The world is hurtling toward destruction due to the Rift, but even within that Rift, traces of humanity’s attempts to pioneer it remain like scars that won’t fade—etched across the terrain like tattoos.

The scattered boreholes and abandoned facilities speak for themselves.

The South Korean government once poured astronomical amounts of money into installing and operating drilling equipment inside the Rift to explore its geological makeup.

At the time, the media sensationalized it, declaring that the interior of the Rift might be the surface of an unknown planet outside our solar system—where rare elements like gold and iridium could be as plentiful as pebbles underfoot.

Eek— Eek—

All I can hear is the unnatural, grating friction of human-drawn trains.

The Rift is submerged in eternal stillness.

And now, night has fallen.

Technically, there’s no such thing as night or day inside the Rift, so calling it "night" is a misnomer. But we operate here based on Korea Standard Time.

Civilians working in the Rift enjoy relatively humane conditions: 8 hours of labor, 16 hours of rest per day.

I suppose if they didn’t at least uphold that, people wouldn’t survive here for long.

Sleeping bags lie strewn about like dead larvae, yet only a handful of people are actually asleep.

Most rely on sleep aids—pills, eye masks, earplugs—trying to shut out their senses.

Some have noise-canceling earphones in. Not that I trust those to work properly.

Despite all that effort for a decent sleep, countless workers lie awake, tormented by insomnia and anxiety, struggling through a night that never ends.

Luckily, I was trained to sleep under any condition.

After a short but deep rest, I looked around.

"······."

The same, persistent sense of alienation—a feeling I’ll never grow used to.

It’s not unreasonable for people to go mad here.

Scanning the area, I saw others like me—either recently awakened or having given up on sleep—sitting upright, staring blankly into the void, or reading something.

Lee Dong-hyeon was one of them.

He piqued my interest.

I approached him slowly, deliberately making soft noises as I did.

He looked up and gave me a faint smile.

"What are you reading?"

He turned the book cover toward me.

[The Savior Kang Han-min, in Comics! Vol. 1]

I couldn’t help but chuckle the moment I read the title.

I know this book.

Like all national heroes, Kang Han-min had his fair share of biographies and memoirs published in droves.

The one Lee Dong-hyeon held was a comic book biography targeting the youngest demographic.

It came out during the late China period, and despite being surrounded by coworkers, I remember bursting into laughter when I first saw how absurd it was.

The most egregious error was the depiction of Kang Han-min himself.

According to the comic, he was a timid, delicate student with long bangs covering his eyes—revealing a hidden pretty-boy charm whenever his hair parted.

I remember Jang Ki-young calling me once about it.

“Is this a porn game protagonist or what?”

Kang Han-min’s portrayal was one thing.

Worse was how they depicted the people around him.

The comic claimed he went to school like the real Kang Han-min, but to emphasize his brilliance, all his classmates were turned into complete weirdos.

Among them was “Propeller” Park Gyu—the main villain who bullied Kang Han-min. Judging by the clunky pun of the name, it was unmistakably me.

The comic’s version of Park Gyu looked nothing like me.

He was drawn like a hulking American jock—blonde, freckled, with a mean mug—who constantly picked on weaker kids and, for some reason, secretly spiked Kang Han-min’s canteen with laxatives.

Naturally, poop humor plays well with kids. In the comic, despite the sabotage, Kang Han-min uses his superhuman sphincter control to ace a tough test and humiliate Park Gyu.

"Ah, that thing."

I hadn’t seen it in nearly a decade. Still ridiculous as ever.

"The Rift might be hell, but at least it’s good for reading."

Lee Dong-hyeon had other books too, not just the Han-min comic.

Mostly comics.

Some were mass-printed before the war, while others were shoddily compiled printouts.

But there was one exception.

A Bible.

“Oh, that?”

When I noticed the Bible, Lee Dong-hyeon gave a sheepish smile.

"I’m not religious, I just read it. Lots of it is hard to understand, but some parts are really beautiful. And, I don’t know... I guess I just wish the God and Jesus from this book were real."

