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9k words

“So you’re saying you can kill me, right now, without breaking a sweat” she says, her glass of wine swirling in her hand.

“Yeah,” you say, your finger rounding the rim of your own glass.

“You’re very confident.”

“I’m honest.”

She smirks, and you won’t lie, it’s more than a little attractive.

“Alright, big shot, let’s see what you’ve got.”

It had been about fifteen minutes since she stepped into the picture.

And you already know why she’s here, striding through purposefully towards the counter in that tight, figure-hugging dress, and that determined, girl-on-a-mission look in her eyes. In just a moment she makes her presence known, moving the fabric of the air you breathe. And missing such a dazzling light in the gloomy jazz bar is frankly impossible.

You decide then that you’ll give her a chance to leave, because stupidly pretty girls like her shouldn’t die so young.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” She says once she makes it next to you, smiling widely. Her Korean is crisp, like her library of sounds and syllables extends beyond the language itself.

She’s from America, you deduce quickly from her non-typical visuals and slight accent. But she is definitely partially Korean.

“I don’t think it would matter,” you reply, and a deeper smile settles across her countenance, as she slips onto the counter. Her eyes flit to you.

Your brain feeds you all the information you don’t need. One. She’s nervous. Two. She’s definitely green. Three. This is a mistake.

“Would you like one?”

“You’d buy me a glass?”

“Definitely.”

You turn to the bartender, who has been looking expectantly at the interaction between the two of you.

“Glenmorangie, on the rocks.”

“Sex on the beach, neat.”

With a sharp nod, the bartender spins away, and you return your attention to the woman at your side.

She still has a confident, beautiful smile on her face. Dear god, you admit that for once, they really sent the right pretty girl to seduce you. Her lips, small and bow-shaped, and what a shockingly red colour. Red as her dress. Her eyes, made in a way for her gaze to pierce, that lithe form and that blonde hair that’s dirty like the look she’s giving you.

She’s a blazing red banner for danger.

“NIS or CIA?” You inquire quickly.

“Would it matter?” She doesn’t even flinch.

“NIS, then. How may I be of service?”

“Well, you could down that drink I bought you, and not waste it. Then, you could help me by answering a few of my simple questions.”

You consider for a moment. “I’ll bite. Ask away.”

Her eyes turn towards the counter.

“Why is my organisation so determined to kill you?” She asks candidly. You can be unfazed as well. You’ll tick her off.

“I thought NIS agents, like most others, don’t question orders.”

Her eyebrow twitches.

“Will you answer my enquiries or not?” She huffs, turning back her gaze back to the bartender at work.

“Have you not asked your superiors yourself? They must have cooked up some reason to give you.”

“Terrorism, targeted attack. Same bullshit. But NIS doesn’t do fourteen planned assassinations on any random terrorist,” she replies, pauses to rephrase, “To be more accurate, NIS doesn’t fail fourteen attempted assassinations.”

The bartender returns with your drinks in hand, placing both gingerly in front of their respective guests.

“Her tab,” you gesture lazily with one hand, and with a flick of her wrist she produces her card, which the bartender receives in a supported palm before turning away.

“You think. That’s good.” You remark.

“That’s quite rude.”

You take a sip of the alcohol. At the very least, you can still enjoy its burn.

“I assume you have a name.”

“Well, yes. I’m not sure what it is to you, but I go by Yunjin.”

So definitely Korean.

You nod and offer your own name to her, even though she probably already knows full well every damn detail about you.

“Have you thought further? On how NIS failed those fourteen assassinations? Read any files?”

“How much can you learn from being told something is dangerous ten times over?”

“You learn to heed warnings.”

Yunjin smirks.

“So which pit of hell did you crawl out from?”

You pause. Watch her silence for a few moments, as she reaches back for her drink and runs the alcohol down her throat. Perhaps the alcohol’s managed to open your voice as well. You decide to indulge.

“April 14. 1945. America requires a new weapon, a new edge that can tip the scales of modern warfare. An idea is pitched for a stronger soldier, more focused, more adept at killing, more war machine than man.”

“Even with a respectable amount of funding, experiments on war criminals fail, over and over again, to produce results. There is less and less support for this figment of fictitious imagination, and the world turns to nuclear weapons.”

“But of course, just before it’s all lost, a successful test occurs with a South Korean subject of no notable origin, and the Americans scramble for this new, successful formula.”

“But it’s not the perfect serum they thought it was. The serum fails on anyone else, an unrepeatable result, and to make it worse, the Korean subject breaks free from the torturous experiments and is never recaptured again.”

“Through the course of history, this Korean agent has been disrupting little key moments in global politics, and in doing so has been labelled and targeted as a top priority by all nations to be eliminated, because they’re annoyed at how this meddling, perfect creation is too perfect, too good at killing that it scares them, and they try their best, all the time, to find a way to put their demons to rest.”

“But they’ve failed, time and time again, because this agent is too strong, too trained to kill without hesitation.”

As you finish your little tale, you turn back to Yunjin, whose eyes are trained carefully on yours.

“And I have no intention of letting them ever succeed.”

There’s a pause, like there always is, because they always need a few moments to process what you’re telling them, that the threat is very much there. This is not the first time you’re explaining yourself to someone.

“You’re over eighty years old?” Is the first thing Yunjin says, incredulous.

“Perks of being gifted with superhuman strength and regenerative abilities. I can’t seem to die, naturally or otherwise.”

“You look barely twenty-five.”

“Thank you.”

Another pregnant pause. Maybe she’s waiting for you to deliver the lie.

“So you’re a-”

“I’m a super-soldier, Yunjin. And a very successful one at that. Just not successful in the way the world wants me to be.”

Yunjin takes another sip, like she’s giving it serious consideration. And still-

“So which part of crazy are you from?”

