A peculiar tingle of deja vu plagued Minhyuk’s mind as he drove through the desolate snow-covered landscape of the Gobi Desert. It looked a bit different from how he’d seen it in his dreams but the daunting feeling was uncannily familiar and very, very real.

 

Minhyuk checked the coordinates again through his lenses.

 

 

He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and kept driving.

 

Soon, a shape became visible on the horizon. The structure from the satellite image. Minhyuk squinted, zooming in with his lenses to get a better look at the structure. It appeared to be a dilapidated yurt.

 

The signs of wear and abandonment became increasingly apparent as Minhyuk drew closer in the jeep. From the looks of it, the yurt hadn’t been lived in for a long time.

 

Minhyuk continued driving until he got close enough, then rolled to a stop and hopped out of the jeep. For a moment, he simply stood staring at the yurt. He felt incredibly nervous about what he might find inside despite the fact that the thermal scan from his lenses was telling him there were no signs of life.

 

Minhyuk closed his eyes and inhaled the ice-cold desert air.

 

“Hakyeon…”

 

A misty white puff of vapor left Minhyuk’s lips as he opened his eyes.

 

He reached out with a hesitant hand, paused, then pushed open the door.

 

A small shower of dust fell as Minhyuk entered the yurt, causing him to cough and shut his eyes again on instinct.

 

“Aish…” He muttered, swatting the air in an attempt to clear it faster.

 

He waited a moment for the dust to settle again, then peered around.

 

The interior was sparsely furnished and somewhat dim, though not as dark as expected with the skylight illuminating the center of the room. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, which indicated to Minhyuk that his initial assessment had been correct. The place hadn’t been touched in years.

 

Cautiously, Minhyuk began picking his way through the abandoned items littering the floor. There was a moth-eaten sleeping bag, an aluminum thermal blanket, water canteens, several packets of expired Korean instant noodles, and an array of familiar looking scientific instruments.

 

Minhyuk’s pulse quickened as he approached the table which held the electronics. He picked up one of the handheld devices and felt a swell of emotion he hadn’t been prepared for.

 

It was the meteor tracker, just like the one in his dreams, only this time there was no blinking light. The screen was completely dead.

 

Minhyuk turned the device over and pried open the back.

 

Corroded batteries.

 

The tightness in Minhyuk’s chest finally broke as he threw the tracker with an anguished cry. It clattered to the floor, raising a fresh cloud of dust that made his eyes water. Or was it just his tears? Either way it didn’t matter. There would be no one to see or hear him in this place.

 

“Hakyeon why…why didn’t you come back…what happened to you goddammit!…”

 

Minhyuk collapsed to the floor, letting his grief take over for the first time without restraint.

 

It was real now. No more delusions.

 

--------------------

 

The morning came early with rising flames that came not from the sun, but from the smoldering remains of the yurt which had been set ablaze at first light.

 

Minhyuk stood motionless. Eyes fixed on the tendrils of smoke that were ascending into the empty sky. The unmistakable ache of loss was still heavy in his heart, and yet a part of him felt relieved that he was finally being given the closure he needed.

 

He watched for a few more minutes, then lowered his gaze and turned to get into his jeep. As he lifted his foot to step up into the vehicle, there was an odd crunching sound of plastic. Minhyuk looked down at the spot where his foot had been and saw to his surprise…

 

 

Minhyuk knelt down to pick up the thumb drive and examined it closely. Though it didn’t appear to be damaged too badly from the weight of his foot, the USB plug was showing signs of rust and corrosion from many seasons of exposure to the elements.

 

At first, his instinct was to chuck the USB into the fire with everything else, but his attachment stopped his hand from making the throw. It would be wrong to destroy Hakyeon’s data files, if that was indeed what was inside the thumb drive, and with help from Peniel and Changsub there was a high chance that the memory chip could still be salvaged.

 

Minhyuk bit his lip as he pondered the emotional consequences of digging into Hakyeon’s files. He had a feeling that doing so might end up being counteractive in the process of letting go. Still, the fact remained that Hakyeon’s work had been extremely important in shaping Minhyuk’s life up to this point. To throw away what was left would be an erasure of his own past, not just Hakyeon’s.

 

A gust of wind blew past Minhyuk’s cheek, causing him to shiver. He looked up again at the burning yurt. The dancing flames, which seemed to be leaping even higher now in the wind, were mirrored vibrantly in the reflection of his scarlet colored eyes. It was all the sign he needed.

 

Closing his fingers tightly around the thumb drive, Minhyuk rose to his feet once more. He pocketed the keepsake, then with one last long look at the blazing ruins, he turned his back on the fire.