RTN 46

Chapter 46

I stared blankly at Baek Ihyeon for a moment. Then I snapped out of it and urgently nodded. This was no time to debate anything. I just had to do it.

Baek Ihyeon gestured downward. Jang Seokju placed me on the floor.

I sat up and looked up at the mask in Baek Ihyeon’s hand. That damned metal would be pressed against my face again, and this time, I was determined to endure it no matter what.

This wasn’t a difficult task requiring special skills or exceptional talent. It was purely a matter of enduring, getting used to it—a test of mental fortitude.

I wasn’t lacking in grit either. Once, I had dreamed of becoming a national athlete alongside Baek Ihyeon, and every day had been a test of endurance.

Just as I reached out for the mask, Baek Ihyeon grabbed his cloak from an aide standing nearby and tossed it beside me. The black cloak spread heavily across the cold hangar floor like spilled ink.

Before I could even wonder what he was doing, Baek Ihyeon knelt in front of me, lowering his body.

Immediately, the back of my head was held, and the mask was pressed against my face. The once-flattened mask instantly opened automatically, enclosing my nose and mouth tightly. It seemed almost alive.

Despite instinctively freezing from the cold, I did not avoid Baek Ihyeon’s gaze as he pressed the mask firmly against my face.

I inhaled slowly through my nose, staring directly into his dark, deep-set eyes. A briny smell slid down my throat. Nausea welled up violently.

I barely exhaled and inhaled again. My stomach twisted, and tears welled up. Without thinking, I grabbed Baek Ihyeon’s wrist that held the mask.

He furrowed his brows. The hand supporting the back of my head gripped firmly. I held his wrist almost twisting it, stared into his eyes, and took a few more breaths.

My nose and mouth stung repulsively, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to tear off that horrid mask, crush it under my feet, but I endured.

I—I knew I would lose.

I deliberately kept my eyes open. I endured with them wide.

I faced Baek Ihyeon’s expressionless face as he mercilessly pressed the mask to mine, the chillingness I had never imagined in the face of the friend I longed for.

Whether it was a friend who looked exactly like him moving in front of me, or this disgusting mask, I wanted to rise above it all, to stand firm. I didn’t want to be tossed about like a leaf in the wind any longer.

Yet, despite my resolve, after seven or eight breaths, I reached my limit.

Instinctively, I grabbed Baek Ihyeon’s wrist and tried with all my strength to pull it off. Even as I breathed, it felt as if I were suffocating. I resisted, he pressed down, and eventually I lost my balance and fell.

Baek Ihyeon’s smooth cloak brushed against my back but was soon crumpled by my struggle, and the cold floor pressed up through me.

At that moment, the mask shifted slightly.

As it made a hissing sound, trying to compress again, Baek Ihyeon climbed over me and readjusted it. Simultaneously, his knee pressed tightly against my thigh.

I twisted my torso to escape, and my elbow collided with something. Even in my daze, I saw Baek Ihyeon’s head jerk sharply.

He glanced sideways briefly, then looked back at me. There was no scolding, no emotion—nothing.

We stayed locked like that, tensely, for what felt like an eternity. I desperately pushed against his chest, feeling like I might actually die.

Then, suddenly, my breathing cleared. The horrid briny smell remained, but I could breathe to some extent.

I gasped, blinking my eyes. A sticky metallic taste coated my mouth and nose. Painful, but not enough to lose consciousness.

Baek Ihyeon slowly relaxed his weight on me. Through my blurred vision, I heard his voice:

“Keep steady. You’re doing well.”

A large hand wiped the moisture from my eyes. My vision briefly cleared, and Baek Ihyeon’s face became momentarily sharp. My cheek, struck by my elbow, was red and swollen.

He helped me sit up and gave instructions to those around us:

“I’ll take Seol Ayeon out. Everyone, move to your positions.”

The sound of boots echoed like a wave, startling me. It seemed many were watching.

I tried to stand, focusing on my breathing, but sank back down. My legs were weak. Then, my wrist was grabbed.

Jang Seokju skillfully fastened a watch onto my wrist. Judging by the one on his own wrist, it seemed this was a new one fitted for me.

“You don’t need to know how to use it. I’ve pre-set it for this mission.”

Through Jang Seokju’s swiftly speaking shoulders, I saw Kim Dowoon staring down at me frantically. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes seemed slightly wet.

Seeing his pitiful expression, I became acutely aware of my own state. Covered in cold sweat, my mask was a mess of saliva and snot. The metal mask was transparent when worn, revealing everything inside.

My face heated up, and I grabbed the mask, intending to wipe my mouth. But Baek Ihyeon immediately stopped me:

“Keep adapting.”

I hesitated but released my hand from the mask. Baek Ihyeon firmly supported my back, sliding his other hand under my thigh, and helped me rise.

I clung to him as if rolling into his arms, tensing up again. My barely stabilized breathing wavered, and nausea surged.

“Focus on your breathing.”

He said it quietly and took a large step forward. I held the mask and inhaled carefully, lifting my head.

Kim Dowoon had already sprinted ahead. Beyond him, a C-type reconnaissance aircraft pressed against one wall of the hangar came into view.

Several crew members were securing a massive sword atop the craft.

Kim Dowoon squeezed his large frame into the cockpit. Red warning lights blinked beneath the plane, and blue lights traced smooth curves along the fuselage.

As vibrations hummed and heat shimmered near the exhaust, maintenance drones scuttled to a shelf on one side of the hangar.

Baek Ihyeon arrived, carrying me into the passenger seat. Resting my head against his neck, I adjusted my posture as Kim Dowoon’s voice came:

“I’m closing the hatch. Please move in.”

“Seol Ayeon, cling to me completely.”

I leaned fully into Baek Ihyeon, concentrating desperately on my breathing so as not to lose orientation. I tilted my head slightly to check my surroundings.

Kim Dowoon signaled the waiting crew outside. Wearing a headset, he moved the microphone to his mouth.

“C-type ready. Requesting launch code.”

His hands flew over the console. Through his hands, I saw the hangar locks disengage.

The walls folded upward, revealing the long launch path with lights stretching out.

Facing the abyss of space at the end, I suddenly remembered something crucial.

I tore off my mask in a panic. Baek Ihyeon immediately grabbed my hand. I dodged the pressing mask and asked hoarsely:

“W-what about a spacesuit?”

He blinked. For the first time, the grip around my hand and mask relaxed slightly.

I quickly rubbed my wet nose and mouth with my sleeve and urgently said:

“Oxygen might be handled with the mask, but outside there’s radiation, freezing cold, vacuum, lungs could burst… I might not be like the rest of you, but I have no resistance in space!”

“When are you talking about enemies? We didn’t have spacesuits ten years ago either.”

He looked at the cockpit as if expecting an explanation. Kim Dowoon kept his gaze on the monitor, yanking a lever down.

“They came from a place where they made fires with wood.”

“Ah.”

Baek Ihyeon looked at me with understanding.

“So, such a primitive place?”