As Han Seori’s group fell silent amidst the calm before the storm…
Yang Ha-na, alone in the laboratory, hummed a tune while opening the refrigerator.
The refrigerator, exhaling a cloud of white vapor, revealed an array of foods prepared by the worry-prone Kim Cheon-soo, along with a beautifully gleaming pudding.
Without hesitation, Yang Ha-na reached for the silver bowl containing the pudding, her face beaming with delight as she retrieved it, closing the fridge.
Having closed the refrigerator, she took out the personal spoon she had tucked away in her arms, licking her lips in anticipation.
Then, catching the eye of Sphere unexpectedly, she awkwardly cleared her throat and muttered.
“Shouldn’t you eat it before it goes bad?”
Sphere remained silent, neither moving his body in recognition nor flashing any signal.
“…Tch.”
Yang Ha-na felt a slight pang of disappointment at Sphere’s silence.
She understood that Singularities were enigmatic beings, but wasn’t this excessive?
Every day, she took care of him, wiping his surface clean and chattering away with him, and now she felt somewhat restless.
She often imagined a day when Sphere would suddenly understand language and start talking to her.
But the reality she desired… at least for her, seemed distant, for Sphere remained utterly mute.
Though the truth was slightly different, to Yang Ha-na, that was how things appeared.
If such a grand existence, shouldn’t he at least be able to speak easily?
Even Jelly understands our language pretty well…
…Could he really not comprehend it?
I don’t know.
If I knew, wouldn’t I be out with Seori instead of staying here, or even accompanying Dr. Han outside?
Shaking her head repeatedly, Yang Ha-na walked out of the kitchen with her stainless steel bowl.
As she walked purposefully, heading somewhere, she scooped some pudding with the spoon in her other hand.
Shaking.
The pudding on the spoon trembled faintly, as though sensing its fate.
But Yang Ha-na, being human, paid it no mind, and without hesitation, she took a “Hmmpf!” bite of the pudding, chewing it smoothly.
The pudding seemed to have no chance to exact revenge on humans.
Its only hope for revenge was for Yang Ha-na to get sick from its own spoiled state, but that was unlikely, given Kim Cheon-soo’s meticulousness.
The pudding dissolved smoothly, leaving a sweet and savory aftertaste in Yang Ha-na’s mouth before sliding down her throat.
“Umm~!”
Yang Ha-na didn’t catch whatever the pudding might have said as it went down her throat and marveled at the pudding Kim Cheon-soo made, beaming happily.
Walking through the empty corridor, Yang Ha-na suddenly felt a pang of loneliness.
…I’m no kid, yet here I am.
Loneliness?
It was certainly an odd feeling.
The research facility where she and the others stayed already felt too empty, considering the number of people.
There were few beings who could even be called human in the first place.
The expansive lab was filled with only a few people and some Singularities.
Even the usually large and quiet research center felt even more hollow and vast now that some people and Singularities had left.
…If the remaining Singularity were Jelly instead, would it be better?
Yang Ha-na glanced at Sphere, who was trailing behind her, and shook her head inwardly.
No, it would be disrespectful to him.
…Maybe there’s a reason he can’t speak, like Jelly.
By “Jelly,” Yang Ha-na meant the Jelly Girl.
Anyway.
Yang Ha-na, walking somewhere while munching on pudding, entered an isolation room by opening its tightly closed door.
There, part of the Jelly Girl’s leftover Jelly Squad was huddled together.
Recognizing Yang Ha-na, the jellies started wiggling their bodies before slowly approaching her.
Looking at them with a pleasant smile, Yang Ha-na distributed pudding to the approaching jellies.
She scooped pudding onto her spoon and plopped it onto their forms.
The pudding that toppled onto them clung to the jelly bodies momentarily like kin before disappearing into the jelly and starting to dissolve.
The sight might have felt peculiar, like eating a kind of kinsfolk, but to Yang Ha-na, they looked cute, and she continued to distribute pudding to the jellies.
After all, this kind of thing is better shared.
As Yang Ha-na was distributing pudding, the floating Sphere caught her eye.
…Does he not need to eat?
Is he fine because he’s a robot?
Or since he’s called a Singularity, does he consume food?
Or not?
Then, how does he move in the first place?
Electricity?
Yang Ha-na wondered, having never seen Sphere being recharged or anything similar.
She then thought about whether he secretly ate food at night.
With a tense face, she scooped some pudding with her spoon and quietly offered it to Sphere.
