Don't Close Your Eyes

Lee Si-a couldn't trust her own eyes. Bizarre statues stood on their heads in the middle of the gymnasium, faces pointed at the floor — things that had no business existing in a place like this. And there wasn't just one of them. Five of the creatures stood in a line.

She knew exactly what they were.

Lee Si-a swallowed hard and forced her eyes wide, locking them on the H-174s.

Of all the times to run into these things.

You needed at least two people to deal with H-174. You took turns blinking so one of you could always keep watch while the other ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ran, or did something useful. But right now, she was alone. Worse, none of the equipment she had on her could neutralize them. Her heart ached like it was about to burst.

She kept her gaze fixed on the statues, forcing herself to stay calm. Already, the corners of her eyes were starting to sting.

"Hahh... hahh..."

She steadied her ragged breathing and thought it through. It wasn't like there was no way to handle H-174 alone. You closed one eye at a time, alternating. The critical part: you had to open the first eye before you closed the second. Always one eye open. No exceptions.

Lee Si-a entered a staring contest where a single mistake meant death.

She eased backward, deliberately widening her field of view. As long as the H-174s stayed inside her vision, they wouldn't move. She needed that extra peripheral space to find another way out. But the only exit — the emergency door — had one of them planted right in front of it.

Smash a window and run for it?

No. The instant I break the glass and turn to flee, my vision gets blocked. By then my head would already be off my shoulders.

"A way out. There's got to be a way..."

Drip.

Something wet touched the corner of her open eye. Her vision flooded red in an instant. Blood from the gash on her forehead had run down and seeped straight into her eye.

"Ah."

The world went dark. She closed her eyes.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to die like this? This easily?

But something was wrong. She'd closed her eyes — she was sure of it — and yet nothing hurt. She was completely unharmed.

Screeeeeech!

Instead, all she heard was a grating, nerve-shredding noise, like metal scraping across a steel plate. She cracked her eyes open.

"Huh?"

The H-174s were writhing against a translucent blue barrier, grinding their bodies against it. And standing in front of them was a familiar silhouette — Han Mir's back, cast in shadow by the sunlight streaming in.

"H-Han Mir?"

"Oh, we meet again. Good to see you."

Han Mir grinned and gave her a little wave. Relief hit her so hard her legs gave out. She sank to the floor.

"Haaaah..."

Someone who showed up at the last possible second and pulled you out of a death trap. That was a hero, through and through. Then she snapped back to herself.

"Don't close your eyes! That's—"

"I know."

"Huh? W-wait, what do you mean you—"

Han Mir left her behind and strode toward the statues.

The boy thought. Why? Why the hell are these things here?

The statues looked different on the outside, but the energy coming off them was painfully familiar.

He slowly closed his eyes. Even now, shutting them brought that day back in perfect, brutal clarity.

A quiet village, and then catastrophe. Blood everywhere. Victims standing rigid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as statues, their heads ripped off along with their entire spinal columns. All except one survivor. And even that last one died with his head torn off, trying to shield the family members who had already turned into monsters.

It had been early days — only Eris and Shurun in the party. One wrong move and they all would have died.

Han Mir's mood soured considerably.

The barrier dropped.

The statues lunged with a sound like the air itself tearing apart. They stretched their legs out like arms and charged at blinding speed. Han Mir stood perfectly still. He waited until their legs reached for his throat.

BOOM!!!

He exploded into motion faster than they were, driving a spinning back kick into the lead statue's gut and shattering it to pieces. In the same breath he threw both arms wide and pulverized the two coming in behind it with his fists.

Combat was like a turn-based game — every action created an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opening in the recoil. Even Han Mir wasn't exempt. He'd dropped three of them in the blink of an eye, but he couldn't stop the H-174 that was already going for his neck.

CRACK!

The H-174 poured every ounce of force it had into ripping Han Mir's head off, joints popping and grinding. Instead, cracks spiderwebbed through the legs doing the pulling. The statue was the one taking damage.

"The hell are you doing?"

Han Mir cracked his eyes open. A chilling light flashed in his pupils. His leg moved like lightning. The statue split clean in half and collapsed, the severed pieces twitching and reacting to each other as if they were still alive.

To Lee Si-a, Han Mir's fight lasted no longer than a heartbeat. She blinked without meaning to — and a roar loud enough to blow out her eardrums snapped her eyes back open.

"Eek!!"

Two of an H-174's legs hung inches from her throat. One second later and her head would have been gone. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stumbled backward.

No — she should have been dead already.

Lee Si-a swallowed and looked at Han Mir, who had the H-174's legs locked in his grip. The gymnasium floor and walls were wrecked. Fragments of statue littered the room. The one in front of her was the last of them. Han Mir glanced around, then swung the H-174 like a club and drove it into the floor.

