Apocalypse: The echoes of Madness

The man who had traveled back in time thousands of times to save others was the main character. And there was a friend of his—someone who had been infected while trying to save him. That friend was none other than Jung Hwa-Young.

He always returned to January 1, 2023, from the future—January 2028. But this was August. The realization struck Rose like a bolt of lightning: he had already met her.

A sharp pain surged through her head, and a deafening ring filled her ears. She stumbled, clutching her head as if to hold herself together.

And then, everything changed.

"Where am I? Is this... an office? And who is that bald man?" she thought.

The scene unfolded like a movie. She saw the man slam a manuscript onto the table, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"How could you write something like this? What's with this title? 'The Morality of Sacrifice for the Greater Good?' Do you think anyone will read such a pathetic story?"

"But sir, you haven't even read it—" the writer began, their voice trembling with desperation.

"How dare you talk back to me? You're fired! Writing isn't for you. You should find another job."

The writer stood frozen, their fists clenched as if holding back a storm. Finally, they whispered, "It hurts... I can't take it anymore." Their voice cracked, the weight of the words filling the room like a heavy fog.

Rose wanted to shout, to reach through the vision and protect them, but her surroundings began to dissolve. The walls blurred, fading into a new scene.

She saw someone entering her room, their presence quiet but deliberate. They placed a book gently on her desk and disappeared before she could see their face. But their hand... she recognized the bracelet they wore. It was the same one Yuri had made for the five of them, woven with care from simple rope—a bond of friendship that even time could not sever.

The vision crumbled into darkness. Rose gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her head throbbed, and warm blood trickled down her face. Her nose was bleeding.

Then she noticed her. A child, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, her small frame bathed in the faint glow of moonlight. Before Rose could speak, the door burst open, and a maid ran in, her voice quivering with fear.

"Princess! Your father is going to war!"

The child bolted out of the room without hesitation, her heart pounding like a war drum.

By the time she reached the courtyard, her father was already on his horse, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across the ground. His comrades stood around him, their faces somber, their armor glinting faintly under the pale moon.

"Father! Father, don't go!" the child screamed, her voice breaking with desperation.

He heard her. He dismounted, his blond hair shimmering like molten gold, his blue eyes filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache even more. He knelt, opening his arms, and she ran to him, her small hands clutching at his cloak.

"Don't cry, my princess," he whispered, his voice steady yet heavy with unspoken grief. He brushed her tears away with a calloused hand. "Whose daughter are you?"

"Father's daughter," the child choked out through her sobs, clinging to him as if letting go would make him disappear.

"That's right," he said, smiling through the sorrow that lined his face. "Then you must be strong. My princess is strong, isn't she?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling but determined.

"Your sister is unwell," he said softly, his voice like a lullaby trying to soothe a storm. "Now, as her older sister, you must take care of her until I return. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Father," she replied, though her tears betrayed her bravery.

"I've left the sword you always wanted. The butler will bring it to you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, my princess." His voice wavered as he stroked her hair one last time.

"Commander, we must leave!" a soldier called, urgency lacing his words.

The child's grip tightened on his sleeve. "Promise me, Father. Promise me you'll come back."

He stilled, then placed his hand over hers. "I promise," he said, though his eyes seemed to hold the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

He mounted his horse once more, his movements slow, as if reluctant to leave. She watched him ride away, her small frame shaking with sobs.

"Don't worry, Father!" she cried out, her voice breaking but filled with resolve. "I will become strong!"

But he didn't look back.

The child stood there, tears staining her cheeks. Then she turned to Rose, her tear-filled eyes shining like stars through the darkness.

"Don't forget who you are," she said, her voice steady despite the sorrow.

And then, the vision shattered.

Rose woke up with a start, her chest heaving as if she had been holding her breath. Tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting.

"When did I pass out?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness.

But as she wiped her tears, a bitter smile crept across her lips. She laughed softly, a sound tinged with both pain and resolve.

"I am not Rose," she said, her voice trembling but firm. Her tears flowed freely, but her smile held something unbreakable.This must be the first time I've seen something through my power.

And that child never lived beyond twenty years. Now, he must be only fifteen.But don't worry, human child. I will find you. This time, the story will be different, Rose thought, her heart heavy with both sorrow and resolve.

---

Back in time.

Dr. Lucas clapped his hands together. "I know you all know each other, but please, introduce yourselves once more. Mr. Zane, you start."

Zane's cold, calculating gaze swept the room. "I am Zane. Twenty-five years old. My level is 1." He spoke with the same detached, almost indifferent tone, his dark eyes revealing little. His black hair fell neatly, and his towering presence was unsettling. A man of secrets and hidden agendas, Rose thought, sensing the mystery that clung to him like a shadow.

