Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Bureau.
Underground facility.
Artificial light; a small break room with a fake window, covered by a curtain.
A board overrun with sentimental writings—

“Agent?”

An agent entered the room, piercing deep blue eyes peering through the doorway. He gazed at this senior who seemed to be in a daze, a hand lifted, carefully touching the edge of the board.

“Ah, Bronze-yah.”

The older agent tore his gaze from the board and faced his hubae, grin creeping in despite himself.

“...”

Gently, Bronze closed the door behind him. He nodded, faintly, as a greeting to Choi. His eyes traced the other agent as he beelined to the cluttered desk, piled with papers, documents, and notes. A laptop had been sitting in the midst of the organized mess; Bronze wordlessly opened it. He pressed the ‘on’ button, waiting for it to boot. Soon enough, the screen lit up, its glow reflecting in Bronze’s eyes.

“Agent Choi,” he spoke as his fingers began to type, “I heard that you had taken another patrol mission. I thought you already left.”

Choi shrugged and casually paced around the small room. He slipped his scarred hands into his pockets and assumed a carefree, peppy posture. He tilted his head ever slightly; closing his eyes with a whimsical smile tugged at his face—almost wistful.

“I just wanted to soak in everyone's encouragement before I went, Bronze-yah.”

A twitch.

Bronze’s brows knitted faintly as his fingers faltered, hovering over the keyboard. For a brief moment, the pause in his typing made the clock’s steady ticking sound louder.

Unbearable stillness.

He stifled a sigh, taking in the brief silence. He didn’t lift his head—just continued the report he should be working on. Still, he felt compelled to speak. His typing pace slowed down as he gave his senior a piece of his mind.

“...I heard this mission is supposed to be quiet and straightforward, Agent.”

At Bronze’s deadpan tone, Choi almost laughed; a grin crept back onto his face.

“We wouldn't know, would we? That's merely the nature of ‘ghost stories’, don't you think?”

Step.

A step closer to the desk, he reached for a blue notebook—its spine and edges worn thin from use. Choi slipped it into his pocket before heading for the door. Feeling the metallic handle in his grip, he twisted it, then stilled.

He turned back to face his hubae.

Cheerfully—

—a faux cheerfulness, to be exact.

“I'm off, Bronze-ah!”

A soft ‘click’ marked the senior agent’s departure, his footsteps fading down the corridor. Bronze’s gaze lingered on the door. Only when the sound fully disappeared did he finally exhale—deep, slow, and weary.

Was it contrition?
Was it unease, inquietude?

The younger agent’s gaze drifted back to the laptop screen, settling there as if by habit rather than choice. He picked up his pace; the sharp clacking of the keyboard began to fill the room, crowding out everything else.

Only he would know, of course.
Unless…

…unless…

…unless what?

The report blurred into routine—mission details, timestamps, facts stripped of weight. Work that still needed to be done. Responsibilities that didn’t loosen their grip just because the mission had ended.

His mission. His role. The Bureau.

—taptaptap—

It never stopped. They moved forward because stopping was never an option. Himself. Agent Choi. The Bureau—

—taptaptaptaptap—

Pressing on, the way they always had.

—taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap—

Because as long as they were breathing, as long as their hands could still move—

Until when?

…

…

…is there even any answer to that?

The typing continued, filling the silence he didn’t dare leave empty.

The hallway lights hummed overhead, steady and indifferent. Cameras followed nothing and everything at once, their lenses dark. Choi’s footsteps echoed softly, swallowed almost as soon as they were made—as if the underground had learned how to keep secrets better than people did.

“Yah, Agent Choi.”

The echoing footsteps ceased. Both his, and another that had accompanied him like a ghost.

In the midst of an empty underground hallway, Choi came to a halt. A voice came from behind, as if already anticipating his existence. Unhurriedly, he turned his head—gradual and deliberate—toward the one who had called his name. His eyes narrowed, carefully scanning the figure that emerged from the corner behind him.

