The tremor didn’t last long, but it seemed like something out of the ordinary, so the group from the Laboratory gradually gathered in the control room.
That said, there weren’t many people present, excluding Lee Yoo-jin and Yang Ha-na.
Lee Yoo-jin was still outside, and Yang Ha-na was so buried under her clothes that she hadn’t even noticed the shaking.
It seemed a bit odd at first glance, but considering her nature, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
In any case.
The first to appear was Hwang Bo-yul.
She walked into the control room with her hair drenched, as if she had been taking a shower just moments ago.
Following her into the control room was Han Seori.
It looked like she had just awoken from a nap after finishing some urgent business; her eyes were reddened like a rabbit’s, and there were traces of drool around her mouth.
Seeing Hwang Bo-yul upon hastily entering, Han Seori wiped her mouth with her sleeve and inquired.
“What’s going on?”
“I just arrived as well.”
As the two exchanged awkward pleasantries, Kim Cheon-soo emerged from the kitchen, his apron still tied around him.
He had clearly been working in the kitchen moments ago, and judging by the thick liquid smeared all over his face and apron, he might have gotten into quite a mess with the ingredients.
Hanging limply on Kim Cheon-soo’s shoulder, draped only in an apron, was Lime.
Lime, clad in nothing but the apron, hung weakly over Kim Cheon-soo’s shoulder.
Hwang Bo-yul and Han Seori couldn’t help but glance at Lime, clearly curious about her plight.
However, something more pressing was at hand, so the two refrained from asking, knowing at least that much discretion.
With her composure restored, Han Seori addressed Hwang Bo-yul and Kim Cheon-soo.
“Could the two of you check on the isolated individuals separately? I will verify if the Singularities are safe.”
“Understood.”
“Let’s do that.”
Hwang Bo-yul, with her damp hair, turned around, shaking off droplets, while Kim Cheon-soo hesitantly released Lime onto a chair in the control room before turning away. Even as he opened the door to leave, his eyes remained fixed on Lime with worry.
‘What on earth happened here?’
In the control room, Han Seori gazed at Lime, who was slumped over in the chair, still wearing the apron.
Even though she knew now wasn’t the time to worry about Lime, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She understood why Kim Cheon-soo hadn’t taken his eyes off Lime as he left.
Biting her lips, she adjusted the control panels.
Hoping that nothing untoward had occurred, she checked the containment cells guarded by the Jellies. The possibility that the earlier tremor was caused by one of the Singularities couldn’t be entirely ruled out.
Hwang Bo-yul seemed slightly startled but remained on guard, while the Singularities stayed quietly in their cells, showing no intention of challenging the Jellies.
[No issues here. Nobody’s even stirred, let alone released.]
[All clear.]
[Yeeip!]
[H-Hnneep!]
It seemed that the newcomers’ plan from earlier hadn’t caused any problems—it might have just been an ordinary earthquake.
With this reassurance, Han Seori let out a sigh of relief.
Confirming that all was well inside the Laboratory, she finally felt a moment of ease.
Yet, her thoughts quickly returned to…
…the limp state of Lime, still wearing the apron.
Could Lime’s condition have anything to do with the earthquake?
Though it seemed far-fetched, the thought lingered. After all, Kim Cheon-soo had that peculiar ability to somehow summon pudding, and strange things like this had happened before. Plus, she’d never seen Lime like this, which added to her curiosity and concern.
She gently embraced Lime, patting her back and whispering softly.
“What happened to you, dear…?”
As expected, no answer came.
Lime briefly looked up at Han Seori but then buried her face back into a Jelly’s lap, as if recognizing that Han Seori wouldn’t understand.
“Ugh…”
Though feeling sorry for her, Han Seori couldn’t help but feel playful.
Justifying it as an attempt to cheer Lime up, Han Seori started gently poking Lime’s various spots.
“Is this because Cheon-soo scolded you for eating too much pudding?”
She teased, feeling parts of Lime she rarely touched—like her small, delicate toes and armpits.
“Soft.”
Han Seori mused while poking, finding Lime’s reactions intriguing.
‘Hmm… looks the same.’
Just then, an incoming message drew Han Seori’s attention, and with a sense of foreboding, she answered.
“Doctor. Good morning. Is there any issue?” Han Seori naturally moved Lime out of camera sight before responding calmly.