“Is it that you want to eat but can’t ask?”
For a while, Yang Ha-na extended the spoon into the air before feeling awkward and pulling it back.
For some reason, it felt like the silent Sphere was looking at her with an astonished expression.
“…No, never mind… Just talk.”
Feeling embarrassed, Yang Ha-na muttered under her breath.
Upon reflecting, it was clearly absurd.
A robot eating food, of all things.
It might have been better to offer him a glass of oil.
Yang Ha-na shoved into her mouth the pudding she had initially offered to Sphere.
Though it was undeniably delicious, she felt a vague bitterness.
“Haa… I never knew watching the house alone could be this boring.”
…It would be nice if I could go out for a bit.
That’s probably not allowed, right?
Recalling Han Seori’s instructions, Yang Ha-na gave up on the idea of going out.
Instead, she ate pudding and gave some to the jellies while hoping that the group would return soon.
There wasn’t much entertainment in this vast space, and she missed the presence of others greatly.
Ah, should I go to Jelly’s room and watch TV?
Yang Ha-na’s face brightened briefly before turning sullen again.
If she went to Jelly Girl’s room, she’d inevitably come across reminders of Jelly and that would probably make her feel lonely again.
“Ahhh…”
Rather than asking them to bring food next time, perhaps she should have asked them to bring books or games.
With an irritated glance at Sphere, Yang Ha-na left the quarantine room.
Now that the pudding in the bowl was all gone.
Watching the lively jellies wasn’t unpleasant, but it inevitably reminded her of Jelly lying on the bed with the Jelly Girl.
…The entire world seemed to be filled with Jelly Girl’s traces.
But that was unavoidable.
After all, the massive lab itself was practically a facility made for Jelly Girl.
Yang Ha-na didn’t know this and thus complained.
Even as she complained, she placed the stainless steel bowl back in the kitchen and moved to the control room.
It was the most familiar place and the first to alert her to any incidents.
The shy Sphere trailed behind her quietly.
Arriving at the control room, Yang Ha-na sat in Han Seori’s chair, pretending to look intellectual, then sat in Kim Cheon-soo’s chair, sneaking glances at Han Seori’s seat.
…Sitting in Hwang Bo-yul’s chair, however, made her scratch her head awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
“…What am I even doing?”
Then, a sudden bout of philosophical contemplation hit Yang Ha-na, and she rested her face on the desk, pressing her fingers against it.
Though nothing was physically pressing, she was focused.
As she pressed against the air between her fingertips and the desk, a sharp warning sound began to ring in her ears.
“Uh? What’s going on? I didn’t do anything!”
Startled, Yang Ha-na lifted her finger off the desk and glanced around in panic. After checking the desk she had touched and finding nothing, she nervously darted her eyes about, feeling quite flustered.
…Was Yang Ha-na feeling uneasy?
A sound came from the control panel, as if manipulated by someone, and a large screen lit up showing an image of somewhere else.
“Huh?”
With a vacant expression, Yang Ha-na widened her eyes and stared at the screen.
There, a presumed castaway was seen collapsed on the ground, panting.
Witnessing this, Yang Ha-na’s face turned pale as she muttered.
“Uh, what should I do? Is this someone who needs help?”
As she watched the screen, memories surfaced of herself collapsing in the snow, close to d*ath.
Yang Ha-na’s trembling hands were lost in thought.
Is this… a situation where I should contact Dr. Han?
What should I do?
Yang Ha-na hesitated.
Uncertain if this was a situation that Han Seori needed to be informed of.
She didn’t want to disturb the group, who had gone out to handle important matters for something trivial.
While Yang Ha-na was in deep conflict, the figure on the screen struggled to move, leaning against a tree much like she had done before.
He seemed alive but worn out… looking like he needed help, even if not immediate rescue.
…Should I go out and just give him medical tools and some food and come back?
Just as my seniors helped me.
“Should I go see…?”
As she muttered this, Sphere trembled suddenly and, unbeknownst to Yang Ha-na, began to flash a red light.
If he remained totally silent,
There was a possibility that Yang Ha-na would really leave to help the person.
…Ultimately, Sphere…
[…I don’t recommend going out. Monkey.]
“Wha- Mom!”
A voice filled with disdain rang out, and Yang Ha-na, startled, face-planted on the desk.
[….]
The gathered information indicates you’re not much different from a monkey.
Unknowingly, Sphere sparked lightly with electricity.