White hair, a black durumagi over his Bureau uniform. The manshin tilted his head.

Choi recognized him immediately.

“Hyeonhwa-ssi! Fancy to meet you here.”

With a backstep, his body angled slightly toward the manshin agent. Choi inclined his head, flashing a bright smile at Hyeonhwa—eyes curling into crescents. One hand slipped into his pocket while the other waved with vigor—the tips of his fingers found the rough edges of the notebook within his pocket. He caressed it, feeling its weight pulling down his jacket.

“…”

Hyeonhwa toyed with their jade earring. Their eyes flicked toward Choi, expression unreadable, dulled by lethargy.

“That mission of yours.”

They spoke shortly, as if weighing the words. 

Catching the subtle hesitation, Choi's upturned eyes cracked open; revealing a pair of intense blue pupils boring into the manshin. 

“What, the village visitation?”

He pushed.

“For you to come all the way here—”
one leisurely step forward,
“—is there a foreboding disaster waiting for me?”

Hyeonhwa's fingers paused. Their unseeing eyes land their line of sight at the senior agent, briefly, as drifted trailed away. Choi carried on, not minding the other's reaction.

“A warning?”
“A divination of yours?”

The manshin's eyebrows drawn taut—though it was barely noticeable unless one was familiar with him.

A few beats passed. An exhale followed, faint yet deep. The air of languor sunk around them.

“...If I say so, would you abide?”

Hyeonhwa cut a glance at the smiling man. Then he looked away, voice quieter when he continued.

“Someone like you wouldn’t know how to stop. You’d keep pushing—no matter what stood in the way.”

Choi shrugged, his ear nearly brushing his shoulder. He replied offhandedly.

“Well, you haven’t answered my question.”

At the casualness of his response, the other agent could only gape—subtly—as faint incredulity crossed his face. Annoyance tinged Hyeonhwa’s tongue.

Briefly, they closed their eyes, shoulders losing their tension.

“What else can I say…”

Quiet acceptance settled in. His voice dropped, words trailing off.

“Do not carelessly seek an [end].”
“The [end] would have found you either way.”

An eyebrow arched. With sanguine vanity, Choi pressed on.

“That sounded ominous,” a chuckle slipping from his throat. “Should I prepare a will? Ah—would a recording work?”

Hyeonhwa shook his head.

“Not like that…”

Silence fell between them, coating the hallway thickly. It lingered for a few heartbeats, long enough for the air to settle.

Then the manshin stepped away.

“Whatever you do with that information,” he said, already turning, “I can’t say how it will affect you.”

His steps were ever so soft as his presence vanished around the corner.

“Ha.”

Choi threw his head back, hands braced on his hips as he bent forward. His palms were clammy; the back of his neck prickled. He ignored it. Brushed his hair back instead, strands slipping through his fingers as he straightened.

“‘Whatever you do,’ he said.”

An agonizingly precise observation.

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He turned on his heel and walked on, unhurried. In his mind, he was already rehearsing what he’d say if anyone asked later—

—that he hadn’t been warned at all.

.

.

.

.

.

“Alright Roe, we're here!”

At the sound of Supervisor Badger’s voice, I raised my head. In front of us stood two wooden totem poles bearing carved demon faces. Each had hanja inscribed on them—or supposedly, since they weren’t comprehensible to me.

‘Uwaagh.’

The demon faces were… expressive. Fierce and grotesque, yet somehow their presence felt like a warning rather than a threat.

‘Weren't janseungs supposed to be a kind of village guardian…?’

I chose not to look at them for long.

Suppressing a shiver, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. My gaze drifted to the sides, toward the uncanny “border” of the Darkness we were about to explore—

“Here, Roe, catch!”

Out of nowhere, the Assistant Manager’s voice cut through my thoughts. She tossed something at me—a plaque about the size of my palm, rough and light. I scrambled to catch it, holding it gingerly.