You sigh. You turn to look at her fully, dead in the eye. And you hold, hold those opal eyes.

God, she could rip people apart with that look. And you know she will. She shouldn’t die here.

“Okay, you know what, I get it,” Yunjin’s lip tilts upwards, and she puts both arms up like she’s been caught.

“In essence, you’re threatening that you could kill me, right now, without breaking a sweat.”

“Yeah,” you say, staring at the amber liquid as your finger slides along the rim of your own glass.

“You’re very confident.”

“I prefer honest.”

She smirks, and you won’t lie, it’s more than a little attractive. The problem is you’ve practically disarmed her already, and you know fully, fully well, that this ends exactly how you want it to.

“Alright, big shot, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I don’t think we should show anything here,” you comment. She’s tensing up.

You turn back to your drink and down the rest in one go, letting the glass hit the table with an audible clank.

“Well then, Yunjin, shall we leave?”

She turns to you with a questioning look.

“You know, to that hotel room you’re supposed to bring me so you can take that hidden pistol that’s riding up your thigh, press it to my forehead and be done with your mission? Your friends must no doubt be getting a little tense with how long it’s taking you.”

You watch as the fingers grasping her glass tense just that little more, and how her leg instinctively twitched when you pointed out the weapon attached to her leg.

“Don’t worry, you’ve hidden it well. No one can see it, but I know how you NIS agents work. We should leave now, by the way. Every extra second your comrades wonder more if they should come to us and interfere.” You swivel in your seat to face the room, pointing at random guests to Yunjin.

“That guy who’s just taking off his bowler hat. That one dressed in the horrible Hawaiian shirt. That guy who’s passed out cold on the sofa seat, and that guy with his back turned to us that is just about to scratch his head.”

You smirk when the last man in question hesitates for a split second as he raises his arm behind his head. You turn back to Yunjin, who is now wearing a much more serious look on her face. Maybe she’s impressed. Maybe she’s afraid. You offer an arm to her, and she quickly grabs it, linking you two together.

“Please,” you gesture to the exit, and you both move smoothly into the busy night.

There have been exactly three incidents just like this one. You don’t remember it because you want to. Like everything else, it’s filed away. Everything is instinct. Kicking in the way your breathing stills when the hair on the back of your neck senses threat, the way you process everything too quickly, too carefully.

History repeating itself feels more like a rule than a statement. And you’re built to fight every moment of it.

The walk to the hotel room is quiet, Yunjin showing no intentions to entertain any more conversation. Clearly, she’s deep in thought, in doubts about her predicament.

But halfway through she speaks up.

“We will kill you.”

You frown. What’s she playing at? Does she want to get herself killed, trying to drop a hint like that?

“I think I’ll take that risk.” you reply with a firm look. Yunjin drops hers. She shouldn’t speak more. There’s someone listening in, that’s for sure.

You frown. Everything about this suggests something weak, someone way too fresh and inexperienced to be placed here. Everything about her gives it away. From the way she can’t keep a consistent posture for more than a few moments to the way she hasn’t tried a single adaptation to her plan, even when you’ve shown her you’re fully aware, every step of the way.

It’s clear as day to you. To them, this is a routine check. A reminder that they’re still hunting you. Always will. That this girl here is expendable.

You frown at this like it’s supposed to help.

There’s a turn to a small alley, in the direction of a shady looking motel. You don’t much care, so you let her guide you robotically to her room, enter first so she can close the door and point the pistol holstered along her thigh at you. You don’t look back as you enter the room either, because that’s what she wants to happen, so you can’t see the barrel pointed at your head before it’s too late.

“I’ll let you walk away from this, Yunjin,” you say, turning to face her, clasping your arms behind your back.

“You don’t need to die, right here and right now, because I know you have a bright future ahead of you and it doesn’t have to be ruined by the poor decision your distributor made.”

She doesn’t respond, still firmly staring straight at you with a tight grip over the pistol.

You reach your right hand out, palm opened and faced up. You leave your left arm tucked behind you.

“Give me the gun.”

Yunjin remains silent and expressionless, pistol still trained on your skull. But you already know that the gears in her mind are whirring, and you step slowly forward, until your open palm rests almost directly below Yunjin’s pistol silencer.

“Come on,” you urge, gently, and Yunjin, still staring blankly, drops the pistol in your hand.

“Thank you,” you say, twirling the gun into your grip and flicking the safety of her pistol on. She’s now staring into dead space, somewhere far away.

“Hey,” you tell her, as her eyes finally stop staring at open space and turn to you.

“I guess, since you’ve been so kind, I’ll give you something in return,” you begin. Outside, you can barely hear the faint sounds of the friction between passing feet and carpet.

“After all, you did ask me to show you what I’ve got.”

Behind Yunjin, the door to the room slams open, and you quickly shove Yunjin out of the way, pulling your left hand from behind you with your own pistol clasped firmly within its grip.

The first shot domes Hawaiian shirt dude, who doesn’t even manage to fire as he stumbles back into Bowler hat. You pivot nimbly to the side as Passed Out guy misses horribly with his pistol and your second bullet pierces into Head Scratcher’s neck, who lets out an uncontrolled squeal. You fire a bullet into Bowler hat’s hand to make him drop his gun and another into his skull and then quickly round on Passed Out guy, whose aim is pitifully shaky as you put a bullet into his head. Quietly, you walk over to Head Scratcher’s bent over form, his hands clutching at his neck, and put him out of his misery.

You turn back to Yunjin, who is sprawled over the hotel room bed, staring at you. Gently, you rest her pistol back on the coffee counter on your right.

She looks terrified. You gesture for her to mute the listening device she has on, and she quickly clamps a couple fingers around something below the strap of her dress.

