Farewell in the Transmigration Labyrinth
There was no need to say it out loud.
We had all seen the space shuddering, watched cracks spiderweb through reality itself. There was no need to confirm that the Transmigration Labyrinth was collapsing.
Amid the crumbling dimension, the convenience store flickered into view like a mirage.
We had to leave. No one could predict what would happen if we were caught in the collapse. In the worst case, we would be erased completely. At best, we might be flung somewhere else inside the labyrinth.
There was no way to know. The labyrinth still held far more mysteries for me than answers.
I glanced at the convenience store—the clear exit—then turned my attention to Vertea as she approached.
“Master.”
“Vertea.”
“This unit has secured the spoils.”
Vertea was carrying an armful of items, her small frame nearly hidden behind them.
“This unit has recovered the Jeokjo that Master dropped, the short sword used by the false Master, the discarded firearms, fragments of armor, and ammunition for the firearm Master cherishes.”
“Thank you.”
These were the spoils of the Transmigration Labyrinth.
Twenty rounds of depleted uranium buckshot, a superalloy greatsword, an assault rifle whose purpose remained unclear, and even fragments of the protective suit from the Jeokjo—all items the false Ha Jinwoo had carried.
Vertea had meticulously gathered everything. I looked at the rest of the party.
“Anyone want anything?”
“Finder’s rights, remember? You found them, so they belong to you, Jinwoo.”
“I agree. The short sword is tempting, though.”
If you’re not going to use it, give it to me.
“Oh, me too! Me too! But… you’re going to use it yourself, right, Uncle?”
The superalloy greatsword was undeniably a powerful weapon. Even by the standards of medieval-fantasy labyrinth adventurers, it was clearly valuable. Yet knowing it had belonged to the false Ha Jinwoo, they yielded it to me.
I couldn’t exactly claim I didn’t want it. It was one of the things I had missed most after leaving the military.
I handed Vertea the scabbard for the Jeokjo. She slid the blade home, then passed me the greatsword.
Slipping it into its sheath and slinging it over my shoulder felt achingly familiar. It had been the same for Sera.
“Brings back memories.”
“It does.”
When we first met, I had lost this very sword and had my fingers cut off in the process. I had still managed to subdue my opponent, but even though this blade belonged to a fake, it reminded me of that first encounter.
The long blade, roughly the length of a forearm, was sharp and sturdy. Light, perfectly balanced, with cutting power I had experienced firsthand. A masterpiece. It had been the personal weapon of the super-soldier Ha Jinwoo for eighty-three years before his desertion.
Sera watched me with it.
“I wish I could follow you.”
“...I wish you could too.”
She gave me a gentle smile.
“But I can’t.”
I looked at her quietly. She was flickering now, crumbling away from her fingertips.
“It seems I’m bound to this space. A community of fate, you could say.”
A heavy melancholy settled over me.
I knew she was fake. I had known it even as I drew comfort from her, even as I loved her. Because the Sera in my memories was the same as the one I had lived with.
I searched for the right words as I looked at her.
“...Uncle, you’ll come out soon, right?”
“This unit will remain by Master’s side—”
“Go on ahead. I’ll... follow a little later.”
Through my micro-current I sensed Vertea reach out, then withdraw her hand. A subtle emotion flickered across her usually expressionless face, but she remained loyal. She bowed her head respectfully and retreated. When she was swallowed by the convenience store’s mirage, only Sera and I remained.
Inside the collapsing Transmigration Labyrinth, I faced my wife.
She looked almost the same as when we first met, yet her expression was entirely different.
She was gazing at the fallen false version of me.
“It’s tragic, isn’t it?”
The false Ha Jinwoo had lived only for revenge. Created for that purpose, he had spent eternity torturing prisoners. He never realized the prisoner was the master of this labyrinth, nor did he know how to escape his fate.
“If our positions had been reversed, what would this Jinwoo have done?”
The words slipped out. Sera smiled and stepped closer.
Her hand took mine. She stroked my index finger with something like affection.
I already knew the answer. If I had been the fake she summoned and she the real one, the outcome would have been much the same.
We had lived together a long time. We had known each other deeply.
It seemed she had spoken knowing that. Or perhaps she had said it hoping I would realize it myself.
I understood the words she left unspoken.
If I had been her, rather than grieving and dying together, I would have wanted the other to live on happily, even just a little more.
At least, the Sera I remembered was that kind of person.
Whether the real one would have felt the same, I would never know.
My wife was already dead.
Some things that die never return.
No matter how much you regret, how often you revisit the sacrifice, how deeply you suffer.
The universe does not grant miracles to resurrect the dead.
If it did, that would surely mark the beginning of a new tragedy.
The world is cruel. I knew that well.
Through a life that had not been particularly long by some standards, yet far too long for one man to endure, I knew it intimately.
Even so, I took her hand.
Sometimes, mourning is necessary not for the dead, but for the living.
She asked me,
“How did you live?”
“I lived well. I ate delicious food, took photos of beautiful scenery, wrote in my diary when I was lost in thought... I met people, helped them, and received help in turn. Like a human being.”
The corners of Sera’s mouth lifted.
“What did I say at the end?”
Even knowing she was the Sera drawn from my memories, I answered.
“You told me to live well. No matter how the world tormented me, not to change. Not to abandon the things you taught me. To remember the beauty of living.”
And.
“To remember not Ghost, not the weapon... but Shen Sera.”
