Moth to a Flame IV

—There isn't anything else we can do. The project has to be abandoned; we've been playing with forces beyond our comprehension for far too long and look what we've done. We've only made it worse. We couldn't do anything.

—Myeong… I'm sorry for your husband… but he's gone. 

The voice on the other end of the line sounded exhausted and empty. Years ago, they could hear and imagine the cork pop off the champagne as they celebrated a breakthrough in their research. 

Now it felt like they had failed in the worst possible way.

Myeong choked back a sob. 

—I don't know what's worse… that he's died as a hero, or that even then, nothing changed. 

—God… we've been lured into a trap. 

—Listen carefully. We have to hide. I don't care where, but that thing's eyes are on us. 

—We have made a grave mistake… 

So many years of research, trying, struggling, studying, hoping to find a way to stop what was coming, only for it to come nonetheless. 

Where had all those years gone? 

—We… we shouldn't have made our presence known. We shouldn't have listened to them. 

The man laughed, mirthlessly.

—And now those things know where we are…

—We still have a bit of time… yes, a bit. Myeong, listen! You have to hide somewhere… take your son, your family, and go somewhere its eyes won't reach you.

—Do not let your husband's sacrifice go in vain…

—Maybe, one day… we'll be free again…

—Stay safe. 

Myeong collapsed on the floor, trembling. Her mouth moved on its own accord, words leaving before she could fully process the weight of them. 

"I understand. Thank you."

She cut the line.

She slowly let her phone slip off her fingers, her eyes dark like tar, full of weariness and despair.

A lonely night breeze ruffled through her hair. She closed her eyes, not out of enjoyment, but because there was nothing for her to enjoy in this world any longer.

To this very moment, Myeong was still coming to terms that her husband... the love of her life... would no longer come back home, never to be held in her arms. Ah, but if it was only that, she wouldn't have felt this guilty. 

Tears slid silently down her cheeks, and yet her eyes remained vacant and hollow, her mouth quivering in the attempt to utter any more sounds, even if her thoughts were spinning faster than an overloaded machine.

That thing—

That monster. 

How could something so vile and wicked exist? 

But Myeong held herself responsible—because they had fucking caught the eyes of a nightmare.

And now, they could only cower behind the light of the stars like the worms they were, doomed to an existence of fearing what they had discovered. The universe was a jungle, and just because it was quiet, it didn't mean there wasn't danger lingering in the darkness, the unknown.

That's right. Her husband died for this.

He was killed... murdered by an unfathomable creature, so vastly different, it could only exist within the dreams of man. Because they wanted to have their curiosity satisfied. They thought seeking help outside of their realm was a smart idea. 

She felt so empty, so guilty. What she wanted was to mourn; to look at the sky one more time, and imagine her husband standing by her side, always holding her hand.

It was then that her phone vibrated with a message.

Her empty eyes lit up with some life when she saw the name of the sender.

Leandro—her son.

Ah, where did the time go? It seemed like only yesterday Leandro had been born. And then, before either of them knew it, he grew up into a splendid young man. 

Except that neither of them were there to see it happen. How much had she sacrificed?

Her son's childhood.

Her husband.

All for a far-fetched noble cause. 

Had everything gone accordingly, Leandro wouldn't have to suffer; they could have all enjoyed a life in tranquility...

Those future hopes crumbled to dust.

And so Myeong found herself gripping her phone tightly, the stinging burn of the tears dripping on the screen. Her eyes were only trained on the single sentence on her screen, looking almost unreal.

She couldn't stay there any longer.

Humanity was in serious danger.

It would only get worse from there on.

And it was at that moment Myeong made a silent, fateful promise to herself. Diego died for something much, much more significant and important, so it was her duty as his partner to carry out the will of their research and continue on living. 

Her world might have shattered with her husband's passing, but she'd live on.

For her son, at least.

In an attempt to preserve his happiness... the least she could do as his mother would be that. 

However, it was right in that moment that another message popped up right after, and this one was from one of her oldest friends. Seo Yuna. 

'Huh…? She's going back to Korea?'

…

The private jet's stairs folded back as one of the crew members latched the door shut. Two women sat facing each other. There was a bit of an awkward and tense silence, until a voice spoke through the intercom. 

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard. This is your captain speaking. We are now ready to depart from Los Angeles to Seoul Incheon International Airport.

Our flight time today is approximately 10 hours and 30 minutes. We'll be cruising at 41,000 feet, traveling northwest over the Pacific and then southwest towards Korea.

Please keep your seatbelts fastened for your safety, especially if we encounter any turbulence. If you need anything, our crew is here to assist.

Thank you for choosing to fly with us. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight."

"It's been a while, Myeong. I didn't think you'd want to tag along. You look… roughed up." Seo Yuna said, quietly, with no real bite. It was a simple observation. She tilted her head. "What happened?"

Myeong winced a little—it wasn't a lie, really, but she was in no condition to mind her appearance. So she gave no reaction. There were more pressing matters at hand.

The woman sitting right opposite of Myeong reached out to pat her hand as a small comfort. Myeong shot a weak smile. "Everything's a mess."

Yuna gave a sympathetic, albeit indifferent, nod. Myeong looked frazzled, her eyes red and puffy, a far cry from the smart, pretty woman she remembered her to be. Then again, it had been a few years; Yuna was keenly aware of Myeong's ongoing projects and research, though not what they entailed exactly. 

Myeong tapped a finger on the table, impatiently, watching as Yuna's butler slipped a drink in front of her before making himself scarce. She inhaled deeply, downing all of it in one gulp. Alcohol. Great, exactly what she needed to take the edge off. 

