Savior Proto-Call Chapter 1

Chapter 1. No Longer Human (1)

O nameless god who exists in the incomprehensible world of those who worship you.

Before the countless lives restored, the process has lost all meaning, while the few who perished along the way now serve as the foundation upon which those lives stand.

Is it right to piece together one person's life using another's breath?

Can an imperfect salvation truly be called salvation?

And who, then, will save those sacrificed in the name of salvation?

Please show them mercy as well, and grant them the strength to claw their way out of the abyss.

— □□□ Salvation Code SW0121-1031, 58th Individual Report —

Salvation Agency Headquarters.

Located in front of Seoul Station, the building was surprisingly quiet for a place responsible for overseeing nearly every matter concerning ability users.

The research wing on the fourth basement floor, which also served as a medical facility, was similarly deserted. However, during certain periods, outsiders would occasionally visit.

All citizens of the Republic of Korea between the ages of 16 and 29 who have passed the health suitability assessment are required to receive an injection of 'Ability Awakening – 9958.' Refusal to undergo the injection without justifiable cause may result in a fine of at least 100 million won and a prison sentence of at least five years.

Accompanied by this notice, the administration of 'Ability Awakening – 9958,' conducted once in the first half of the year and once in the second, was a compulsory measure designed to produce ability users.

Supernatural abilities were a phenomenon known as Phantasm.

They were symptoms of contamination caused by exposure to a substance called Cyan, which made up the interior of an anomalous phenomenon known overseas as a 'DOOR.'

For that reason, supernatural abilities were classified as a 'disease.' Nevertheless, attempts to induce their manifestation artificially continued and were even encouraged.

As long as a person's Cyan contamination level remained at 80 percent or below, or they retained their rationality, they could be classified as an 'ability user' rather than a monster commonly referred to as a 'Fragment.'

Those infected with Cyan retained human reasoning while acquiring inexplicable special abilities similar to those possessed by Fragments.

Ironically, that made them the only beings capable of fighting Fragments.

Thus, humanity began producing ability users incessantly, even if it meant creating them artificially.

Consequently, anyone between the ages of seventeen and twenty-nine without a specific disqualifying condition was required to receive 'Ability Awakening – 9958,' a drug that induced supernatural abilities.

If you don't want everyone to fucking die, volunteer yourselves.

What an absolutely marvelous display of patriotism, founded on such a noble spirit of sacrifice.

Yoon Doha let out a bitter laugh inwardly and sighed repeatedly.

She was one of the people who fit perfectly within the requirements of that inhumane, compulsory law.

Yoon Doha had participated in the injection program conducted in February of that year.

And now, a month after receiving the injection—

She had walked back and forth through the sterile, chilly corridor more than ten times. The sheer inconvenience of having to make so many visits was beginning to irritate her.

Yoon Doha gently rubbed the injection marks remaining on her forearm with her fingertips.

Whether the people administering the injections were inexperienced or the drug itself was simply that harsh, the bruises on her arm had barely had a chance to fade throughout the entire month.

With an unpleasant premonition that the rest of her life might involve far more scars and bloodshed than this, Yoon Doha looked up at the woman standing before her.

The researcher, who had introduced herself as Kim Jaehee, had the slender build commonly associated with researchers in the media. Her round glasses further enhanced her intelligent appearance.

A certain coldness, befitting her rational disposition, seeped into her manner.

Looking down at the thick stack of Yoon Doha's contamination test results, Kim Jaehee delivered the announcement in a mechanical voice.

"Based on the combined results of all eight contamination measurements, we have confirmed that your ability has manifested."

Despite receiving a result that would follow her like a label for the rest of her life, Doha neither fell into despair nor burst into tears.

She remained composed, even knowing that the path awaiting her would be anything but smooth.

Instead, Yoon Doha simply tugged down the sleeves of her cardigan, which she had rolled up to her elbows.

After all, she'd undergone eight examinations, twice a week, to confirm her manifestation after receiving the injection.

She had been informed of this standard procedure when signing the injection consent form.

But since she'd already been told during the second examination that her ability had manifested, there was no reason for her to feel particularly moved by the official confirmation now.

Even if that weren't the case, Yoon Doha no longer had any despair left to waste on unnecessary disappointment.

"As for your ability type, we won't be able to determine it precisely until you've completed the program at the Salvation Academy. However, based on our analysis of your neural signals, we estimate that it belongs to the Special Category, specifically physical transformation."

After delivering the explanation indifferently, Kim Jaehee began rummaging through the pile of papers as though searching for something.

She was so absorbed in her search that she didn't even notice her glasses slipping down to the tip of her nose.

Special Category. Physical transformation.

What exactly is supposed to transform?

