At last, they reached their destination. A military vehicle was waiting, its engine still running. Several officers stood nearby, checking equipment. As they approached, Lieutenant Do-hyun stepped out of the car. He seemed to recognize one of the members from the Ventilation Department, and the two exchanged a few hurried words.
Trisen couldn't hear what they were talking about, nor could he understand their expressions, but after a moment the ventilation officer nodded and moved away.
Lieutenant Do-hyun turned toward Treason and the soldiers.
"Come on, hurry up. We don't have much time," Do-hyun urged with a straight face.
Treason guessed that this car would take them to a safe bunker, so he followed quickly. The doors shut, and the vehicle began moving.
Do-hyun watched him for a moment, his eyes sharp, but he said nothing. He then spoke to the soldiers outside, instructing them on the next steps. Soon, more military vehicles departed, heading toward different rescue bunkers.
As their car drove through the ruined district, Treason stared outside the window. Nothing looked normal.
The 9.5 earthquake that had shattered the world left nothing untouched. Mist now blanketed the skyline so heavily that even the tallest buildings looked like fading shadows. It was a city without people—silent, gray, and suffocating.
"Wasn't I in my dad's world just moments ago?" Treason wondered."And now I'm back again… I don't understand anything anymore. Is God playing with me?"
As he sank deeper into confusion, a soldier sitting beside him spoke.
"Hey… what's your name?"
Treason froze for a second. His real identity was complicated, and he didn't want it revealed.
"My name is Trisen," he answered calmly. "Just Trisen."
The soldier nodded. "I'm just an ordinary soldier, you don't need to remember me. But… can I ask something? How did you survive? Most people exposed to the mist for more than a month suffer serious health issues. Even adults like us need gas masks all the time."
Before the soldier could continue, Treason responded firmly.
"Yes, it's a miracle. I survived because I was in the ICU. The ventilation system there worked properly, so no mist entered. I couldn't move, so I stayed in the room the whole time. My doctors probably tried to evacuate, but maybe they couldn't. My memory… it's blurry. The last thing I remember is waking up and seeing your ventilation team checking for leaks in the hospital."
The soldier nodded."I see. So the ICU saved you. That's a miracle, really."
He gestured outside the window.
"You know, this Songwa District is one of the most populated and important areas in Seoul. After most civilians evacuated, things became… chaotic."
Another soldier sitting across from them spoke. She smiled gently.
"My name is Eun-ji, by the way. And this is Ha-yoon," she said, pointing to the soldier next to her.
"Thanks," Treason replied. "I want to know more about what's going on. I don't have enough information."
"You can check the internet," Ha-yoon said lightly. "If the signals are stable."
Treason forced a smile, though his face looked tired. His sad attempt at a joke made them all laugh slightly despite the grim situation.
Eun-ji continued,"We rescue survivors and take them to bunkers, but… we don't have enough time or supplies to save everyone. The World Association's President, Gotham Methon, ordered all sector commanders to stabilize their regions. Our own Sector President, Kang Mathon, is working nonstop."
She pointed at the symbol on her uniform.
"That's why the Ventilation Department was created—to clear the mist from homes and buildings. The scientists don't fully understand the mist, but they discovered patterns. Ventilating contaminated areas slows its effects."
Treason nodded slowly."That's… a smart idea. Even without full knowledge, acting fast matters."
Before anyone could say more, Do-hyun spoke sharply:
"We've arrived."
The vehicle stopped in front of a massive underground gate—Bunker No. 35.
The steel doors opened with a deep mechanical groan. Beyond them stretched a long tunnel, illuminated by harsh industrial lights. As they moved inside, Treason felt a chill.
They returned to the bunker. At first glance, it wasn't particularly grand—just a labyrinth of reinforced concrete and flickering fluorescent lights. However, its true value lay in its isolation; it was a sealed tomb against the outside world. Advanced filtration systems hummed behind the walls, churning tirelessly to scrub the "Mist Power" from the air, keeping the corruption at bay.
Adrian watched as soldiers stood like statues at every junction. A guide led him away from the military wing and toward the civilian quarters.
"Go through there," a soldier named Yuan commanded, gesturing toward a heavy steel door.
Adrian stepped inside and was immediately hit by the sheer density of humanity. This wasn't a home; it was a holding pen. Hundreds of refugees were packed into a massive underground hall divided into cramped, makeshift rooms. The air tasted of recycled oxygen and unwashed bodies.
The scenes were a mosaic of despair and boredom: some people sat mindlessly staring at the ceiling, others were drenched in sweat from the humid air, and a few were huddled in corners, whispering.
A man in a crisp, gray uniform approached Adrian. He didn't carry a rifle, but he carried a tablet and an air of weary authority. This was the floor manager.
"Wait there," the man said, checking his screen. "Is your name Trisen? Are you the new refugee?"
"Yes," Adrian replied, adapting to the alias. "I am Trisen. Lieutenant Kang sent me here."
Manager Han nodded, not looking up. "Right. You've been processed. I'm assigning you to a living unit and a work detail. Here." He handed Adrian a small, chipped plastic card. "This is your pass. Don't lose it. Without it, you don't eat."
The Shared Unit
Adrian took the pass, but instead of heading straight to his bunk, he wandered deeper into the sector. His rough, tattered clothes drew stares—some of curiosity, others of cold suspicion. He realized he looked like someone who had just crawled out of the mouth of the Mist.
He finally reached his assigned unit. Inside, he found a small "family" of strangers:
Ji-hoon, A lanky teenager with restless eyes.
Min-ho, A burly, middle-aged man who looked like a former laborer.
Sook-ja, A stern but tired woman who sat just outside the doorway, watching the corridor.
"New blood?" Min-ho asked, looking Adrian up and down. He gestured to a corner of the cramped room. "I'm Min-ho. That's the kid, Ji-hoon. Sook-ja keeps watch so no one steals our boots while we sleep."
"I'm Trisen," Adrian said, sitting down.
Sook-ja reached into a small bag and pulled out a piece of dry, compressed bread. She broke off a corner and tossed it to him. It wasn't much, but in this place, it was a gesture of peace.
"Eat," she said shortly. "You look like you've seen a ghost. We aren't a family by blood, but in this sector, we're all we've got. Our actual families... well, they're probably in the deeper sectors. Or gone."
Adrian chewed the dry bread, listening to the hum of the air filters. His first day in the bunker had begun.