ECHOES OF TRUTH: A LINE BETWEEN THE HELPER AND THE CREATOR

The room was heavy with frustration and exhaustion as In-Ha slammed her fists against the table she had been working on, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet space. “I have no idea what we can do,” she admitted, her voice filled with despair. Yon let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair as his gaze drifted to the ceiling, seeking solace in the cracks above them.

Breaking the tension, Hailey stood and stretched, her arms reaching high above her head. “It seems like finding a cure isn’t a one-day thing,” she said, her tone calm but laced with resignation. “It’s already midnight. Let’s rest for now.”

“She’s not wrong,” Boram agreed, rising from her seat as well. “There are plenty of rooms here. If you’re all too scared to be separated, we can just sleep together in this room.”

Minji chimed in, her voice gentle but practical. “There are washrooms here and spare patient gowns. We should remove these suits, change into something clean, and just rest.”

Yohan nodded, voicing his agreement. Slowly, the group began to rise, their movements sluggish from fatigue. However, Karthik and the other foreigners sat in confusion, their faces blank as the conversation flowed in Korean, a language foreign to them.

“They’re saying we should rest now,” Yunha explained in English to Karthik, her voice soft yet clear.

“Ah!” Karthik nodded appreciatively, smiling at her. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“And also,” Yunha added, “there are spare patient gowns here. You can change into those and sleep in this room if you prefer, or separately in one of the others.”

Karthik nodded again, his smile widening as he glanced at Meher, who had been silently watching the exchange.

“चलो इसी कमरे में रुकें, कार्तिक!” (Let’s stay in this room, Karthik!) Meher suggested, grabbing his arm.

“हाँ ठीक है।” (Yes, alright.) Karthik agreed, nodding at her.

Yunha, unfamiliar with their language, chose not to intervene, instead watching as Meher gently led Karthik to settle their belongings. Meanwhile, the rest of the group began dispersing, leaving the room in pairs and small clusters until only the captives, Clara’s group, Eugene, and Yon remained.

Yon, who had been silent for most of the exchange, removed his lab coat in one swift motion and tossed it to the floor. His frustration boiled over as he slammed his fists against the table, the sharp sound startling those who remained.

“Pourquoi est-il si énervé ?” (Why is he so upset?) Julien asked Clara, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Je ne suis pas sûr. Peut-être parce qu’il est incapable de préparer le remède rapidement.” (I’m not sure. Maybe because he can’t create the cure quickly.) Clara guessed, her tone thoughtful.

“Ah. Ce n’est pas sa faute cependant,” (Ah. It’s not his fault though,) Florian offered, his voice calm.

“C’est vrai. Mais il semble que cela le ronge.” (That’s true. But it seems to be eating at him,) Clara replied. Her expression softened as she stepped toward Yon, her shoes barely making a sound on the cold floor.

“Hey,” Clara placed a hand gently on Yon's shoulder, her touch grounding him for a moment. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Yon let out a deep sigh, glancing at her from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the table. “No,” he admitted, his voice low but firm. “Because it should be easy for me to create a cure. If I can create the virus, then why not the cure?”

Clara froze, her heart skipping a beat at his words. “…What?” she asked in English, her voice rising slightly as shock washed over her face. “What do you mean you made the virus?”

Yon turned to her fully now, his expression serious yet burdened. “Do you even trust me?” he asked, his voice steady but his gaze searching hers.

Clara’s fists tightened at her sides as she inhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. After a moment, she exhaled, her voice soft but resolute. “You saved us and helped us reach this far,” she said, meeting his gaze steadily. “I do trust you, Mister Yon.”

Yon chuckled dryly, the sound hollow in the otherwise silent room. He shook his head before his features turned somber once again, his expression revealing the weight of the truth he carried.

The room was quiet, the weight of Yon's words sinking into the air like a heavy fog. His voice was low and measured as he explained everything to Clara. He started with how he and his father had accidentally created the virus, its original purpose far from the destructive force it had become. Their experiment had been meant for good—a revolutionary idea, twisted and weaponized by others with far darker intentions. He described the steps of the experiment, the materials he had used, and how it had spiraled out of their control.