“To save you some trouble, you should probably go back at least saying that I let you go alive, so that you can deliver a message.” You instruct her, as you tuck the pistol back into the waistband of your pants.

“Just tell them that from now on, I’ve vowed to kill an extra, innocent NIS agent for every new one they send for me. Hopefully, you can still keep your job. This is the best I can do for you. Goodbye, Yunjin. Don’t waste your life doing the wrong things.”

Yunjin doesn’t reply, still staring blankly, but you know she will deliver your message. With nothing more to be said, you leave the scene quickly. You’ll leave the country soon as well. For you, it’s always a good time to visit somewhere new.

“Hyung, you might want to see this.”

You grip your fingers on the steering wheel tighter, determined to keep your focus on the illuminated roads before you.

“Not now, Yugyeom. I’m on a relaxing, scenic drive.”

Your speedometer oscillates consistently between 100 and 120kmph.

“You’re racing yourself again, not on a scenic drive. I’ll drop it in your inbox, hyung, you can read it when you’ve fattened up on your adrenaline rush.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you reply, not really listening. You’re just glad to rid the distraction and get back to blasting intense music that gets your blood pumping.

You wish you could say it’s been a while.

In reality, it’s as familiar as a repeat of yesterday. It’s comfort, routine, almost essential. The truth is, melding something as simple as this, something you love, and suddenly the road ahead starts to fall apart, crumbles like pounded cookies.

It’s like magic, like too much drug, and suddenly you don’t really see anything at all. It’s dark. It’s cold.

When light does return to your irises, such that you can actually start to perceive something, it starts off blindingly white. But the white is in waves, rippling across your vision. It’s silky, almost like you could feel it slip through your fingers without even touching it. The waves of white are calm, rhythmic, even like a metronome.

And from those white, silky seas, shape rises, breaks the waves. It’s round, at first, and it takes up so much of your vision its almost terrifying, like some fictitious sea monster breaking the surface. It takes you a second to recognise it as a head, atop shoulders, rising from linen sheets. And suddenly everything is much clearer. Start with those artificial brown locks, falling in waves of their own over her shoulders.

That face. So perfect. Features so perfectly proportioned they had to be drawn by the hand of god. She looks so ordinary, the combination of everyday features. The gods wondered what perfected simplicity looked like put together, and they got her. Eyes shaped like gems, yet coloured monotonous black, not dark enough to pierce, soft enough to hold and never let go. Nose bridged high and sharp; perfectly cut to not cross the line her eyes make.

And lips that kiss those lines, that push and break then when they tilt upwards as she smiles, the smile that jams brain signals. That face seared so deep it’s a part of your soul.

Her face fades out of focus, because now you’re reconstructing everything else. The figure that bests Aphrodite’s because it rejects excess, defies lust. Geometrically defining gentle curves, riding on beauty and not sex.

Her form is splayed across the white sheets. It’s your bed. She’s wearing that white negligee, thin straps over her shoulders, arms bare, simple, painfully simple. You bought it for her. She’s on her belly, legs kicking gently in the air, like she’s bordering on fun, mermaid angel on the shore. She’s toned gold.

One slender arm propping flawless features with utmost care, because it feels like the gentlest impact would shatter its price. The smile is widening, stopping just before the dimple you know is there pops. Her gaze is cast off the side, not looking at particularly anything. She looks so content with the world, like she knows life’s meanings, and she’s become them.

Those artificial brown locks, falling like they’re meant to cut across that perfect face, to blur it.

But of course, even they fall so perfectly. You remember every pixel of her image. Every word in her story. Every inch of how her skin feels under thumb, the nerves in your fingers can trace her shape.

She’s so beautiful. She’s oxygen, salvation, fulfilment. She’s your soul.

Her eyes start to move, stuttering slowly like motion pictures. They rest on you. She acknowledges you; she tells you, wordlessly, that you mean all that to her. She grins, her face crinkling. Her mouth opens-

Her voice. Her voice. You remember her voice. She was gifted with everything. She’s speaking to you. It’s soft, so, so, so… soft.

You can’t hear what she’s saying.

The wheel jerks in your hand. The car swerves straight for death, and it is only decades and decades of pure experience that controls it, bringing it back to still, to reality.

She’s gone.

She’s there, every night, every day, every moment you need her. At the end of the road.

Your car slows. You’ve reached your destination. It’s time to go home.

You’ve settled down in Egypt for a couple months already, after your eventful meeting with Yunjin. You’ve bought a nice place, a nice car, and even decided to carry some “extra baggage” for over a month now.

Eventually, flipping through the TV bores you and you head to your desktop, where you catch a glance of the notification for Yugyeom’s mail in your inbox. Thinking nothing much of it, you open it, deciding to take a quick glimpse of whatever he’s sent you.

You’re more than a little stunned when it turns out to be leaked files of super-soldier experiments, and that the super-soldier serum they’ve made has succeeded. You hear an engine again, one kick-started, far and away, like you were back in that car you left fifteen minutes ago.

You take a closer look, and you almost wonder how Yugyeom’s managed to help you find so much information. Scanning through, the documents inform you that the serum’s not really succeeded, per se, as it only works in female individuals, but it does mean there are probably more super-soldiers now. You note that the organisation that’s cracked the code is South Korea’s NIS, and you note that Yugyeom has also given you the details on the individuals who have received the enhancements.

You nearly choke when you see Yunjin’s name.

Foolish girl. Stupid girl. Idiot girl.

You sigh and instinctively rub your eyes. You know you won’t sit idly by for this. Yugyeom clearly knows as well, and he’s already dropped a ticket for you from Egypt to Korea set for tomorrow. It’s captioned with a note: “I know you’ll need this.”

You can see your bedroom from your desk, and you look back through the open door to the woman covered in nothing but your blankets soundly sleeping there.

