CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Refractions
The light buzzed above him—too bright, too still.
Seungbae stepped back from the mirror, but the reflection didn't follow.
It stood there, frozen, watching him.
Behind the glass, he blinked.
But Seungbae didn't.
A whisper slid beneath the hum of the hospital lights:
"Which one are you?"
His breath hitched.
Was he awake? Was he dreaming? Or had he slipped into something in between—something too lucid, too deliberate?
He looked down. His hands were steady. Too steady. His skin was warm. Too warm.
The corridor behind him was gone. Now, only walls.
Endless, seamless, white walls.
He turned. The door to Room 306 was closed again.
No handles. No hinges.
Just sealed.
He backed away. One step. Then another. And then—his foot hit something soft.
A slow, wet sound.
He looked down.
Blood.
Pooling beneath his feet. Dark, syrup-thick. It ran from beneath the sealed door, spreading like a quiet scream.
The lights above flickered.
Then—
The hallway fractured.
A crack ran down the wall, spidering like ice across glass.
Reality itself groaned— Like it was holding its breath.
And the door opened.
No creak. No swing.
It simply disappeared.
Inside, the hospital bed was gone. Instead: a chair. And someone sitting in it.
Yoonbum.
But not the trembling, stammering boy Seungbae remembered. This Yoonbum sat still. Calm. Hands folded in his lap.
He looked up with hollow eyes. "You never caught him." His voice was quiet. Flat. "And now he's inside you."
Seungbae's mouth felt dry.
He tried to speak— But the words didn't come. Like someone else had stolen his voice.
Yoonbum stood.
Took a step closer.
"You followed Sangwoo so long, you forgot who you were without him."
The walls pulsed.
Heartbeat monitor flatlined in the distance— One long, terrible note.
Yoonbum kept walking until they stood face to face.
He tilted his head.
"So tell me, Seungbae…""Who do you think woke up?"