Chapter 1

It was a bizarre dream.

Not that there's any such thing as a dream that isn't bizarre in the first place, but anyway.

Somewhere in the dream, I was facing a truly massive entity.

[My... child.]

The colossal being before my eyes was surrounded by countless lights.

The light was so intense, it was enough to dye even the vast universe white.

However, despite the overwhelming amount of light, it didn't make me frown or squint.

[Destruction approaches from the distant beyond.]

Just what in the world was that entity?

The more I tried to understand it, the more distant and dizzy I felt. I shouldn't rashly try to comprehend it.

Even though I had such a highly Cthulhu-esque impression, I felt no sense of crisis at all.

Was it because I inherently understood that it had no intention of harming me?

[I call upon you to prepare for it...]

No, that's not it.

I had simply come to a realization.

That what it gave me was nothing but a love as vast as the ocean.

That the only emotion it harbored for me was compassion.

Like the emotion a flock of sheep would naturally feel upon meeting their Lord, tears naturally flowed from my eyes.

Ah, so it is Him.

He is truly...

[Answer the call.]

I will gladly answer...

[Answer it. The state's...]

Wait, something is wrong.

[Answer... the call of the state.]

"You motherfucker."

One week before enlistment.

I had an absurd dream.

There is an unavoidable fate for any able-bodied male citizen of South Korea.

Namely, the military.

That terrible den of hellish demons, an Avici Hell where time flows at a crawl the moment you enter.

It's so awful that even the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠French composer Jacques Offenbach left behind a masterpiece of the century titled 'Enlistment and Discharge'.

I don't know how a 19th-century Frenchman managed to represent the stance of a 21st-century South Korean man, though.

Anyway, therefore.

If you're wondering what the daily routine of a man with one week left until enlistment looks like...

"...Ugh, damn it. My head... Did I drink too much yesterday?"

What else would it be? You just drink your weight in alcohol.

Actually, I can't even remember that well; I just brought the glass to my lips once yesterday.

"...Ugh."

My brain feels like it's spinning due to the hangover.

I'm moderately strong when it comes to alcohol, so being overconfident and drinking too much was the root of the problem.

I should have just drank in moderation.

But what's the point of regretting it now?

I must have drank so much that I even had an absurd dream yesterday.

It was an unforgettable feeling.

This feeling was distinctly different from normal dream memories that evaporate over time.

For some reason, I even felt a sense of nostalgia from it, so I retraced the memories of the dream.

And then I realized.

"Ah, fuck."

That the warm and colossal... no, the grotesque and disgusting entity that called me was the Ministry of National Defense.

"Tsk."

My mood suddenly soured.

To think I'd have such a bullshit dream.

The only consolation is that I managed to curse out the Ministry of National Defense right before waking up.

Stagger, stagger.

Perhaps because I just woke up and couldn't see well, my footsteps were precarious.

I roughly rubbed my eyes and headed to the bathroom.

The clothes felt looser than usual.

But maybe because I was still half-asleep, I didn't pay much attention to it.

Well, clothes stretching out happens all the time.

Somehow, my chest area felt a bit heavy, too.

I felt various senses of incongruity, but I didn't have the luxury to care.

I just ignored the awkward feelings and entered the bathroom.

Swaaaah—

I casually rinsed my eyes with tap water.

Only then did my vision return.

And the lady in the mirror looked at me.

I suddenly asked myself.

In modern society, the word 'lady' isn't commonly used in everyday life.

Especially if the meaning is 'a beautiful person' rather than just 'an adult female.'

But the lady in the mirror was different.

It was as if she was born embodying every possible element designed to be loved by people.

To the extent that if you wanted to refer to her, the word 'lady' would naturally come to mind.

If we were outside, I probably would have asked for that lady's number.

It's an appearance that would make anyone throw themselves at her like a moth to a flame, even knowing she is an unreachable flower.

That's how firmly my gaze was fixated on the lady, unable to pull away.

