I stared at him for a long time, speechless.
He had every right to resent me, so I had been prepared to be hit or cursed at—but what startled me was how much more hurt I felt than I expected.
The voice I barely managed to squeeze out came out cracked.
“You may think so, but I’m not lying.”
Ricardo lifted an eyebrow, his sneer still on his face.
“I tried to remember, but I just can’t.”
His green gaze bored into me.
I shifted my eyes aside. His reaction made sense. It would be hard to believe that I couldn’t remember something so important.
I kept my eyes down, waiting for him to speak.
“So why suddenly tell me this...?”
His low voice asked the question.
I lifted my head and met his eyes.
A sharp gleam. A heavy emotion burning inside them.
Without avoiding it, I spoke only the core of it—the reason I had to reveal my identity, to whom I’d already confessed, and why I intended to go outside the Core.
Ricardo kneaded the palm of his right hand with his left as he listened.
The moment I finished speaking, he asked:
“Yehyeon actually believes you when you say you don’t remember why you betrayed them~?”
His voice dripped with scorn.
I swallowed the heat rising in my throat.
“Yes.”
“You’re still soft...”
He let out a small, derisive laugh.
He didn’t erase the sneer as he lowered his gaze. I bit my lip and waited for what would follow.
What else could I possibly say here?
The light grew brighter. The sunset outside the window had faded, and darkness was falling. The ticking of the wall clock grew unusually loud.
The scenery felt colder than usual.
Ricardo spoke.
“Let me ask you one thing...”
“Yes.”
“The Creatures that poured down on Earth—did you bring them?”
He had lost his family in the war.
It was only natural that he’d hate me.
“Yes.”
I looked straight into those green eyes as I answered.
“Not all of them, but some, yes.”
Ricardo leaned back against the chair.
He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb. A cold silence wrapped around us.
Only after a long pause did he half-open his eyes again.
“Why?”
A short question.
“Our original world collapsed. We escaped.”
“To Earth?”
“Anywhere we could set foot on solid ground would have done.”
“So you arrived and immediately started a war?”
I tried to recall that time as best I could.
If I had been a better leader, maybe there wouldn’t have been division. Maybe I could have prevented the war altogether.
Every time I thought that, guilt strangled me.
Even so, I still couldn’t remember the exact cause of the war.
I couldn’t reveal that I had been here for a long time. Yehyeon had instructed me not to.
So I mixed lies with truth and answered quietly.
“I don’t remember the exact reason the war broke out.”
“You don’t remember that either?”
“Yes.”
“Then what do you remember?”
Ricardo let out a scoff.
I could only fall silent again. There was nothing I could say.
The conversation broke off. The ticking of the clock grew louder, filling the space. The chill seeped through the hospital gown and into my bones. Beneath the cold, a burning heat welled up inside me—I swallowed it down.
My heart hurt a little.
“When you say you betrayed your own kind... does that mean you regret coming to Earth?”
His voice pulled me back to awareness.
That sharp gaze was still fixed on me. Within those eyes burned fury and betrayal—and that fierce look overlapped with an image in my memory.
The look in Rei’s eyes.
The betrayal burning in them.
‘No, right?’
He had been crying, sword pointed at me.
‘No, right? Hildebert. Tell me it’s not true.’
“No.”
I shoved the flooding memory into a corner.
Ricardo didn’t move, waiting for an answer.
I didn’t want to lie anymore to a senior who stood there, unmoving, looking at me. I had to hide the existence of the Elders, but I didn’t want to conceal anything else.
Because he was someone who had cared for me, paid attention to me.
Because he was a victim of the war.
“I have never, for even a moment, regretted escaping the collapsing world and reaching Earth.”
Thud!
The blow landed.
My head snapped back and hit the wall. The IV pole shook, and the needle slipped from my hand. Light flickered at the edge of my vision.
It was a heavy hit—one filled with emotion. Nothing like when I’d been struck inside the collapsed building, or when I’d taken the hit from the Green Dream. This shock cut right through me.
Tastes like blood.
I swallowed the blood pooling in my mouth.
After swallowing the pain as well, I lifted my head.
I met the eyes of my senior, standing beside the bed, looking down at me.
Eyes burning cold.
“Heartfelt confession, huh...”
There was no smile on the man’s lips as he murmured.
“Even that doesn’t sound like the truth...”
“Rick.”
The gaze he turned back at me brimmed with betrayal.
“Ricardo.”
“I’ve got no intention of forgiving your sin.”
Why does it hurt so much?
His name came out drowned—in blood, in guilt, in something like grief.
But whatever I said, he didn’t seem willing to listen.
Without answering, Ricardo turned away.
