Something had changed—though not in the way Lime thought. More explicitly, it was Hwang Bo-yul who keenly felt the shift in the gazes of the laboratory staff.
Perhaps it was to be expected. Lime had suddenly fallen asleep on the field, and the tidying up of whatever mess she left behind was closer to Bo-yul’s responsibilities.
From Bo-yul’s perspective, it might have seemed a little unjust. After all, it was because of the stories about Lime spreading that the attention had come, and that felt natural enough.
…Who would dare show fear or any negative emotions toward Lime and risk what she might do in response?
You see, while singularities often follow some rules, many do not. Right now, she might play along and seem almost cute while helping them, but who could say she’d remain so if her patience was tested?
And so, they should have tried to hide such emotions from Lime. Even setting aside the fact that higher-ups might overlook such matters, it was simply a matter of self-preservation.
Because they didn’t want to die.
Of course, exposing such emotions to Hwang Bo-yul would be equally dangerous. However, those already overwhelmed by fear seemed not to consider that. Deep down, dwelling too much on it only compounded their fear.
Hwang Bo-yul first noticed this change in demeanor right after Lime had fallen asleep in her arms. Initially, she thought it was because she hadn’t been working (though holding Lime was an important task in itself).
Even if holding Lime was considered critical, it was undeniably a simple task.
The girl in her arms, despite having “handled” that enormous singularity, felt unnaturally light. It wasn’t as if she weighed nothing—it was just that the weight one would expect from a girl of her size wasn’t there.
While this struck her as strange, it was something Bo-yul was already aware of, so she remained calm.
At first, she thought the odd looks directed at her were born from envy or annoyance. It was a gaze she’d often seen before Lime was moved to the isolated laboratory.
But Bo-yul began sensing that something was amiss after speaking to the man who had sent Lime to the lab and had helped her put her to bed.
“Frankly, I never thought you’d actually manage to solve it. What a relief.”
“…So you were carrying something like that all along?”
“Heh… Didn’t I tell you? Always prepare for the worst.”
“Hmnn…”
Bo-yul felt the urge to shut the teasing man up but resisted. After all, it was dangerous to do so. The man, watching her with a knowing grin, lowered his voice conspiratorially and whispered:
“Perhaps you’ve noticed, but the atmosphere around the lab seems to have changed.”
“Hm?”
From his tone, Bo-yul assumed he meant the staff were now viewing Lime more favorably. Her expression must have revealed this, as his smile faltered slightly before he stroked his beard and continued.
“It’s probably not what you think.”
“…What do you mean?”
“…I can’t say much right now, but I think the sooner you leave, the better. Ah, and thank you for your hard work.”
“The hard work was mostly Lime’s.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
The man glanced at her, concern flickering across his face. He sighed, told her to reach out if she needed help, and dismissed her. Though Bo-yul wondered why, she stepped away, understanding how busy he must be.
On her way back to the room where Lime slept, Bo-yul suddenly understood the meaning of the man’s words as she noticed the looks directed her way.
A strange mix of fear and hostility.
The hostility was subtle, but the fear was palpable. Feeling this, Bo-yul experienced a complex mixture of emotions—bitterness, confusion, and even a bit of panic. Until now, Lime’s actions had mostly been met with favorable reactions.
Of course, there had been those who tried something reckless, but even that could be interpreted as a form of admiration, drawn by her abilities.
‘Why now?’
Bo-yul understood the logic behind their reaction but couldn’t reconcile it with the feelings she’d developed while spending time with Lime.
“Maybe I’m the one who’s changed.”
With that thought, she continued on her way. Her journey was interrupted when she stumbled upon a scene that left her utterly baffled—and stiff as stone.
In the corridor leading to the room where Lime slept was an open, familiar resting area—simple chairs, tables, and vending machines.
Nothing unusual about that.
What did catch her eye, however, were the people gathered there, along with some strange construct placed at its center.
“We have nothing else to believe in…”
“She will save us…”
“Please… Please…”
It appeared to be some kind of religious ceremony. Bewildered by the scene, Bo-yul’s attention was drawn to the familiar silhouette at its center. Her face hardened as recognition dawned.
It seemed they were worshipping Lime.
The blue silhouette of a girl. Judging by the detail down to the idiotic fur, it was unmistakable.
“What… is this?”
While the mix of fear and hostility directed at her could be understood—it was a natural evolution of emotions when dealing with singularities—their behavior here was something else entirely, and not something she could fathom.
Even the fact that they were doing this in such a public space was strange.
Had the higher-ups approved of it? It made no sense.
Before Bo-yul could think more on it, someone else rushed into the break room, breathless.
“What in the world are you people doing here!?”
“What! What’s the problem?!”
“If Lime stays with us, we won’t die…”
“The end is coming… Only she can protect us… Don’t you feel it?”
“Are you all insane!?”
“And yet, your bodies seem quite honest about it…”
The ensuing chaos confirmed her suspicions—this was far from a slight change in atmosphere.
Bo-yul quietly slipped away, sensing the situation to be increasingly unsettling. Perhaps the man had been right to urge haste.
Her face set in a stone-like expression, she walked on, recalling the things she’d heard during her journey here.
The rapid proliferation of singularities.
The global struggles to conceal them.
She couldn’t shake the premonition that something unprecedented was about to happen—and she wasn’t the only one sensing it. This unease might have manifested through the odd behaviors she’d witnessed: the hostility, the worship.
“…I don’t know.”
It was beyond her capacity to judge clearly.
For now, she needed to return to the original lab and observe the situation further.
In an empty break room, Bo-yul prepared food from a vending machine for Lime, letting out a bitter laugh. She couldn’t help but think that if something truly catastrophic happened, perhaps the safest place would be by Lime’s side.
And perhaps that wasn’t just a flippant thought at all.
As her heart grew heavier with these thoughts, Bo-yul finally arrived at the room where Lime, now awake, lay. Though she felt apologetic for rushing the girl, there was no time for leisure. With swift motions, she practically force-fed Lime.
Slightly startled by Bo-yul’s actions, Lime didn’t have much of a choice.
After feeding Lime, Bo-yul placed her into a carrier and made her way out of the lab, pulling the carrier along. It was then that she realized her mistake, noticing the various gazes—hostile or worshipful—targeting her. She retreated into her pocket for a mask, covering her face.
Comparing it to the times when she and Lime had freely walked through the halls uncovered, it all felt oddly bittersweet.
But there was no other option.
Meeting anyone overly hostile—or worshippers—could only lead to complications.
Regardless…
Due to her quick actions, she and Lime managed to escape the lab safely.
Bo-yul then used a set of car keys that had somehow found their way into her pocket and started the car. Though it was odd to think she had arrived here with the man driving, she understood—he’d likely be incredibly busy given the lab’s current state.
“…Guess he still can’t quit smoking.”
After confirming Lime was secure, Bo-yul drove off, speeding away from the scene.
Perhaps… this lab that had once felt like home might truly become her sanctuary.
Praying nothing would happen on their way back, she pressed the gas pedal harder, hoping for a trouble-free return.