Noru (Roe Deer)

The plaque bore my mask name, engraved and carefully inked. Something required to pass into this Darkness.

I tightened my grip on the plaque. This was supposed to be an easy exploration… However, there were not enough entries. It was one of the newer ghost stories in <Dark Exploration Record> that had yet to gain much traction.

I could only hope nothing went wrong inside.

‘Now, the requirement to enter…’

To destroy one’s identity.

None of us had brought our ID cards or any other objects that could be used to identify us—except the bamboo plaque issued to each of us.

I inched toward the Section Chief, who had started a fire. Following him and my two sunbaes, I threw my bamboo plaque into the fire, watching it burn silently.

As the plaques turned into charcoal, Assistant Manager Falcon stood up from her crouch, casually stretching.

“I’d love to have another smoke, but we need to enter soon, huh?”

She flicked the cigarette butt into the air before crushing it under her heel. She turned to me; a grin was visible beneath her half-mask.

“Well, with our Roe here, we can get out of here and take a break sooner, isn’t that right?”

“…You’re praising me too much, Assistant Manager.”

I scratched the back of my neck. Truth be told, I had been really nervous about this exploration… Compared to the other ghost stories I had read in <Darkness Exploration Record>, this one was truly lacking—there were simply not enough materials to analyze.

There was nothing that could be done about it, though.

We all stood, approaching the two jangseung.

I clenched my fists and took a deep breath as I followed the rest of D-Squad toward the gate—

[▇▇▇▇▇.]

I gasped.

The world around me lurched into blackness, spinning, and before I knew it, the entire squad was already inside what appeared to be some sort of structure, walls surrounding us. It was dark and rather damp. Each wall was made of smooth stone, cold to the touch.

Supervisor Badger, beside me, took a sharp inhale, his body bent at the waist with a hand pressed to his chest. The Assistant Manager also heaved, slowly regaining her composure.

Only the Section Chief seemed unbothered… I suppose being an alien had something to do with his sturdiness.

“Whew,” the Supervisor took another steadying breath, “that was more intense than I thought.”

Letting her fingers run through her hair, Assistant Manager Falcon replied curtly, “What did you expect?” She scanned around, one hand on her hip. “With brand-new Darknesses like this, we get little warning.”

She then canted her head toward me. “Roe, are you alright?”

For some reason, my heartbeat was out of rhythm. I inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled through my mouth.

“Yes.”

My hand left the wall as I straightened—it seemed that I had unconsciously leaned against it earlier.

‘What… what was that?’

An incomprehensible voice. What was that all about…? Was that voice calli—

I shook off the thought. A voice in a Darkness was never a good sign.

‘This wasn’t mentioned in the Exploration Records.’

Cold sweat started to prick at the back of my neck, but I tried my best to keep my composure. I raised my head, taking in the sight of my masked teammates, who were already recovering.

‘They’re already used to this, huh.’

“Alright!” the Assistant Manager exclaimed, turning her head. “Section Chief, you’re fine too, right? Asking just in case.”

“Yes.” The lizard head, as usual, replied with a short answer.

He reached into his suit jacket, withdrew a tightly rolled paper, and spread it open.

A map.

Using references from previous employees’ scribbles, the Research Team had kindly provided us with this improvised map.

But it could be inaccurate.

‘It was unknown if the maze would shift.’

Too little information regarding the Darkness. The maze, the nature of the entities... That was why the Research Team had given us another task—graphing the maze as we explored and simply observing, gathering any likely useful details.

Basically, our squad was getting thrown onto the lions.

Discreetly, I fished out a notebook and pencil out of my pocket.

Yes, that extra task had been given to me, the rookie.

I swallowed my sigh.

‘Think of the bonus points.’

“Let’s get going.”

The Section Chief led with the provided map. We followed behind. Moving forward with unspoken tension among us, my gaze scanned the surroundings.