Her name is Hyunbin, and you won’t lie, she’s been absolutely charming. Charming enough that you were willing to spend over a month on her and planning to spend longer.

She really is a great woman, and you feel sorry for her.

But you still pack up your things and leave before she wakes up. You’ll leave her the house and car, at least. It’s the least you can do for her.

You dial Yugyeom up.

“Yugyeom. You know what I need, get it to me when I land tomorrow.”

“Of course, boss. I’ll bring your junk straight from your old place,” Yugyeom says cheekily.

“Thanks. For the file too.”

“Just something I knew would pique your interest. You know, like seeing an offer for something you wouldn’t buy but you know your friend loves. Good luck, hyung.”

You appreciate the gesture, but you’re quite sure you won’t need it.

You’re finally where you need to be, and you can’t help but feel like NIS should really have done a better job with the security around their testing facility.

Sure, it’s a pretty unsuspecting building at the shipyard, but the absolute slack job their security is putting up is slightly concerning.

You slide down the rope you’ve attached to the roof of the ceiling, landing on one of the upper floors without a sound. The guard in front of you is oblivious, still staring at the open expansion in the middle of the building that looks straight down to the first floor. You keep your rifle trained on him until you’re within knifing range, and quickly slide the rifle aligned across your shoulder behind you and stick your bowie into his neck.

After he falls, there’s only the three guarding the small trapdoor that no doubt leads to the basement where the experiments are being held, but they’re standing so close to each other that you just shoot all three of them before they can even sound out to anyone.

If NIS is making these mistakes, you wonder if they’ve really changed. You attach another rappel and slide down to the first floor, then lift the trapdoor slightly.

You’re safe, since there’s no alarm, and you throw a tiny capsule through the small opening you’ve made.

Then you take out what can only be described as a racing controller and fiddle with the buttons until you can see through the capsule you’ve thrown inside.

You jam your finger into the big blue button in the right side of your controller, and the capsule splits open to let your tiny drone fly free.

It’s nice to have useful gadgets in your arsenal. It’s something worth taking your time to appreciate. You scan through fifty metres of the dimly lit hallway before you hop through the trapdoor yourself. From there, you proceed swiftly, your right hand tracing the right side of the hallway.

If your sound scan earlier was correct, and it almost always is, the room where Yunjin and her super-soldier buddies are being kept is a little maze like to get to, so you’re tracing the right side of the hallways with a line of chalk to make navigating back much easier, putting specific indicators whenever you continue down a fork in the road.

In no time, you’ve reached the door you’re aiming for. Feeling bold, you open the door right away and slip in before anyone notices.

There’s only a few guards in this room, all on the top floor of this two-storey room. The bottom floor has only security guards and five oval, opaque orange pods that you can only assume is where Yunjin is being kept. The top floor consists of a set of railings that overlook the bottom floor. Like a pair of square brackets when viewed from above. There’s a path you can make from the side of the room opposite to you, but the two sides are split by a five-metre gap of nothingness.

Using the dim lighting to your advantage, you hug the wall and face the gap in front of you without the three guards on your side seeing you.

You silently draw six throwing knives from a small equipment pack at your waist, and, holding three in each hand, sprint and jump the gap just as you let them fly.

The lack of any sound as you land tells you you’ve found all your targets. At this point, there’s not much of a threat left in the room, so you get a grip on your rifle, and taking note of all the glowing consoles in the room, and without further hesitation, gun down each scientist from above. You pick your shots carefully, so you gun down those running to trigger alarms first.

They scramble and scream, but you’re more than good. Once done, you rappel down to the bottom floor and make sure you’ve definitely nailed all your victims. Just in case you missed, of course.

You turn to face the orange pods. They’re unfamiliar to you, but the gist of it is generally the same. Full on dousing of bodies in chemicals, tons and tons of painful injections and testings. You scan the names on the pods carefully. The first two names aren’t Korean, but the third pod is Yunjin’s. You run over to look through the consoles connected to the pods, and quickly figure out the details on them and deactivate Yunjin’s pod.

You hurry back to her pod, and feeling destructive, smash it open with the butt of your rifle. The top half of the pod shatters and the amber liquid within spills out in a flood. You pull Yunjin’s form from the mess and disconnect the tubes connected to her body. Slowly, Yunjin regains consciousness and coughs out the orange fluid, gasping for air.

When her eyes open, she stares in confusion at your face.

“Can you walk?” You ask, pulling her to sit upright. There will be time for breath-catching later. Yunjin’s wearing some weird, white dress that leaves her back exposed. It’s soaked in orange gunk.

“I don’t know. What’s going on?” Yunjin says groggily. Her fingers claw at her tongue, trying to scrape the poor tasting orange juice out. Clearly that hasn’t improved.

“We’re getting out of here. Unless you’d rather stay.”

Yunjin shakes her head.

“Good. I was going to put a bullet through your head if you said you wanted to stay.” You say as you beckon for her to try to stand on her feet.

Yunjin stares at you for a moment, but you give her an urgent look and she gets moving. She manages to balance on her legs for a few moments, but you know it won’t last her the journey out.

You hoist an arm over your shoulder, and you help support her over to your rappel on the side of the wall.

“Wait,” she tries to say, but you’re already moving.

“Hold on tight,” you say as you fish out the rope accelerator from your side, attach it to the rope and wrap Yunjin’s hands securely around its handle.

You click a switch and the accelerator shoots Yunjin up to the second story, who lets out an audible groan at the strain on her arms. You look back at the pods. You should totally kill the rest of them while you’re here. They’ll be sent to hunt you and Yunjin if you let them live. You walk back, rifle in hand. But you pause. You don’t know why, but the thought strikes you that they might be just like Yunjin.