I remembered the sunrise we had watched together.
I recalled the silence in which we could hear only each other’s heartbeats.
Remember me as Sera.
The video saved on my smartphone, played over and over.
My scars.
Only then did I realize it.
The Shen Sera who had appeared inside this Transmigration Labyrinth was proof that I had kept her final request, her promise.
The woman who played guitar and sang, who traded jokes while warming herself by the fire, who shared preserved rations with me late at night and stayed by my side.
The woman who loved spicy food, slept lightly, and enjoyed collecting firearms.
The woman I loved—the one who enjoyed taking photos but had secretly begun to enjoy being in them too.
The Sera before me was her last wish incarnate.
When I thought of that, she gave me a look both tender and sorrowful.
She knew it too.
Footsteps approached.
The hotel corridor was collapsing. Even as the blood-soaked hallway shattered into fragments and vanished into the void.
Sera cupped my face with both hands.
Without thinking, I lowered my posture. The movement was so natural, so deeply ingrained, that our breaths mingled.
It was warm.
Despite her low body temperature, her lips had always been warm.
The heat of Sera’s lips on mine stole my breath.
“Thank you.”
Her gentle, curved eyes refused to leave mine. The warmth of her hands on my cheeks remained like a brand.
If this was a dream, I wished never to wake from it. Yet I knew.
All dreams must end.
That after one day passes, another day waits.
No matter how painful it is, no matter how desperately you want to cling to yesterday.
People must move forward.
I placed my hand over hers on my cheek.
When I gently stroked the back of her hand, Sera withdrew it and held something out to me.
The grip of a pistol faced me.
“Take it.”
When I grasped it, I could feel the plastic grip, slightly warmed despite her cool body temperature.
As I felt the weight of the submachine pistol in its holster, Sera spoke.
“See you again.”
A helpless laugh escaped me. I forced my reluctant feet to move toward the flickering mirage.
“...See you later.”
Sera smiled. She kept smiling until the very moment I threw myself into the mirage.
Some memories refuse to fade easily.
This would be one of them.
I was certain of it.
*
The rest was straightforward.
We returned to the convenience store, rested, looted roughly half its supplies, and ate. After that we camped for a day, explored the surroundings, and added details to our map.
There were monsters that had nested inside the subway station, but they weren’t particularly difficult opponents. Most could be dealt with easily using the superalloy greatsword, and they were small groups I could have handled alone.
By the time we returned to Nodeul Island to complete the request, exactly one week had passed since we first set out.
Maribella was probably worried sick.
“...Request complete. The rewards are here... one hundred silver coins each. Everyone should rest well and we’ll see each other later...”
Alice looked utterly drained as she handed me the pouch. I passed one to Vertea as well, and the self-proclaimed doll android asked,
“Ah, Jinwoo. Where should we direct any messages for you?”
“Send them to the Church of the Blood Clan.”
“...Ah, um, yes? The Church of the Blood Clan?”
“That’s how it turned out.”
Alice nodded in confusion but accepted it. Remy headed home to his family, Pon shuffled off somewhere, and Alice returned to her residence on Nodeul Island.
It looked like her place was just a small house attached beneath the stairs.
Once everyone had left, it grew quiet.
“...It got quiet fast.”
“This unit agrees, Master.”
“Yeah.”
Or rather, not everyone had left.
Vertea and I stared at the girl standing right beside us.
Purple skin, stretching with little groans—the demon girl.
She made a confused “Huh?” at the two pairs of eyes fixed on her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“...Aren’t you leaving?”
“Me? Well... Oh, right! I had something to tell you, Uncle.”
What was it? Did she want the greatsword?
Since I had the Jeokjo, she might think it was fine to take the greatsword, but I already had plenty of weapons—
“But I forgot what it was.”
What?
When I looked at her in disbelief, Kiyara simply shrugged.
“Must not have been that important. See you later!”
She waved and walked away.
I stared blankly after the demon girl, then met Vertea’s eyes.
“This unit has no idea either.”
What could it have been?
Still puzzled, I left the area and headed for Guro District and the Church of the Blood Clan.
*
Kiyara, a demon and promising mage.
At the same time, she was not from the Magic Tower or any magic order, but a student of the archmage known as the Scientist, Tilia. She returned to their base at the National Central Museum.
This adventure had been enjoyable. It was full of thrills, offered many chances to test her skills, and yielded numerous discoveries.
She had received one of the armor fragments Vertea had picked up, so the loot was solid. What was worthless scrap to ordinary people often became a treasure beyond price for her teacher Tilia.
Yet the feeling that she had forgotten something lingered.
What had it been? It wasn’t terribly important, but it had some significance.
Tilting her head, she entered the museum without hesitation.
Inside, numerous mages were busily moving about, conducting research, or preparing to end their day.
All of them were students of the great archmage known by the title of Scientist—Tilia.
As one of their number, Kiyara headed boldly for the east wing to report on the expedition.
At least until she froze at the sight of the girl who had just stepped out.
Realization flashed through her mind.
“Ah!”
“...Kiyara? What’s...”
“That’s right! I was supposed to tell her to visit Uncle once!”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
It might have seemed abrupt from the girl’s perspective, but not to Kiyara.
With a sigh, Kiyara looked at her.
Tilia’s top student and the human expected to become the next archmage.
Ha Eunha.
The girl was a “Seoul native,” just like Ha Jinwoo.