A rather wide passage. Each turn was clearly visible, with several dead ends yet to be explored. The stone walls rose too high to jump over, their smooth, slightly slick surfaces offering no foothold. Sound carried too easily.

‘Maybe… with an item…’

I glanced at the Section Chief.

‘Could he climb it with his bizarre strength?’
‘Or even punch through it—’

I forced my attention back to my notebook. The scratch of my pencil was all I could hear in the silence. Nonetheless, there was a constant, imperceptible buzzing creeping in—

No.

My focus sharpened as the sound closed in.

The Section Chief’s slitted pupils narrowed. The Assistant Manager and the Supervisor also grew alert. Nodding at us, the Assistant Manager tapped Section Chief Lizard’s shoulder. We pressed ourselves against one of the walls, straining toward the approaching sound.

Footsteps.

No, not even footsteps…

‘It’s a stampede!’

My heart skipped a beat. Everyone tensed, shifting into a stance to run. The cold surface of my custom equipment met my fingers inside my pocket—though my hands were clammy. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the signal to bolt.

But to my surprise, what entered my view was something completely off the records.

An awfully large scar across his neck.
A blue civil servant jacket.
A massive blade—a jakdu—jade ornaments hanging from its hilt.
Blue pupils that danced with danger.

He barreled forward, a stream of faceless entities surging after him.

I recognised that man.

.

.

.

.

.

‘FUCK!’

Even with the jakdu drawn, he couldn’t find an opening to strike. He was running out of breath, his brows drawn taut as his jaw tightened.

The Agent could only stay on his feet, trying to escape the surge of entities—

No.

Agent Choi recognised them even though their faces had blurred into something almost featureless.

‘The villagers—’

His heart and stomach churned violently. His mind raced.

Not only had the villagers been turned into entities, the village itself had… transformed, into an unfamiliar structure. There had been no mention of similar incidents from other agents, nor any indication of an approaching Disaster.

…Though the last time he visited, he had sensed a looming evil energy from somewhere.

The threadbare blue notebook in his pocket felt heavier than ever—every page filled with observations the higher-ups had dismissed.

His breath stuttered, caught in his chest.

Lost in that gnawing spiral of thought, Choi almost missed a group of four figures—

—black suits. Animal masks.

His eyes widened.

‘Daydream—’

Before he could finish his thought, he was hauled in.

.

.

.

.

.

‘What is he doing here—’

A named character from the <Darkness Exploration Record>. The very embodiment of the old Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau, mentioned in countless exploration records. A fan favorite.

My mind immediately recalled the dreadful transcription of his final record.

Regardless, what was more important—

‘There’s no record of him in this Darkness!’

Unlike [In the Dark Shadow], this Darkness was supposed to be registered solely under Daydream Inc.’s records. The Disaster Management Bureau shouldn’t have jurisdiction over this kind of Disaster.

But wouldn’t it be possible that what was recorded by the DMB was simply a different perspective of the same ghost story…

…not important right now!

Seeing how worn-out he seemed to be, anxiety filled me up.

[This isn’t where his story ends.]

“Chief—!” I called out in a harsh whisper. “Get him!”

Section Chief's red eyes narrowed.

“Roe!?”
“What are you—”

Despite my two other sunbaes’ protests, the Section Chief fulfilled my request—yanking Agent Choi up and hauling him over his shoulder. The Agent was too stunned to react; his eyes fiercely snapped at me.

I bit back a curse. I whirled, pivoted sharply and began to sprint.

“Follow me!”

My heart was thumping uncontrollably. Advancing in spite of the heaviness in my legs, I shot forward, eyes crazily taking in every detail of the maze. It was uncertain, but I could only cross my fingers and hope that everything would work.

With the entities shifting their trajectory toward us, everyone had no choice but to follow.

‘It should exist.’

A shallow recessed area in the floor, a partial cave-in forming a rough cavity, or even a room with thick stone pillars.

A certain kind of temporary ‘safe space’.