And you’re not sure why, because when it’s all been this simple, when you’ve been disciplined to remove any excessive thoughts at all, something gives you pause.

You turn away. Not today. They need to walk into your crosshair first. And you know you would have shot all of them dead, Yunjin included, any other day.

Grabbing two more throwing knives, you give yourselves running distance for a scramble up the wall and impale the knives into the wall, to serve as handholds for you to pull your body up and onto the second floor. You grab the accelerator and rope and help Yunjin back up, and the two of you stumble back through the door and down the hallway.

“How are we gonna get away?” Yunjin asks an important question, her brain starting to function.

“Can you swim?” You ask her seriously, and she stares.

“Joking, joking. I have a ride,” You tell her, and she just closes her eyes.

She comes to a few days after fainting during the jet ski ride from the shipyard to your place.

Okay, it’s not that simple. You swapped through multiple vehicles while carrying a concussed Yunjin on your back, and it’s not really a ‘place’. But you got her out, got her to the safe house, and that’s how the two of you are, safe.

Yunjin wakes at a particularly inconvenient time. You’re in your kitchen, cooking breakfast, and she comes to her senses just as you’re plating your eggs.

If she had woken half an hour earlier, you could have made her portion.

The safe house you’ve brought the two of you to isn’t as much of a house as it is a shed, made out of wood and similarly in the middle of the forest, with nothing in it except the bare necessities, a bare-minimum kitchen and a bare-minimum small round table. Across the table’s a rifle you haven’t had the urge to keep yet.

There aren’t any rooms in this shed, but there is a bed, and a hideously coloured old sofa which you’ve been sleeping on. You’ve kept a watchful eye on her sleeping form (and definitely not on her porcelain skin), so when she wakes, groggy, you’re there, and you forget that your form standing imposingly over hers may be more than a little frightening.

Yunjin wakes slowly, eyes blanking out at nothing before she catches your form.

“So,” Yunjin gazes up at you expectantly, speaking in that more-sounds-than-necessary accent. In all actuality, it is a charming tone.

“You might want to take it slow. Stretch properly. Breakfast is on the table,” you say simply. You aren’t sure how to face Yunjin yet, you’re not sure what to say. She’s just laying there, waiting for you to say something more. In the end, you just turn away awkwardly, head for the front door to clear your mind. The plan ended with breaking her out. Not much after that.

Yunjin stares at you curiously as you move away, then slowly sits up and immediately hears something crack.

“Ow,” Yunjin verbalises, wincing.

By then, you’re already out the door, moving through invasive thicket till you reach the bike you took to get here, and the duffel bag open next to it. You aren’t really thinking about anything, not really thinking at all.

You take a moment to exhale. Luckily, there is something for you to do.

There’s a wall of trees outside that encloses the safe house, and the road out of it isn’t that clear at all. Lying against the trees are a set of rifles and handguns you’ve brought along with you. They’re there because they’re supposed to be packed.

Silently, with discovered reason, you begin to pack the items in the bag. With a weapon between your fingers, your brain is already calculating, body on autopilot. You’ll leave by tomorrow noon, once Yunjin gets used to her new body, and you’ll reach the next safe house by early evening. You’ll pack your weapons first, keep a pistol on you to be safe. Tomorrow morning you’ll pack up the necessities and be out of the woods, head to Incheon.

You head back once you’ve finished packing, having collected yourself to correct your awkwardness.

When you reenter the house, Yunjin’s seated at the small table, eyes staring blankly at the rifle laid out in front of her. She’s chewing slowly, fork halfway between her mouth and the plate.

“Is it that bad?” You ask, and her eyes flick over to yours.

“No, it’s pretty good, actually,” she says, shaking her head.

“I tried my best.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” Yunjin repeats.

You walk over and grab for the G36 lying on the table, strip it into its parts for packing. All the while, Yunjin stares at you with interest. It’s a small mistake to leave a loaded weapon in front of someone who just woke up from a comatose state.

“Sorry about that. Should have kept it.”

“No, it’s totally fine to just leave a rifle strewn across an apartment.”

“Is that where you think we are? In an apartment?” You ask, honestly. Yunjin pauses for a moment, looks out the window, sees the trees, and-

“What the hell is going on?” Yunjin chuckles, cocks her head.

“I uh, broke you out of the NIS facility where you got turned into a super-soldier.”

“Oh,” Yunjin says blankly, then promptly shuts up.

You sigh, walk around and reach for a stack of documents, then place them in front of her. They are plans, of course, the layout of the shipyard and directions explaining how you broke her out.

You watch her eyes scan over them diligently.

“Planned this a week ago, a friend had the area scanned and mapped even earlier.”

It details everything, the parking of the jet ski at the dock, sneaking up the building using the pipes connected outside, the guard rotation timings, the layout of the building.

Step one was to arrive at the shipyard by jet ski, shielded by the veil of night, then use the pipes connected to the main building to pull yourself up for entry from the roof. You’ll clear the first building of guards, proceed to the underground chambers and sneak Yunjin out. From there it’s a jet ski ride, five-kilometre drive and a short stretch by road bike to the safe house.

Yunjin recognises a detailed plan when she sees one.

“You spent so much time planning this escape for me?”

“It took a few hours.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

Yunjin clearly isn’t convinced. Yes, planning a detailed breakout plan on a high security NIS facility in four hours is not humanly possible, but that, in context, is an argument that resolves itself.

Yunjin bites her lip.

“Why did you save me?” Yunjin asks, candidly.

“Why were you there?” You respond, having your own questions you want answers to.

Yunjin sighs, leans back. She already knows she can only answer first.

“After I failed that mission, they bought the whole ‘left alive to send a message’ idea, but I was still practically fired from my job. They pushed me to be used elsewhere, sent me to help with their ‘scientific division’. I didn’t know I was going to be a test subject.”

