The Seal of a Cosmic Species
The Sanctuary of the Universe
Mu Beob-sa came shuffling over, patting at the empty air in front of him, wisps of smoke curling from his lips.
"You old-timers, you always light up the moment you set foot here."
"I only like the cigarettes from before the apocalypse. This is the only place I can smoke them, you see — that's the part of it. Anyway, you finally reached the achievement, didn't you?"
"Looks like it."
"And what did you manage to get from the waterspout?"
"Random."
"Random, huh…"
"Even randomness comes in grades. It won't be bad. Achievements tied to a waterspout aren't the kind of thing you can pick up easily."
Won-goo didn't bother mentioning that it was an achievement no one alive could accomplish at this point in time.
"Why did you tell the others so little? Even this — what you earned wasn't just from your Gift. An achievement like that… you should explain such things."
"Explaining it wouldn't change anything, so I didn't see the point. I would have explained it if they needed to know."
"Trust the crew a little more. Especially Hyun-sung, or—"
"I do trust them."
"You'll have to explain one day why they call you 'Sapa.' And why we're moving toward the goal we're moving toward, for that matter."
Won-goo snorted with a faint grin.
"Wasn't our goal only ever the one thing?"
"…?"
"Survival. Surviving this godforsaken world — wasn't that the whole point?"
"Hm. That's not an incorrect way to put it, I suppose."
The sound of the door opening again broke through. The rest of the crew was stepping outside.
Won-goo and Mu Beob-sa stood talking casually in the middle of a boundless cosmic void, as if they were on solid ground. And yet the two of them were, unmistakably, floating at the heart of endless open space.
"Why's everyone coming out? I told you to enjoy yourselves."
"It looks the coolest from here."
That was Jeon Hye-ji.
"Then go look your fill."
Won-goo walked back first, heading through Exit 1 toward his own room.
The rooms here had no fixed locations — they shifted freely — but Won-goo's room alone was anchored in place, permanently special. He was the master of the Sanctuary, after all. The ordinary rooms were more than spacious enough for one person, but Won-goo's was on an entirely different scale from the moment you stepped inside.
A long garden stretching out before him the instant he entered. And Midnight, waiting for him as always.
"Clothes off first. They need washing."
"You've worked hard, Midnight."
"You've worked harder."
"How long was it this time?"
Midnight only gave him a strange, unreadable smile.
"Be honest with me."
"About three years."
Won-goo's expression hardened. Midnight said nothing — she simply pulled him into a long, tight embrace instead.
"I'm sorry."
"You're the one fighting with your life on the line."
"Even so."
"I'm fine. This is the most comfortable place there is."
Unlike the others, Midnight's true existence lay here, within the Sanctuary itself.
That was the real reason she only appeared at night.
Her true role was to manage this place — the Sanctuary itself.
One might think there'd be nothing unpleasant about staying in what was, compared to the apocalypse-ravaged world outside, practically heaven. But it wasn't without its drawbacks, and the reason was simple: whenever Midnight was left alone in the Sanctuary, time flowed differently.
Time in the world where the Trailer existed and time inside the Sanctuary ran on separate clocks.
The only moment they shared the same time was when Won-goo used his ability to visit the Sanctuary directly.
Which meant that whenever he was away, Midnight had to keep watch over the empty Sanctuary by herself.
Waiting for Won-goo, who might return at any hour — or never.
The two of them held each other deeply.
Midnight pressed a light kiss to his cheek, then drew him closer, tighter, and their lips met. Soon enough, the two of them were tangled together.
In the enormous bath, the two of them soaked, shoulders and above breaking the surface of the water.
"How are the new crew members?"
"Good."
"Do they fit your plans?"
Won-goo nodded. Midnight rested her head calmly against his shoulder and ran her hand along his body, slow and gentle.
"I can't tell whether the android's working properly."
"It's working. The food's gotten way better than before. You're doing plenty well — no need to worry. I'm the problem."
"You're doing well too."