In these kinds of survival-horror games, just running away from entities would grow stale fast.. Suspense needed to be introduced. If the player was constantly chased with no pause, it would become exhausting instead of frightening. 

It only made sense for safe or semi-safe zones to exist, letting tension breathe before ramping back up.

My eyes were flicking back and forth between my notebook and the passages, and there I found it—from the corner of my peripheral view, a wider area with halfway collapsed structures emerged.

I twisted my heels and sharply turned into the structure, entering it. Everyone followed, entering one by one—

“Close the entrance!” I barely screamed out.

The Section Chief pushed a fallen pillar effortlessly, completely blocking off the small opening.

Relief washed over me. My legs were trembling as I coughed, trying to get air into my lungs. Sweat completely drenched my back.

“...Alright, Roe.”

Between breaths, the Assistant Manager called out to me.

“Explain.”

Just as she demanded an explanation, an incredulous chuckle rang out.

“Haha—yeah, Mr. Civilian. Care to elaborate?”

The Agent grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes—danger alight in those black irises. I gulped thickly.

He patted the Section Chief's back.

“Eyy~ Though, can you let me down?”

“Yes.”

“...?”

The Section Chief didn't budge.

Supervisor Badger, still breathless, quickly intervened. “Ah, Section Chief, please let him down.”

Only then did he return Agent Choi to the ground.

For a moment, a befuddled expression crossed the Agent's face. Though he quickly recovered, a smile plastered itself across his features once more. He gazed down at me.

“Aigoo… To see employees of that exploitative company here—I wonder.”

He stepped forward, his tone growing colder.

“If this Disaster is your doing, I wouldn’t be surpri—”

“Whoa-whoa, calm your ass down, Mr. Civil Servant.”

Assistant Manager Falcon cut him short. She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.

A faint, nervous laugh slipped past Supervisor Badger’s lips. “I'm sorry agent, we don't know much about this Darkness either. We're sort of a reconnaissance team right now.”

Cocking her head, the Assistant Manager added, “Like he said. We’re just here to finish mapping and get out.”

Agent Choi's eyes narrowed in suspicion—though he just shrugged in the end.

“Alright, I’ll take your word…” he said lightly, eyes closed. One eye cracked open the next second. “...for now.”

He leaned his weight onto one leg, supported by his jakdu.

I was about to exhale as the tension eased, but then their attention shifted back to me.

‘Ack.’

I took a steadying breath.

The Assistant Manager shook her head, her tone a mix of admiration and frustration.

“See, Roe, sometimes you're just too kind for your own good—”

“No, Assistant Manager.”

I needed to convince them.

Agent Choi… His death was imminent, but not in this Darkness.

Even if his fate could change, I wouldn't want his life to end faster than it should.

Furthermore, the fact that he was here—and that the voice log transcript existed—meant Agent Choi had survived this Darkness and solved it.

‘I'm sure he's a key figure in solving this Darkness.’

“From the previous exploration records, it was mentioned that there were entities throughout the maze…”

The Agent tapped the hilt of his jakdu. My throat felt dry. Still, I continued.

“...yet, when we entered we saw no entities at all.”

I risked a glance at the impatient agent.

“All the entities were focused on the Agent.”

Agent Choi’s gaze darkened. The Assistant Manager hummed as she leaned against the wall, while the Supervisor’s fingers knitted tightly as he sat on the floor.

“...So, are you saying we should use Mr. Civil Servant here as bait?”

“...Haha.”

The agent only laughed dryly, though in his eyes… Something was glinting dangerously.

Poised expectation.

‘No!!!’

“No, Assistant Manager.”

I bit my lower lip. Inhaling deeply, I carried on.

“Either the Agent did something that painted him as a target, or he has something they want.”

Carefully, I spoke to Agent Choi.

“Agent, was there anything specific you did upon entering, or did you have something in your person…?”

Agent Choi hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. Something flickered in his eyes—despite the upturned corners of his lips, his gaze betrayed him.

