DP Episode 108

Deep Pivot Episode 108

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

The director of IGTS, accompanied by a few researchers, greeted the two men with a bright smile, extending his hand.

“It’s truly an honor to meet you, Director. I can’t tell you how many times I watched last year’s documentary.”

Hee-min, shaking his hand, greeted him with an excited face.

“It’s my honor as well. We’ve only exchanged emails, so this is our first time meeting in person. You’re younger than I expected.”

The director’s gaze turned to Seo-joon. Although the director was elderly, there was a quiet surprise in his still-bright eyes.

“…Nice to meet you. It’s really a special feeling.”

It was probably the first time the director was seeing a no-name from his own country in person. However, officially, Seo-joon was here as a researcher, so he had to be careful with his words in front of the other IGTS researchers.

“Nice to meet you.”

Seo-joon shook the director’s outstretched hand politely. One of the white researchers beside the director then guided them.

“Mr. Donovan hasn’t arrived yet. Let’s head up first.”

The IGTS research base was a hub of advanced technology, equipped with the latest equipment and systems that domestic research centers couldn’t dream of due to cost and space constraints.

Seo-joon, feeling like a student on a field trip, watched Hee-min, who was far ahead with the director, excitedly.

Hee-min, despite carrying thick research papers under his arm and holding a tablet in one hand, was eagerly talking to the director. Whenever Hee-min asked a long question, the director responded briefly. Even from a distance, Hee-min’s enthusiasm seemed overly intense.

Isn’t he a bit too excited…? Seo-joon shook his head. The researchers showing them around were friendly, and the research equipment they’d never seen before was fascinating even to Seo-joon, but he was a little bored.

‘When can I finally meet Eric Donovan?’

As he fiddled with his phone and checked the time, a message arrived.

Cha Yeon-woo
[Lieutenant]
[I’m lying down to sleep now]
[Photo]
11:53 AM

He quietly smiled as he zoomed in on Yeon-woo’s face, captured under the dim auxiliary lighting. Tousled hair, a cheek half-pressed against the pillow, and eyes slightly squinted from smiling—everything in the picture was perfectly adorable.

Although it was almost noon for Seo-joon, it was nearing 2 AM in Korea, 14 hours ahead of Ohio. Realizing the time difference, he responded to Yeon-woo’s message.

Ji Seo-joon
[What were you doing that you’re only going to bed now?]
[Do you think you can wake up and go to school by yourself tomorrow?]
11:54 AM

Cha Yeon-woo
[I couldn’t sleep because you weren’t here]
[I watched a movie alone in the living room]
[It wasn’t very fun]
11:55 AM

[I miss you]
11:56 AM

I miss you too│

Seo-joon deleted the text he had written unconsciously and stared at the screen for a moment before finally typing.

Ji Seo-joon
[Even if you can’t sleep, close your eyes and try.]
[I’ll give you a wake-up call in the morning.]
11:57 AM

Cha Yeon-woo
[What are you doing right now?]
[You can’t take pictures there because of security, right?]
11:58 AM

[I miss you tooㅠ]
[Photo]
11:59 AM

He couldn’t help but smile as soon as he saw Yeon-woo’s face, which was pulled down in a mock crying expression. Seo-joon zoomed in on the poorly lit, low-quality photo to examine his eyes more closely.

They’re really tearful. Even though there weren’t actual tears, Cha Yeon-woo’s eyes always had a uniquely sorrowful look, which only drew Seo-joon’s attention and affection even more.

“We’re about to show you something truly amazing. Brace yourselves.”

The researchers, who had been explaining something beside him, looked at Seo-joon with excited expressions. Pretending to listen attentively, Seo-joon nodded.

Following them up a set of stairs, Seo-joon looked up at the high, dome-shaped ceiling. This must be the building with the round roof they had seen from the plane earlier.

Standing on a bridge that spanned the air, Seo-joon placed his hand on the railing and stared at the white curtain ahead. A female researcher with neatly tied blonde hair spoke excitedly.

“It took nearly ten years just to implement this. And it’s still far from perfect; we’ve only managed to imitate a small part of it.”

The curtain slowly parted and opened.

“……”

Seo-joon’s gray eyes, which had been staring indifferently, were suddenly filled with shock. His boredom instantly vanished, replaced by a direct hit of shock and terror.

Screech. Screech. Screech.

An instinctive hallucination clawed at his eardrums. A chilling shiver ran through his entire body.

In a tank as large as six theater screens combined, an indescribable creature writhed.

What at first appeared to be a grotesque mass of black neural strands took on a form that defied any single description the closer he looked.

A human face? No, a brain, a giant octopus, perhaps a crocodile, a wild animal, a deep-sea monster… none of these fit.

What on earth is that?

“Don’t be scared. It’s not alive. We just keep the water in the tank moving to make it appear as if it’s moving. In reality, it’s just a lump of silicone.”

Seo-joon didn’t know how to describe what he saw.

The creature looked as if all species on Earth had been grafted together in the most grotesque manner, and merely seeing it was a mental shock.