However, the reason I managed to hold onto a shred of rationality was that a question arose.

And why is she inside the mirror?

I'm definitely the only one here, right?

Did I go crazy from living as a single man for 21 years and decide to create an imaginary... no, a girlfriend in the mirror?

It was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an absurd thought even to me, so I placed a hand on my forehead.

It's one of my habits when I have ridiculous thoughts.

And.

Swish.

The lady in the mirror also copied my habit.

Such a chilling thought crossed my mind for a moment, but fortunately, that misunderstanding was soon resolved.

Albeit belatedly, I had come to a realization.

That my own reflection wasn't showing in the mirror at all.

Suddenly, a single hypothesis came to mind.

I couldn't express it in words. My thoughts weren't organized enough for that.

Instead, I decided to do a test to prove my hypothesis.

Wave, wave.

I waved my hand at the mirror.

Then, as if responding to me, the lady in the mirror also waved back.

"Ah, hello...?"

And conclusively.

The undeniably female voice that popped out of my mouth.

Only then did I become aware of the reality I had been putting off.

Damn it. It seemed I had become the lady in the mirror.

"Ha."

A surprisingly high-pitched, beautiful voice.

"Heh, haha."

A despondent sigh burst forth amidst that beautiful tone.

An unexpected situation that couldn't be easily accepted.

After some time passed, I somewhat accepted the situation.

To be exact, I at least understood what had happened.

"I've... become some woman. Right... Fuck."

However, it was only to that extent, so my brain naturally struggled to find a silver lining.

"Right, it's a good thing I didn't become a bug or something... Being human is a decent defense..."

I didn't even understand what I was saying, but anyway, I sincerely thought so.

Just then.

Fwip-!

Pure white wings spread out from behind my back.

And.

I shifted my gaze upwards.

A halo, glowing softly with warm light, was floating right above my head.

"...Son of a bitch."

It seems the dream I had earlier wasn't just a bullshit dream after all.

Or maybe I'm having a bullshit dream right now.

I know what kind of being I've become.

Pure white wings and a halo to top it off.

If I couldn't guess the race with this many visual clues, I'd practically be blind.

I had become an angel.

I can proudly say I've lived an ordinary life.

A healthy son of South Korea, born to middle-class parents with one younger sister.

And fitting for a healthy son of South Korea, I didn't have a religion.

Meaning, I was an atheist. I didn't know if a being called God truly existed, but I didn't have a very good impression of him.

Thus, I remained irreligious.

In the first place, I never had much contact with religion anyway.

So why did I end up like this?

"Ugh. These damn wings."

These wings, fit only for birdbrains, were incredibly inconvenient in many ways.

First of all, they took up a massive amount of volume.

In my already cramped studio apartment, bumping into things here and there became an everyday occurrence.

It wasn't particularly painful, but constantly getting caught on things was bound to be uncomfortable.

Goosebumps naturally erupted all over my skin.

I don't know how my parents would react, but I was more worried about that bitch of a little sister's reaction.

Since she's a total psycho, that crazy bitch might call me a thief and punch me straight in the face.

...Calm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down my ass— no, no. I need to calm down. First, I need to grasp the situation to figure out what's going on.

I immediately turned on my phone.

The familiar fingerprint lock screen. As I was about to place my thumb on it, a question suddenly crossed my mind.

Of course, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just because the fingerprint doesn't work doesn't mean I can't unlock my phone. I can just use the pattern.

But if the fingerprint recognition failed... I would have to face a fundamental question.

Am I really me? If even my fingerprint is different, how am I supposed to prove that I am myself?

A strange tension flowed.

I gulped and pressed my thumb against the screen...

[Unlock Complete]

As if mocking my worries, it unlocked far too easily.

"Phew..."

I let out a deep sigh.

Even in this state, in this mess, it seemed I was still myself.

Feeling a strange sense of relief at that fact, I absentmindedly sat down...

"Ack!"

My wings! They got caught in the door crack!