Chapter 86: Gate

So-hee stirred, slowly sitting up.

“Ugh, my head…”

Her temples throbbed from being unconscious.

Piecing together what happened, her face darkened.

Black smoke had surged from the ground, swallowing her.

Now she is here.

She stared blankly at her hands.

In that final moment, she’d reached for Ho-cheol, but their hands didn’t meet.

“Ah…”

A wistful sigh escaped her lips.

If she’d grabbed him, would things be different?

Pointless regret now.

Steeling herself, she scanned her surroundings.

A desolate wasteland, like a scene from a Western, stretched to the horizon.

No trace of humanity.

She was the only person in this vast expanse.

Abroad?

The thought didn’t even cross her mind.

And for good reason…

“…What is that?”

She muttered, looking up.

The murky, turbid sky made it impossible to tell day from night.

No sun, just an aurora flickering in cold green and purple.

A wind blew, kicking up dust with an eerie whistle.

Far on the horizon, something shimmered, mirage-like, then vanished.

Everything felt ominous, unreal.

She realized where she was.

This was beyond a gate—a completely different world.

Unable to believe it, she pinched her cheek hard.

“Ow!”

Not a dream.

The reality hit, and her legs gave out.

She collapsed, squeezing her eyes shut.

Sniff—

The pinch stung, tears streaming down.

“Why… why just me…!”

She burst into sobs.

Field agents always faced danger—wounds, death, always in the back of her mind.

But not this.

Stranded alone in a gate, rotting in obscurity—a wretched end.

Not the death she’d braced for.

A meaningless, pathetic death.

She couldn’t bear it.

How long did she cry?

Her throat was hoarse, sobs reduced to hiccups.

She slumped, hugging her knees, burying her face between them.

“It’s over.”

She muttered, desolate.

Gates didn’t always mean death.

Two escape methods existed publicly.

The problem?

Both required strength she didn’t have.

She couldn’t muster the will to stand.

As despair sank in—

“Hey.”

A familiar voice came from behind.

Her eyes widened in shock, but she soon chuckled bitterly.

She was alone in the gate.

Ho-cheol couldn’t be here.

Hallucinating his voice so soon?

At least it wasn’t a monster’s growl—it lifted her mood slightly.

Maybe because she’d just thought of him.

She pressed her swollen eyes with her thumbs, stopping the tears, and glanced back.

There should’ve been nothing.

But there stood Ho-cheol.

“What, crying?”

Arms crossed, he teased.

A hallucination and a vision?

She wasn’t that far gone.

Some gates had unique effects—maybe this was one.

“Wow.”

Forgetting her misery, she marveled softly.

So realistic for a hallucination.

His appearance, vibe, tone, gaze—identical to the real Ho-cheol.

If this fake didn’t vanish soon, at least she wouldn’t die alone.

“Sitting there all pitiful—what’s up?”

The vision approached, offering a hand.

“Get up.”

She hesitated.

“Not turning into a monster if I grab it, right?”

No thanks to that twist.

Her muttering puzzled him.

“What? Hit your head?”

She slowly reached out, taking his hand.

It should’ve been a mirage, but the touch was real—rough, warm, familiar from countless times.

“Got you.”

“Huh?”

Confused, she blinked dumbly.

He pulled her up with a light tug.

Forced to stand, she panicked again.

Something was off.

Even a vivid hallucination shouldn’t physically lift her.

Another possibility hit her.

Trembling, she asked?

“…Is it really you?”

“What, there’s a fake me?”

He frowned, puzzled by her question.

“You were moping because you thought I was fake?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she grabbed his face with her free hand, tracing it slowly.

Her gentle touch grew frantic, hands rubbing his face and hand.

No matter how she looked, this wasn’t her imagination or a gate’s trick—it was the real, living Jeong Ho-cheol.

“H-How?”

Peeling her hands off, he answered casually.

“That smoke that took you—I followed before it vanished.”

Like he was out for a stroll.

She doubted her ears.

Her face twisted with anger.

What kind of answer was that?

“Why’d you come? It’s dangerous…”

Her furious shout faded to a whisper.

She was grateful he came, but what if her presence added another body?

The worry gnawed.

He remained calm.

“Why? I promised I’d protect you if you stayed close.”

He sighed in relief, gripping her hand tightly.

Didn’t miss her—just a bit late.

Proof: he held her now.

She clamped her mouth shut.