“That…”

He managed to speak at last, but his words stuck in his throat. Facing him with a smiling face, an Asian researcher spoke.

“That is exactly what Sergei Onopko referred to as ‘It’ in his video.”

‘I can clearly feel it.’

The blurry image of Sergei’s face from the video surfaced in Seo-joon’s mind. With a doubtful expression, Seo-joon asked,

“Is that, then, a sample from the Gate?”

“It is a sample, but… it’s a bit more fundamental than the Gate.”

The two researchers glanced at each other and stifled their laughter, looking at Seo-joon with excited eyes.

“Let us explain.”

“We love seeing the reactions of people hearing this for the first time. It’s exhilarating.”

The female researcher stepped aside and pointed to a part of the tank.

“Think of this as a metaphor to help you understand. See the suction cups on that tentacle?”

Following her pointing finger, Seo-joon saw what looked like suction cups on the thin tentacle’s surface.

“If you take one of those suction cups and magnify it a thousand times, inside you’ll find hundreds more suction cups. If you take one of those and magnify it a thousand times, there are hundreds more inside that.”

Magnify a thousand times, take one suction cup, magnify… and so on, like a looped video, the same explanation was repeated four or five times.

“And if you keep magnifying, you find more suction cups. If you take one of those…”

Finally, the researcher paused and made a circular shape with her hands.

“That’s the Gate as we know it.”

“…”

Seo-joon’s mouth slightly opened. The massive, imposing visual of a Gate, which he was familiar with, was so different from the researcher’s explanation that it exceeded the limits of his comprehension.

“Oh, that expression. We love that look,” one of the researchers laughed, but Seo-joon had no energy to care about his own expression.

“…I don’t quite understand.”

“What we see as the Gate is less than 0.000000001% of that being, just a very basic single cell. Each cell holds an immeasurable infinite black hole within it.”

“If what you’re saying is true, that being’s scale is beyond imagination.”

Seo-joon struggled to process the story he could barely keep up with and continued speaking.

“It’s hard to believe that NASA, with so many space observatories, has never detected this until now. No matter how vast space is…”

The researchers laughed, as if they had anticipated his reaction. Despite talking about something horrifying, they were as innocent as excited children.

“We suspect that it’s not a being in space.”

“Rather, the universe is within that being.”

Seo-joon’s gaze reflexively turned to Hee-min on the other side. Hee-min also looked like he had lost 90% of his wits, possibly hearing a similar explanation.

In the video, Sergei Onopko had described ‘It’ as:

No form.

But can be felt.

Very threatening, yet very kind.

Both formless and with form.

Often overwhelming.

Seo-joon felt he now understood why Sergei’s description was so vague. It was impossible for the human mind to fully comprehend such an entity. There was no language other than ambiguous expressions to describe it.

“Sergei mentioned that it seemed to be searching for something.”

Seo-joon looked at one of the researchers.

“Could it be searching for the No-named? Is its ultimate goal to find and take the No-named?”

The excitement on the researchers’ faces dimmed a bit.

“That much, we don’t know. Whether the No-named appeared on Earth due to it, or if it’s trying to reclaim or eliminate them, is mere speculation. What matters to us is something else.”

“The only clear thing is that with the appearance of the No-named, Gates started opening on Earth, and Awakeners emerged as a kind of mutation influenced by the Gates.”

“Like being contaminated by radiation,” the researcher continued, turning to look at the specimen.

“There’s a hypothesis that the No-named act as a medium between the Gates and Earth. After all, regions where the No-named disappear no longer have Gates opening.”

“But the mutated abilities of the Awakeners who are already contaminated remain. Even if all the Gates were to close… they could never return to how they were before.”

The researchers didn’t distinguish between guides and espers. Fundamentally, they were all mutants contaminated by the Gates.

They were just classified into healing or attack types to make them more usable for humans.

For Seo-joon, who met his partner and lover Cha Yeon-woo through this system, it was a moment of mixed feelings.

“So, the No-named…”

Seo-joon spoke in a despondent tone. He already knew from Hee-min that the DNA structure of the samples taken from him and the Gate samples matched 100%. So then, he was…

“…are just one of those suction cups.”

The researcher nodded with a kind smile.

“It seems that way.”

Seo-joon looked at his own hand anew.

The blood flowing under his skin, the ring on his fourth finger, the pulse in his veins, the emotions in his heart, and all his memories. Everything that made up who he was turned out to be just a minuscule part of that being.

An indescribable feeling of helplessness washed over him.

The researchers observed Seo-joon’s face with curiosity. Realizing he had come as a researcher, Seo-joon masked his emotions and nodded as if it were someone else’s affair.

“…It’s a lot to take in.”

Avoiding their gazes, Seo-joon checked his phone, where the photo of Yeon-woo from earlier appeared.

“…”

Turning off the screen, Seo-joon followed the researchers.

One of them pressed a remote as they crossed the bridge. With an irritatingly loud noise, the curtain of the tank closed tightly again.