“If it's something like entering the village in a specific procedure to mimic a ritual, I suppose not. I was immediately transported to this maze as I passed the jangseungs. Though, for something I have with me…”

‘...?’

Village, he said…?

The civil servant brought out a notebook that looked weathered by time. Not just me—the rest of my team was paying attention to the notebook.

“This contains my personal notes on every do and don’t in this village, every nook and cranny, every tip and trick I discovered.”

As Agent Choi carried on, something heavy settled deep inside my stomach. I was sure my sunbaes had sensed it as well.

“The Bureau had classified this village as an Idle-type Disaster, which became a Disaster only twice a year."

A laugh-like breath escaped his throat.

“Supposedly, during the summer and winter solstices, a barrier emerged and engulfed the village—one can only enter through the twin jangseungs. And supposedly—”

“Inside, it'd still be an average village with villagers instead of a maze like this.”

The Assistant Manager finished his sentence. Agent Choi blinked, then smiled wryly.

“You're right, Civilian.”

That meant…

“...The entire village had been swallowed by the Darkness…” Supervisor Badger muttered.

Assistant Manager Falcon added, “And possibly, it was a gradual process, yet went unnoticed.”

The Agent's silence could only serve as confirmation.

It really didn’t bode well. An entire village devoured whole by a Darkness.

‘Those entities…’

…They were wearing average civilian clothing, weren’t they…?

Section Chief Lizard raised a hand after being silent for so long.
“Regarding the entry method,” he spoke in a steady manner, “was it not different from how our team entered?”

“...Civilian, do you have something to tell?”

“Yes.”

“...Can you please elaborate on what you wanted to say, Section Chief?” I clarified.

Agent Choi’s eyebrow shot up briefly, then smoothed out as if he’d come to an understanding.

“Yes. Before the D-Squad entered, we were required to destroy evidence of our ‘identity,’ which we executed using a wooden plaque as the medium.”

My mind suddenly recalled the vivid image of wooden plaques sent ablaze, glowing amber-red while darkening to black.

“None of us carry any identification at present. Daydream Inc. masks are designed to obscure one’s identity within Darknesses, providing additional protection against recognition.”

A myriad of emotions flickered through Agent Choi’s eyes in a heartbeat. His hand rose to cover his mouth as he looked away, gaze sharpening into something unreadable.

A faint murmur.

“I see. Is that how it is?”

When he returned his gaze to us, his expression had already smoothed back to a controlled smile, his hand leaving his mouth. He returned the notebook to his pocket with deliberate care.

“Ay, that answered a thing or two, but it still hasn’t quite explained why they’re after me.”

The agent gently patted his pocket.
“Is this really the cause of it?”

I couldn’t say for sure. However…

“...That seems to be the most plausible explanation.”

Recalling the three exploration records, what did they have in common?

A maze.
Faceless entities spread throughout it.
Upon contact, memories—particularly negative ones—vanished, leaving the victim in a blissful, catatonic state.

Absently, my hand lifted to my chin as I pondered.

‘Could it be because the book has ‘bad memories’ inside…’

Then—scratching.

My head snapped toward the sealed entrance, my breath catching in my throat. Something was hitting, scraping, chipping away at the solid material. Tension clawed up my spine, dread coiling tighter with every passing second.

“...We can't stay here for too long.”

I sided with the Assistant Manager. The room fell into silent compliance as we straightened. But even so…

“How… do we pass through those entities…?”

Supervisor Badger intoned, a faint strain in his voice.

Agent Choi had already grabbed his jakdu, readying himself for a possible fight. Even so, his gaze had sharpened, contemplative—as if he were piecing something together.

.

.

.

.

.

‘...Either I run as bait with the book or sacrifice it altogether.’

Choi easily lifted his large shamanist blade. The jade ornaments clinked together—a harmonious sound that cleared his mind.

‘That is, if what that young employee concluded is correct.’