KRA-BOOM!

H-174's body — hard enough that bullets barely scratched it — exploded into shrapnel that sprayed in every direction.

H-174 moved so fast that the Bureau's entire playbook was lure-and-contain. And this guy had just casually destroyed them. Lee Si-a had watched it with her own eyes and still couldn't believe it. Every experiment they'd ever run could inflict minor damage on an H-174. Completely destroying one was supposed to be impossible. And Han Mir had just pulverized them with his bare hands, no equipment at all. She couldn't wrap her head around that kind of monstrous strength.

She watched him brush the debris off his clothes and thought, If Han Mir is a real hero... just how strong are the monsters in the Other World?

Han Mir said nothing. He rummaged through the shattered remains and pulled out a red heart, flopping and twitching like a freshly landed fish.

"W-what is that?"

"Their mana core. Takes a hundred sacrifices to make one of these."

Han Mir's face twisted with disgust. He crushed the heart in his fist. A thick red fluid ran down his hand and soaked into the floor.

"You can't destroy these things with regular hits. The second you make contact, you have to flood them with mana and scramble their mana circuits. That's the only way an attack actually lands."

"W-wait. Are you saying you actually know about H-174? I mean — these statues. You really know what they are?"

"I already told you I did. Why are they here?"

Han Mir nudged the wreckage with his foot.

"So you're saying an Anomaly from the Other World you went to... came here? To our world?"

"Probably. But I'm not sure. The structure's identical to the monsters I knew, but they look completely different. And I killed every last Demon King, so the odds of that happening should be basically zero."

Han Mir thought back to the Demon Kings he'd slain, turning the situation over in his mind. He was certain. No matter how he ran it, he had wiped out all seven Demon Kings with the Holy Sword and his companions. Afterward, he'd used the Holy Sword's power and Shurun's detection magic to hunt down every last remnant. There shouldn't have been anything left that could threaten the peace of the Other World.

So why was a remnant of Degrance — the Demon King of Dominion — here?

If he assumed the Demon King's remnants had crossed dimensions to get here, they most likely moved before the Demon King was fully destroyed. Han Mir rubbed his chin.

"Lee Si-a. How long have Anomalies been showing up?"

"Um, I don't know exactly, but I heard it's been a really long time. I think there was even a similar organization back in the Joseon Dynasty? That's classified, though, so I don't know the details. Why?"

"Not helpful."

"Ugh, harsh."

The problem with dimensional travel was when you arrived. Han Mir had spent five years in the Other World and still come back to the moment he was eighteen. It was possible the Demon King's subordinates had arrived in this world's past. What if Anomalies were just the Demon King's forces — the ones who'd jumped dimensions to survive?

The voice echoed from a corner of his memory. Han Mir clenched his fist.

Bullshit. Yeah, that's all it is. Think about that weird delivery guy. You never ran into anything like him in the Other World.

Nothing was certain yet. Look at any famous work of art and you'd find copycats everywhere. This could be the same thing.

Han Mir lifted his head and stared at the lights on the ceiling. Threads as thin as spider silk. People being puppeteered. An ability uncomfortably similar to something he'd seen in the Other World.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

Lee Si-a shoved her face in close. Her eyes were bloodshot and faintly wet — leftover from standing on death's doorstep.

"What to eat for dinner."

"Pfft. You're something else."

She snorted out a laugh, then suddenly started squirming, fidgeting in place. Han Mir wondered if she needed a bathroom.

"H-hey, so..."

A flush crept up Lee Si-a's usually fierce face. She kept wetting her lips with a bright red tongue.

"What? You gotta take a dump or something?"

"Ugh, no!! I-I just wanted to say thanks. For saving me."

"Heard that a lot back when I was a hero. Words don't pay the bills. If you're grateful, buy me a phone next time. You've got money, right? Get me the latest model."

Lee Si-a stared at him like she couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

"Normally people ask you to buy them a meal. Sorry, but I belong to the government. It's not like I get paid for this."

"What's that supposed to mean? So you were an unpaid hero too?"

"...Don't call me a hero. More importantly, we need to talk about what we do next."

Ksshhht!

Static burst from her wristwatch. Lee Si-a jumped and hurriedly worked the device. It wasn't just a frequency tuner. The thing could establish comms the moment allied forces got close enough.

"Th-this is—"

Lee Si-a bolted to the window and looked outside. O-525 — a special concealment barrier that prevented anyone outside from perceiving what was happening inside — had been thrown over the entire school. On the athletic field, a swarm of special forces operatives was pouring in.

Lee Si-a saw it.

Threads erupted from inside the school like a waterfall, punching into the bodies of the special forces operatives.