“Copy.”
The team members urgently severed the cables connected to their bodies, and with Kapu at the lead, they all slammed into the corridor walls and were tossed about in every direction.
At that moment, Doyun — the only one who hadn’t managed to disconnect his cable — found his body tilting toward the passageway along with Fred.
“Doyun, disconnect the cable!”
The instant Anna shouted in desperation, the pressure differential widened again and the vibrations intensified. Doyun was swept up in it and kept rolling.
「Fred Winber, position coordinates lost.」
The moment one team member vanished entirely from the coordinate display, Kapu — who immediately sensed the signal interference caused by the rift — abandoned radio communication and issued orders through biowatch text alone.
「All personnel fix position coordinates and stand by.」
The team members all stopped moving at once. The vibration noise generated by the pressure differential reverberated through the space as if it would swallow it whole.
“Ugh…”
Doyun, who had finally managed to disconnect his cable and come to a stop several meters away from the others, also immediately checked his biowatch. Only then did he realize something was wrong with Fred’s condition.
「Kapu Adim (S): 8%」
「Anna Meidil (S): 5%」
「Margo Timberly (A): 3%」
「Fred Winber (A): 39%」
Fred was an A-rank Esper whose ability fell under the physical enhancement category. In combat, incidents like this would be laughably insignificant to him — but the problem was that his position coordinates had vanished from the device entirely.
「Fred Winber (A): 48%」
That meant he was in a state where he couldn’t receive Guiding. If his Rampage gauge kept climbing like this, it was obvious something dangerous would unfold.
“Damn. This is supposed to just be a training exercise.”
Doyun muttered, staring at the distant, indeterminate end of the passageway, too dark to gauge its length. His head was a complete mess.
「Fred Winber (A): 4–#@%」
An erratic system message flickered on the biowatch. Soon after, a string of garbled characters appeared, as if the signal had been lost entirely.
「Fr–$$ber @^ —-」
Guiding impossible. Location unconfirmed. If you stripped away the premise that this was a training exercise, this was no different from a death notification. And honestly — no matter how well a simulation was implemented, could a training facility actually generate that kind of pressure differential?
Doyun stared at the end of the passageway where Fred had disappeared. His heart began beating faster and faster.
After fully resolving the rift, Kapu pushed back the strands of hair that had come loose and checked her biowatch.
「Fred Winber, position coordinates lost.」
「Ahn Doyun, position coordinates lost.」
“That stupid idiot!”
When Doyun’s position signal vanished right after Fred’s, she urgently swept her flashlight across the dark corridor, trying to gauge the far end of the tunnel. The other team members, who had fixed their coordinates and were on standby at various points, looked at the Major with startled expressions.
“Anna, what were you doing while the new recruit was disappearing?”
Now that the rift had settled, the vibrations ceased and communications improved slightly. Anna pointed toward the dark passageway.
“He got swept away for a moment by the pressure differential earlier… then he suddenly vanished from my line of sight.”
“Damn it, I ordered everyone to stand by!”
Six of the ten-minute time limit had already passed. To safely open the escape hatch within the remaining four minutes, they would need to use their abilities — which made the presence of a Guide essential.
“No choice. The rest of you reconnect your cables. We need to find whichever of the four escape hatches wasn’t damaged by the rift just now.”
Kapu issued the order with the thought that it was better to just complete the mission quickly and shut down the simulation, in case of any unforeseen accidents.
「Fred Winber (A): 52%」
Doyun pressed forward, groping his way through the dark corridor. His plan was to keep moving until Fred’s position coordinates could be picked up again.
The MILES Gear had restricted his oxygen to 10% earlier, and soon his arms and legs began to slow. With every breath, it felt as though the air wasn’t reaching his lungs, and his heart pounded faster than it should.
「Fred Winber (A): 55%」
At Fred’s steadily rising Rampage gauge, Doyun clenched his jaw. His knees were giving out, and every single step forward required a conscious act of will.
“Got it.”
Fred’s position coordinates finally appeared on the biowatch.
「X-88 · Y-97」
Doyun’s eyes widened. Compared to his own position and the others’ locations, Fred was most likely outside the corridor — pushed out into open space, which would explain why his Rampage gauge had spiked so sharply.
Wait, is outside the corridor actually outer space? Wouldn’t it just be a training area set up to simulate it? How low would the oxygen be out there? Surely it’s not actually connected to real space…
As his thoughts grew sluggish, his calculations slowed and his sense of direction began to warp. With the line between training and reality blurring, warning signs started going off in Doyun’s head.