[Nothing special, but there’s a peculiar tree that’s sprouted near the village outskirts.]
“…A tree?”
[Yes. The ground trembled earlier, and we evacuated briefly. When we returned, this unfamiliar tree had grown.]
“…It wasn’t there before?”
[Correct.]
Han Seori felt a nagging headache.
Though the Singularities in the Laboratory were quiet, leading her to suspect it might be some strange natural phenomenon, the fact that something entirely new had appeared made it almost certainly a Singularity.
Particularly, the area where this new tree appeared was where the Jellies had buried some newcomers earlier.
It appeared that something important had been planted without anyone noticing.
With mounting stress, Han Seori, whose earlier curiosity had been playful, now clutched Lime tightly and said,
“A Singularity… Could you please check if anyone knows about this? It looks like something planted by those people.”
[Those bastards finally caused trouble. Understood.]
At least it wasn’t something that had erupted inside the Laboratory.
“…Just a moment.”
Hadn’t they turned away those people who came looking for Lime yesterday?
If so, wouldn’t even more people come today to insist on seeing her?
“Ah, damn it.”
It felt like her stomach had been punctured—a pain so intense she couldn’t suppress a groan.
Just as Han Seori felt her insides twist, people from the village gathered to examine the strange tree that had suddenly grown.
“What kind of tree is this?”
“Judging by its fine branching, it resembles an orange tree, maybe…”
“It’s not just a regular tree. It’s a Singularity, so the specific type probably doesn’t matter much, right?”
“Well, I guess, but who here knows anything about these Singularities?”
No one could offer a clear answer to the man’s question.
The man, expecting this response, sighed.
As someone who knew how the ‘Call of Twilight’ operated, it made sense.
Composed of those who’ve escaped ‘the Foundation’ and those they’ve recruited, the group rarely shared information openly, even among themselves.
They might share with those recognized within their specific ‘faction,’ but with others… well, revealing information was something they were quite averse to doing.
This was in stark contrast to the Foundation, where one could access the database if granted permission.
Although, even in the Foundation, the number of those with such clearance wasn’t many. Still, the Foundation at least pretended to be open to everyone, and had some level of active collaboration.
On the other hand, the villagers gathered were the unallied ones.
Left out due to the lack of proper affiliations, as they were seen as unreliable, they weren’t offered many chances to join any factions.
Even though they had cooperated out of sheer necessity for survival, proper information was rarely provided to them, and their lack of cooperative intent ensured they were overlooked by the factions.
They were, however, receiving relatively good treatment at the place they had ended up, which made them eager to figure out the identity of the newly emerged Singularity.
But their efforts produced little insight.
Besides the fact that the orange tree-like plant kept growing larger, there was not much else they could gather.
“Whatever it’s consuming, it’s growing from it… but what could that be?”
“It’s probably using nutrients from the soil, since it’s a tree, right?”
As doubts mounted, unease grew, with concerns that they might be abandoned once again.
In the midst of this, people who were presumed to have come in search of Lime approached.
“…Shouldn’t we prevent those people from getting here?”
“Yeah, it’s probably dangerous, whatever this is.”
Though the villagers acknowledged this fact, when they moved to block the approaching group,
“After narrowly missing you yesterday, are you telling us to go back today!? Why?”
“It’s… dangerous.”
“Dangerous? What do you mean?”
The pale-faced man chuckled as he pointed towards the tree that blocked their way.
“It’s just a tree, isn’t it?”
“It’s not just a tree.”
“You mean, one of those Singularities or something?”
“That’s right…?”
“Well, I’d still like a good look regardless.”
“No, it could be dangerous.”
“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a tree.”
The recently acquainted with Singularities weren’t overly wary yet.
Maybe it was all because the first Singularity they encountered was Lime, an irregularity who was far from threatening but rather cute and approachable.
It seemed they hadn’t fully grasped how dangerous Singularities could potentially be.
While they were arguing,
Blossoms suddenly bloomed on the branches of the tree that had been growing into the sky.
The pure white flowers that instantly opened soon began to soak in crimson coloration, transforming into deep red.
And soon, they bore fruit.
Blood-red, large…
Oranges.
At that moment, the murmurs of the crowd ceased as they all stared at this miraculous event.