Looking at previous cases, some people's bodies had transformed into human-animal hybrids, commonly called furries. Others had become completely covered in metal-like substances.

And then there were mutations so bizarre that the human mind could scarcely comprehend them.

...I really don't like the sound of that.

When people heard the word awakening, didn't they usually imagine becoming an ability user and immediately gaining mastery over some incredible power?

Unfortunately, that was nothing more than a fantasy found in novels.

Apparently, there were occasional cases of people manifesting their powers spectacularly in the recovery room, but those were rare.

In reality, unless someone completed the necessary training to recognize and unlock their own abilities, their newfound powers were little more than impressive-looking but useless decorations.

"Generally, determining an ability type takes anywhere from one day to one week. Therefore, until you enroll, I strongly advise you not to use your ability or even attempt to activate it. Unless you're a naturally awakened individual, the first activation of an ability is usually induced artificially. Even if you manage to use it, doing so may be considered unauthorized ability use and could result in punishment."

Just as Doha was growing bored with the lengthy explanation, Kim Jaehee pulled two documents from the thick stack and handed them over.

Perhaps because she'd been in such a hurry, several parts of the papers were creased like cracked glass.

"These are your Awakening Confirmation Certificate and Enrollment Guide. There isn't much you need to familiarize yourself with. Just remember that once you enter the Salvation Academy, you won't be permitted to leave the premises without authorization or withdraw voluntarily until your official discharge. Of course, exceptions may be made if you qualify for early discharge under the regulations, as stated in the Salvation Academy guidebook I showed you earlier."

Oh, you mean those perfectly rational regulations that allow them to forcibly discharge anyone who suffers injuries severe enough to prevent ability use, or develops mental problems that could pose a danger to others, all under the excuse of preserving the nation and protecting humanity?

Doha wasn't particularly familiar with past cases, but she did know that discharged ability users had been forcibly hospitalized at the Special Medical Center under the Bureau of Savior Management.

Yoon Doha vaguely recalled the paragraphs written on the first page of the guidebook she'd received when she was initially informed of her awakening.

Now that your ability has manifested, we'll drag you in and train you into a weapon. But the moment you become useless or turn your gun toward the government, we'll cut you loose without hesitation.

Faced with such an extraordinarily rational policy, Yoon Doha groaned inwardly.

In the past, she'd heard news of ability users being discharged under such circumstances and simply brushed it off without much thought.

But now that she found herself in the same position, the unfair treatment ability users endured had become painfully clear.

...Those motherfuckers are exploiting sick people down to the bone.

Despite the vicious curse running through her mind, Yoon Doha tilted her head slightly, her eyes appearing as gentle and innocent as ever.

Perhaps sensing a subtle pressure in her gaze, Kim Jaehee stopped straightening the uneven corners of the documents and asked curiously,

"Do you have any questions?"

"...No, none."

"Very well, then. Thank you for your cooperation. Congratulations on your awakening."

With those polite words, Kim Jaehee gave Yoon Doha a small bow.

She adjusted the bundle of A4 papers in her arms, turned around, and strode briskly down the stark-white corridor.

Doha belatedly bowed in return, though unless Kim Jaehee had eyes in the back of her head, there was no way she could have seen it.

Yoon Doha silently stared down the corridor, where Kim Jaehee's white lab coat blended so seamlessly into the surroundings that there was hardly any distinction between them.

Her vision soon began to blur.

The long fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling were so bright that she felt as though her eyeballs might pop out.

"Working here would give you a mental illness even if you didn't already have one."

She muttered cynically while surveying the corridor.

Staring at this place for too long seemed enough to drive someone insane.

Pure-white protective walls, transparent glass partitions, and the occasional warning sign.

The rows of doors made from special alloys reminded Yoon Doha somewhat of the psychiatric wards depicted in movies and television.

It was such an eerie scene that she wouldn't have been surprised if a virus-infected person suddenly smashed through one of the glass panels and crawled out.

Well, in a way, maybe calling this place a hospital ward isn't entirely wrong.

The problem was that she, too, was someone who'd contracted an infectious disease.

And she'd done so voluntarily.

Only after Kim Jaehee's figure disappeared around the L-shaped bend at the end of the corridor did Yoon Doha turn and head in the opposite direction.

Passing the drug administration room, recovery room, intensive recovery room, and a series of unidentified rooms without nameplates, she casually skimmed the Awakening Confirmation Certificate and Enrollment Guide in her hands.

A thin scar ran diagonally across the outer corner of her left eye, beneath the shadows that darkened it.

