In the director’s office at Sehee Research Institute, Seoah and I were scrutinizing the security CCTV footage playing on the wall-mounted monitors.
The silence in the director’s office was only occasionally interrupted by the rustling of papers filled with charts and graphs.
But no matter how many times we reviewed it, we couldn’t pinpoint the cause.
Why on earth did the Glass Flamingo manage to escape?
I turned to Seoah and asked,
“Why did it suddenly escape? I’ve examined the footage closely, but there’s no sign of provocation or attack from anyone.”
Seoah replied thoughtfully after a moment’s pause.
“So, I thoroughly analyzed the research facility that contained it before it was transferred to Sehee. There were a few suspicious factors.”
“Huh? What kind of suspicious factors?”
I tilted my head slightly, showing deep interest as I questioned her.
Seoah then showed me a series of photos that looked like they could belong to a military installation—grim and imposing.
Inside these images was an impressive structure surrounded by thick reinforced outer walls, along with demolition equipment capable of burying the isolation rooms underground at any time.
My first impression upon seeing those pictures? “Wow, they really splurged on this place.”
“It seems the lack of such high-intensity isolation facilities in our institute might be the reason. Perhaps it sensed the possibility of escape and decided to act when conditions seemed favorable. Its behavior post-escape suggests it was more interested in fleeing via the stairs rather than attacking people.”
“So, it pretended to be harmless until it spotted a weak point and bolted?”
For some reason, it felt like the object had mocked us and escaped, which left me feeling a bit irritated.
“Still, it’s lucky. Hopefully, there won’t be any more escapes like this.”
As I glanced toward the corner of the desk, I noticed something sturdy yet adorable standing confidently—a soldier made entirely out of water!
Wearing a helmet made of water and wielding a spear also crafted from water stood The Golden Reaper!
Its confident expression combined with its cute appearance created a synergy that doubled its charm.
After the Glass Flamingo’s escape, somewhere, The Golden Reapers managed to acquire helmets and spears, starting patrols around the institute.
One stationed near each isolation room.
Another keeping watch in every office.
And thumping their way through the corridors.
Even lounging around near the pudding in the break room.
While we found them endearing, other objects seemed less amused; their aggression significantly decreased whenever a Golden Reaper passed by.
Employees who frequently encountered the cute Golden Reapers reported increased job satisfaction!
Thus, Sehee Research Institute became the safest and happiest place in the world.
We were enjoying a dreamlike rest at the artificial beach of the water park.
Below me lay Yerin, lying back on a plastic bed that didn’t quite match the soft sands but still appeared comfortable enough for her serene smile.
Despite the hard surface, Yerin rested peacefully with an expression brimming with pure contentment.
I sprawled lazily above her, relaxed and comfortable.
Above us, the lively Golden Reapers took their leisure, some lounging while others playfully jumped on my stomach.
Yerin seemed happy, and I was too, finding comfort atop her instead of the stiff plastic bed.
With the Golden Reapers frolicking joyfully, it was a perfect paradise.
Watching them leap about rekindled my playful spirit.
Come to think of it, I haven’t teased the Blue Reaper with my marshmallow hammer lately.
Maybe I should play fair and include everyone, even if the youngest one feels a little fragile.
Putting him in the washing machine like the Golden Reaper would likely tear his limbs off.
Amidst the delightful antics of the Golden Reapers skipping across the water, Yerin nibbling on snacks, and everything else so peaceful, the tranquility shattered abruptly with a rip in space.
Seeing the spatial crack reaching toward Yerin’s neck, I quickly summoned the Mini Reaper Garden around us.
Fortunately, the tear in space halted mid-air, unable to penetrate the area I controlled.
“!”
Startled by the sudden event, Yerin instinctively clutched her throat and sat up without uttering a sound.
Though the rift closed instantly, the portion of the floor affected by the spatial cut began crumbling and falling apart slowly.
What just happened?
Fuming over the close call involving Yerin’s life, I rose and spread my senses outward.
Probably about 90% chance this was caused by that tree cutting through the space.
Just as I contemplated turning the chopped-up wood into sawdust, James burst into the isolation room, drenched in sweat, holding his phone.
“Why aren’t you answering your calls? Everyone, get out! We need to evacuate James City immediately.”
James looked as though he had sprinted here with all his might.
Without asking questions, perhaps due to witnessing the steel walls being sliced like pudding, Yerin hastily threw on a shirt over her swimsuit and followed James.
