Work Text:
As the sun rises, an ugly streak of violet breaks through the sky. In a distance that is not far at all, the Apocalypse Dragon's Sealing Ball descends, still nothing more than a dark circle at this point.
In the ruins of the 1863rd world line, there aren’t any birds left after starving survivors had torn through the wildlife. If there had been, they would have fled nonetheless, leaving behind the artificial, eerie silence of people hiding from each other. Even the wind isn’t a relief amid the sweltering hell-fire of rubble. It only stirs up clouds of dust, and disturbs the newborn vegetation growing through cracks in the roads.
Opening his eyes to this world, Kim Dokja can already tell today was going to be a bad day.
The main reason for this isn’t anything as insignificant as the weather, or the heat, or anything else. Instead, it's the conspicuous absence of one regressor that builds a sense of doom within Kim Dokja’s chest.
After a few days in the 1863rd worldline, Kim Dokja can now assuredly say that he’s never been more stressed out in his life. The allure of closing his eyes and snatching a few more moments of rest is tempting, as is the warmth from the black coat thrown over him as a haphazard blanket.
But sleeping isn’t going to make Yoo Joonghyuk un-missing. Kim Dokja gets up, only a little reluctant.
Looking around the makeshift campsite he and the regressor (...well, it was mainly him, to be honest) had made, he’s relieved to find that all of their supplies are still intact. Two flowers, glowing faintly, are dutifully sucking up water through their stems, standing proudly in crumpled plastic bottles. Without realising he’s awake, they continue muttering to each other. The few water canteens and the odd dagger are all in their place, with only Yoo Joonghyuk himself missing.
Of course, that’s a bigger issue than a stolen knife. That’s like waking up and finding yourself with your ‘tamed’ wolf missing, its torn leash dangling from an abandoned post.
Yoo Joonghyuk gaining some sentience back is technically manageable, but it also means he’s more liable to be wary of Kim Dokja. No matter how developed his skills are, Kim Dokja can never be a real match for the protagonist of Ways of Survival. Hell, he’d be hard pressed to find anybody from any worldline that could beat this Yoo Joonghyuk. There’s a reason the author had to nerf him with regression depression—the world would be scraps of dirt and water if Yoo Joonghyuk was left unchecked.
But a wolf, wild or tamed, will always leave tracks in the snow. There’s the sudden metallic crashing sound of a sword beating something, jolting Kim Dokja out of his sleepy haze.
Back to work, he thinks grimly. Washing up means sacrificing one of their precious water canteens, but Kim Dokja appreciates any chance to delay the confrontation.
Icy water sends a final shock into Kim Dokja’s system, which kickstarts the rest of his brain into thinking. He splashes some over his hands and his face, before chugging the rest.
In all likelihood, Yoo Joonghyuk was probably provoked by something and had gone off to chase it mindlessly. If not, then by someone, which is worse. The big players at this stage would be lying low until the next scenario, so somebody straying from that tacit agreement to leave and be left alone means that something else is at play here. Unused to this worldline as he is, Kim Dokja is still trying to catch up. Are any dangerous incarnations still alive?
Ah, whatever, he thinks to himself. He can’t have gone too far if I can still hear him.
As if on cue, Yoo Joonghyuk’s sword slams against something else. Kim Dokja brushes the dirt from his clothes and slings the black coat over his shoulder, before heading off in the direction of all the sudden clamoring.
Each step he takes seems to stir up another cloud of dust, as if all the skyscrapers of Seoul have crumbled into ashes. Kim Dokja’s half-inclined to believe it. If all the destroyed walls around him were built back up again, would he recognize this street? Is this the same city he grew up in, worked in, would have died in? Back in the 3rd worldline, is his Yoo Joonghyuk walking down this same street?
He shakes that out of his head, brows furrowing. What is he thinking about? Yoo Joonghyuk is just around the corner, he can’t delay it anymore.
As Kim Dokja draws closer, the sound of thundering footsteps and the scrape of a blade reaches an all-time high, and he finally finds the missing regressor running around an… abandoned clothing store? There’s a mannequin that he’s absolutely shredding to ribbons with steady, focused movements, so Kim Dokja assumes so.
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he calls, watching how the protagonist instantly whirls around.
For an instant, Yoo Joonghyuk’s face is a mask of intense fury. It immediately sends a cold shock of fear through Kim Dokja’s veins, and he grips the hilt of his sword in preparation.