AWAKENING CONFIRMATION CERTIFICATE

Issuing Institution: Salvation Agency (Seoul Branch / Headquarters)

Name: Yoon Doha

Sex: Female

Age: 17

Resident Registration Number: 290901-4******

Registration Number: NW0123-290901

Ability Category: Special Category — Physical Transformation (Further details to be recorded following subsequent research)

Awakening Grade: Grade 3

Phantom Pain Symptoms: Not Manifested

Grade 3 Awakener.

The distribution of awakeners across Grades 1 through 5 resembled a boa constrictor that had swallowed an elephant.

Grades 1 and 5 contained the fewest individuals, while the numbers swelled dramatically toward Grade 3.

Considering the overall distribution, her grade was perfectly average.

It was too low to make her a suitable candidate for a leadership position on the front lines, but it wasn't low enough to justify wasting her potential in the rear.

Her grade placed her in a position where she could reasonably expect to stay alive and earn a decent salary.

Provided she didn't suffer some debilitating injury that forced her out of service, or get unlucky enough to be assigned the position of a Redeemer.

With an indifferent expression, Yoon Doha put aside the certificate and pulled out the Enrollment Guide.

Then, almost unconsciously, she looked straight ahead.

Although she'd been walking rather slowly while reading, the elevator was still quite far away.

For some reason, the underground research wing was built like an enormous maze.

As though someone had deliberately designed it that way.

To make matters worse, Yoon Doha had actually gotten lost during her first visit.

Just remembering that ordeal was enough to make her head ache.

Anyone who had never experienced getting lost in a place where everything was completely white couldn't possibly understand how panic-inducing it was.

"The enrollment date is... two weeks from now? That's ridiculously tight."

Yoon Doha frowned as she examined the guide.

Today was Friday, so considering her enrollment date, she didn't have much time to prepare.

Of course, she'd already begun making various preparations for entering the academy from the day she'd first been informed of her awakening.

However, she still hadn't told the managers at any of the four places where she worked part-time.

Just thinking about having to contact each of them individually was a hassle.

"I guess I should contact the managers today. If I print out the awakening certificate and send it to them..."

Thoom. Thud. Thud.

Aside from the mechanical noises continually produced by the electrical wiring, drainage pipes, and ventilation ducts embedded behind the walls, the deserted research corridor had been completely silent.

But now, an irregular series of vibrations began to mingle with those sounds.

Yoon Doha flinched, her shoulders jerking upward as though she were especially sensitive to noise, and lifted her head.

At first glance, the corridor ahead remained as white and empty as ever.

When she held her breath, however, she could perceive the faint vibrations more distinctly.

They were so subtle that she could only detect them by closing her mouth and concentrating.

Whatever was happening, it seemed to be taking place some distance away.

Yoon Doha stopped walking.

Her normally gentle eyes narrowed as she stared toward the corner that appeared to be the source of the noise.

A faint tension settled in her pupils.

The bend concealed whatever lay beyond it, but the sounds echoing through the corridor grew steadily louder.

Beneath the thin soles of her sneakers, she could clearly feel the ground trembling at irregular intervals.

There was an unpleasant scraping noise, as though something made of stiff material were being dragged forcefully across the floor and torn apart.

It was the unmistakable sound of someone running.

There's no reason for anyone to be running that desperately in a corridor so quiet that even an alarm would seem out of place.

As her back gradually stiffened, Yoon Doha folded the papers in her hand in half, then in half again, and slowly tilted her head.

Before long, a human voice joined the commotion, distorted and muffled beneath the jumble of other noises.

It sounded as though someone was calling out.

Or perhaps it was simply a scream.

Stuffing the folded papers into her cardigan pocket, Doha found herself overcome by an inexplicably unpleasant feeling.

Becoming indirectly aware of something unknown only invited unnecessary and troublesome speculation.

And that was especially true for someone as easily frightened as Yoon Doha.

Although calling it fear wasn't entirely accurate.

It was more like a defensive instinct she'd developed through everyday experience.

After all, wasn't an unusual noise suddenly erupting from a corridor full of laboratories exactly the sort of development you'd see in a horror movie?

At the very least, Yoon Doha wasn't the type of person who would deliberately open a door marked DO NOT ENTER only to get her head chopped off.

Her pounding heart thundered in her ears, and a suffocating pressure battered her chest, pressing so heavily against her throat that she could barely swallow.

And just as that ominous premonition began crawling up her spine—

A pure-white object suddenly appeared around the corner.

Startled by its abrupt appearance, Yoon Doha's eyes flew wide open, and she stumbled backward a couple of steps.

...What the hell is that white ball of fur?

When she regained her composure, she realized that what she'd seen wasn't a ball of fur at all.

It was a person's head.

A head covered in snow-white hair, so wildly disheveled that it could have rivaled the shaggy coat of a Sapsali dog.