RTN 41

Chapter 41

There are currently eight known Phantoms.

A Phantom cannot be controlled by humans. That vast darkness behaves like a living being with its own will, and no one has ever been able to possess or command it.

Because they move freely along unpredictable paths, a Phantom must simply be regarded as a disaster when encountered. The enemy’s use of Phantoms began when the Empire had already seized control of most of the war and only the final stronghold of the opposition remained.

Facing defeat, the Alliance of Free Constellations—the Empire’s enemy—was desperate, clinging to even the smallest hope.

The Alliance dispatched delegations across the galaxy, seeking cooperation from any and all living beings.

In that process, one envoy discovered a race called the Seal at the very edge of the galactic spiral arm.

These jellyfish-like creatures, a tiny minority species, simply floated in the air and basked in sunlight. Because they had no other notable functions, the Empire had deemed them useless and excluded them early on from their conquest campaigns.

But the Alliance was different. They desperately needed any assistance at all. They attempted to communicate with the Seals, and that was when they learned that these small jellyfish loved sunlight so much that they emitted a specific substance to keep Phantoms from passing by and blocking the sun.

The Alliance immediately forged an alliance with the Seals and obtained this substance, using it to artificially control the movement of Phantoms. As the Phantoms followed the routes guided by the Alliance, more than half of the Imperial forces were slaughtered, and the Empire lost its momentum.

In response, Baek Ihyeon—the first human ever to destroy a Phantom—rose to confront them, and because the Alliance struggled technologically to locate additional Phantoms, the war stalled into a stalemate.

The Emperor, once confident of overwhelming victory, flew into a rage. Obeying his command to abandon the front to other units and track the Phantoms’ movements, Baek Ihyeon led the 207th Special Mission Battalion in wide-area reconnaissance.

As a result, they discovered that a total of six Phantoms existed across the galaxy—and one of them was still an immature larva.

The Hoyeon family, who sought to keep Baek Ihyeon in check, then deployed a division to eliminate the still-growing Phantom larva.

The larva was believed to have no eyes and was much smaller than a fully grown Phantom. Since Baek Ihyeon had already destroyed a mature one, they assumed a division could easily subdue a lesser larva.

It was a miscalculation.

After being bombarded by the division, the larva crawled out of its nest and suddenly opened its eyes wide toward the assault teams charging in.

It had always had eyes—they just hadn’t been visible because they’d been closed.

The moment the soldiers met its gaze, they were swallowed by nightmares.

Nightmares were a unique hallucination emitted from a Phantom’s eyes. Anyone who encountered them was helplessly dragged into their most terrifying memories and tortured. Some even died when their hearts simply gave out.

The Hoyeon division ultimately lost most of its forces and barely retreated. They were lucky the larva did not keep its eyes open continuously, only blinking at intervals; otherwise, they would have been annihilated.

And then, for the first time, the Phantom larva—having been attacked by humans and sensing a threat to its life—reacted by splitting its body into three to increase its chance of survival.

One of those three has come here.

“Support?”

“The nearest friendly unit is the 9th Division. Estimated arrival time: at least seven hours and twelve minutes.”

“If the 9th Division leaves its position, the front will collapse.”

“They’ve established a temporary defensive line. They’ve confirmed they can move this way.”

“It’s highly likely this situation was engineered by the enemy. Another option?”

“The next closest friendly force is the 2nd Brigade. Estimated arrival time: at least forty-seven hours.”

“The time left to us is—no…”

Baek Ihyeon stopped speaking, then continued.

“How long until the next Opening?”

The term felt foreign—not because they didn’t know it, but because they hadn’t expected to face it so directly.

An “Opening” was when a larva didn’t merely blink but opened its eyes wide for hours, exerting hallucinations as powerful as a mature Phantom.

“Judging from the blinking cycle, about two hours until Opening.”

“Cease transmission of our coordinates and withdraw the support request. Our battalion will engage alone.”

“With respect, Battalion Commander, even if friendly forces arrive too late to participate in battle, we must at least transmit our coordinates. If our battalion is wiped out, the friendly forces will eventually need to come and recover the warship.”

Silence fell.

Kim Dowon swallowed hard and focused entirely on Baek Ihyeon.

He wanted Baek to reassure them, as he always did. That they didn’t need reinforcements. That their battalion alone could destroy a Phantom.

After all, they had done it before. Kim had been present when Baek Ihyeon destroyed humanity’s first Phantom. The memory still thrilled him.

Of course, that Phantom had been fully grown, and the one now clinging to the ship was a larva. A different situation—but still manageable. As always, Baek Ihyeon would—

“This warship cannot be recovered by friendly forces. It’s going to be blown to pieces.”

Kim Dowon doubted his ears.

