A Matter of Choice
I stared at the face reflected in the coffee cup before me.
It was a younger version of myself, still wearing the soft, unhardened features of youth.
"Oppa?"
The girl sitting across from me called out. I recalled her name.
Han Subin. We didn't share a single drop of blood. But in the Shoeshine Unit, such things didn't matter. We called each other Oppa, Hyung, and Dongsaeng.
"Hey, if you're not going to eat that, I will."
A prosthetic arm suddenly lunged from the side, snatching the pound cake off the plate.
The boy soldier sitting next to me stuffed the entire thing into his mouth in one bite.
"You've already eaten four of them, Oppa!"
"What do you want me to do, I'm starving... Ah, if only we'd recovered that supply crate yesterday!"
The boy soldier chugged some water to wash down the bone-dry pound cake before it choked him.
Noh Hyeon-gyun.
He was our squad leader, a year older than me. We had shared a hospital room ever since our physical enhancement surgeries, and we'd spent almost every waking moment together over the past few years.
His greatest grievance in life was that I called him by his name instead of calling him Hyung.
"Let's go back today," Hyeon-gyun suggested.
Subin replied, "Don't you think the Machine Species found it already?"
"Even if they did, they probably left it alone. Those bastards only care about combat materiel. They don't give a damn about non-combat supplies like food."
Hyeon-gyun scratched at the seam where his prosthetic arm met his shoulder as he spoke. It was a habit of his every morning. The connection point was constantly blistered from chronic friction burns.
"Maybe I should ask Mom later..." Subin muttered, transferring the porridge from the pot into a large mess tin. Her small hands moved busily.
"What's that for?" I asked.
Subin looked up. "I'm bringing it to Mom. Her light was on all night again. She probably hasn't even eaten breakfast yet."
Mom.
The word made my chest tighten. There was only one person in our unit we called 'Mom.' Our commander, the one who took us in. The person who became a new family to those of us who had lost our real ones.
"I'll take it," I said, taking the mess tin from Subin's hands.
"Really? Oppa, aren't you a little too obsessed with Mom?"
"My dear Dongsaeng," Hyeon-gyun chimed in, "as your older brother, I sometimes worry that you're a bit of a mama's boy."
I glared at him and muttered, "Shut up."
I stepped out of the house carrying the mess tin.
The morning sun illuminated the ruined streets. It was an alleyway filled with scorched scars and houses riddled with artillery holes, yet the clatter of utensils echoed from every home I passed.
My feet moved naturally, following a familiar path. Across the street stood a two-story detached house. The rusted gate creaked open.
Stepping through the front door, a familiar sight greeted me. A4 papers were scattered across the floor, and military uniforms and socks were tossed about haphazardly. The living room, left uncleaned for days, perfectly reflected its owner's personality.
As I climbed the stairs to the second floor, I passed tactical maps and memos pinned to the walls. They were operation names and topographical maps etched deep into my memory.
At the top of the stairs, I stood before the door directly ahead. I took a breath and turned the doorknob.
A woman in a military uniform lay slumped on a large sofa. A custom-modified HMD was pulled over her head, and dozens of cables snaking from the back of her neck connected the headset, her left prosthetic arm, and the wall terminals in a spiderweb of wires.
Suppressing an inexplicable surge of emotion in my chest, I spoke.
"Commander."
When the commander pushed up her HMD, her haggard face was revealed.
Her eyes were unfocused, and dark circles dragged down to her cheeks. Her hastily tied hair was a messy nest of stray strands. Her entire body screamed that she had been pulling all-nighters for days.
"Huh? Juhyeok? What's going on...?" she asked in a languid voice. Her tone suggested she was still drifting somewhere between reality and virtual space.
"Subin wanted you to have this."
I held out the mess tin and a spoon to her.
"Is it mealtime already...? No wonder my head was spinning. Ha, this body has terrible fuel efficiency."