"Not much further to the third Milestone Trait now."
It was a lie, told to put Midnight at ease. For Won-goo to actually acquire his third Milestone Trait, he would need to earn far more Coins.
"Already? Barely any time has passed out there."
"Poke stabbed me in the back. Thanks to him I collected a mountain of items, and cleaned out Poke's pockets while I was at it."
"So that's how it ended up."
"So just wait a little longer. Once I get the third Milestone Trait, I'm planning to spend about ten Coins on reducing the time gap. Then you won't have to wait this long again."
"I'm fine even now. Getting to meet you whole and healthy like this is enough for me. If there's somewhere that needs the Coins more, put them there."
"It's because of you that I can hold on at all."
The two of them intertwined once more.
"Everyone rested up?"
"Yes."
"The waterspout's power is dying down. Once the Trailer touches the ground, we head back. You all kept what I told you in mind, I trust. Nothing — not a single thing — goes back with us from this place. It's not for some other reason. Anything taken out of here doesn't reset. If you want the facilities to be just like this the next time we come, remember it well."
The crew nodded vigorously. They looked far cleaner than before, their faces bright with renewed life.
"We're heading back!"
Won-goo shouted, eyes fixed on the monitor.
They returned to the Trailer, and the moment they were inside, Mu Beob-sa spoke up first.
"Everyone, out."
Won-goo sat quietly with his eyes closed.
"I said out, quietly, all of you. Director Gong appears to have business to attend to."
Mu Beob-sa wasn't a domineering man by nature. For all his grumbling mouth, he never interfered much with the crew. That was precisely why, when he spoke seriously, everyone obeyed without a word. Lee Hyun-sung was no exception.
It was a world where quick instincts made survival easier. They all understood that right now, keeping silent and following orders mattered more than asking questions.
Won-goo had completed the waterspout-related achievement, and he was now choosing among its rewards.
Achievements.
Buying abilities with Coins wasn't the only way for a survivor to grow stronger. There were other paths — and one of them was completing achievements.
The ones who had opened the apocalyptic world had their reasons for doing it.
Amusement. Domination.
To them, an apocalypse world was excellent entertainment. And so they needed a mechanism that would let survivors struggle and flail in just the right measure.
Achievements were one such mechanism.
Won-goo had completed countless achievements and collected the rewards. The fact that he could run the Sanctuary of the Universe at this point in time wasn't purely the power of his Gift.
It was because he had completed achievement after achievement tied directly to it.
If the options had been a mix of good and bad, the choice wouldn't have been hard. But every reward on the list right now was good.
Whatever he picked, there wasn't a single loss among them.
Reaching a waterspout-tier achievement really does bring down ridiculous rewards.
Survive 100+ hours within a waterspout.
It was an achievement that was all but impossible to accomplish at this stage of the world. Which was exactly why the rewards were so enormous.
Zarkina's Gauntlet was a gauntlet built on overtechnology, and it matched Won-goo's Gift beautifully.
And yet Won-goo didn't choose it right away. If he'd been alone, he would have — it synergized perfectly with his Gift, after all. But he wasn't alone anymore. Going forward, his abilities and Milestone Traits would likely be chosen for the benefit of the team rather than himself.
So he looked over the others as well.
Kudis's Sight layered special functions into his vision, and more abilities unlocked the longer he used it — a solid choice.
The only problem was that it was useless in the early stages. The first function Kudis's Sight provided was memorizing the surrounding terrain.
Which was something Suwon already did.
That left Won-goo agonizing between the first option and the last.
The Seal of Cosmic Species.
A great reward, certainly — but the element of random selection bothered him.
There was a famous saying across the universe: the number of species in the cosmos equals the number of stars in it. That was how countless species existed out there, and among them were races that wielded extraordinary power through their seals.
The reward would engrave one seal drawn from among those species.
To bear a species' seal was to be acknowledged as kin, and meeting a member of that species in the future could bring tremendous benefit.