Words piled up, tangled, and refused to come out.

Risking danger for a casual promise—ridiculous.

Catching her breath, head bowed, she whispered the one thing she needed to say.

“…Thank you.”

“No big deal.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes.

Her face burned—she didn’t need a mirror to know it was redder than ever.

* * *

Ho-cheol came for her.

That alone lifted So-hee from near-death despair.

Glancing at him beside her, she sighed in relief inwardly.

Her bleak future brightened slightly.

Still dark, but her survival odds jumped from 0% to maybe 10%.

That’s how reliable he was.

“Looks like an unconquered gate. We’re screwed.”

Until he said that.

Her face darkened again.

Ho-cheol, sounding weak?

She asked, worried.

“Is our situation that bad?”

“Pretty much.”

Hands on hips, he answered shortly.

Hic—

Her body jolted.

His serious expression wasn’t joking.

Seeing her state, he added.

“But let’s aim to get out alive together. That’s why I’m here.”

A moment’s lapse in a gate could kill.

Worse than that was despair.

In her state, nothing would work.

His words made her smile faintly.

“Right. Together.”

“First, your phone’s dead, right?”

She checked her pocket.

“Yeah.”

Not just out of range—it wouldn’t turn on.

Most gates’ unique magnetic fields fried electronics instantly.

“My watch is back there too. No choice.”

He crouched, one knee bent.

Placing a hand on his chest, he scooped a handful of sand with the other.

He let the sand fall slowly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Using a makeshift sand timer.”

He answered briefly.

Time flowed differently inside the gates.

Knowing the discrepancy was vital.

He counted heartbeats while timing the sand’s fall.

Adapting to a gate took about an hour.

With his body still tuned to the outside, comparing pulse to sand gave a rough time ratio.

Finishing, he brushed his hands and stood.

“1:5.”

Gate time was five times slower than outside.

The bigger the gap, the worse the strain.

Even with neutralizers, side effects could linger.

They needed to escape fast.

He might last, but So-hee?

Ten days, max.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Option one: wait for a rescue team that might not come. Option two: walk, find the core or exit.”

“No real choice.”

“Yup. Let’s find the core.”

He headed toward the wind’s source.

She followed silently.

* * *

About five hours of walking.

Thankfully, this gate’s environment allowed minimal survival.

Some gates had conditions no human could endure—stacked gravity, extreme heat, cold, low oxygen.

In those, even Ho-cheol couldn’t guarantee her life.

This gate was mild by comparison.

Dry, but with occasional unknown plants.

No sun meant no dehydration worries.

The issue would be monsters in such a tame setting, but it was eerily quiet for now.

The real problem came.

Flop—

“Ugh!”

So-hee, trailing, collapsed with a silly yelp.

I stopped, turning back.

“Say something if you’re tired.”

“How could I be that shameless?”

She hesitated, then asked?

“Just leave me?”

“Not leaving.”

I crouched in front of her, offering my back.

“Can I?”

“Get on.”

Clearly at her limit, she crawled onto my back.

I stood, moving faster than before.

Despite the speed, the scenery didn’t change.

She stared at my neck, muttering softly.

“…Sorry.”

Her hair and warm breath tickled my ear.

“For what?”

“Being a burden.”

“Is that so?”

I thought for a moment.

“Give the same resources to two people versus one. Surprisingly, two survive better, even with half the supplies.”

She listened quietly.

“Gates are aliens. Stress hits hormones, immunity, nerves, even if you don’t feel it. Having someone nearby slows that breakdown.”

I tightened my grip under her thighs.

No way I’d let go.

“Ditching you versus carrying you—carrying smarter for survival.”

“Really?”

She relaxed slightly.

Being useful, even like this, eased her guilt.

“Okay. I won’t ask to be left. Don’t you dare. I’ll follow if you try.”

“Got it.”

She hugged my neck tightly.

* * *

I wasn’t walking aimlessly.

The massive aurora above moved slightly but followed a clear pattern.

Using it as a guide, I headed toward the gate’s center.

Cores were typically there.

With my stamina, I could walk two more days without issue.

But hours later—Night fell.

Or rather, the aurora shut off—whoosh.

I hadn’t expected such a clear day-night shift, complicating things.

Even I couldn’t navigate this darkness by instinct alone.

A short stint was fine, but hours would disorient me.

After a pause, I decided.

“We sleep here. Move when the aurora’s back.”

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