I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

The Diver III

“...Frog croaks.”

Ha-yul trembled. She instinctively opened and closed her fingers repeatedly, the sensation of frog skin still clinging to her hands.

“Did we really turn into frogs?”

Despite her youthful appearance, Ha-yul was a seasoned veteran who had explored countless voids with me, but even for her, a six-second bodily transformation was enough to leave a deep scar in her psyche.

I squeezed Ha-yul’s hand, and she gasped out, feeling the warmth of another’s palm sink into her own. Instead of swimming freely underwater, we had evolved to hold each other’s hands.

“Your body is cold. Use your aura to dry off,” I suggested. “It may look like ordinary water, but each drop is filled with void poison.”

“...Okay, oppa.”

Ha-yul’s hair glowed golden with aura. Her soaked, brown locks quickly began to dry, but there was something strange about the process. It wasn’t just that the water evaporated; it was more like transparent bugs were being burned off.

Squirm, squirm, squirm.

The bugs, wriggling in the shape of the rain character, 雨, were roasted by the golden aura. They tried to crawl through Ha-yul’s hair to escape, only to dry up and evaporate.

“Ugh...” Ha-yul shuddered. Though she rarely showed emotions, disgust shone clear in her eyes. “The water is like bugs. This water is crawling inside me too?”

“Don’t scratch your arm. If you scratch hard, you’ll bleed, and then the blood will look like bugs. If your blood starts forming the character 雨, it’s over.”

“You speak like you’ve seen this many times.”

I had, of course. Both Ha-yul and I had witnessed the horrifying transformation into frogs or people bleeding to death due to hydrophobia at least five times.

The first time, we realized that if we didn’t guide the great monsoon to Busan, Japan or the Korean Peninsula would sink.

The second time, we learned that without facilities and rituals like Noah’s Ark, stopping at simply guiding the monsoon’s path would result in everyone drowning.

The third time, we discovered that unless we bailed water, even with an ark, we would still be submerged.

“When we were submerged and turning into frogs, I felt strange,” Ha-yul muttered. Though her hair was dry, her eyes still seemed to reflect the shadows of water. “I felt nostalgic. Happy. I couldn’t breathe, but it felt like I was breathing through my skin, becoming one with the world.”

“Don’t think about it. It’s entrancing.”

I tightened my grip on her hand. Ha-yul snapped back to reality, meeting my gaze.

“Let’s go. We need to help the others,” I said.

“Okay.”

“Look, the puppet strings are broken over there. Let’s repair them as we go.”

Nodding, Ha-yul ticked her jaw.

The water in the corridor reached our calves, hindering our movement. As we splashed through, water bugs scattered in all directions.

Ha-yul shook her head and began fixing the puppet strings. Golden aura spread through the threads, extending throughout the entire ark.

“How is it, Ha-yul? Are you receiving signals through the strings?”

“...No issues in isolation areas 15, 21, and 37.”

Beep. Beep-beep. Beep, beep.

Beep-beep-beep, beep-beep-beep.

Not long after Ha-yul sent out her aura, signals began pinging back from different directions. The sound of Morse code transmitted through the threads was like the heartbeat of the ark.

Ha-yul looked up, reading that pulse. “...No response from isolation areas 13, 17, and 23. Oh, 25 just sent an OK signal.”

“What about the others?”

“No response.”

Despite thorough preparations, there were always casualties. I couldn’t be everywhere at once.

We immediately moved to the affected areas. As soon as we opened the steel door of isolation area 13, a zombie-like figure lunged at us.

“Ugh—!”

Startled, Ha-yul instinctively scattered her puppet strings. The limbs of the attacker were instantly wrapped in webs and fell with a splash.

“Rgh— Raaagh.”

The attacker’s body was half-melted, green skin growing where blood should have sprouted. As the skin grew, it quivered and croaked like a frog.

“Grgh, croak.”

The person had already lost all sense or reason. From their eyes, now made entirely of water, flowed unbroken, weeping streams.

“Oppa.”

Ha-yul pointed inside the isolation area, pulling my attention away from where it was ensnared by the eerie sight.

“There,” she declared.

The room was filled with water, even though I had just opened the door. It was as if an invisible glass wall held the water in place, and floating within were only blue, yellow, and black shirts and pants. The people it had once held had vanished, swallowed by the void, and all that was left were the clothes, swimming through their makeshift aquarium like tropical fish. The only sound was the croaking of frogs, resonating through the water.

With some reluctance, I admitted, “It’s probably impossible to prevent the flooding of area 13.”