Fortunately for him, the look fades when he registers Kim Dokja’s face. Almost immediately afterwards, Yoo Joonghyuk’s blade falls to his side, his expression back to its unnatural emptiness.
A brief second passes before Kim Dokja finally relinquishes his sword. He sighs, and takes a step forward, handing over the black coat. Yoo Joonghyuk takes it obediently, but doesn't wear it.
Fear still lingers in the back of his mind—Kim Dokja isn’t stupid. If this ridiculously overpowered Yoo Joonghyuk wants to kill him, Kim Dokja will hardly have a chance to defend himself. Prey instincts are only natural when in the presence of the world’s most apex predator.
“Ah, Yoo Joonghyuk,” he murmurs to unresponsive ears. He steps forward and settles a still-damp hand on a tense shoulder, trailing it up until it cups his cheek. Yoo Joonghyuk leans into it a tiny fraction, and Kim Dokja, despite his knowledge of how dangerous and capable this man truly is, is bowled over by a crashing wave of sadness. “What's this scratch on your face? You should have healed by now... it might be a momentary skill issue. I'll check it out back at the campsite, just to be sure."
At this, Yoo Joonghyuk frowns.
Kim Dokja continues, "You scared me when you disappeared. Let’s go back, hm?”
Predictably, Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t respond. But when Kim Dokja turns his back and starts to walk away, he can hear footsteps behind him, following his every move like a heavy shadow.
Kim Dokja, used to having Yoo Joonghyuk walk by his side, is more than conflicted by having this one trail directly behind him, so close he almost steps on the backs of Kim Dokja’s shoes. All the same, he can’t bear the idea of scolding him for something so trivial, so he doesn’t complain. Even when Yoo Joonghyuk does trip him up by accident.
As they walk through the endless stretch of rubble and ruin, the sun continues to rise. The violet has faded, leaving the sky an even gray whose light still doesn’t catch in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes.
Kim Dokja feels the moment Yoo Joonghyuk stops walking, and he turns around cautiously. His mouth is open to call him forward, but his voice stops dead at the sight of the regressor gazing blankly at a screen of cracked glass.
This Yoo Joonghyuk has lived for thousands of years by now. In this round, his body is at least well-into its thirties, which is an age that Yoo Joonghyuk has been multiple times. Rarely did he make it to forty, but rarer still did he stay twenty eight after he’d figured out the earlier scenarios. It shows in the faint frown lines and the stray gray hair, in his weariness.
Kim Dokja is tempted to use his skill to peek into his head, but refrains. Instead, he calls out again, quiet across the jagged concrete, “Joonghyuk-ah, come on.”
Compelled, Yoo Joonghyuk does so. His face hasn’t changed even minutely when staring at his reflection, as he hadn’t even realized what he was looking at. How can you be a stranger to the person you’ve been in a thousand lifetimes? How can you not recognize the body you’ve fought and loved in for all of your time?
Kim Dokja glances around the unrecognizable streets of Seoul once more. In the end, destruction ruins all memories.
He thinks, fleetingly, of his own Yoo Joonghyuk, and the fierce life in his heart that burns through every pore in his skin.
Instead of choking on that thought, he starts idly chattering about a story of how Lee Jihye and Lee Hyunsung tried to convince somebody they were siblings for extra food rations.
Whilst Kim Dokja can’t see him, he knows Yoo Joonghyuk’s isn’t listening to anything he’s saying.
Guess they’ve both got that in common, he sighs in his heart, before launching into more detail in how Lee Jihye insisted that the birthmarks on Lee Hyunsung’s arm and her leg were proof of being related.
It’s actually a hilarious memory, but Kim Dokja’s too awkward for good storytelling. It doesn’t really matter in the end, though. Anything he says distracts Yoo Joonghyuk from his regression depression, but he doesn’t register the words.
He’s just reached the part where the person dealing the rations demanded to see a family picture of the two, when the campsite is finally within view. Without hesitation, Yoo Joonghyuk hastens his pace and flops down heavily atop their shitty blanket-cum-bedroll set up.
Overhead, the day has only just started. The sun has cracked open the shell of dawn and emerges, weak and pale in the dismal sky. Heat doesn’t reach anyone, but light casts shadows over the land, as if afraid to let go of the night.
They could be gathering more resources, or discussing things with the peculiar Han Sooyoung of this round, but Kim Dokja gives in again when he sees how Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flutter shut when he pats his head gently.