She took the mess tin and began shoveling the porridge into her mouth. Since it had cooled to a reasonable temperature, she finished it in an instant. It was a massive portion that didn't match her scrawny frame, but by Shoeshine Unit standards, it was practically a light snack.
Wiping her mouth with her uniform sleeve, she flashed a satisfied smile.
"Phew, I'm saved. If it weren't for you kids, I might have died of hypoglycemic shock. Tell Subin I said thanks."
I took the empty mess tin and stared at her. A face worn down by exhaustion, fingers so thin you could feel the bone, eyes that were hazy yet sharp, and messy hair fluttering loosely.
Colonel Choi Minseol, commander of the Shoeshine Unit.
Our mother, our commander, our big sister.
Feeling my gaze, she tilted her head.
"Hmm? What is it? Do you have something to say?"
"No... It's nothing."
Fidgeting like someone caught staring, I scrambled to find an excuse.
"Hyeon-gyun said he wanted to go recover the supplies we missed yesterday."
"Ah, the Class I supplies in Sector C? I was actually thinking about going to retrieve them myself. We have to keep our kids well-fed! If you run out of bullets, you can always run away, but if you run out of food, you can't even do that!"
She laughed heartily.
When she was in a good mood, her voice was boisterous, completely betraying her frail frame.
"Do you have anything else to say?" she asked, looking at me intently.
Having run out of excuses, I could only stand there in silence.
After staring at me for a moment, she rose from the sofa and stood before me.
Stepping right up to me, she gently wrapped her arms around me.
"I'm sorry."
I couldn't move.
"I'm so sorry. You kept searching for me, didn't you? I didn't have the face to see you again."
Her hand gently stroked my back.
"But I'm so glad. I'm glad we could meet again."
She pulled back slightly, her face slowly drawing closer to mine.
I dropped the mess tin and slowly raised both hands.
A message flashed before my eyes.
Mister!!! I'm resetting your nervous system right now! It's going to sting, so hang in there!
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!
An electrical signal originating from somewhere surged through my entire body in an instant.
A silent scream tore through me.
It felt as if boiling water was being poured directly into my brain and nervous system.
Multicolored sparks flashed before my eyes, and an imaginary, deafening roar repeatedly battered my auditory nerves.
"Yoon... g-g-glitch-@#$!@#"
The Choi Minseol in front of me let out a bizarre sound and writhed violently.
Her arms and legs twisted unnaturally, and her face rapidly shifted through the countenances of various strangers.
As I took a step back, a brilliant flash of light consumed my surroundings, transforming the environment.
A pure white space.
At the edge of my vision stood a heart-shaped glass tube.
"Pant... pant..."
Mister, are you okay?
CC's message floated before my eyes.
Those bastards injected you with a drug. It's a substance that abnormally activates the visual cortex and the hippocampal region. A hallucinogen. You wouldn't answer no matter how much I called you, so I had no choice but to force you awake with electrical stimulation.
I felt absolutely wretched.
Did I try to hug her?
Me?
That bitch?
"A drug?"
It's a drug that stimulates the release of dopamine and oxytocin. It forcibly induces feelings of wistfulness and longing.
That must have been why.
The only reason I hadn't thrown a punch the moment I saw the commander's face was because of the drug.
I spat on the ground and looked up.
It felt as though my past respect and affection had been weaponized against me, denying the very person I was today.
"Explain the situation."
I've figured out the Cult's method. They use the Aerial Element Fixation Device to construct the avatar the target desires, and then use drugs to forcibly generate feelings of intense longing for that person.
The Aerial Element Fixation Device could track brainwaves to generate an ideal avatar.
The Cult had slightly modified this function to project the likeness of whoever the user wished to see.
At Garden, actual humans controlled the avatars.
Because of that, it required the operator's intuition and conversational skills to match the client's expectations, in addition to the avatar's appearance.
But here, there was no need for any of that.
The person, and even their actions, were entirely generated by the user's own mind.