The view of the institute during our cart ride out was chaotic.
Doors were wide open, papers and advanced machinery scattered across the floors as if everyone had fled in haste.
Occasionally, we spotted dismembered bodies caught in the spatial cuts.
“Just now, I received a report about abnormalities in the barrier. We supposedly have six hours, but with the flow of time disrupted, it’s uncertain. Six hours could become one hour, one second, or even a year—we don’t know. We must hurry.”
James continued tensely.
“At least the barrier is holding strong. When the tree first expanded its territory, everyone fled in panic, leading to extensive damage.”
James muttered under his breath, “Who would’ve thought the vice mayor would make such a decision?”
Passing through the internal grounds and stepping outside, the streets were eerily empty.
Signs of multiple spatial cuts sweeping through the area were evident.
Tall buildings rarely retained their original forms, while shorter ones looked precariously close to collapsing.
Placing two Golden Reapers atop Yerin and James’ heads, I leapt out of the vehicle.
“Reaper?”
Glancing briefly at Yerin moving further away, I invoked Ghosting and dashed toward the barrier.
Since Yerin’s life was endangered, revenge was necessary.
Where am I?
Trying to recognize my surroundings only brought confusion.
Yes, I was in the control room for the barrier.
I must protect the barrier.
It’s my duty to safeguard the citizens from dangerous objects…but…
Instead of the control room, what I saw was a chaotic mosaic of countless fragmented mirrors, shattered beyond recognition.
Sounds barely reached my ears, drowned out as if submerged deep underwater.
All colors and shapes within my vision swirled chaotically like a kaleidoscope gone wild.
My thoughts and the world itself had fundamentally diverged, leaving me disconnected from reality.
Looking down, I saw my palm anchored firmly onto the console like an anchor amidst the storm.
The timer on the console read six hours, then jumbled letters forming one hour, then -30 hours.
The displayed time was nonsensical, rendering the concept of ‘remaining time’ meaningless.
Ah yes, this must be it.
The infamous time anomaly beyond the barrier, recorded only in texts.
A world where time doesn’t flow linearly but spirals and twists uncontrollably.
The control panel beneath my hand was already fragmented into countless shards, ancient and broken as if millennia had passed.
Yet, momentarily glancing away and returning revealed it intact once more.
Continuing as if nothing had changed.
And me—or whatever fragment remained identifiable—was tangled within this chaos.
I was already dead.
Yet somehow alive, gazing at my own corpse.
Time felt both frozen and endlessly flowing, making it impossible to discern whether six hours had truly passed.
Trapped eternally within this fractured timeline, repeating this scenario endlessly.
An endless labyrinth of colliding pasts, presents, and futures.
My prison.
Thump-thump.
Walking alone through streets once orderly and bustling, now eerily silent and deserted.
Each step echoed lonely rhythms through the abandoned cityscape.
Restaurants inviting hunger, facilities sparking curiosity.
This city would have been delightful exploring alongside Yerin tomorrow.
However, roads and buildings were wrecked, and traces of hasty evacuations littered the empty streets.
Like salmon swimming upstream, I retraced the escape routes, inching closer to my destination.
Every step brought me nearer to the ominously vibrating barrier.
The closer I approached, the stronger the presence of the tree became.
Occasionally, space tore violently, slicing through the city like lightning in a stormy night.
Upon arriving at the massive barrier, its condition appeared dire.
Miraculously maintaining form despite its fractured state.
Like a shattered ceramic glued together勉强.
Cracks in the barrier oozed an eerie dark blue light resembling bl**d.
Lifting my gaze to the barrier, I dove directly into its wound.
The world, previously obscured by foggy confusion, began aligning as if observed by a powerful entity.
Raising my immobile head, I beheld a world still broken but distinctly different.
A landscape stitched together from countless alien realities.
A living mosaic.
The ground resembled a puzzle pieced together from mismatched fragments.
A terrain teeming with life, blooming with vibrant white flowers.
Long shadows danced alone like ghosts.
At the edge of this patchwork land stood a towering tree, spreading vast roots connecting and binding the disparate pieces.
Above, the sky was a chaotic tapestry of dusk, dawn, day, and night, swirling endlessly.
A sky akin to broken mirror shards stretched infinitely.
Yet, ruling over this surreal realm wasn’t the tree.
Hovering above the fractured heavens, casting a heavy glow upon the tree, loomed the immense Indigo Moon.
