“Is there anyone who would like to make an excuse? If so, please raise your hand.”
The familiarity of the control room was now palpable.
Seori Han sat in her chair, her cold voice muttering as she stared at the screens.
She covered her eyes with her hands, much like a character from an anime, and pressured those participating in the video conference.
Though her pose seemed to hide her anger, an icy chill emanated from her. Her demeanor indicated that she wouldn’t tolerate any excuses.
Witnessing this, the people on the screen hesitantly opened their mouths but ended up bowing their heads deeply, showing shame.
Through her fingers, Han observed them and had to suppress the corners of her mouth as they kept turning upward.
The stress unknowingly accumulated due to their actions started dissolving, making her smile despite herself.
To control her escalating happiness, she spoke in a low tone.
“We’ve been striving to resolve the situation, but what exactly have you done? Were you just munching on puddings while all this chaos unfolded?”
“Pudding… you mean…?”
“…Hmm, never mind. It’s just food favored by a certain Singularity.”
“Ah, I see…”
At the mention of Singularity, unease and discomfort flickered across the faces of those on the screen.
This was because the feeling toward the recently mentioned Singularity, Lime, was deeply complex.
Though there were some doubts about whether it was appropriate to handle Singularity with another Singularity, considering the past achievements, these doubts seemed almost silly now.
Nevertheless, they couldn’t fully dismiss their concerns since people still occasionally perished from the hands of Singularities.
Of course, grouping countless phenomena under the single category of “Singularity” created this situation — akin to labeling all space-bound entities as aliens, even though none exist.
This practice persisted without much interest in change, for reasons unclear.
In any case, they did feel a slight sense of injustice due to this ingrained system. Thoughts like, “Would this have happened if we hadn’t assigned the task to a Singularity? If we hadn’t made that choice?”
But the situation wasn’t entirely favorable, so they couldn’t help themselves.
Still, they weren’t so shameless. It was clear it was their fault that this situation wasn’t prevented. Their objective in enlisting Seori and the Singularity named Lime was always the resolution of the situation.
They succeeded, while the others failed spectacularly. Now the problem was how they would manage this mess with little hope for recovery.
Erasing everyone’s memories was impossible, and rendering the entire populace’s brains as blank slates would be both implausible and unethical. Moreover, with news likely spreading internationally, the matter grew more convoluted.
The management of similar situations elsewhere seemed to be failing too, but fires elsewhere and a fire on your own doorstep were not the same.
“Honestly, is this not an exaggeration of blame?”
“That area is a military zone, right? Why were civilians present?”
“Who said it was safe… Remember them, note their faces.”
While contemplating, the rumors of an impending apocalypse and the preposterous claim that Lime could prevent it began to feel surprisingly valid.
The rapid increase in Singularities and Lime’s timely arrival seemed too coincidental.
While they could emotionally understand people’s fascination and hysteria, intellectually, it made little sense to them.
Seori’s ongoing reprimands — no, perhaps stress relief — or perhaps even well-meaning advice — were met by their continued bowed heads, until a slightly gentler voice sounded.
“Nevertheless, we’ve to deal with the situation, don’t we?”
“Well….”
If it’s true, how exactly are we supposed to fix this…?
As others looked at Seori with such faces, she smiled faintly and continued.
“How about revealing this situation to the public before it becomes too late?”
“Revealing… the existence of Singularities?”
“Exactly. Though it’s not for us to decide, at least we can propose it. Particularly…”
“Particularly…?”
Seori, hiding her mouth slightly, exuded a heavy atmosphere as she spoke.
“Isn’t this the kind of story that would thrill… not middle-schoolers anymore, but the Callers of Twilight? Don’t you think they’d love it?”
Thinking about it, it made sense.
If Singularities were revealed under these circumstances, the complications were predictable.
“…Perhaps.”
Perhaps striking first would be the better option.
While breaking precedent was undesirable, mention of “that group” added gravity, and the consensus started forming. The dislike between the Foundation and the Callers of Twilight was mutual.
“…We’ll consider it positively.”
“Let’s bring the topic up…”
“Good. Isn’t this the flow of the times?”
Seori, feeling as if the cosmos was conspiring in her favor, smirked slightly.
“But… the head of the person who held that thing – just what was it—”
“Ah, we’re out of time. Let’s conclude here with a positive consideration, and we’ll meet again with good news.”
“Wait—”
Seori concluded the video conference. A sneaking suspicion that prolonging the discussion would make it less interesting was the reason.
From behind, Hwang Bo-yul, scratching her cheek, questioned her.
“Is ending it like that acceptable?”
“Hm… If they’re upset, they should’ve performed better themselves, right?”
“That’s… well, yes, but…”
“Right?”
Bo-yul, with an ambiguous expression, faintly nodded. She knew what Seori was aiming for but couldn’t help but worry about overreaching.
Upon recalling, Bo-yul mentioned the one who was supposed to support her in this.
“Yes.”
Well, what could be done? The meeting was over, and words, once said, couldn’t be retracted.
Bo-yul could only hope that Seori wouldn’t end up in the same unfortunate state she had just put those others in.
*
I expected something big to happen, but it was strangely quiet.
Of course, my “quiet” refers to Seori’s reaction, as TV stations were still buzzing about me. The intensity increased day by day; it seemed like something would erupt soon.
I thought Seori would crush me in stress-induced panic, yet her face was brighter than I’d seen in ages, somewhat unsettlingly so.
…Had she finally snapped from too much stress?
Or perhaps the events were unfolding differently than I imagined.
Anyway, our intelligent doctor surely knows what she’s doing. As long as I’m left alone, it suits me just fine, despite having little to do due to staying out of sight.
Not that I have no work. I have the crucial task of supervising whether the Jellies are managing Singularities properly.
What if the Jellies falter, and another incident like this occurs?
This mission can’t fall to anyone but me!
With a sense of purpose, I wandered around the containment units.
But nothing seemed amiss. The Jellies happily played within the chambers, guarding the Singularities like sheep in pens.
I wasn’t hoping for trouble, yet things felt too different from my thoughts. Ordering them around also seemed absurd, so I went to the chamber where the last escape attempt occurred.
Even there, things appeared normal.
Nevertheless, I decided on intensive monitoring. Typically, I assigned two Jellies per shift, but for this sensitive containment, I placed four Jellies inside.
Seeing these Jellies, with faces hard to describe, glowing with pride, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Good job, everyone. Your efforts will be rewarded with puddings… Ah, suddenly I’m craving pudding again.
Approaching the Singularity contained within the chamber of chambers, the being seemed to shy away, inching toward the corner.
It annoyed me, as if the dolphin in a dolphin show had just sprayed me with water.
Even the watching Jellies giggled, making it awkward.
Hmm…
Do they instinctively recognize me as their leader?
I suppose that’s expected from a Singularity with escape tendencies.
An overwhelming urge to go inside and cuddle the creature emerged.
Spotting the Singularity hiding in the corner, I recalled the Miniatures I’d left alone, not really knowing how to approach their education.
I resolved to check on their condition.
Bidding farewell to the Jellies, I headed toward the Miniatures’ monitoring area, followed by the kitchen for pudding.
But my plan ended abruptly:
“Lime! There you are!”
As my day unraveled with the sudden appearance of Yang Ha-na.