“Did they tell you what they were turning you into?” You press further.

“Yeah, we got the gist eventually. We were trying to turn into superhumans, enhanced individuals. They were trying to make more of you,” Yunjin continues, locking eyes with yours. Your brain starts filing again. More threats.

“Do you know that they’ve succeeded?” You say softly.

Yunjin’s eyes widen, she looks down at her hands like they’re supposed to show her something miraculous.

“I… I don’t feel any different.”

She wouldn’t, of course.

“Take a stretch again when you’re about to get up. Then take a shower, you’ve been in that dress for three days.”

“I’ve been asleep for three days?” Yunjin exclaims, then quietly, “well that explains the stench.”

“I bought some shampoo and soap you can use. I… hope they’re suitable,” you offer, gesturing at the shower. Yunjin turns her head, lets out a snort.

“That’s your shower?” Yunjin asks in disbelief, turning back to you like you cannot be serious. She’s looking at a square metre of space next to the wall where a shower head extends from and is enclosed by a shower curtain with a cheery green checkered pattern. There’s hardly enough space to do a full turn.

“Sorry, princess, you’ll have to make do,” you chastise, though you’re a little apologetic.

Yunjin rolls her eyes, makes a move to stand up, and winces again when there’s another audible crack.

“Stretch, right… ow…,” Yunjin cringes, then slowly stretches herself, and you hear an entire drum solo made from the sounds of her bones snapping.

Yunjin looks at you, wide eyed.

“That is not normal,” she states.

“You aren’t even remotely close to normal anymore,” is your reply, as you walk over and sweep up Yunjin’s empty plate.

“Where’s your lunch?” Yunjin asks, letting out a yawn as she continues to stretch.

“You ate it.”

“Oh,” Yunjin replies, blushing, “Sorry about that.”

You wave her away, then lie, “It’s fine. I’ll get food later.”

You turn back to focus on cleaning the dishes, but you hear the shower curtain screech as it’s dragged to close. It’s wrong, but you can’t help but turn to look. Yunjin, obscured by the curtain, turns on the shower, messes with the temperature settings for a few moments.

You flinch when you hear her dress pool at her feet. There’s a perverted gap too, since the curtain is too short to reach the ground, so you can see her feet step around as she moves around the cramped space, nearly tripping over her discarded dress. Suddenly the sound of water droplets stops, and you hastily turn back to your dishes.

“Umm,” Yunjin voices out, “you do have a towel, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, clear your throat, quickly rinse your hands of soap then quickly grab the towel you prepared for her. Yunjin awkwardly sticks one bare arm out the side of the shower curtain.

“I’ll leave it right outside, so it doesn’t get wet,” you tell her, and her hand shoots back behind the shower curtain.

“Thanks,” Yunjin mutters, then louder, “clothes too?”

“Same place,” you say behind the shower curtain, your voice dry. You’re usually more composed than this.

For the next few moments, seconds, minutes, hours, all you can hear is the splashing of water droplets as you fumble with the sponge and soap.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier, about why you saved me,” Yunjin says calmly, slowly combing through her hair. She’s out of the shower now, in fresh clothes, a giant pink tee and some baggy, cloth shorts.

You’re at the small kitchen table, looking through the flight tickets for tomorrow. Correction, making sure they’re glued to those flight tickets, and not how she looks after climbing out the shower. At the back of your mind, something tickles, something about excessive thoughts.

“There were two options, really, like I said, either I broke you out or I’d have shot you dead. You know this. That second option is inevitable.”

“And you broke me out because?”

“Fond memories, maybe? I thought you’d know better. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t die so young.” You say, cause a tinge of red to stain her pale cheeks. You bite your tongue.

You really can’t say you know why either. There’s been hours of staring at her sleeping form, and yet you still can’t come up with anything sensible.

“What did you do with the others?” Yunjin continues, her voice a little warmer.

“Nothing,” you answer truthfully, and Yunjin’s gaze suddenly freezes, eyes widen.

“Wait, you just left them there?”

“They’re gonna die eventually, doesn’t matter if I killed them there or not,” you say, nonchalantly.

Yunjin looks like she can’t decide the best way to strangle you.

“Idiot… they’ve done nothing wrong.”

“People who have done nothing wrong still die,” you say bluntly.

“You don’t get it, they were friends. We went through hell together, through all the testing. They’re like my sisters. I can’t believe you let them continue to be used by NIS.”

“I’m sorry, Yunjin, but you couldn’t have expected me to know about your bonds with the other girls, or have broken you all out.”

“You’re going to kill them all anyway, aren’t you? If so, why make them suffer?” Yunjin scowls.

“They should still be allowed to wake up. I’m not that inhumane,” you reply.

“You kind of are,” Yunjin says matter-of-factly. You don’t reply.

“We’re going back tomorrow,” Yunjin demands.

“No.”

“I don’t care if you say no. If I have to go it alone, I will. I’m not leaving them there.”

“There’s no guarantee they’ll even be there anymore. It’s been three days. Don’t make this so complicated, Yunjin. If you get caught, I won’t break you out again.”

“If your best friend was being tortured, would you not at least try to save them?”

You pause, silently.

“And I don’t get it. Aren’t you going to kill me too? What’s your plan here?” Yunjin exclaims.

“The plan is, was, to be out of this country tomorrow, where I’d let you decide what you wanted to do with your life before I went after your friends.”

“So why give me, alone, a second chance?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I should eliminate all potential threats. But I’m still urged to let you live your life,” you say truthfully, but yet, for all the calculating you’ve done, you find yourself pondering, why is that?

“Then can’t you give them that second chance too? To live normal lives?”