Longing is a powerful emotion. Especially in a world like this... They kept talking about the boundary between this life and the afterlife, and it really is just like that.
"No."
I looked down at my hands.
Not the youthful hands of my hallucination...
"Afterlife my ass. It's nothing but a cheap hallucination."
There was no way the commander was dead. How could this be the afterlife when a person who wasn't even dead had appeared?
Are you okay? Just what kind of hallucination did you see to react like this?
"You didn't see it?"
I was too busy analyzing the traffic... That's why my response was delayed. But I've located Kim Chang-gyu. We can travel to him through the Aerial Element Fixation Device. Shall we go right away?
"...Let's go."
I placed my right hand on the Aerial Element Fixation Device.
A moment later, with the sensation of being swept away by a tidal wave, my consciousness rode the torrent of data.
Within that digital deluge, I caught glimpses of the desires of the connected users. Someone meeting an idol from twenty years ago, another embracing a deceased lover, someone playing with a long-lost puppy, lovers sharing an intimate moment by the sea.
Among them, I saw Hee-cheol, dressed in a suit, standing behind a middle-aged man. The man, bearing a benevolent expression, faced Hee-cheol and patted his shoulder.
Hee-cheol's face was overwhelmed with emotion, and he looked up at the sky, desperately trying to keep his pooling tears from falling.
The torrent of data swept past him in a flash.
We're here.
Along with CC's message, my surroundings shifted instantly. The sensation of drifting vanished, and an unfamiliar space materialized before my eyes.
It was the living room of an ordinary apartment, neither too large nor too small. Beige wallpaper, somewhat old-fashioned furniture, a wedding photo hanging on the wall, and snapshots lined up on a shelf. It was a typical middle-class home you could find anywhere.
We're inside the illusion created by Kim Chang-gyu.
At the dining table, Kim Chang-gyu sat facing a woman. Unlike the gloomy expression in his photo, a gentle smile graced his face.
"So I asked her, 'Setting aside language, how can pure intuition even exist?' You should have seen her face turn bright red! She couldn't say a single word! Hahaha!"
Chang-gyu recounted, laughing proudly.
"You finally got her back," the woman opposite him said affectionately. She was neatly dressed with a warm smile, her gaze filled with gentle affection for Chang-gyu.
Chang-gyu reached across the table and took her hand.
"As long as I have your support, I can keep winning."
"Of course. I'm always cheering for you."
"Honey..."
"Hurry up and eat. The soup is getting cold," she urged, gently pulling her hand away.
"Mmm, delicious! Your seasoned spinach tastes way better than the taste of victory!"
Chang-gyu laughed happily, looking down at the spread.
That must be Kim Chang-gyu and his wife.
"What is this? Is this his illusion?"
Since this space projects the user's ideal paradise... this peaceful daily life must be the happiness Mr. Kim Chang-gyu desires.
I stared at the happily laughing Chang-gyu.
It was a modest dream.
Yet, a strange sense of dissonance pricked at me.
I scanned the photos scattered around the living room.
They were filled with the happiness of the two of them.
But nowhere in any of those pictures was Kim Ye-eun.
"Does Kim Chang-gyu hate Ye-eun?"
I'd like to think of it as a matter of choice.
"Choice?"
Kim Chang-gyu's medical records flashed before my eyes.
PATIENT:Kim Chang-gyu
STATUS:Metan Public Servant (Calculation Vat)
MATERNAL DEATH
Ye-eun's mother had lost her life while giving birth to her.
Mr. Kim Chang-gyu... made a choice.
In the happiness Chang-gyu envisioned and longed for, Ye-eun did not exist.
A reality with his daughter but without his wife, or an illusion with his wife but without his daughter. Those were the only choices given to him. And he chose. This place right here, the illusion where his wife is alive.
I looked at Chang-gyu, who was eating happily.
"CC."
Yes, Mister.
"We're smashing this place to pieces."