Kim Dokja’s hand settles in his hair for a moment, and he decides to indulge himself in petting him a little more. His own Yoo Joonghyuk would never allow this, so it’s only fair to take advantage of this docile version who quietly lets him do as he wills.
His eyes crinkle into a helpless smile when Yoo Joonghyuk’s breathing slows into an even, deep rhythm that pulls and flows, his face smoothing over, save for a minute frown that even sleep can’t seem to dispel. No matter, though. With Kim Dokja here, there’s little that can disturb Yoo Joonghyuk’s rest for now.
Around them, the dust of Seoul finally settles.
This world’s Han Sooyoung is a little more hardened than the one from Kim Dokja’s world. She’s harsh enough to say, “You should be a little more worried about what will happen if that guy wakes up.”
They’re watching Yoo Joonghyuk sit in the corner of the room. When he’s not busy wandering off to destroy store mannequins, his favourite pastime is doing nothing at all. Abruptly, Kim Dokja squints at him and—ah, yes. Still breathing. Could have fooled him, though.
Kim Dokja waves her off easily. “I’m prepared for that. Are you?”
She watches him, analytical in the way only Han Sooyoung can be. It’s eerie to see such a familiar expression on the face of a stranger, but Kim Dokja’s had a little bit of time to adjust to this new world.
“I’m being serious. You’re acting like this is a game, but he’d kill you. He will, after all these liberties you’ve been taking.”
“Liberties?” Kim Dokja turns to her with raised eyebrows. She makes it sound so nefarious.
“Treating him like some kind of ill pet. That’s the most dangerous man in the world, and you’ve got him sitting quietly like some schoolboy. You should already know, but one day, he’s going to blow up in your face.”
Dismissive, Kim Dokja turns back to Yoo Joonghyuk. “Like I said, I’m prepared for that possibility.”
She’s still saying something as he walks over to the silent regressor, but Kim Dokja tunes her out. His hand finds its place on Yoo Joonghyuk’s head, patting him fondly.
“Happy memories,” he reminds him. As usual, Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t react much. To her, “Do you really have time to be gawking at us over here? Don’t you have a team to lead?”
Han Sooyoung rolls her shoulders with a sigh.
Minutely, Yoo Joonghyuk’s head pushes against Kim Dokja’s hand. His hair is so sweaty it’s gross. His scalp radiates heat that makes Kim Dokja’s skin crawl at their closeness, but he pushes on nonetheless, even as the pads of his fingers feel oily.
“Go take a bath when you next get a chance,” he instructs Yoo Joonghyuk, who stares blankly.
Behind him, the scheming Han Sooyoung watches them with a careful face. She locks eyes with Yoo Joonghyuk, but the moment passes when he appears to acknowledge nothing but Kim Dokja’s voice.
It’s a little ridiculous to say that you miss somebody who is, by all accounts, stuck to your side. So of course, Kim Dokja doesn’t say it.
But he’s keenly aware of an odd unfulfillment that comes with every one-sided conversation he has with this world’s Yoo Joonghyuk. It’s to the point where he even imagines the response of his own fully-awake Yoo Joonghyuk in the place of that empty stare.
“Dinner!” he says cheerily, indicating to the can he’s managed to prise open of (most definitely expired) tuna.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t stir until Kim Dokja hands it to him firmly in his hands.
I’m not eating this shit, his Yoo Joonghyuk would say haughtily, shoving the can back at Kim Dokja’s chest. Where did you even find this rubbish? It’s past the expiry date by three years! Kim Dokja, are you trying to kill me?
At the ringing sound of a blade being drawn, Kim Dokja whirls around and tuts, “Yoo Joonghyuk, put your sword down. There’s nothing in this area to fight, okay?”
When Yoo Joonghyuk still keeps his sword out, hovering over the ground uncertainly, he goes over to pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, Yoo Joonghyuk. Happy memories only, remember. Happy memories. Put the sword away.”
After a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk obeys. The distant look in his eyes discomforts Kim Dokja. They’re so close together, but Yoo Joonghyuk is a million miles away. Which memory is he playing over right now? One of Yoo Mia and Shin Yoosung playing with a scavenged doll house, or perhaps Lee Seolhwa's battered corpse? There’s no way to know, which is a new, unsettling phenomenon for Kim Dokja.
