RTN 05

It was true. When you asked a Stranger how they came here, most would answer by telling you how they died.

Suicide was the most common answer. For a while, “I got hit by a truck” had been popular too.

And for some reason, those who said it always looked strangely proud.

No one knew why they were proud of dying. Unlike the sadists who enjoyed interrogating and toying with Strangers before killing them, Baek I‑hyun never asked more questions once he confirmed someone was from another world.

Imperial law clearly stated that all Strangers must be executed upon discovery. They disrupted order and destroyed hierarchy.

Still, the ones who arrived with their bodies intact were the easy ones. You could simply wait by the Gate during its opening, and they would crawl out on their own.

The real problem was when only a soul crossed over.

Possession. Usually, they were poor actors and got exposed quickly, allowing the Empire to purge the Stranger and revive the original soul. But a few adapted to this world with alarming speed, spun clever lies, and stole the lives of the people they possessed—sometimes even killing the original soul outright.

Long ago, when the Emperor’s beloved was revealed to be one of the possessed, chaos broke out. The Church reacted by abandoning that route entirely and sealing every related Gate. After that, there were no more cases of souls crossing over.

That was all Baek I‑hyun knew about Strangers.

Beyond the law demanding their immediate extermination, information about them was scarce—and forbidden.

When Baek I‑hyun had dispatched his squad to the Gate, it wasn’t to communicate with the Stranger, but to seize the core sphere they carried, as regulations required.

The sphere was a precious resource. The entire galaxy was at war over them.

“Please look at this.”

Jang Seok‑ju flipped through the charts on his tablet. Three waveforms appeared over a coordinate grid—two gently undulating lines, one red and one blue, and a second blue line that was almost flat.

“One red wave and two blue ones,” Jang explained. “That means one soul but two bodies. One body lies downstairs in the lab, and the other still exists in the other world.”

“So she didn’t die to come here. Her body’s still alive over there, and another appeared here?”

“Exactly. The body we have here—uh, what was her name again…”

He frowned and shuffled through the paper charts beside him. A hastily scribbled name flashed past the page.

Baek I‑hyun read it aloud, unfamiliar with the sound.

“Seol A‑yeon?”

“Ah, yes. Seol A‑yeon. The body we have here is… a copy, I suppose. I don’t even know how to describe it—this is the first time I’ve seen a case like this.”

“A fake, then?”

“Not quite fake. The soul is real, but since a soul can’t cross over alone, a temporary body must have been generated. You remember, we completely sealed the possession-type Gates.”

Baek I‑hyun leaned back slightly in his chair.

“Is that even possible?”

“Not unless the Church intervenes.”

“And if the Church does?”

“Manipulating dimensions is the domain of the gods. And the only ones who can commune with gods are those senile old priests. If those lunatics threw enough money and time at it, sure—they might produce a case like Seol A‑yeon’s.”

“So you’re saying the Church sent a spy to me?”

“Given your position, sir, it’s not impossible.”

Baek I‑hyun’s brow furrowed.

“The Church would go that far just to plant a spy near me?”

“No matter how costly, it would be worth it if they could control you. Think about it—next to His Majesty, there’s no one in the Empire with more influence than you, Commander.”

Jang Seok‑ju straightened up, excitement coloring his tone.

“Honestly, the only reason you were left out of this latest deployment was the Ho‑yeon family’s interference. They’re terrified because you carry on Banh‑ah’s legacy. Those rotten bastards—”

Baek I‑hyun let the flattery wash over him, eyes lowered to the tablet’s screen.

Could it really be that the Church had sent Seol A‑yeon?

Her claim of knowing him had done him no favors.

Whether true or not, it reminded everyone that Baek I‑hyun had been found in the slums, amnesiac and of low birth.

But that was all. Whatever his origins—vagrant or Stranger—the Empire needed him now.

If he took a single step back from the front lines, the Empire would lose the war.

Would the Church really spend all that effort to frame him as a Stranger? That didn’t add up. They were cunning, not stupid—they never did anything unprofitable.

He raised his gaze.

“…Even during that insane pursuit mission,” Jang went on, “if it hadn’t been for you, we’d all be space dust by now—uh, sir, something you want to say?”

“Is the interrogation room open?”

“You’re going to use it? If the Church really sent her, she won’t break easily under torture. Maybe we should try another—”

“The key.”

Jang hurriedly opened a drawer and handed over a key card. Baek I‑hyun took it and rose from his seat.

At that moment, he thought of Seol A‑yeon—the way her tearful eyes had trembled. If that was just an act, he wondered how far human imitation of emotion could go.

He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped.

“What about the other side?” he asked.

“Sir?”

“The real body of Seol A‑yeon, in her original world. What’s its condition?”

“Well, since her consciousness is here, I’d assume it’s in a coma over there,” Jang said casually. “A vegetable.”

Dreams tangled in confusion.

As always, they ended in the burning scene where Baek I‑hyun had died. Even in dreams, he never opened his eyes—and once again, I was the only one who survived.

The last thing I remembered was the searing heat on my back as I held him in my arms. Then I woke up.

My vision was blurry. I blinked and saw an unfamiliar metal ceiling.

I gasped and shot upright. Heavy restraints clattered against each other, the metallic sound echoing through the room.

I looked myself over. Thin metallic cords were attached all along my arms and legs.

I grabbed a few and yanked them off. The wires fell away, leaving faint marks on my skin.

“We only ran some tests.”

I flinched and turned.

Baek I‑hyun stood right beside me—dressed in his black uniform and coat, boots dirtied with mud and blood, hair slightly disheveled from fatigue but otherwise exactly as I remembered.

My body tensed as I looked up at him. The wide, silver-toned laboratory was empty except for the two of us.

How I had longed for this—just the two of us, with no one watching, so I could tell him everything.

To see if his weakness, the one only I knew, still existed here.
To tell him who we were, how much I had missed him.
To know whether he truly didn’t remember me—or if he was pretending for some reason.

But now that we were alone, I understood clearly.

That cold, emotionless face looking down at me—as if observing an object.

The effortless, commanding pressure of someone long accustomed to power.

This man didn’t know me.

I dropped my gaze, lowering my legs from the examination table and peeling off the remaining wires.

Baek I‑hyun tapped a nearby console. The rest of the cords detached with a soft hiss and clattered to the floor.

Amid the metallic sound, I made my decision.

In this strange world, one thing was clear:

Those who came through the Gate were treated as less than human.

I had learned that brutally on the transport ship from the Gate to the battleship. The soldiers called us Strangers, watched us, and stood ready to kill us at any moment.

Here, Strangers were beneath even insects.

That meant my very existence was a liability to Baek I‑hyun.

Claiming to know him was the same as declaring that he was a Stranger too—and that could destroy him.

I’d made a huge mistake when I first greeted him as if we were acquainted. If this Baek I‑hyun wasn’t the one I knew, then I had just dragged an innocent man into trouble. And if he was the one I knew but couldn’t remember me, then all the more reason to stay silent.

I’d been too shaken to think clearly before. But I didn’t want to be his weakness. Never that.

Begging for my life by invoking our past would only harm him.

Once, Baek I‑hyun had saved me. I owed him my life. I couldn’t repay that debt by ruining his.

The decision wasn’t difficult. I would survive—but without his help. However bleak that seemed, I would find a way.

I lifted my eyes. Our gazes met. His expression was still unreadable—solid, cold.

But that was fine. It had to be fine.

“I…”

I had to draw the line.

“I must have mistaken you for someone else.”