The nightmares emitted by a Phantom affected only the souls of humans. That horrible thing left ships and weapons untouched. Only lives were destroyed.

Kim had been deployed to Phantom-touched ships multiple times. They would clear the corpses slumped over consoles and send the ship back to base on auto-pilot.

Sometimes the enemy arrived first. In those cases, they lost both the ship and their comrades’ bodies—a heavy blow.

So Baek’s claim that a Phantom would destroy the warship made no sense. Unless…

Kim stared at Baek Ihyeon’s unreadable, emotionless face.

Why isn’t he assuming we’ll win?

A chill crawled up his spine.

Why is Baek Ihyeon assuming failure?

“Commander, Phantoms don’t exert physical force.”

The operations officer spoke hoarsely, looking guilty and fearful for having to explain such a basic fact to Baek Ihyeon.

Baek knew Phantom behavior better than anyone—so something was wrong.

“The larva is different.”

Baek spoke.

“Two days ago, when I destroyed two of the three larvae, both weapons and recon units sustained damage. This one is likely similar since it split off from the same original body. And it came to our warship on its own. The chance of physical damage is high.”

As expected. Kim held his breath.

His suspicions were correct. When Baek returned alone from the clean room days ago, Kim had wondered if he’d fought a Phantom by himself.

Baek’s unannounced departure, the mercilessly grown wings, the way he removed his weapons and uniform like peeling off a layer of corruption—everything had been disturbing.

Not to mention the contamination levels that refused to drop and the purification alerts. Every indicator had been alarming.

There was only one reason Baek Ihyeon would push himself to such an extreme: a Phantom.

“You destroyed two larvae?”

The operations officer’s voice cracked. The staff around the table looked equally stunned. Someone murmured:

“Two days ago… but there was no time for that…”

“I went alone for reconnaissance. I got lucky—two happened to be together, so I dealt with them at once.”

His tone was casual, as if he were talking about spotting two butterflies on a walk. Completely detached from reality.

“But right now, engaging is difficult. The Phantom is too close to the ship for me to unfold my wings at full range. Therefore, we will abandon the ship and retreat.”

Baek turned to the intelligence officer.

“Where is the nearest safe zone?”

The intelligence officer shot up, activated the tactical map on the table, and began a quick simulation.

She then raised both hands and began signing.

Kim Dowon, clumsy with sign language, could barely catch fragments: impossible, half, danger. The staff’s expressions darkened. Baek calmly asked:

“If we can only carry half the personnel, we can move in two trips. Minimum interval?”

The intelligence officer held up three fingers and tapped her left wrist. Three hours.

Meaning: the first half would survive, while the second half—three hours later—might not. Two hours until the Opening.

“Evacuate immediately. Operations: switch all craft to transport mode and seal bulkheads starting from the Phantom-adjacent sectors. Intelligence: encrypt all data and transfer it to personal watches…”

While everyone scrambled to execute Baek Ihyeon’s orders, a soft sound came from beside Kim Dowon.

He shifted his eyes.

Ser Ayeon, attending this meeting as the first witness of the Phantom, had abandoned the upright posture he’d repeatedly instructed her to maintain. She was leaning against the wall, her gaze glued to the tactical map.

He wondered whether she even understood the severity of the situation.

Then suddenly, she shot her hand into the air.

Kim didn’t have time to stop her; all eyes snapped toward her.

Baek nodded for her to speak. Ayeon quickly asked:

“Phantoms seem to be extremely dangerous, right?”

“Yes. They are the primary reason we have not won this war.”

“Then wouldn’t the ideal choice be to kill it since we’ve run into one? Or at least neutralize it?”

“Engaging the Phantom now would result in annihilation. Evacuating is the best option.”

“Can we communicate with a Phantom?”

“No known method of communication exists.”

He didn’t stop her—not even though only someone ignorant of Phantoms would ask such questions. Someone sighed irritably nearby, and Kim’s stomach tightened. His junior was wasting precious time.

“Does the enemy control the Phantom?”

“No. A Phantom has its own will. The enemy merely disperses a substance it dislikes to guide its movement. That is likely how the Phantom was directed here.”

“Can we use that substance?”

“Research is ongoing, but unlikely.”

“Then what about containing it temporarily?”

“It may grow into a mature form at any moment. A mature Phantom would be too large for our warship to hold.”

At this point Kim felt she needed to be silenced.

Across the table, a company commander mouthed words at Kim, jerking his chin toward Ayeon—clearly telling him to shut her up.

Yet Baek Ihyeon showed no irritation whatsoever. Instead, he asked calmly, as if addressing any other staff member:

“Do you have a plan in mind?”

Ayeon tilted her head lightly, then answered:

“Fast Track?”