He’s probably read the scene that Yoo Joonghyuk is thinking of, but he has no idea which it is. On his phone, he could follow along in real time, if he only knew which chapter to open.
Be quiet, Kim Dokja, his Yoo Joonghyuk would snap. You should always be cautious of your surroundings. There is always something waiting for you to lower your guard. Keep moving, don’t loiter for too long.
For some reason, Kim Dokja’s body feels heavier than usual. It takes a lot of effort to crane his head up to look at this Yoo Joonghyuk’s empty face, and even more to pat his shoulder again.
Happy memories, he tries to say again, but he doesn’t have the energy for it. Besides, what good will it do? There’s no point in writing on a wall that nobody will ever see.
Laying on a spread of pilfered blankets, Yoo Joonghyuk turns his head up to the empty night sky. Few stars remain up there, and if there are any left, they’re hiding in fear. Kim Dokja would think he was looking up at the constellations brave enough to let their light shine, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes are almost closed. Whatever he’s looking at, he’s not seeing.
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he finds himself saying.
No response.
In his mind, Yoo Joonghyuk turns around to him, fixing him with a steady, assured gaze. His brow is lowered slightly, questioning and a little impatient. He says, Kim Dokja.
You’re very far away, he thinks he might say back.
Yoo Joonghyuk raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching down. What game are you playing now, fool? I’m right here.
I wish, Kim Dokja imagines being brave enough to admit. Yoo Joonghyuk, I wish you were here.
...oh, whatever. What a strange thing to be thinking about. Somewhere, the Secretive Plotter is probably watching him and assuming he’s thinking about serious, impressive plans, and here he is…
Instantly tired, Kim Dokja says aloud, “Goodnight,” before proceeding to not sleep at all.
This Yoo Joonghyuk does, though, and quite easily. Bastard.
Despite all of this, Yoo Joonghyuk is nice to be around in such a docile state. Unnerving, yes, but that’s a given.
Whenever he encounters some of his old companions, there’s a tiny spark of joy that lights up his eyes. Whilst they don’t notice it, distracted as they are with misplaced resentment, Kim Dokja does.
Even this Yoo Joonghyuk has some chance for happiness, he finds himself realizing every time.
[ Ongoing Scenario (Secretive Plotter): 'End of the Regressor.'
Clear Conditions: The death of incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk'. ]
And every time without fail, he remembers the Outer God Covenant he made with the Secretive Plotter and he feels more and more unsure of himself.
There must be some way to reconcile between these two things, he tells himself every day. Hours, he spends trying to bridge these desires. Keeping Yoo Joonghyuk alive, killing him. Giving him peace, giving him peace.
There has to be a way. There’s something he’s missing, somewhere. If he reads hard enough, for long enough, he’ll find a way.
Before he can delve into it too much, Kim Dokja is yanked away from his thoughts as Lee Jihye runs past the door of the room, snickering without a care. Yoo Joonghyuk’s head lifts to watch snatches of her ponytail flit just out of view of the door’s window, and to hear her laughter disappear.
Kim Dokja glances at the door himself. In another world, he’d soon hear a smooth, deep voice reprimanding her. If he concentrates enough, Kim Dokja can almost hear it.
This Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t speak much. He’s starting to forget what his low, steady voice sounds like. Hell, Kim Dokja even misses the yelling and cursing, that’s how lonely he feels. Even this world’s Han Sooyoung, for all that she snarks and titters like usual, can’t alleviate that feeling despite otherwise being her other self's superior in all else.
No, there’s only one Yoo Joonghyuk that can give Kim Dokja the companionship he craves through and through, and it’s not this vacant man stood a few feet away. It almost hurts to acknowledge—enough so that the Fourth Wall flashes a message he doesn’t bother to read.
Nonetheless, like all incarnations, Kim Dokja has a scenario to complete. He can’t be wasting time like this.
Quickly, Kim Dokja grows to be wary of leaving Yoo Joonghyuk alone with this round’s Han Sooyoung for too long. Even in such a broken state, the regressor is a tool beyond comparison for anybody’s goal. Every time Kim Dokja sees her from a distance, conversing with that blank expression, he gets the feeling that he’s missing something important.
It’s impressive, how decisive and intelligent this Han Sooyoung is in comparison to the other one.
Too intelligent, almost.