One hand slipped into his pocket. The rough cover of the old book rolled beneath his touch.

...

He took an assured stance. A dauntless, striking grin plastered itself across his face as always. His voice rang out—measured, just as it always was.

“Civilians.”

Speaking up, the agent stepped forward.

“Won’t you let me through? At the end of the day, we both have different missions here.”

If the [end] they spoke of was seeking him…

‘I should just accept it, right?’

“Wait, Agent. Before that.”

The one with the deer-like mask raised his voice. Agent Choi canted his head toward him.

“...Can we try something?”

A confident young man with a brilliant head on his shoulders. Truly, wasn’t it such a waste for him to remain in that lousy company?

The falcon mask sighed, then gave a small nod.
“Fine. Roe, you’re really keen on keeping this guy alive, huh?”

“Our Roe is too kind,” the badger mask chimed in.

The deer mask inclined his head politely. The faintest trace of nervousness hid beneath his composed demeanor.

“Agent, would you be willing to throw the book away? It’d be safer for all of us, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha.”

‘Ah, he’d do well as an agent.’

Agent Choi dipped his head, his chin brushing his chest as his body bent slightly. A faint breath—almost laugh-like—escaped him. He lingered only a moment; there was no need for more.

When he lifted his head, his gaze found the deer mask. The certainty was still there, though something gentler had settled across his expression.

“This is old and outdated anyway.”

The commotion on the other side was growing restless. His eyes flicked toward it once before he quietly closed the distance between them, offering the worn book.

“Do what you want.”

.

.

.

.

.

I got the book.

Truth be told, I was still unsettled about what to do with it. The increasingly restless noise outside only worsened my nerves, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on that feeling.

“Even if we toss the book at the entities, they’d still gather in front of us…”

‘We still need another way.’

As I nervously chewed the inside of my cheek, Section Chief Lizard tapped my shoulder.

“May I offer a suggestion?”

Glancing at his reptilian eyes, I nodded stiffly.
“Yes.”

“We could create a small opening above the band of entities and fling the book through it.”

I blinked.

“And while the entities are distracted, we could escape through another opening.”

“Another opening…?”

“Through the other wall,” the lizard said nonchalantly.

Almost immediately, I overheard the Assistant Manager mutter under her breath, “Yep. That’s his style.”

I had nearly forgotten the Section Chief’s monstrous strength.

And we proceeded.

The Section Chief made the solid stone wall look like thin styrofoam as he punched through it. The clamor outside halted for a second. In that moment, he hurled the book through the rift—

‘Huh?’

None of the entities paid it any attention.

The book slid across the floor, yet the Darkness’ residents didn't move toward it. Instead, the pressure around Agent Choi deepened. The faceless figures’ line of sight all fixed on him.

No—there was…

[█████-███ is looking at him.]
[██ want his ████.]

“...Hah.”

Assistant Manager Falcon clicked her tongue.

“So it’s about the civil servant after all.”

My hands went clammy. My hands clenched tighter without me noticing. I felt as if something was twisting and pooling deep inside my gut.

Why Agent Choi…?

And then something clicked in my mind.

Something I hadn’t considered before, because it was knowledge only I—someone aware of <Dark Exploration Record>—would know.

‘Agent Choi is a named character.’

His presence was different from Section Chief Lee Jaheon, who had only been alluded to as ‘Employee D’. Agent Choi was the very epitome of the old Bureau’s testament—a character whose name had been etched into countless pages.

This changed everything—or maybe not.

The fact that they only reacted to a named character reminded me of the newest faction in DER—mostly written by middle school kids aiming for shock value through meta-narrative.

The Nameless Cult.

‘What now?’

Standing still wouldn’t do. Now that the barricade had weakened, time was ticking even faster.

‘What could they want from Agent Choi?’

His name…

Ah.

I looked up.

“Agent, we need to strip you of your identity.”

.

.

.

.

.