He left the room without looking back.
The sound of his shoes rang sharp and certain.
His back grew smaller. The hospital door opened and shut with a harsh thud. The black suit vanished beyond it.
I stood there, holding the IV line dripping fluid drop by drop, and just watched.
I had no face to chase him, no words to offer.
At some point, even the sound of footsteps in the hallway disappeared.
Can’t breathe.
I inhaled the silence and thought that.
***
“Hey.”
A familiar voice snapped me out of it.
“Why are you spacing out.”
Choi Yun.
My mentor—no longer obligated to teach me—was glaring at me.
Reality seeped back in all at once. My vision slowly focused on my surroundings.
I blinked dumbly a few times before belatedly answering.
“Sorry.”
I had just finished the discharge paperwork.
We were standing [N O V E L I G H T] in the hospital wing’s lobby. Patients in gowns and their guardians wandered across the polished marble floor. Early summer sunlight slid down the marble like water.
The first day I was officially a Black Badger.
I gathered the flood of sensations and walked toward my mentor.
Yun had one hand in his pocket, his brow raised.
“What’s the problem.”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Cut the crap.”
We walked out of the hospital wing and toward headquarters, talking casually.
Yun listened to my insistence that nothing had happened with clear disinterest, then said,
“A guy who might do something stupid isn’t getting issued a personal weapon.”
“Do I really look that unstable?”
“Yeah.”
So decisive.
I rubbed my neck, feeling awkward.
Still, I had every intention of staying alive until I fixed what I’d broken.
Matching his pace, I replied,
“You might not believe me, but I’ve been feeling very motivated to live lately.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant you look like you’d pull the trigger with the barrel under your chin.”
“Hmm? Then that means I should be allowed a weapon, doesn’t it?”
“You’d just end up putting a bullet in someone else’s chin while spacing out.”
He shot back blandly.
“Just say what’s really going on.”
It didn’t come out right away. Explaining it was uncomfortable. I thought I’d steeled myself, but apparently the shock had hit harder than I realized.
I hesitated all the way until we reached the annex.
Only after we arrived did I finally speak.
“I can’t believe I can’t remember the most important parts myself.”
Yun looked at me.
There was no particular emotion in his eyes—dry and indifferent as always, a mix of boredom and coldness.
He pressed his thumb against the door scanner; the annex door opened.
“Traumatic events tend to blur out in memory.”
He said it not as comfort, but as a statement of fact.
“Even Yehyeon doesn’t remember his childhood well.”
“What?”
That bastard Lee Seunghyun.
“He hit his kid since childhood, didn’t he?”
“No. The nanny he hired back then was the problem. Anyway, the point is—it’s not that strange you can’t remember.”
“But I can’t go on not remembering forever, can I.”
“Why not.”
Just like the first time I faced that Mushroom Creature.
The annex was just as cold, the air void of any presence. We breathed in the chill as we walked deeper into the dim building.
“Would anything even change if you did remember?”
I don’t know.
I’d only know after I recalled what I’d forgotten.
Truthfully, I wanted to regain my memories for the sake of my own kind—but to answer his question, that was it.
I matched my steps with his as we walked down the corridor and descended the stairs.
“That’s not a question I can answer without those memories, is it?”
Apparently he found that reasonable, because Yun let out a faint laugh.
“Not wrong.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be issued two swords.”
We reached the first basement floor.
The air grew colder. The lights flicked on automatically, sensing movement.
Yun motioned for me to stay put, then stepped through the iron door ahead. It seemed to be the armory.
If I’d been in better shape, I might have asked to go in too, but right now I didn’t feel like it.
I had planned to request permission to go outside the Core as soon as I was discharged and armed, but now I wasn’t sure I could. Ricardo clearly wouldn’t come with me.
What should I do.
Maybe I should tell the Personnel Director the truth and ask to go with just the four of us...
I was still mulling it over when my phone buzzed.
[Ami: Hilde]
I stared blankly at the message.
[Ami: Did you fight with Ricardo?]
Not fought—became the object of his hatred.
I kept staring at the message for a long time.
Then, slowly, I typed a reply.
[We didn’t fight, but Ricardo didn’t forgive me.]
Even after sleeping, the damage hadn’t faded.
If it had been a distant senior, it wouldn’t have hit so hard. But because it was Ricardo, it did.
When did I get this attached?
As I thought that, leaning back against the wall, my phone vibrated again.
I blinked twice and answered Ami’s call.
“Sunbae.”
[Hilde!]
Ami’s clear voice rang through.
[What happened! Judging by the way Rick suddenly threw out ‘you sure work fast’ and stormed off, things didn’t go well, did they?!]