“Ha, no time to waste.”
Doyun pulled up an interface displaying every team member’s Rampage gauge and position coordinates. After repositioning, everyone’s coordinates except Fred’s kept flickering. Only Fred and Doyun were in a zone near the outer perimeter of the simulator where communications were unstable.
「Kapu Adim (S): 30%, X-17 · Y-09」
「Anna Meidil (S): 28%, X-17 · Y-12」
「Margo Timberly (A): 14%, X-18 · Y-21」
「Fred Winber (A): 58%, X-88 · Y-97」
Doyun closed his eyes to concentrate, and the coordinates on his biowatch converted into points and lines. Two lines extended vertically along the axis of his current position, and far beyond their endpoint, Fred’s coordinates sat in isolation.
Doyun held his breath. With each inhale, his radiant sense spread wide, and the structure of the corridor emerged like a skeleton laid bare. The rounded walls and the space beyond them took shape as faint outlines, and above them, each team member’s wave pattern pulsed irregularly. The higher someone’s Rampage gauge, the rougher and more unstable their wave.
“Reference point: X-24, Y-39.”
Doyun set his own location as the origin. With the central coordinates fixed, the wave patterns steadied, and the entire space came into focus all at once.
Fred’s location sharpened. But the distance was far too great — and on top of that, his wave pattern was thrashing as if it were about to tear apart.
Doyun adjusted the angle by a fraction and guided his radiant Guiding not in a straight line, but along a gentle curve.
“Master Sergeant Fred? If you can hear me, stay right where you are.”
He sent a voice message through his biowatch while his radiant Guiding reached out simultaneously. Fred’s signal briefly bounced, but the Guiding slowly began to travel along the curve.
Cold sweat gathered at Doyun’s temples. Even when oxygen deprivation caused his vision to momentarily blacken, he didn’t break the Guiding. Instead, he simply reduced the output to its minimum.
「Fred Winber (A): 11%」
Doyun confirmed the stabilized wave pattern and opened his eyes. A voice message from Fred came through on his biowatch.
[You insane bastard. Your Guiding is absolutely insane.]
But his voice was breathless, and a short groan of pain escaped him.
[Haa — I’ve got fractures in my back and legs. There’s way too little oxygen here. We need to finish the mission fast or the whole simulator won’t shut down. Please relay my position to the Major.]
On the biowatch, Fred’s coordinates held steady without interruption — while the rest of the team’s kept flickering and dropping out.
Doyun checked the remaining time. One minute and forty-five seconds. Turning back to where the Major was would leave nowhere near enough time to complete the mission.
Having just mapped out the general wave pattern through his radiant Guiding, Doyun began crawling again toward the point where the wave pattern destabilized most sharply. It seemed like he was closest to the escape hatch.
His calf muscles had already given out, and a ringing had started in his ears, but Doyun dragged himself to the escape hatch on the strength of his arms alone.
“Shit.”
Something like a round manhole cover was there, but he had no idea how to open it. Fifty-seven seconds remaining. Doyun contacted Fred again.
“The escape hatch — how do I open it?”
[That thing doesn’t just open on its own. Anna has to use her ability to disengage the lock before it can be–]
“It’s a door… couldn’t I just break it open?”
[I mean, that would work too.]
A slight smile crossed Doyun’s face at Fred’s response. A door that could be forced open with brute strength — to someone from Earth, that was the best news he’d heard all day. Doyun staggered to his feet and pressed his body flat against the manhole.
“Alright.”
He took one steadying breath and drew the small jackknife from his waist belt. He wedged the blade into the hairline gap along the edge of the manhole.
His vision swam from oxygen deprivation, but his hands moved with precision. He found the gap, gauged the angle, and selected the point where his force would go in most efficiently. Breaking and entering was Doyun’s specialty.
“This should do it.”
He bent his knees, braced both arms against the wall, then drove his boot down hard. He wasn’t trying to get it in one hit. Short, sharp bursts.
Krrreeeak–
The metal screamed. One of the fixed brackets was holding on. His calves seized with cramps, but Doyun gritted his teeth and held the pressure. The moment the handle bent even slightly, he caught it and threw his body weight into it.
Clang!
The manhole cover lifted to one side and the latch holding it snapped off.
Twenty-one seconds remaining until mission completion.
Doyun gulped for air and shoved his hand through the gap the cover had opened. Bare hand this time. His knuckles scraped against metal and drew blood.
“Open. Come on.”
Crreeeak–
He threw his entire body into prying the cover back — and air came flooding in all at once.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Doyun threw himself inside.