You shouldn’t even consider her question. If there are more super-soldiers, there will be more problems. People will be fighting over getting such a military advantage, then fighting with the military advantage. You’ll be hunted down relentlessly, and it won’t ever be as easy as it’s been. And yet, despite all reason, despite your lack of care for morals…

“How do you suppose we get back in there?”

“The same way you got in?” Yunjin asks hopefully.

You stare at Yunjin.

“You are trained by NIS, right?” You ask, and Yunjin rolls her eyes at the sarcasm.

“Yes, it’s a terrible idea, but I don’t think we’re making a second plan to get in better than the one you’ve made,” Yunjin explains.

She’s right, surprisingly. You won’t be able to produce equipment for a different type of break in and entering.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Okay? Thank you for repeating what I just said? We’re still going to do this,” Yunjin replies with such conviction you’re sure even a gun to her head can’t stop her.

You can only sigh in response.

“You better learn how to move with your new body, then.”

“What?”

“We are going to do this, right? You won’t be doing and breaking and entering when you’re not used to your body’s new composition.”

Yunjin furrows her brow, confused.

“There’s a pair of track pants in the closet, should be your size. Put them on and meet me outside,” you instruct, “and for the love of god, please stretch.”

Yunjin approaches you after a few minutes, still wide-eyed at the situation that’s unfolded around her. Everything’s been so rapid, yet robotic. She can kind of understand what’s happened, piece together her past memories with the present, but the motivations behind everything aren’t clear. Like a blurry image. And it doesn’t help with the weird way you’re approaching everything, explaining what feels like only half of the story and just ignoring the rest.

You’re preoccupied with making a call to Yugyeom, to inform him of your change in plans.

“Yes, I’ll let you know when we’re leaving. No, don’t jump the gun. I’ll let you know how many tickets I need tomorrow. For now it’s just me and her. That’s all I need. Thank you.”

You hang up on the old flip phone you’re using, turn to address Yunjin.

Oh, Yunjin might chalk it up to you just having a sense of humanity, wanting to prevent what clearly must have been a struggle for eighty years from happening to her. But that doesn’t seem fully right. Something’s missing. Like how there’s extended periods of time where you can’t meet her gaze.

“Did you stretch?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm, but probably not enough. Copy me,” you command, then move to stretch your arms. Yunjin follows suit, and her body once again generates a series of audible cracks.

“What is wrong with me?” Yunjin asks you, concerned.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you inform her, “your body is still locked up and stiff from the serum’s effects. Your bone composition has changed, and you need to break the calcium pockets to get back your mobility.”

“What?” Yunjin doesn’t even try to understand. You change your stretching position, sigh, then try to explain it again in simpler terms.

“The serum you took, it covers all your bases. Strength, endurance, defence. It’s changed your bone composition so your bones are stronger, lighter. As you’ve been laying immobile, your body has taken liberty to try further extending your new bone structure, so you need to stretch to remind your body where your joints are and what your range of motion should be.”

Yunjin awkwardly pops another few joints as she listens to you. You do a good job of avoiding eye contact.

“That’s… concerning.”

“You’ll feel like normal by tomorrow.”

Yunjin clears her throat awkwardly.

“What else has it done to me?”

“You weren’t informed on the aftereffects of the serum?”

“No,” Yunjin says, puzzled like it isn’t the number one question one would ask, “should I have been?”

“And you still took the serum?” You’re incredulous.

“I didn’t have a choice, did I? I didn’t even know what I was drinking, or if it would work. Why are you looking at me like that?”

It’s because, knowing what the serum means, you can’t believe Yunjin would make such a decision without thorough consideration. Critique flies out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“It’s nothing, just wondering if I labelled a poison as water, if you’d be foolish enough to drink it.” You revile.

“What is your problem?” Yunjin snaps, and only then you register your tone.

“Sorry,” you say, changing your look of criticism. You should have known better than to be unnecessarily rude. Fixing your attitude, you continue sheepishly, “it’s been a while since I’ve talked to anything that isn’t a hostile.”

Yunjin looks at you remorsefully.

“I can tell. You’re cool and calm when you’re operating, but when you’re not, it’s…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She doesn’t need to verbalise it, but you can see what she’s saying in her eyes.

It’s like you don’t know how to be a normal person.

You’re aware, but, like you’ve done before, you let change slip your mind.

“Look, just keep stretching. Make sure you hear as many cracks as possible. Eventually you’ll find that your body’s pain tolerance has also improved, and your flexibility can be worked on so you can get into more compromising positions easily.”

To demonstrate, you lift your leg up and rest your foot against the tree next to you, bring it up so it’s around head height.

“Your strength too, is beyond anything a normal human can do. Each muscle strand in your body is now fuelled to produce enough force to punch a hole through concrete.”

You gesture at her arms, more precisely at her biceps.

“You won’t see anything, in fact, your hormones have changed so you can easily control physical muscle mass, so you won’t start swelling up into a bodybuilder. You won’t know how to tap into your strength yet, since your strength is still adjusted to normal levels, so you don’t crush a cup just by trying to grab it or try to pull out a chair and end up lifting the whole table with it. I’ll teach you how to use your strength later.”

“How do you know all this?” Yunjin asks, a valid question.

“Your serum is the same one I took when I became one,” you inform her.

“But that was like, eighty years ago. How do you know it’s the same one?”

“It’s the only formula that’s worked, and after checking, it’s now been successfully replicated. Why change a formula that’s already done its intended job?”

Yunjin stares at you with an inexplicable expression, and you’re not sure what to make of it. It’s like she’s looking for something behind your eyes. It’s dangerous, but a few seconds later, her gaze relents.

“So, super strength, what else?”

“Your endurance, stamina, physical recovery, have all increased thousandfold. You won’t need sleep, food, water. You’ll fully heal cuts in hours, bullet wounds in days. You will be able to break down bullets that have entered your body.”