His voice faltered when he shared his family history, a burden he had carried silently, known only to Yunha and Eugene. His father’s obsession with success, the long nights spent in the lab, and the reckless decisions that led to the virus’s creation—they were all laid bare before Clara.

Yon then confessed something even more startling. He told her about the tablet he had consumed without fully understanding its implications, a prototype meant to enhance human potential. Instead, it had turned into a double-edged sword, giving him immense strength but leaving him as something that was neither fully human nor fully zombie. He explained that Hamin and Su-yeong were the same as him, altered by the tablet in similar ways, while Jaeyeon was something entirely different—an anomaly even among them.

Clara listened intently, her expression unreadable. When Yon finished, her mind raced to process everything. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. This boy standing before her hadn’t intended to create a virus that would decimate humanity, yet his and his father’s work had inadvertently become its source.

But Clara wasn’t one to be consumed by anger or blinded by outrage. She could see the guilt etched into Yon’s face, the weight of his actions crushing him. She knew he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Yet, as she glanced toward Florian and Julien, she could sense the storm brewing in them. Not everyone shared her understanding or compassion.

Suddenly, Florian lunged at Yon, pinning him to the table with a fury that had been simmering beneath the surface.

“Florian!” Clara shouted, rushing toward them. “Laisse-le partir! Que fais-tu?” (Let him go! What are you doing?)

Florian’s voice was a snarl, his words dripping with anger as he glared at Yon. “Ce garçon est la raison pour laquelle nos amis, notre famille, nos proches sont devenus des monstres, Clara !” (This boy is the reason why our friends, our family, our loved ones became monsters, Clara!)

“Non! Il n’avait pas l’intention de faire ça! Tu dois te calmer, Florian!” (No! He didn’t mean to do this! You need to calm down, Florian!) Clara cried, grabbing him from behind in an attempt to pull him off Yon.

Julien intervened, pulling Clara away. “Pourquoi lui fais-tu autant confiance ? Clara, Adrian et les autres t’ont été enlevés à cause de lui!” (Why do you trust him so much? Clara, Adrian and the others were taken from you because of him!)

Clara shoved Julien back, her frustration boiling over as she slapped Florian across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the room, freezing everyone in place.

“Ne tombez pas dans la colère, les gars!” Clara shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. “Il n’avait aucune intention de faire ça! Et puis, c’est lui qui souffre le plus de tout ça!” (Don’t give in to anger, guys! He never intended to do this! And besides, he’s the one suffering the most from all of this!)

She turned to Yon, helping him back to his feet. He didn’t understand her words, but he could see the fierce determination in her eyes as she defended him. Somehow, he knew she was standing up for him, speaking about his struggles and his intentions.

Clara turned to the others, her tone firm as she switched to English. “Learn to accept,” she said sharply, before grabbing Yon’s hand and leading him out of the room.

Eugene, who had been leaning against the wall observing the chaotic exchange, sighed deeply. Pushing himself upright, he walked toward Florian and Julien. “French, right? Then listen,” he said in English, his tone calm but authoritative.

“C’est Yon qui traverse le plus de difficultés,” Eugene began, switching to French. “Il ressent de la culpabilité, de la douleur, de la tristesse, tout cela parce qu’il a essayé d’aider les humains et que quelqu’un est venu et en a profité.” (It’s Yon who is going through the most difficulties. He feels guilt, pain, sadness—all because he tried to help humans and someone came and took advantage of it.)

“Il n’avait pas prévu que les choses se passent ainsi, mais c’est ce qui s’est passé quand même.” (He didn’t intend for things to turn out this way, but that’s what happened nonetheless.) Eugene placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice softening.

“Il fait de son mieux pour trouver des moyens de nous sauver. Parce que c’est ainsi qu’il était alors et qu’il est aujourd’hui.” (He’s doing his best to find ways to save us. Because that’s how he was then, and that’s how he is today.)

Eugene stepped back, his gaze steady. “Ayez confiance en vos nouveaux amis coréens, les gars.” (Trust your new Korean friends, guys.) With that, he gave them a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning and leaving the room.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words, the echoes of their emotions lingering in the air.