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The heat radiating from him was far from normal, but the skin under his tattered combat uniform was unusually soft. Ha-gyeom, having collapsed into her arms, was groaning endlessly, unable to support his own weight.

Feeling the heat from Ha-gyeom’s body, Park Ha gave an awkward cough. She frowned at the sight of the Parrot waving from the stern, but then a sudden gust of wind blew through, and in the blink of an eye, the strangely swirling monster hole vanished.

“…What the hell.”

The darkness that had hung over them like a shadow lifted, and the cold crash of waves returned. None of them had ever seen anything like it, not even Park Ha, Tae-seong, or the Parrot—who had all taken part in multiple trainings before.

“Hold him like that for a minute.”

Just as Park Ha was about to jump back onto the ship, overwhelmed by the burning heat, the Parrot stopped her. Holding someone who had just burst out of a monster hole was nerve-wracking enough, and judging by the look on the Parrot’s face, he had sensed something.

“What? Is there something wrong with him?”

“His energy…”

Unlike Park Ha, who flailed like a bug reacting to a sudden pest, Ha-gyeom just leaned his cheek against her broad shoulder and breathed heavily. Whatever was wrong with Ha-gyeom, Park Ha couldn’t feel it herself, and her sharply defined features quickly turned pale.

“What, are you scared he’s going to do something to you?”

“What is it, damn it?!”

“His energy is unstable. He’s probably sustaining internal damage in real time, so hold him still until it settles. You’re an Esper, remember?”

Since guides could sense each other’s energy, it seemed the Parrot was giving the order based on that. Gi Suh-hyun, too, could feel the whirlwind of energy spinning off Ha-gyeom, and she kept a tense gaze fixed on the rocks.

While the Parrot shouted orders to the crew, Park Ha held Ha-gyeom for just over an hour.

The sky began to turn red with sunset. The waves had become so gentle that the trip back no longer seemed daunting, but holding a body that kept digging deeper into her chest—unaware of its surroundings—was, as a man and as an Esper, a deeply uncomfortable situation.

“Damn it, I think I’m getting turned on!”

At his completely shameless outburst, Tae-seong and Gi Suh-hyun both shot him looks of pure disgust. The Parrot gave a similar look and waved him down.

“Bring him down now.”

Park Ha hopped lightly off the rocks and stepped back onto the ship. She laid Ha-gyeom down in the space in front of the seats, revealing bruises on his face, dust-covered and torn combat gear, and wounds on the backs of his hands. Though his energy was erratic, there was no evidence to suggest the core of it had been damaged.

A proper medical exam would be needed for internal injuries. Still, since he’d returned alive, the training could be called a success.

“Alright. He looks okay, so let’s head back.”

Seeming satisfied just with that, the Parrot grinned and signaled the crew to start the engine. Ignoring Park Ha, who was clutching his groin and heading to the upper deck, Tae-seong and Gi Suh-hyun knelt beside Ha-gyeom.

Even after staring at him for ages, Tae-seong couldn’t sense anything. But Gi Suh-hyun could feel it—however faintly. The calm exterior didn’t match the unrest churning inside his consciousness.

Just as she thought that, Ha-gyeom’s shoulders twitched. He began coughing violently like someone choking—and then, suddenly, he spat up blood. The moment he vomited a mouthful, Tae-seong turned his head and held him upright.

Since neither he nor Gi Suh-hyun were close to Ha-gyeom, they simply exchanged a quiet glance. When Ha-gyeom coughed up more blood, Tae-seong reached into his mouth to clear out the remaining mess.

“……”

Only then did calm return.

Ha-gyeom, now fast asleep, didn’t even stir at the ship’s loud rumbling.

---

Beep—beep—

The sound of the vital sign monitor echoed through the room. Dr. Cha, who had been monitoring Ha-gyeom’s energy levels, looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Baek Sa.”

Baek Sa, his face pale, appeared without hesitation and walked straight to Ha-gyeom’s bedside. He hadn’t calmed down since hearing the ship had docked. His heart had been pounding relentlessly, and now, standing over Ha-gyeom as he slept, a wave of intense relief rushed through him, enough to make his whole body tingle.

“His condition?”

