Three Days After The Incident
Jae-sung stumbled through the slums at 3 AM, with a blurry vision, every step was agonizing.
He wasn't meant be walking, he should in the hospital, even worse he was supposed to be dead, but why would he die when his son was still alive, he had no excuse to die.
The mission had gone south; they always did eventually, what was supposed to be a simple Iron-tier dungeon clearance turned into a massacre when the space inside warped mid-raid, the walls shifted, gravity inverted.
Three hunters fell into suddenly-appearing chasms.
Then the trap activated.
Stone spikes erupted from floor and ceiling simultaneously—designed to crush anything between them.
Jae-sung barely saw it coming, he dove left to avoid the spike but he still got hit, he felt the spike punch through his right shoulder instead of his chest, nice save but what next, he was pinned down.
He sat there bleeding out while his squad retreated; not from cowardice, it was an unexpected necessity. They couldn't reach him without triggering more traps.
"Leave me," he screamed. "Get out!" why would he hold anyone back?, if anyone dies trying to save him, No he couldn't do this
They ran, because their lives depended on them, some had families they had to feed and keep safe, everyone ultimately had a reason to survive
He as a rational man would have waited to die with honor, but what was honor when he had someone who depended on him, to him especially at this moment honor was just a word, he raised his hand, tore down the stone spikes from his own body,
Just as he was about to stand, that too felt like, it wasn't possible, so he began crawling. Putting things literally, death was already at his door waiting for his soul, but Jae sung he refused to give up, his promise was not a joke,
So he crawled, bled, and even fought two Fledgling beasts with one arm while the other hung useless, only through pure will was he able to make it to the exit portal.
Collapsed on the other side, a medical team found him.
His condition was so bad the medical team assumed he'd die no matter what, stitched him up halfheartedly; wasting limited resources would by no means help them, they had hunters with better survival chances to prioritize.
But Jae-sung's body refused to quit, hours passed, his breathing stabilized, more like moving to a slower death rate, his bleeding stopped, but his heart kept beating out of sheer stubbornness.
By dawn, doctors were confused.
"He should be dead. The blood loss alone—"
This was becoming concerning
The only thought in his mind was to see his son, Jae-sung signed himself out against medical advice, he walked, limped, staggered back to the slums
Ji-hye's Tent
"You reek of death," Ji-hye said, opening the tent flap.
"Trust me, I feel worse." Jae-sung leaned against the frame. "My son?"
"Him?, he's been sleeping for hours now."
She examined his injuries. "You need good medical attention, fast."
"I need to see him first."
Ji-hye stepped aside.
Yoo's crib was in the corner, moonlight through the tent's gaps illuminated a tiny form, he was sound asleep,
Jae-sung's knees buckled, he caught himself on the crib's edge, with a sigh of relief he muttered, I made it, I kept the promise.
"How long do you have?" Ji-hye asked quietly.
"What?"
"Before you collapse, Hours? Minutes?"
Jae-sung didn't answer, because he didn't know, his body was running purely on adrenaline.
When those wore off, everything would start coming back at once,
"Stay here tonight," Ji-hye decided. "I'll watch you both. If you die, at least you'll die near your son, I'll try my best to take care of him."
"Thanks for the optimism, I really needed that."
"U're welcome."
She brought him water, basic medical stuff, Jae-sung cleaned his wounds properly, applied antibiotic paste salvaged from pre-apocalypse stockpiles. Those probably wouldn't be enough as the infection had set in deep.
I've got maybe three days, he calculated. Then sepsis kills me.
He looked at his sleeping son.
Sorry, kid, I tried to keep that promise a little bit longer.
Inside Yoo's Mind
Yoo wasn't actually sleeping.
He was in Extras World; consciousness projected while his body rested, over the past three days he had been practicing and already visited eighteen times. With each session, the pocket dimension grew slightly bigger.
Now fifteen cubic meters.
Objects manifested faster his control improved, he already recreated his entire apartment from his past life, the desk, the chair, the bed he'd spent hundreds of nights in, basically everything he could remember.
Even the bloodstain on the floor where he'd collapsed after being shot; he'd included that without meaning to, his personal trauma was to blame.
"Memory manifestation complete," Akasha reported. "Host has successfully reconstructed 847 distinct objects from previous life. Extras World expansion: 23% compared to initial discovery. Proficiency: acceptable."
What's next?
"Recommendation: test biological manifestation. Attempt to create living organisms."
Like what?
"Start simple. Plant life. Host has memories of houseplants from previous residence."
Yoo focused.
Remembered the succulent on his windowsill; the one he somehow kept alive for two years despite forgetting to water it for weeks at a time, a pot appeared, soil, then....
The tiny, green, perfect.
Holy shit.
"Success. However, note: plant is not truly alive. It is construct based on host memory. Will not grow, change, or require maintenance. Static manifestation."
So it's like a photograph? Not real life?
"Correct. Current hypothesis: Extras World cannot create genuine life. Only replicas based on host knowledge."
Disappointing, but makes sense, creating actual life would be god-tier ability.
What about—
Yoo's consciousness jerked, something outside had change, a presence he recognized.
Dad's back.
"Confirmed. Host father has returned from mission. Vital signs: critical. Blood loss excessive. Infection markers elevated. Prognosis: 8% survival probability."
What?
Yoo's consciousness snapped back to his body, he opened his eyes, through his blurry vision, he saw his father.
Jae-sung looked bad.
Pale, sweating, shoulder wrapped in blood-soaked bandages.
He's dying.
"Affirmative. Host father's condition is terminal without advanced medical intervention. Current slum facilities: insufficient."
Can I help?
"Negative. Host body lacks capacity for healing abilities. No skills manifested in medical domain."
Then what do I do?
"Survive, regardless of host father's fate, host must continue development."
That's your answer? Just let him die?
"I am optimized for host survival. Host father's death, while emotionally significant, does not directly threaten host existence."
Rage flooded through Yoo.
In an instant he went through different cycles of rage
Pure, burning fury.
He's my father. He saved me. He promised to protect me. And now he's dying because he kept his promise rather than staying in the hospital.
"Acknowledged. However—"
Shut up. I'm thinking.