There can’t be two schemers working towards the same goal without one of them stepping on the other’s toes unwittingly, and Kim Dokja is walking blindly here. There also can’t be two schemers working towards opposite goals without one coming out on top.
There has to be a balance here somewhere, and Kim Dokja can’t find it.
Against his will, he has a suspicion that he's being outmaneuvered in a game he doesn’t know the rules of. He’s already bad at improvisation when he has a script to follow; this is driving him insane. Back in his round, he is the one with the most knowledge, so to be so behind like this...
Cons of being a late player, he supposes. All the moves have been except for the final, most crushing ones, and all the easy opponents have long since been cleared.
There’s also no imagining the small shifts in Yoo Joonghyuk’s demeanor after every one-sided ‘talk’ he has with Han Sooyoung either. The delay before he follows a command, the extra step that he stays behind Kim Dokja, the way he watches him, silent but no longer as clouded.
He still has yet to wring out the details of her covenant with the Secretive Plotter. Yoo Joonghyuk’s Regression Depression can only last so long in the 1863rd round, after centuries of training his mental fortitude.
In this round, Han Sooyoung seems to have found her own method to forge ahead. Whatever deal she must have struck with the Secretive Plotter, the key to it is with the Apocalypse Dragon from its Sealing Ball, which now hovers above the settlement. Does she want to destroy the entire peninsula, or is she…?
What is she aiming for? What does she want? More than anything else—why does the Secretive Plotter want Yoo Joonghyuk dead?
Kim Dokja leans against the wall he’s sat by, considering the cards laid out before him.
There is a way to end somebody’s life without killing them, he understands.
He’d first started to wake up to that idea when he’d noticed that Han Sooyoung was collecting the five swords to liberate the Apocalypse Dragon from its seal. The dragon swords should, theoretically, be the right keys to successfully free the Apocalypse Dragon to advance the scenarios, but there’s a small issue with the ones that Han Sooyoung has gathered.
Despite himself, Kim Dokja has to give her some credit. Even he hadn’t considered this genius possibility when planning for future scenarios.
Old Dragon Sword Næġling—the sword that failed to slay a dragon. By bringing this blade into the mix, isn’t it just asking to fail at fully releasing the Apocalypse Dragon? Instead, it could be tied to this world and with it, the twisted seal would expand to cover everything on Earth.
How do you make a regressor die? Kim Dokja has seriously pondered over any possible loopholes in the Outer World Covenant he’d made. End of the Regressor. The death of incarnation Yoo Joonghyuk. A regressor can be killed, but he won’t die if he moves onto the next round.
You truly kill a regressor by keeping him alive, in the most transient, minimal form of ‘living’ possible.
In the end, an endless stasis could solve everybody’s problems at once. Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t have to suffer if he was asleep for eternity, right? He’d essentially ‘die’, as would everybody else in the world. The Outer World Covenant could be solved, but Kim Dokja wouldn’t have to kill him.
But being locked away for eternity like this… isn’t it just as bad as being in Regression Depression forever? Stuck in your mind and unable to escape?
This world’s Han Sooyoung doesn’t intend to reach the ■■, but no reader wants to read a story without a satisfying ending.
One day, for a reason he can’t pinpoint, Kim Dokja wakes up a little earlier than usual. When he looks to his side, Yoo Joonghyuk is…
Hey, isn’t this guy closer than he was last night?
Kim Dokja squints his eyes at him. Before he’d rolled over to sleep, he’d made a vague note of how Yoo Joonghyuk was neatly arranged on his back, sleeping in absolute silence like a well-trained soldier. However, now that he's looking at him, Yoo Joonghyuk is definitely much closer than before, and sits up with his face tilted in Kim Dokja’s direction.
…he must be getting paranoid.
Threats, from all around. It’s too dangerous for the wolf to re-discover its claws and fangs right now, but Kim Dokja knows he’s finally out of time.
Outside the window, he can see the white-clad figure of this world’s Han Sooyoung, facing towards their direction. He looks away, gaze instead flitting between the assembled incarnations talking amongst themselves, glancing up at the sky.
Just as he thought, Kim Dokja still can’t leave the woods just yet.
[ Ongoing Scenario (Secretive Plotter): 'End of the Regressor.'
Clear Conditions: The death of incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk'. ]
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he calls.
Shifting against the wall, Yoo Joonghyuk’s head turns minimally in his direction, as though hearing him through a thick fog.
“Get ready to go outside,” Kim Dokja commands him, his heart beating steadily in his chest.