‘…This wasn’t how it was supposed to go…!!’

Bundled in the badger mask’s muffler-like item and carried by the lizard mask, Agent Choi could only grit his teeth.

When the deer mask mentioned ‘stripping him of his identity,’ Choi had assumed he would need to destroy or leave behind anything that tied him to the Bureau, but—

‘Not like this!’

His Bureau jacket was slung over the badger’s shoulder, the rest of his clothes carried by the Falcon. For some reason, the deer mask was holding onto the jakdu while covering his already mask-covered face with one hand.

Perhaps he hadn’t expected it to turn out like this either. Who knew?

Beneath the muffler wrapped around him, Agent Choi had been relieved of every earthly possession.

Apparently, they had taken the phrase very literally.

For a moment, the agent was reminded of the oddly ominous warning he had received earlier… What had that been about, truly? Incredulity and mortification clouded his mind. At the Badger’s mention of “custom equipment” capable of disguising someone as non-human for a short time, Choi had assumed he intended to escape in disguise. The entities would disperse for a while. They’d have a better chance moving forward.

But that wasn’t enough.

Before he knew it, everything he had on him had been taken away as they moved on—

And yet…

And yet—!

A dull ache crept into his jaw as he clenched his teeth too tightly.

It had only worked for a moment; the entities had already begun hunting them again. Still, that brief distraction had bought them some distance.

“Tsk!”

Badger waved a hand—almost dismissively. “Sometimes the only way to survive is to discard your dignity.”

Falcon didn’t even bother holding back a laugh.

Weren't they enjoying this a bit too much?

The Agent really wanted to scoff, but he could only bite his tongue. Apprehension refused to leave—it coiled, deeply. Profoundly into his chest. The muffled footsteps of the others couldn't hide the sound behind them. The slow scraping drag of something that had no feet to walk with.

Choi didn't need to look back to know they were still there. Even stripped of everything, the attention hadn't left him—

Somewhere in that shifting mass behind them, something still knew his name.

—and the darkness swallowed the corridor whole.

.

.

.

.

.

“…Ah.”

A salty breeze tickled his nose. Cold air hit his face.

Agent Choi blinked hard as the world lurched back into focus.

The man carrying him didn’t even break a sweat, despite the rest of his team gasping for air, nearly collapsing.

“We’re out,” he said curtly.

Section Chief Lee Jaheon set the still muffler-addled agent back onto his feet. His toes sank into ground made of small, rough particles.

Sand.

As his eyes swept over his surroundings, the grey-tinted sky burned into his sight. A large body of water—ebbing and flowing with a gentle crashing sound—caught his attention.

A mutter slipped out.

“…A shore.”

Unease tinged Agent Choi. He recalled that the village was not too far from the sea, yet not this close. Still, that hardly mattered.

He glanced back. Just a forest.

The blue gleam of his pupils wavered.

“Um, well, Agent.”

Supervisor Park Minseong’s voice drew his attention back. Sheepishly, he handed the agent’s clothes over.

“Sorry about earlier… But it couldn’t be helped, could it?”

Agent Choi’s eyes widened, his lips parting slightly—tense—and then he laughed.

His whole body shook as he bent forward. A hand ran through his hair as he exhaled in baffled disbelief.

Unease tinged Agent Choi. The forest still lingered at the edge of his vision—they were oddly close. Did that matter?

Unease tinged Agent Choi.

He received his clothes. The Daydream employees were considerate enough to let him dress in peace.

Kim Soleum returned his jakdu. Assistant Manager Eun Haje patted his shoulder, signaling that they needed to leave.

Unease tinged Agent Choi.

The forest still lingers at the edge of his sight.

Did that matter?

‘Have I gone insane? Is this contamination?’

Unease tinges Agent Choi.

The others are already walking.

The shore is quiet.

Unease tinges Agent Choi—

Ah.
Enough.

Lowk being Presumptuous, have my OC ref sheet as a bonus