* * *
Ben clenched his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly to erase the afterimages clinging to his retinas, but they wouldn’t go away.
There was no evidence. No logic. No reason.
It was pure instinct—the belief that, if he passed through this rift, he would be there.
Beyond that space, 100 percent, he would be waiting.
It was absurd, irrational—but Ben’s mind insisted it was true.
“…Haa.”
Ben took a deep breath as he stepped forward.
In truth, maybe this was just running away.
He wanted to escape—the remnants eating away at his sanity.
That’s why, for others this massive hole may have screamed death, but to Ben, it felt like the only exit.
Not once did he think Haimar wouldn’t be beyond this endless sky.
For a brief second, doubt crept in—what if Haimar didn’t see the message?
What if he wouldn’t help Ben land safely?—but the quiet certainty in his chest drowned those thoughts.
In his frozen, trembling hand, his own hastily sent message blinked on the phone screen—nonsensical, even to him—but his hands were so cold, there wasn’t time to write anything longer.
Still, [I’m coming. Now.] conveyed everything he needed to say.
The only problem was that his destination happened to be the sky itself.
But that was fine.
This much was enough.
If he made a phone call instead, he’d probably start whining without meaning to.
Sending a short message like this—it was the perfect trigger to act without hesitation.
It’ll work out… somehow.
Even though his face still carried traces of hesitation, dust and dirt smeared over his features, Ben steadily backed up a few steps, preparing for a running start.
Then, after counting briefly—
“One… two—!”
He leaped, blending into the rain of debris.
Shhhhhh—!!
There was nothing beneath his feet, the terrifying sensation of pure emptiness.
His legs thrashed uselessly in the air.
Razor-sharp winds sliced past him, threatening to rip his ears apart.
It was true freefall.
His eyes stung from the wind, forcing him to shut them, but soon Ben forced them wide open—he couldn’t afford to miss even the smallest sign.
Fragments of debris brushed dangerously close to his body, dust and rubble pelting him mercilessly.
He’d expected this, but one wrong fall meant certain death.
Curling his arms around his head, Ben squeezed his fists tight, nerves stretched taut.
‘This… this might’ve been a really bad idea—’
Whoosh—!
Before regret could fully settle in, a massive chunk of debris tore through the air overhead.
The shockwave dwarfed that of a passing train.
His body was thrown violently off balance, his limbs flailing uncontrollably.
Without anything to hold onto, it felt like a chaotic amusement park ride.
He spun helplessly mid-air, vision whirling as dizziness overtook him.
Still, somehow, when he managed to turn his head, the ground came into view in the distance.
But as the land rushed up to him faster and faster with each passing moment, it was impossible to hold on to that firm resolve alone without feeling a wave of anxiety creeping in.
He had jumped without fear, boldly, recklessly—but now, with the realization that he might actually be smashed to the ground like this, worry gnawed at him.
Sure, he had something to rely on, but without seeing it right in front of him, the uneasiness only grew.
Damn it, please—!
As his body spun helplessly like a pinwheel, swept along by the wind, the moment he flipped over completely and faced the ground again, Ben saw a golden light approaching him.
—!
The moment he saw it, he just knew.
With his ordinary human eyesight, Ben couldn’t confirm with certainty that it was Haimar.
But instinctively, without anyone needing to say it, he understood.
Even with a passing glance, that distinct, radiant color—there was nothing else in the world that could be.
“Haimar—!”
Ben shouted with all his might, stretching his arms out without hesitation.
So Haimar could catch him, so he could also grab hold of Haimar.
The vivid golden light rapidly drew closer, until its shape became recognizable.
The distance between Haimar and him, between their fingertips, their gazes, intertwined rapidly.
And finally, at the very moment they met, time itself seemed to halt mid-air.
Though he was still falling, the anxiety that had overwhelmed him moments ago vanished completely, replaced by a brilliant joy that shone in Ben’s emerald eyes.
The moment his fingertips brushed against the other’s was brief.
Before he could utter a word, Ben was pulled in by the wrist and firmly embraced by Haimar.
Reflexively, Ben wrapped his arms tightly around Haimar’s back as well.
The embrace was so firm it felt as though a secure seatbelt had finally been fastened on a rollercoaster that had been dangerously running wild.