Our peaceful moment was broken by the sudden clamor of boots.

At the edge of Zone A, the soldiers stationed as escorts were rushing past us in a hurry.

Lee Dong-hyeon noticed and quietly closed his Bible.

"We’d better be careful."

I looked at him.

"We haven’t had a resupply in over 70 days, right? The standard stockpile limit for an outpost is around 90 days. We’re probably hitting the threshold."

I understood what he meant.

I spoke.

"Are you saying we might no longer be secure?"

He nodded.

"The probability of an Antibody appearing is extremely high."

The next day, his words proved exactly right.

"What the fuck is that?"

"I don’t know, but it feels seriously ominous."

A monster was spotted about 25 kilometers out.

A new type—never seen before.

Antibodies are monsters that spawn at random inside the Rift, unrelated to monster hordes or any known patterns. They often take forms we’ve never encountered.

This one was no exception.

A triangular prism.

On either side were appendages that could be mistaken for arms or withered stalks, eerily fluttering in the still air.

Estimated height: at least 12 meters.

Taller than most large-class monsters, but narrow in width, so I’d categorize it as a mid-class.

Strangely, this Antibody did not act aggressively, even though it was clearly within visual range.

"It wasn’t there yesterday."

"Wasn’t there the day before either."

"Did it just emerge? What’s the patrol saying?"

"Not sure. But command says to move the supply train."

I eavesdropped on the soldiers.

As carefully as I watched their words, I watched their faces.

Anxiety. Worry. Fear.

These guys were no match for monsters.

There were over twenty soldiers, but only one of them carried an actual anti-monster weapon. That said enough.

From what I saw, they weren’t here to deal with monsters.

They were here to manage humans—specifically, to monitor and control us.

Even when an obvious threat appeared in the distance and the workers hesitated, the soldiers pressured us to move forward.

"Alright, no time to waste. These things show up all the time. Just ignore it and move. The faster you go, the sooner you can rest. There’ll be a fat bonus too. So don’t slack—just march. If you die, well, shit happens."

But they didn’t touch the F.O. workers—the regular employees.

They didn’t need to.

"······."

Like soulless machines, they shoveled powdery meals into their mouths, pissed in designated corners en masse, strapped on harnesses designed to distribute load across their entire torsos, and pulled the trains.

Eek— Eek—

At first, the train’s grinding didn’t bother me. Now it did.

More than monsters, it was those workers who weighed on my mind.

Why?

I didn’t want to know.

Why they ended up like that.

Maybe the soldiers wondered «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» the same.

On the third night.

No different from day, but still called “night,” an incident occurred.

Another Antibody appeared.

The same triangular prism as before.

Like a necromancer-type, it hovered toward us with a gravity-defying float.

And that wasn’t all.

As it moved, wind began to blow.

I’d never seen wind inside the Rift.

But this was real.

Even though it was a mere breeze, the ground here was covered in such fine particles that visibility quickly turned a murky gray-white.

This wasn’t normal.

"Damn it! At least a mid-class! Did it detect us?"

"Move! Off the tracks! Maybe it’ll just pass by?"

"What about the train?!"

"I don’t care! Not our problem! Move the K.T.T. first!"

The soldiers woke everyone up.

As I’d seen yesterday, they didn’t have the authority to command the train laborers.

Still, they shouted at us in frantic, authoritative tones.

"We’re moving first. You all know the route, right? Just follow the tracks."

Dust thickened.

Morale visibly plummeted.

Some snorted unknown substances. Others slammed their heads into cars, cursing and displaying erratic behavior.

Jo Yong-gu was no exception.

He tried to start the vehicle even though I wasn’t inside yet.

If Rift vehicles had proper door locks, I’d have been left in the dust like a chasing mutt.

I yanked the door open just as the car began to accelerate and pulled Jo Yong-gu out.

“Augh! What the hell! What the hell!”

He looked at me, eyes darting in confusion, swallowing hard.

I looked down and said calmly,

"Relax."

"Ah. Okay."

He seemed to have plenty to say, but after seeing my show of strength, he wisely held his tongue.