Today, finally, is the day that incarnation Yoo Joonghyuk must die.
[ The sponsor of incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' is looking at you! ]
This person, with the crushing presence of the universe, is now paying attention to Kim Dokja. Their gaze seems to burn with the flame of a thousand stars, making the back of his neck damp and his breathing heavier. Even if Atlas could hold up the world, he would crumble under the weight of this elusive being’s mere glance.
And still, even after one thousand, eight hundred and sixty three regressions, Yoo Joonghyuk’s sponsor isn’t paying attention to its own incarnation. Kim Dokja doesn’t know whether to be honored, or if he should go see if that giant baby monster from earlier has a spare diaper he can borrow.
Their presence… not only is it a crushing weight on Kim Dokja’s shoulders, but it also feels pure beyond comparison, like a cloud from Eden. Terrifying, and untainted. The duality of their power feels even worse than if they’d just incarnated into the scenarios to roundhouse kick him in the ribs.
Kim Dokja wipes the sweat from his brow. Fuck, this is actually beyond terrifying. It feels like all eyes in existence are staring at him and his every move. Who the hell is this being?
No wonder Yoo Joonghyuk is so strong, if somebody this powerful is backing him.
It’s a fleeting moment, but one that resonates with Kim Dokja. Strangely, their presence also feels… familiar?
The final key in Kim Dokja’s plan is Kusanagi no Tsurugi from Peace Land, the sword that killed the eight headed and tailed Yamata no Orochi of myth.
Han Sooyoung, for all that her Predictive Plagiarism and SSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor is useful, couldn’t have predicted Kim Dokja having his own tools. An oversight on her part. As crafty as he is, he wouldn't have come from another world without taking a part of it with him.
Kim Dokja can hear it clearly, ringing in the back of his mind as Yoo Joonghyuk chants to himself, [ I want to die, I want to die, I want to die. ]
Just a small, minimal part, aching and straining, too weak to even thrash loudly against the tide of despondency and misery inside of Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind:
[ I want to live. ]
[ I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. ]
It kills Kim Dokja to hear those hushed words.
[ I want to live. ]
He can’t bear it. The idea that the part of Yoo Joonghuyk that wishes to live, to be at peace in a more meaningful way than endless sleep, should stay unrealised because of Han Sooyoung’s perfect world. That such a hopeful part of Yoo Joonghyuk’s character, the idealistic, bright spark that made Kim Dokja love this character so much, will never reach its ■■.
[ I want to live. ]
Kim Dokja closes his eyes. The words still ring in his head.
Back then...
[ I want to live. ]
Back then, Kim Dokja was like this too. He hadn’t wanted to die so much as he’d wanted to escape the suffering. If somebody, anybody had held out their hand and helped him out of the darkness, he would have been ready to live. Someone who would have said: It's okay, Dokja-yah. It hurts right now, doesn't it? But it will be alright, just hold on a little longer. If he’d just had somebody to hold him, to tell him that there was something worth fighting for, that if he just waited patiently and kept living, he’d be peaceful too…
On that day, Kim Dokja would have chosen life, if he'd only been shown that choice. Today, Kim Dokja will show it to Yoo Joonghyuk—to that tiny, desperate spark that he loves so dearly about him.
[ The constellation, Director of the False Last Act, is looking at you. ]
Kim Dokja almost sneers at this notification, at this feeble attempt to cow him. They’re both constellations, both covenantors, both schemers. She knows just as well as he that only one of them can get what they want today. And, judging by her frustrated screams, Han Sooyoung knows who it is.
[ The world that you showed, does it really exist? ]
Kim Dokja thinks about it, soundless.
He wants to ask Yoo Joonghyuk that question too. The world of TWSA, didn’t that exist once? Didn’t Kim Dokja use that story to exist when he wanted to die, and wanted to die, and wanted to die, and wanted to die? Over, and over, and over again, Kim Dokja had read Yoo Joonghyuk’s story and made it through every precarious day.
Is that what you need? He wants to cry out. Somebody else’s story to help you through your own? Do you need my life to cope with yours? Take it! Have it, Yoo Joonghyuk have it—just live!
That’s what he wants to say the most of all: Yoo Joonghyuk, live!
As Yoo Joonghyuk speaks, voice strange like he's in a trance, the desire of his heart becomes stronger and stronger, audible only to Kim Dokja.