As his face buried against the curve of Haimar’s neck, a familiar scent instantly filled his senses.
Just moments ago, all he could smell was blood and the acrid stench of dust, but now it was as though his dulled senses had been purified.
A long-missed, comforting sensation returned.
“You’re late.”
“…I’m sorry.”
The low voice whispered right by his ear, making Ben obediently take on a repentant posture.
He didn’t have a word of excuse, even if he had ten mouths.
He hadn’t done anything well enough to defend himself, nor did he have the audacity to make excuses.
So he quietly lowered his eyes.
What filled his vision now was the rapidly approaching ground, less than fifty meters away—a reality he couldn’t afford to ignore.
Boom—!
The sharp sound of air splitting thundered in his ears, making Ben flinch.
It was just from being startled, but Haimar’s arms tightened protectively around his waist.
Every time Haimar’s feet stepped onto the air, the scenery around them twisted dizzyingly, countless objects flashing past like streaks of light.
Fortunately, none of those posed any real threat to him or Haimar.
Buildings or debris that charged at them were swiftly dodged as Haimar twisted mid-air, and even the near misses were effortlessly shattered into fragments by his skillful movements.
But as they say, after one hurdle comes another.
Looking down toward the ground, Ben spotted a red-haired woman pointing a shiny gun barrel straight at them.
In the woman’s eyes, fleeting confusion surfaced.
Amidst the storm of falling debris, among the few humans plummeting from the sky, one was Haimar Eilec, leaping toward another.
A faint crease of hesitation appeared between her brows, as if trying to piece together their connection—but it wasn’t a question with an easy answer.
And by the time she witnessed the two of them locked in an embrace, defying the chaos of the sky, Roilnia abandoned reason and raised her gun, led solely by emotion.
Because no matter what, she could neither comprehend nor accept this.
A glint of light reflected off the gun barrel below, catching Ben’s eye.
He and Haimar were still tightly locked together, so naturally, the angle of the incoming bullet was toward Haimar’s back—Ben’s front.
Even a child would understand that Roilnia was about to mercilessly fire.
“No—!”
Sure, people joked that Haimar probably had eyes in the back of his head, but Ben’s body moved faster than his thoughts.
Bang—!
The gunshot rang out the moment Ben tightly wrapped his arms around Haimar’s shoulders, shielding his face with his own body.
But strangely, there was no pain.
Had they managed to avoid the bullet?
But before he could even process the situation, a crushing wave of gravity overwhelmed him.
“Ugh—?!”
Crash—!
And then they truly, mercilessly slammed into the ground.
No exaggeration—it was a straight vertical collision.
A cloud of dust spread out in all directions, enveloping both him and Haimar.
Even the flurry of attacks from above came to an abrupt halt.
But the impact had left its mark; the ground where they landed was deeply dented like a crater.
“Ugh…”
They had been slammed to the ground like rag dolls, yet surprisingly, he wasn’t in that much pain.
By all rights, his body should’ve been shattered to pieces, instant death a certainty.
But the fact that he was relatively intact was undoubtedly thanks to the man shielding him.
The situation was a mess, but curled tightly in Haimar’s embrace, Ben’s dominant feeling wasn’t fear—it was relief.
His mind, once in chaos, gradually steadied.
Even the persistent hallucinations that had clung to him seemed to fade away.
Ben slowly opened his eyes, studying Haimar.
“A-Are you okay?”
He himself was strangely unharmed, so if anyone got hurt, it had to be Haimar.
As Ben gently brushed the pale dust from Haimar’s hair and asked, Haimar, still lying on top of him, shifted his arms to support himself and locked eyes with Ben.
Though his eyelids drooped heavily, his gaze remained steady as he scanned Ben’s face before parting his lips.
“Is this the state you wanted me to wait around to see you in?”
“…That wasn’t the plan… Sorry about that.”
For a moment, Ben wondered what Haimar meant, but a glance at his own appearance told him everything.
Blood stains, cuts along his cheeks, bruises blooming blue across his neck—it was a sorry sight.
But at least his life wasn’t in danger, and right now, Haimar’s condition was the priority.
So Ben awkwardly deflected, instinctively reaching up to touch Haimar’s face.
* * *