"Get in."

"What about the others?"

"There’s no time. The Antibody’s coming. No one knows what weapons it might have. If it fires guided missiles like some of them do, we’ll all die!"

I blocked the driver’s seat and stared into the gray-white haze.

"Lee Dong-hyeon!"

A man clambered into the cargo bed.

I shouted.

"Who are you?"

"Kang Gu-cheol!"

So it was him.

"Where’s Lee Dong-hyeon?"

"I don’t know! Let’s just go! Something’s wrong!"

Before he even finished, something twitched in my pocket.

John_nenon.

It was reacting.

Of course.

Then came the one sound I never wanted to hear.

Boom!

Shockwave.

No doubt.

It had noticed us.

Shhhk—

A wind like razor blades sliced overhead.

"······."

I didn’t know what it was.

But—

"Aaaaaagh! Help meeeeeee—!"

A chilling scream rang out above.

The scream shifted quickly, from east to west.

Someone was being dragged away.

Faster than even a full-speed vehicle.

"Let’s go! Go now!"

Fear, ironically, grants courage.

Jo Yong-gu, who had shrunk before me, now shoved me aside.

"······."

I stepped back.

No choice.

Wheeeeee—

The electric motor whirred and the vehicle lurched up and out with violent acceleration.

Amid the chaos, a sorrowful scream echoed—someone had been hit.

But there was no helping it.

This is survival.

Most living things hurt or kill others to stay alive.

A cruel truth that the living must endure.

*

The gray dust settled, and visibility returned.

In the stillness, we gathered along the tracks.

It’s not something to brag about, but our vehicle—driven by Jo Yong-gu—had made it the farthest.

Soldiers blew whistles and waved flags to call everyone back.

As trains regrouped and workers gathered, the soldiers began counting heads.

Twelve vehicles total—eleven arrived, one remained broken ahead.

All vehicles intact.

But we were missing people.

At least ten workers were unaccounted for.

One of them had probably been the person our car hit.

I looked for familiar faces among the survivors.

But the mysterious man—Lee Dong-hyeon—was nowhere to be seen.

"Knew it. Told you it was a bad sign. That’s why people say don’t enter after a schedule delay."

Kang Gu-cheol may be a scumbag, but at least out here, he’s a decent laborer.

To smile without drugs after what we just saw—that’s something.

A minor incident occurred.

A woman with disheveled hair and torn clothes was pleading with a soldier.

Cha Eun-chae.

Her face was so swollen and bruised I almost didn’t recognize her.

From the looks of it, she’d suffered greatly during the short chaos.

Kang Gu-cheol muttered,

"She must’ve thought sticking with kids her age would keep her safe. Dumbest thing. Your own age group’s always the filthiest. She should’ve stuck with us. At least I don’t punch women in the face."

The soldier ignored her pleas.

She collapsed and sobbed, but no one offered comfort.

Eventually, she returned silently to our vehicle.

She looked at me with a face full of blame, but said nothing—just stared.

Kang Gu-cheol grinned and joked,

"Welcome back."

I turned to Jo Yong-gu in the driver’s seat.

"Does this happen often?"

He raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

"Now and then. But that girl... really unlucky."

He added with a bitter smile,

"She brought it on herself. I told her none of the guys working here are good news. Should’ve quit while she could. But no—she assumed since nothing happened the first few times, nothing ever would."

But this wasn’t over yet.

Behind us, the monster still stood—its withered stalk-like tentacles swaying gently.

It showed no intent to attack now, but who knows—maybe it would chase us again.

"······."

For a moment, I had a thought that sounded like me.

I want to kill that bastard.

But not now.

"Let’s go."

The soldiers urged us forward.

With many seats now empty, the trains sluggishly creaked down the tracks, deeper into the endless gray.

I glanced at the rearview mirror.

Cha Eun-chae, slumped like just another box in the cargo bed, reached for a book on the floor.

[The Savior Kang Han-min, in Comics! Vol. 1]

Her lips moved.

There was no doubt what name she was mouthing:

The Savior.