child, hadn’t he told me to call him anytime if I needed him?

I even had memories of sharing a bed with him inside the simulation.

If it came to it, pushing through physically wouldn’t be the worst option.

After quickly weighing my options, I spoke in a positive tone.

“It might work.”

“Doya.”

“No, really. Jeong Iheon never hides that he likes me.

Accepting that much isn’t hard. It’s fine.”

“…You’re saying ‘it’s fine’ again.”

Won-gyeong’s expression darkened at my response.

Ah.

Now that I thought about it, Won-gyeong had always reacted strongly whenever I said I was fine.

The conversation had been cut short before, but he still seemed to wish that I wasn’t.

With Ju Noeul present, he didn’t reject it as fiercely, but he looked worried about how I might act.

I decided to let that go for now.

If I said I was fine, what did anyone else’s opinion matter?