“I want to die,” he says, lifting his sword to his scarred neck. Kim Dokja’s heart sends rapid thrills through his body at the sight, sending him into a near-frenzy only mitigated by the Fourth Wall.
[ I want to live. ] his heart begs, and Kim Dokja could cry in desperation.
“I want to end it here.”
[ I want to live. ]
Yoo Joonghyuk, he thinks, aching in his softest parts, what do you truly want?
A man who’s lost everything in the world—wouldn’t he want to start again? Wouldn’t he want to die and end it all here? Kim Dokja watches the reel of memories that fly before his eyes, of this Yoo Joonghyuk’s deal with the avatar Han Sooyoung, of the losses he's suffered for this ending.
“I want to die.”
Hey, aren’t you scared to die? Aren’t you terrified? Yoo Joonghyuk, aren’t you scared of death? You're a regressor, you've never died before. You don’t even understand what you’re asking for!
“I want to die.”
Everything you have ever suffered—you would lose it here, to spill your life out on your sword until it dries on the ground? You can die but you have still suffered! Nothing will change! Nothing will change! They’re all dead, Yoo Joonghyuk, and you still won’t see them if you die!
“I want to die.”
It must have been difficult. You don't know, but I was there with you the whole time. I know everything you've been through, and I know how much it hurt.
“I want to die.”
I know, Yoo Joonghyuk, I know! Of everybody around us, who else knows but me?! Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Joonghyuk, you bastard, I know! And still, I am telling you, begging you—Live!
Yoo Joonghyuk had aimed that thought at Kim Dokja for a reason. [ The world that you showed, does it really exist? ]
Even if it doesn’t work, even if Yoo Joonghyuk can’t understand him. Even if his voice is too strangled, or if nobody can read the writing on this wall, even if it makes no sense to anybody around them. Kim Dokja cries with all of his living strength:
“It exists!”
Yoo Joonghyuk, that world with your sister and companions, master and friends, that world with me by your side, and an ease in your eyes—yes, it exists.
The wall trembles with the strength of Kim Dokja’s voice.
Then, finally, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes clear up enough to read his hasty, desperate writing.
[ …I see. ] thinks Yoo Joonghyuk. On his face, a placid calm, and so too in his heart.
Before Kim Dokja’s disbelieving eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk begins to… split?
Yes, indeed. With the newly gained skill ‘Avatar’, Yoo Joonghyuk becomes, inexplicably, two different people.
The whispers of a thousand Han Sooyoung Avatars crowd Kim Dokja’s mind. [ If one entity is divided into two exact and separate entities, which one of them can be called real? ]
One who wants to live, and one who wants to die. Which one is the real Yoo Joonghyuk?
Kim Dokja knows which one he wishes it is, but there’s no denying the truth. Yoo Joonghyuk wants to live and die in equal measures; dying was just the easier option. Now that Kim Dokja has shown him a life to aspire to, worth living, the two desires start to fight against each other for control.
He thinks, for an odd reason, about his own Yoo Joonghyuk of the 3rd round. Him, too…? But no. Kim Dokja has been by his Yoo Joonghyuk's side for long enough to read the genuine contentment in his face.
Every other Yoo Joonghyuk, though? When Kim Dokja was reading TWSA, he'd thought he understood Regression Depression, but the truth is that he never quite realized…
One in a white coat, one in black. One in the light, and one in the shadow. The sponsor with the Regression stigma can only bestow it upon one incarnation.
Watching helplessly, Kim Dokja laughs hysterically in his head. Ha, what is he talking about? Only one of them wants the damn thing.
Both Yoo Joonghyuks fly in a flurry around each other, in a display of awe-inspiring swordsmanship and grit. Even if one of them is content to die, he’s still fighting as if to live. Their shared memories and stories unravel in the air above them, and all the gathered incarnations and constellations watch as the glimmer of the words dissipate, swords carving through them.
Kim Dokja is at his wits end, calling out, “Stop, Yoo Joonghyuk, stop!” every time a sword glances too close to a vital part, but he goes unheard. He thinks he'll die of stress before either of them.
[ The incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' has died. ]
It’s only one notification. The other comes after, like it had paused to assess the situation.
[ The incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' has died. ]
Simultaneously, both crumple to the floor, a Splitting the Sky sword through each of their stomachs like a mirrored image.