But the odds of that were vanishingly slim. The real reason survivors picked it was the power the seal itself granted.
The moment you acquired one, a new ability unlocked — and it could even be strengthened with Coins.
Land a good seal, and an entirely new path could open up before you.
If your Gift didn't suit you, forging a new road through a seal wasn't a bad choice at all.
It's not like there are only one or two cosmic species out there… If it's a Lower Species seal, it won't mean much…
But even a Middle Species seal would open up plenty he could do right away.
If things are getting better anyway, might as well aim big.
Won-goo took a deep breath, tore off a strip of cloth, rolled it up, and stuffed it between his teeth.
Having a seal engraved came with excruciating pain. There were cases where survivors bit down too hard and shattered every tooth, or bit clean through their own tongues.
Come on. Something good.
He selected the Seal of Cosmic Species.
The instant he chose it, a seal of strange design materialized in the empty air before him — and Won-goo's heart sank a little at the sight of it.
It wasn't a seal that matched his Gift. Among the cosmic species, there were races that served under the Machine Civilization, and their abilities meshed beautifully with his Gift.
Seals tied to the Machine Civilization were recognizable at a glance by the gear-shaped emblem engraved in their upper right corner.
This seal had none of that.
Still, that didn't mean it was a total dud. Even a seal poorly suited to him could carry a genuinely strong ability.
He'd have to examine it properly to know what power it granted — but there was a rough way to gauge a seal's quality.
Its size.
Please, at least forearm-sized.
The more powerful the seal, the larger it was — and the greater the pain that came with it. Lower Species seals were barely larger than a small coin, and a seal's size grew in direct proportion to its strength.
And so Won-goo waited, hoping against hope for the largest seal possible to carve itself into his body.
"…!"
The shock hit him without warning.
Like a man struck by lightning in the middle of crossing the street, Won-goo's body lurched — and then it shook, trembling uncontrollably.
He collapsed where he stood, unconscious. Unable to endure even a fraction of the agony.
"Director!"
"Ah, you're finally awake. Honestly, Director Gong, I truly thought you were a goner this time — that was the part of it."
When he opened his eyes, Mu Beob-sa and Jo Mu-sa were looking down at him.
"How long was I out?"
"A week."
"A week?"
"Jo Mu-sa here worked very hard over you."
"I imagine you all did. Thank you."
"What happened, if I may ask? What on earth did you do to end up like that?"
"Business."
Won-goo inspected his body as he spoke. Everything was exactly as it had been before he'd blacked out.
"Jo Mu-sa said that since we didn't know why you collapsed, we had no choice but to leave you as you were. Not sure whether that was the right call, mind."
"It was."
"There was talk of taking you to a Shelter, but the counterargument was that even a Shelter couldn't fix this — so we stayed."
"I take it that opinion came from our own mage here."
Mu Beob-sa chuckled.
"Good thinking, all around. Otherwise we'd have bled money for nothing. Still haven't met a man who died collecting an achievement reward, and you said as much yourself, Director."
"That's right, that's right. But… I've got no strength anywhere in my body."
"You were unconscious for a solid week. Would be stranger if you weren't. What in the world did you receive, to end up like this?"
"Where's everyone else?"
"This is snail country, Director. They went out hunting."
"Snails don't sound particularly dangerous."
"With you laid up, Director, no one was about to head anywhere truly dangerous. Still, Hyun-sung insisted that work must go on, so they set course this way — that was the part of it."
"Good work, Jo Mu-sa. Now help me get this shirt off."
Jo Mu-sa came over and helped him pull his top off.
"Where the hell is it?"
Won-goo muttered, scanning his chest, his upper body.
"Looking for something?"
"The seal."
"So that's what the reward was?"
A nod.
"Director… could it be this? On your back?"
"My back? Bring me a mirror."
Jo Mu-sa hurried off and returned with one.
There it was — a seal covering his entire back, edge to edge.
Won-goo's eyes sharpened into blades.
A Supreme Species!