It was a relief to see him in front of him again—but his appearance was anything but reassuring. Ha-gyeom lay there in his battle-worn uniform, his face and neck covered in wounds. Baek Sa could easily imagine what the rest of his body looked like under the clothes.

“The internal damage is worse than it looks… and his energy is unstable. His consciousness is barely registering, so it’ll probably take a while for him to wake up.”

Baek Sa hadn’t expected better news, but seeing Ha-gyeom’s pale face in person made it almost unbearable. Unable to hide his anxiety, he was gently patted on the shoulder by Dr. Cha.

“Still, there’s no danger to his life. So don’t make that face.”

It was an unusually serious tone for Dr. Cha. Only then did Baek Sa let out a breath and rub his face with both hands. He pulled up a chair and sat down, taking Ha-gyeom’s ghost-white wrist in his hand. His body heat was noticeably high—no doubt from the internal injuries.

“He still has a fever, but it’s gradually coming down. Medication won’t be enough though, so you’ll need to—since your compatibility rate is so high…”

Before Dr. Cha could finish, Baek Sa stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. He also lowered the blinds surrounding the glass-walled lab, shutting out the outside entirely. It was only a temporary solution—moving Ha-gyeom to a private room wasn’t an option in his current state, and he still needed medical support.

Dr. Cha, who had involuntarily scanned Baek Sa’s now exposed, well-built torso, asked,

“You’re going to reverse guide?”

“Yeah.”

With blood flooding his organs from organ damage, a typical guiding approach could be dangerous. Baek Sa knew that well. Every movement, every touch to Ha-gyeom’s injured body was deliberate and cautious. Watching him, Dr. Cha adjusted his glasses with a serious expression.

“You sure you’re okay without supervision? His condition…”

“I’ll be gentle. So stop hovering and get out.”

Whether it was guiding or sex, Baek Sa wasn’t new to this. Close contact required undressing, and no matter how unconscious Ha-gyeom was, Baek Sa had no intention of letting Dr. Cha witness something so personal.

He pointed coldly at the CCTV mounted on the lab ceiling.

“Cut the feed and get out.”

“That’s not under my authority—”

“I’ll take responsibility. Just do it.”

Baek Sa had always been calm, allowing a certain level of leeway—but this command was cold enough to send a chill. Dr. Cha, clearly understanding, quickly obeyed and typed on the keyboard.

“If you need help, call. Until then, I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

With a sulky nod, Dr. Cha finally left, moving awkwardly—perhaps still affected by Ah-rang’s attack.

As soon as the presence outside disappeared, Baek Sa turned off the glaring fluorescent lights. He had no trouble moving in the dark.

He removed his shirt completely and carefully undressed Ha-gyeom, peeling away the uniform from both top and bottom. Small, shallow cuts, like those left by thin blades, marked his skin. The bruises and injuries looked like the result of physical attack—yet no previous guide had ever reported being attacked inside an anomaly, which was perplexing.

“……”

That Ha-gyeom was different from the rest was significant from District 0’s perspective—but to Baek Sa, it meant nothing. He clenched his jaw in frustration and climbed onto the bed. As he gently pulled the unconscious boy into his arms, a sticky dampness from sweat met his skin.

And so, without eating or resting, Baek Sa held him for twelve hours.

He checked the vitals periodically, but there was little improvement. His eyelids fluttered like he was dreaming, he let out weak moans, and at times, his grip tightened around Baek Sa’s hand—but he didn’t open his eyes.

Ha-gyeom’s fever was so intense that sweat now beaded on Baek Sa’s neck as well.

“When are you going to wake up…”

Ah-rang had lost all memory after returning from the exploration mission. Ha-gyeom’s was just a training session, not a mission, so it shouldn’t be the same—but Baek Sa had already witnessed too many variables. He couldn’t afford to relax.

He had intended to avoid any intimate contact due to Ha-gyeom’s condition. But when the monitor readings didn’t improve, impatience began to creep in.

Eventually, Baek Sa laid Ha-gyeom flat and climbed over him, bracing himself with a hand on the sheets so as not to press his weight down. He gently aligned his body—chest to chest, stomach to thigh, calf to calf—and pressed his lips to Ha-gyeom’s damp neck. A familiar, sweet scent rose from his skin.