Possibility

It wasn't the wall. In that instant, the world I was looking at went flying sideways.

My body lifted into empty air. Then my back punched straight through the thin wall.

CRASH!

I tumbled across the master bedroom floor again and again before I was finally, forcibly stopped. Breath wouldn't come. My back and my side burned at the same time. I opened my mouth, and nothing escaped but a thin, leaking hiss of air.

"Oppa!"

Harin came running straight through the shattered wall. She dropped to her knees beside me and reached out — then stopped, like someone who remembered a beat too late that she couldn't touch anything. Her fingertips trembled in empty air.

The pistol had already torn free of my hand and flown toward the kitchen. I could see it spinning on the floor far away. One shot left. And that one shot was as far from me as it could possibly be.

THUD.

Palsigi, fully itself now, came through the broken wall. The hammer was still buried in its head.

I have to run.

My body wouldn't listen. It twitched against the floor like something glued there. Saliva kept leaking from my mouth.

If I stay like this, I die.

The nights I blocked the window with a bookshelf and waited for the screaming outside to stop. The days I stretched the last can into tiny portions and talked to myself just to make it through. The way I spoke into empty rooms knowing no one would answer. And then, about a year after the world ended—

"Oppa."

For the first time, an answer came back from a room where no one was. An imaginary friend who appeared one day. Something I couldn't touch, that no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one but me could see. But from that day on, I wasn't talking to myself anymore.

I endured the pain and crawled across the floor. Fine. Call it insanity. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Harin crawled beside me. She couldn't lift me up. She couldn't shove back the thing coming up behind us. Still, she reached for my back again and again, trying to brace it.

I don't want to die. Not yet.

Every time I drew a breath, something stabbed the inside of my ribs. No strength would go into my right arm. I crawled anyway. Three steps to the kitchen. A distance I could have crossed in seconds on any other day. Now it felt impossibly far.

Palsigi's shadow fell across my back.

WHAM!

Something slammed into my side. By the time I registered it, my body was already airborne. A few seconds of weightlessness, and then I was sliding, slamming, skidding across the floor without mercy.

CRASH!! CLATTER!

This time I didn't even scream. Instead, I arrived right in front of the pistol. Not a reasonable method of transportation. The result was good.

I reached out. My fingertips touched the grip. The cold of the metal came through. I grabbed it.

Palsigi was in no hurry. It knew I was prey that couldn't escape. It came toward me with all four arms moving slowly, taking its time — like it was paying me back for every round of cat-and-mouse until now. That was fine by me. That overconfidence. The more it let its guard down, the easier it was to hit.

When the heavy sound of its footsteps rang out behind me, I turned and met its gaze. Palsigi's hand froze right in front of my face. In my hand, something black and gleaming was pointed straight out. Its body flinched. Intelligent or not, it remembered the gun.

This time there was nothing between the muzzle and its chest. No arm. No wall. Not even room to miss. A metallic taste rose in my mouth.

Click—

I pulled the trigger.

"You monster bastard."

BANG!!

The mana bullet slammed into its body. Palsigi slowly felt over itself, then looked down. The mana round had done its job. It had punched clean through Palsigi's body.

Drip—

Blue blood ran down through the hole the mana bullet had left. It lifted its head.

"In the movies, this is where you're supposed to drop dead!!"

Palsigi's four arms flared open all at once. Twenty-four hours until recharge. I had a few minutes left to live, at best. Its face was fully, visibly crimson now — rage at having been toyed with by a human who was nothing but prey.

I considered throwing the empty pistol at it. I'd already landed the hammer, so maybe my accuracy was better than the gun's.

That was when Harin stepped in front of Palsigi. Between it and me. I could see her small back, both arms spread wide.

"Harin."

She didn't answer. As Palsigi came closer, she shoved both hands against its chest. Her palms passed straight through the rotting flesh. She couldn't put any force behind it. She couldn't grab hold of anything. Palsigi took another step, not even knowing she was there. Its body passed through her arms.

Harin still didn't back down. She reached out again. This time she hung on as if trying to wrap her arms around its waist. Of course nothing connected. Not her hands. Not her arms. Not her thin little body. All of it went through. And still Harin shoved at Palsigi, again and again. Her clenched lips trembled. Tears ran down her cheeks — tears that couldn't even fall to the floor. They vanished without a trace from the tip of her transparent chin.

"Don't come."

Harin spoke toward Palsigi. Her voice made no sound.

Palsigi's arm passed through Harin's chest. The huge hand reached for me, collapsed behind her. Harin spun around and blocked the way again. This time she spread both arms as if to cover me — with a body that couldn't block anything. Knowing better than anyone that there was nothing she could do. She stood in front of me anyway, just crying.

"Harin. Stop."

"……"

"You can't stop it anyway."

Once it was out of my mouth, it sounded crueler than I'd expected. Harin's shoulders trembled, just a little. She still didn't move aside.

"Oppa."

"Yeah."

Harin smiled through her tears. The same expression she wore every time I drifted into a long sleep.

"Want to... play word chain?"

The same opening as before. I scraped together a cracked breath.

"Train."

"...Ticket."

Palsigi's hand passed through Harin's shoulder. She didn't close her eyes.

"Leopard."

"Criminal."

Black claws swept past Harin's face. Those fingertips dropped right above my head.

"Free—"

My throat closed. Harin smiled, crying.

Something only the ones who survive get to have.

In that moment, a notification chimed.

The seven manuscripts I had sent. The Centennial Librarian must have finished reviewing them and started a preview serialization in the gallery.

The notifications did not stop at one.

Comments poured in too.

Donation alerts shoved the comments aside. One Coin. Two Coins. Another Coin. Tiny golden numbers stacked up in front of my eyes. But there was no time to open the shop. Not enough to buy a new gun, either.

Palsigi's hand stretched toward my face.

In that instant, a post I had read in the gallery surfaced in my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mind. Coins are not mere currency. They are crystallizations of possibility. They convert objects of utterly different value from utterly different worlds into the same number, open passages that should not exist, and pass goods and information through them. Given enough accumulated Coins and a clearly defined price, they can make even the impossible possible. That is why Transcendents never waste them, never spend them carelessly. Buying something from the shop is only the safest, easiest way to use a Coin. You don't have to go through the shop at all.

In my hand were the Coins that had just come in. Possibility, sent by readers who had read my manuscript.

Palsigi's fingers filled my vision. I looked at the approaching hand. Anything. Anything at all, if it would get me through this. I shoved my will into the Coins piled in front of me.

For an instant, time slowed. I could see Harin's face — eyes wide, looking at me. A tear ran down her cheek, gathered at her chin, and vanished into empty air. Beyond her, Palsigi's hand was still coming. Slow. But it did not stop.

I can't dodge it.

Again.

Again.

Faster. Please.

The tip of Palsigi's finger touched my forehead. Skin dented inward. Then a sharp nail dug into the flesh. Something hot ran down along my eyebrow. Blood. I squeezed my eyes shut on reflex.

One second. Two seconds. And then—

A burst of brilliant light. I thought Palsigi's hand would crush me in the next instant. But time passed, and the pain did not go any deeper. Carefully, I opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was Palsigi. It was still right in front of me. But its hand wasn't reaching me. Something dark blue had coiled around the wrist that had been coming for my skull. A slender stalk climbed the arm and raced onward, covering the shoulder, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the neck, the chest, and the remaining three arms in a matter of heartbeats. A body dozens — hundreds — of times larger than what had been sitting in the pot. A dark-blue existence wrapped around Palsigi without a single gap.

I knew what it was. The emergency rations I had named a few days ago. It was Miyeok-i.

A notification window rose in front of my eyes.