Area 4 and 13 were notorious trouble spots.[1] The command center where Noh Do-hwa and other leaders were stationed was in area 4, the most dangerous zone. In a similar vein, though we’d placed veterans in area 13, it too couldn’t be saved. Even if we left the room empty, the 13th room would be randomly selected, leading to another disaster.

‘No matter what we do, either area 4 or 13 will be breached. We need to reduce the number of isolation areas to 12 or less in the next cycle.

I swallowed my frustration. “Let’s move to the next area.”

“Okay... What about this person?”

“It’s too late. With this level of transformation, not even Ah-ryeon’s healing can save them. They’re no longer human.”

“Should I kill them?”

“Yes,” I said. “Step aside.”

“No.”

Ha-yul shook her head and raised her hand, spreading her fingers wide. “I’ll do it.” Then, she clenched her fingers tightly.

Fwik!

The victim, wrapped in puppet strings, was torn into hundreds of pieces, reminiscent of the opening scene of the movie Cube. Unlike Cube, however, the pieces didn’t fall but turned into clear liquid, hopping like frogs.

Splash. Croak. Splash. Croak.

The frog croaks quickly faded, and the water level in the corridor dropped from our calves to our Achilles’ tendons.

Ha-yul silently squeezed her arms close.

Fortunately, the other isolation areas hadn’t suffered as badly as area 13, and rescue operations proceeded smoothly. In area 25, there were 17 missing or drowned, 21 severely mutated, and 2 injured in the ensuing scuffles. Thanks to the quick action of those around them, the severely mutated individuals were returned to human form. The constant reinforcement of “strategies” and “precautions” through SG Net and the physical world paid off.

“......”

However, one of the severely mutated individuals was late in returning to human form. He was a paladin who had come to support the ark from the Eastern Holy State alongside Sim Ah-ryeon. Not just his fingers, but also his toes, thighs, and neck had transformed into a frog, and he remained stuck in that state for six minutes.

Humans are weak. Six minutes is a long time. The brain suffers permanent damage without proper circulation and breathing within five minutes. Void poison affects not just the physical body but also the mind, consciousness, and memories.

“Parasites.”

The paladin mumbled.

“People often say humans are like parasites to nature. But doesn’t nature also parasitize humans? Blood is like a parasite living within us. Everything is made of matter, and matter exists only to sustain other matter. What is freedom? If a parasite leaves its host, it dies, but the will to leave still exists, if only for a moment. Therefore, escaping the body is both death and freedom. The leap from matter is a miracle that happens only once. Whether it is achieved by one’s own decision or compulsion by others—”

“Shut up!” a survivor snapped. “Someone shut that bastard up!”

They weren’t the only one. People wrapped in blankets watched the paladin’s possessed ramblings with anxious eyes.

The strange thing was, the paladin wasn’t speaking loudly. His confession was quiet, no louder than an old man coughing in a corner. Yet, every survivor in area 25 listened intently to his monologue. Even the most insensitive person could feel the intense focus.

Just as sight has direction, so does hearing.

“Oh, God. No, the One beyond God,” The paladin continued. “The One who must be escorted out and exist free from me. The body is a prison, and the mind is the escape. I now understand why escaping the body is called freedom. All matter is like parasites on other matter. Oh, One, I too will join you...”

“Kill him!”

Whack.

A survivor threw a can at him. Objectively, it was an attack against a patient who was merely mumbling to himself. But no one stopped the violence.

“That bastard is a monster! Kill him!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Kill him before we all get infected!”

Tuna cans, water bottles, and anything they could grab were thrown at the paladin.

Croak. Croak. Croak. Croak.

The sound of frogs blended with the survivors’ shouts. Yet no one seemed to hear the frogs, each consumed by their own voice.

“Enough.” I stepped forward, sending a tremor shooting across the deck.

The survivors froze.

“All of you are addicted to the void.”

“......”

“I understand. The voices of your constellations that used to comfort you have been cut off. The SG Net you clung to is down. Still, you must get used to this solitude for now.”

“......”

“There may be different levels of contamination in each section, so the command center will maintain isolation. Use the puppet strings for communication and messages. The command center staff will patrol and check your status at least twice a day.”

I glanced at the paladin. He was still mumbling. “I will take this contaminated person to the infirmary. Remember, he came from Pyongyang to support Busan.”

“......”

I didn’t reprimand them further. It wasn’t their fault.

Carrying the paladin with me, I left the isolation area, and Ha-yul followed a step behind.

Splash, splash.

As we walked through the corridor, I glanced out the window.

雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨雨.

It looked like we were underwater. The ark was still completely submerged.

According to Genesis, the great flood lasted 40 days.

And this was only day one.