Because she didn't know if she could bring herself to talk without breaking down again. She promised herself she'd be strong. 

"Diego's dead."

She said, breathily—no sugarcoating it. 

Yuna's eyes widened. It was rare to see the businesswoman be so expressive, which clearly denoted how much the news had taken her by surprise. "How…"

"We fucked up, Yuna. Big time. Big, big fucking time." Myeong's hands trembled. She heaved a deep, shuddering breath before speaking. "If you thought a Tower was all there was to the apocalypse, then you're wrong. Oh, so wrong…"

Outside, the jet's engines roared powerfully, and Myeong couldn't have been happier, to get away, leave everything behind—not that there was anything left.

She had burned everything. 

Those things knew about her. About them. 

The jet sped across the runaway. Myeong reclined in her plush seat as the aircraft's nose pointed straight into the air, the engines propelling it off the ground.

"Myeong, calm down." Yuna frowned, both at the implications and at her poor choice of words. "Take a deep breath, and explain everything."

Myeong sat up straight in her seat, and said nothing for a couple seconds—simply lost in her thoughts. She wondered how to best explain what had transpired in their research to Yuna… not that they hadn't done stupid, terrible things. The only terrible thing they had done was being naive.

"It's… it's best if I explain everything when we get back to Korea. My son deserves to know… we have to prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

Myeong closed her eyes. "For an invasion."

"What?"

Yuna seemed speechless. Her face said it all. She swallowed a hard gulp before taking a deep breath, a small sip of her coffee, and adjusting her seat, trying to distract herself with the clouds. She was in deep thought, her brows furrowed. 

Myeong sighed, burying her head on her palms. Her whole life was crumbling down to ashes. All she wanted was to shield her son, Leandro from the rest of this… nightmare she herself had initiated, been partially responsible for.

If it was to prevent him from getting hurt, Myeong was ready to sacrifice anything in order to protect her family. Even if humanity had to pay the price for it.

As long as her son was safe… she could learn to live with it.

"You're not joking, are you?"

Myeong laughed, it was weak and forced. "I wish I was, Yuna. I wish this was all a nightmare…"

Because not even a nightmare was worse than what reality held in store. No, it was far, far worse than what they had initially bargained with.

Yuna ran her hands through her hair, finding a measure of composure in the action. 

A bout of silence ensued. 

Myeong silently admired her friend's ability to steadfastly adapt to any situation. Hell, she just told her that humanity as they knew it was in danger of extermination, or at least close to it, yet Yuna remained silent in her thoughts, quietly sipping her coffee.

Perhaps it was a facade—yes, it must have been one.

She was a businesswoman, wasn't she?

Yuna placed her coffee mug down, elegantly, because that's how she did things. "It's not your fault, Myeong. You couldn't have known."

Myeong leaned her head back to stare up at the cabin ceiling and didn't say a thing. Yuna didn't even know half of it and the reality was beyond her comprehension.

"You sacrificed so much of your life, Myeong. If you're looking for blame, you won't find any from me."

Myeong gave a bitter grin. "You know nothing about it, Yuna... what we did was foolish of us. Diego knew that, we all did, yet... we still went through it."

"Why?" Yuna tilted her head. 

"To prevent all of this... to find a way to stop all of this from ever happening." Myeong whispered, under her breath, she sounded tired—so tired of running. Tired of having failed Diego, because they couldn't have gone through such research and gotten a positive outlook for their efforts. No, it was just naive thinking on their part.

But they were desperate.

All of them were.

"You have my condolences, Myeong. Diego was a good man."

Myeong cracked the briefest of smiles. "Thank you..."

"..."

Then her mouth moved again on its own accord, questions bubbling up. "You said you're going back because of your family? Anything specific about that...?" Myeong didn't mean to sound so intrusive, but the last thing she wanted right now was to talk of her late husband and the bleak prospects of the human race as a whole.

Yuna pursed her lips, and looked at her for a few moments. Her dark eyes seemed to glow for a moment. "There are some complications. That's why I'm going back. In fact, it has to do with your son."

Myeong blinked, uncertain all of a sudden. "Why…? What happened? What did he do?"

Yuna merely raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"Well…" Myeong had the decency to look guilty—though for all her guilt and pain, she couldn't change that she had neglected Leandro ever since he was 7. No amount of money could replace the weight and importance of a parent's love. "I haven't really been in contact with him. You know my work… I… I didn't have time…"

She did send him a message from time to time, but anything beyond that was rare. 

Yuna sighed. It wasn't like she could say much, given her own family's history.

"Leandro's just being a bit difficult, Myeong. Nothing to be overly concerned about, certainly not after what you told me." Yuna took another sip of her coffee. 

Myeong's eyes softened. "Hm-hm. It doesn't matter. It's him. I'd like to hear everything you know. What he's been on and about. Who he's dating—all that stuff. He'd never tell me if I asked him." She chuckled there. A genuine laugh. "You know how boys are. Your daughters must know something though."

"That's the issue…" Yuna stared at her long-time friend, not sure how to feel about it, or how to even proceed from there on. But she wasn't the type to let something like that deter her. "It appears that, during our absence, he and my daughter have gotten close." She smiled, amused. "Hear this one out: he called me, demanding that I call off an arranged date I set up for Hari."

Myeong blinked, slowly, not quite sure how to digest such an information.

A part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Another wanted to cry, because it was so unlike Leandro to act like that. Then again, she wondered, what was Leandro really like? How did he usually behave around others? The snippets of conversation she'd had with him never quite painted a full picture of his personality.

She smiled. Perhaps the best thing she could do now, was support him.

She had a lot to make up for, and Leandro deserved the best.

And if that's what he really wanted, who was she to get in the way?