“Your mind will have expanded. Your brain will be hardwired for combat, you will calculate the right decisions in seconds, move without thinking. You’ll run through dozens of simulations in your head at every possible moment, pick out and avoid potential hostiles without even realising it. Your brain is a computer built to decipher codes.”

Yunjin’s head is no doubt reeling, but you know she understands and probably has felt what you’re talking about. Her body is already operating on its own as a machine built for war.

“Essentially,” you conclude, “you’re the perfect superhuman.”

Yunjin draws a deep breath.

“So I’m like you now? I won’t age, won’t be able to have a semblance of normality? I’ll kill without feeling, be so good at it no one in the world can stop me?”

“If you do the things that I’ve done in this life, then yes,” you tell her honestly, your voice hushed. You’re not sure who’s looking at who with more pity, you at her because of her future, or her at you because of your past.

But people are hunting for the two of you, and you need to make sure she doesn’t slow you down, doesn’t get herself killed. You look her in the eyes.

“You have a few gifts, as you are now. Do you know what’s your biggest strength?”

“My mind?” Yunjin makes a strong guess.

“No, it’s your femininity,” you state.

“In this world, women are perceived differently from men. But that’s a strength you can use, that if you can use well, will ensure no one will be prepared for what you can do.”

“Your ambiguity, your hidden strength and mind, your beauty, these are weapons you can sharpen to impossibly sharp edges.”

Yunjin’s cheeks flush, and her eyes dart away, but you’re being serious.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Pretty girls like you are the ones that become the most dangerous.”

“Speaking from experience again, or what?” Yunjin’s unable to meet your gaze, rubs her arm, and you can’t really say you’re amused by her attempt at a joke.

You’re back to operating as what you’ve been created to become; a killer that will not fail his mission. You guess, in a twisted way, you’re back to your real self again.

Regardless of how much Yunjin’s made you falter, your mission now is crystal clear.

“When you’re done stretching, we’ll spar. Time to see what NIS has taught you.”

“Stretch,” you repeat for what must have been the umpteenth time.

Yunjin’s sprawled, face down, on the bed in your temporary shelter in the middle of the woods, fuming.

You can’t blame her. You’ve not given her an easy afternoon, having pushed and then put her down repeatedly over the past few hours.

“It’s not fair,” Yunjin complains, “You’re like a kungfu master.”

“It won’t ever be fair, from now onwards. You signed up for this.”

Yunjin makes a sound of disapproval, but decides she prefers having her face buried in her pillow.

“I’ll prepare dinner,” you say simply.

“How kind,” Yunjin’s muffled by the pillow she’s talking into, but it still comes out laced with sarcasm.

“Get ready to go out right after, by the way,” You add.

“You can’t be serious,” Yunjin turns to you like you’re insane.

“More training?”

“No, we’re going shopping,” You tell her dryly.

“You’re fucked in the head.”

Yunjin just doesn’t get it.

It’s not like she got beaten, outclassed, or that she got destroyed. She got decimated.

To be fair, she was fighting an impossible battle.

But she just doesn’t get it.

She could tell this guy was broken. It was glaringly obvious. It shouldn’t have been surprising.

But still, she got her ass handed to her by someone so laconic, someone not all there and so hard to explain. And it’s bizarre.

Oh, he’s perfect, she knows this. Years of experience, every single fighting pattern known to man and completely impervious to any situation, no matter how dangerous. And so, she’s afraid of course, but she’s not sure what to feel.

He probably has alexithymia. He’s as stiff as a board. Built like a brick wall. Completely immovable.

And yet.

Yunjin can recall the fight perfectly. He even made the first move, started with a fake jab, then pulled back when she responded with a block.

And right there and then, it was like he had her figured out.

She made a right hook, one made to test and not commit, and immediately he grabbed her and pulled her to the ground.

Effortless. She picked herself up, of course, back onto her feet like there were still moves to make.

She tried a kick. Caught and thrown. He did some weird thing she had never seen before and redirected all her momentum back into her. She tried a pattern, kick and break the block, got far enough to hop onto and wrap both legs around his head. She let her body swing, tried to use her body weight to generate a moment large enough to throw him off his feet.

He didn’t even budge. Just peeled both legs off him and planted her back first into the ground. Oh, there’s something completely wrong with all this, an error in need of erratum. He’s awkward. Sure-footed in burying people into their graves and hesitant without a pistol in his hands.

It reminds her, startlingly, of a young boy with his first crush.

It scared her, too, like it should, what he could possibly do to her. It scared her just like the first time she met him. Just the harbinger of death, a whirlwind of silent devastation. Of course no one would be able to stop him. The reason was right there. There was reason too, to find out what exactly he wanted with her. Like they said, why the change of heart?

There’s something underneath that gaze. The hesitant one. She wants to find out what it is. Even though she doesn’t know you enough to trust you.

Oh, she probably wouldn’t mind it, being attached to him. Just tease enough to taste and she would be safe forever, and you aren’t all bad, that slip of skin under the hem of your shirt-

God, she needed to clear her mind. So Yunjin props herself up on one arm, observes. His movements are robotic, the way he moves from chopping board to pot to stove.

And yet. It’s like he’s done this before, preparing a meal for another person, sprinkling ingredients into it that aren’t food. And she thinks, maybe she can piece it together now, sticking them back together with tape to form some caricature of a glass heart.

Oh, and she can tell there’s something wrong with her there, too. Cause and effect, all laid bare, and she knows, this is risky. Like he said, she’s too pretty to not know. And she knows if she lets things be it will spiral out of control. Where rational makes less and less sense. Where emotions become logic.

Oh, she’s basically strapped in for the ride, currently fastening her seatbelt.