Kim Dokja’s heart plunges to the ground as he waits, and waits. What else can he do? What... how can he...
Then, like an answer to a prayer:
[ The sponsor of incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' is looking at their incarnation. ]
[ The stigma 'Regression Lv. ???' has been activated! ]
[ The incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' has accepted the intention of his sponsor. ]
Kim Dokja's eyes fall to the ground.
Only one of them chose to regress. The other, a hunched over figure in black, will also get his wish.
The Yoo Joonghyuk whose voice Kim Dokja heard, straining to live, stretches out his hand in his direction, words and symbols floating out of his fragmenting incarnation body.
Without thinking, Kim Dokja reaches back and meets those stories in the air, absorbing them mindlessly as he stumbles towards them.
One of these Yoo Joonghyuk's, the one in the black coat, is closest to the one in Three Ways to Survive in an Apocalypse. The original story written by tls123 ends with him, in this final chapter and regression.
Kim Dokja watches him die, until he finally reaches a place that Kim Dokja cannot follow.
He can't read about what happens next—no, this Yoo Joonghyuk will reach, at long last, his peaceful ■■ away from the story.
By the time he numbly drags himself over, the other Yoo Joonghyuk has fully dissipated, gone to the 1864th worldline. That, too, is a story Kim Dokja has never read before. The book continues, but from now on, Kim Dokja will never see the next chapter, even though it exists. And not the next, or the next, or the next.
The other Yoo Joonghyuk’s body is still here. After all, he died and didn't move on to the next worldline. In fact, this means that there are now two bodies of this ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’. One that will fight through the scenarios from the beginning, and one that will join the barren soil.
There’s a bright light that Kim Dokja slowly turns his head towards. For a moment, he thinks he sees Yoo Joonghyuk in a white coat, walking away with long, confident strides. Then he blinks, and it’s gone.
…and there’s this thing, too.
[ You have cleared the criteria of the Outer World Covenant. ]
“Ahjussi, what did you do when you were gone?” Shin Yoosung rubs her face against his side, still clinging to him despite Lee Gilyoung’s best attempts to warn her away.
Jung Heewon snorts, and mumbles, quietly as if to hide it from him, despite how she looks him right in the eyes, “Knowing this guy, he probably went gallivanting around whilst we were over here, slaving away.”
Kim Dokja gives her a small frown. If only, he thinks bitterly.
“I was helping people,” he tells Shin Yoosung, patting her on the head. The action gives him pause for a moment, but he recovers quickly.
Around the corner, Yoo Joonghyuk approaches their small group with his usual expression of irritation. Laughing to herself for some reason, Jung Heewon scatters to the wind. As he draws even closer, Shin Yoosung also finally detaches herself with a small sigh.
By the time Yoo Joonghyuk is within arm’s reach, Kim Dokja is all alone.
For a second, they lock eyes, and Kim Dokja feels an inexplicable wave of—hesitance? Even with the Fourth Wall, he’s struggling to reconcile with everything he’s seen in the 1863rd worldline.
“It’s good to be back,” he admits, looking around the streets. There’s some rubble and destruction, but there are still definite buildings here. He can see a row of mannequins through a shattered store window, and his gaze lingers on the odd familiarity of them.
Yoo Joonghyuk watches him the whole time, before finally taking another step. This close, Kim Dokja can almost feel the movement of his chest as he breathes. It’s a genuine relief to be back with him and all the others.
“Don’t you dare disappear like that ever again,” he snaps suddenly.
Kim Dokja grins at him. “Of course I won’t. How else will I catch up to your one thousand Midday Tryst messages?”
Yoo Joonghyuk looks, for all that he tries to seem dignified and composed, like he’s about to roll his eyes. Or slap Kim Dokja. “So you read them all.”
“I did.” Kim Dokja thinks back to the hours he'd spent scrolling through the backlog of messages, reading through every part of Yoo Joonghyuk’s day that he was willing to share with somebody who might have never returned.
He feels guilty, suddenly, for the fact that he was willing to stay even longer in the 1863rd turn to help its Yoo Joonghyuk reach the end of the scenarios. That whole time, he had his own Yoo Joonghyuk waiting for him to come back.
“You’re much chattier over text than you are in person. Are you secretly shy?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands relax from fists by his side. “Kim Dokja,” he warns, voice low but not as threatening as it could be.
Kim Dokja is still smiling as he calls back, “Yoo Joonghyuk.”