Cole's voice cut through the air with a quiet confidence. "I'm Cole. Twenty-five years old. Level 2." He stood at around 5'8", his brown hair slightly messy, but his demeanor was calm. There was something guarded in his eyes, a man who carried burdens he didn't wish to share. A mystery, but one I can almost read, Rose thought, noticing the distance he kept.

Lily's introduction was soft, her voice almost lost in the space between them. "I'm Lily. Twenty-three, level 3." Her beauty was understated, and she wore black as if it was her second skin. She stood at about 5'2", her quiet presence almost ethereal. She doesn't speak much, but I can feel the weight she carries. A soul wrapped in secrets, Rose reflected, sensing the hidden depths within her.

When the moment came for Rose to speak, she stood with confidence, her heart steady. "Hi, I'm Rose. Twenty-four, level 4." She knew exactly why she was here. Her past, her powers—this mission was the only path to understanding who she truly was. I'm here to find something. To change something. And she thought, her resolve clear.

James stepped forward next, his smile warm yet tinged with concern. "I'm James. Twenty-four years old. Level 5." His eyes were kind, and his bright brown hair framed his face, making him seem approachable. He wore glasses, which added a thoughtful air to his demeanor. "Please, take care of me when we're on missions together." His plea was genuine, yet Rose couldn't help but wonder, What is he hiding behind that kindness?

Yuri's youthful voice was full of energy, her ponytails bouncing as she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Yuri. Seventeen years old. Level 6." Rose blinked, surprised by her age. I expected someone older, but Yuri seems so young, so innocent. A bright spark in this dark world. She was only five feet tall, but her presence felt bigger than that. Her youth is a mystery in itself, Rose thought, feeling the weight of the responsibility she bore at such a young age.

Arthur spoke next, his tone steady and calm. "I'm Arthur. Twenty-one, level 7." He stood at 5'7", with a quiet confidence that seemed to mirror his sister's. He's protective of her. I can see that. But what is he truly after? Rose thought, watching him carefully.

Emily's introduction was direct, her voice firm but neutral. "I'm Emily. Twenty-five, level 8." She had short hair, and bangs that framed her face. There was something cool, almost distant about her. She has a guarded warmth, but what lies beneath? Rose wondered, intrigued by the ambiguity Emily carried with her.

"Now that the introductions are complete," Dr. Lucas said, turning to the board. "Thomas, move the cover."

But Rose's attention was caught by Zane, who was staring at her intently. She could feel his gaze piercing her, as if he knew something she didn't. She was about to look away when his voice crept into her mind, whispered in a way that made her skin crawl.

Are—are what? You—You? Done—done? Reading—reading? People—people?

The words rang in her mind, disorienting her. How did he know? What is he trying to say?

Without missing a beat, she turned to him, her voice sharp. "Mind your business."

Zane smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. How interesting, he thought, but Rose didn't need to see his face to know the silent game he was playing.

---

On the board before them was a map, its jagged lines etched in stark contrast to the black background, a labyrinth of uncertainty. Dr. Lucas's voice sliced through the silence, cold and commanding. "Your mission is clear. Find the cure."

A shiver ran down Rose's spine. The words felt wrong, like a curse wrapped in the guise of a command."Are you sure we're really going to find the cure?" Rose asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to stay composed. Her eyes locked on the map, but it seemed to twist and writhe before her. "Or are we just being led to the very thing that will end us?"

The question echoed in the air, a chilling whisper that seemed to echo from the depths of the room itself. The map, with its sinister paths and dead ends, loomed like a trap, its purpose unclear and its dangers unspoken. once they set foot on this path, there would be no turning back.

Dr. Lucas's smile was too perfect, his voice soft and soothing, designed to wrap around them like a comforting blanket.He walked slowly over to the map, his fingers brushing over the lines as if caressing them, a touch too careful,too deliberate.The warmth in his eyes never wavered as he locked his gaze with Rose's, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know you're afraid. That's only to be expected. But trust me, when you find it, when you uncover it, everything will make sense. All the pain, the suffering—it'll be justified."

Rose's lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't one of comfort or relief. It was a smile that didn't reach her eyes—cold, sharp, like a predator's grin. She saw through him, saw the cracks in his carefully constructed facade.The cure doesn't exist. She could feel it, the lie oozing from his every word, like a thick, sickening fog.

Her smile widened, a dark amusement in her eyes. He wants us to believe it, to keep us in the dark. Rose knew now—Dr. Lucas was playing a game,

A fool trying to fool others, Rose thought, a bitter laugh bubbling up in her chest. But in the end, it's the fools who are always the most dangerous, thinking they can control the game when they're just as trapped as the rest of us without knowing anything.She was no fool, though. She'd play along, for now, but she knew the truth.

The room seemed to close in on her, the walls whispering secrets she wasn't sure she wanted to hear. She wasn't here to find a cure. No. She was here for something far worse. Something that would unravel them all.Now it doesn't really matter, because everyone has their own purpose.

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(To be continued)

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