False memory, the phenomena where one is convinced something has transpired somewhere in the history of time though it hasn’t exactly happened, where they are convinced that they had a fragment of memory of something which is bound to have happened in their timeline, or a timeline in general. In certain occasions, some need to be fed a fragment of that memory to be able to recall one such incident to have happened, while certain remain to be convinced all throughout the time that this particular incident has happened while, in reality, it hasn’t. One can say that it’s a case of believing in a false reality, yet in many cases, it isn’t exactly the case.

Sung Gyu thinks he’s suffering from the condition of false memory, since he keeps recalling seeing a certain weirdo in his back garden that morning, even though he’s pretty damn sure that it never really happened.

Or did it?

He’s in the shower stall at the moment, the cold water raining down on him incessantly and his slightly overgrown dark hair is sticking on to his forehead, occasionally getting in his eyes. He’s distracted, barely paying attention to what is happening around him. It’s not that something significant was going on in his usually dull life. But something strange in the back of his mind keeps gnawing at him that there’s something out of the ordinary taking place somewhere in his vast, empty house. Something to do with a man in a funny silver suit and the sliding door to his back garden. He isn’t sure how these two things are related, regardless, he couldn’t seem to shake off that feeling. He’s sure, the silver suited man is nothing but a part of his false memory or his imagination. But why does he keep hearing the sound of the plastic back door continuously…rattling?

He shakes his head frantically, trying to clear his mind. Whatever happened that morning was only just his hung-over induced imagination. There’s only so much that a weird guy invented in his mind could do.

Even though Sung Gyu is acting like he has all the time in the world at his dispense, the truth is that he’s atrociously trapped with work piling up to the brim. Being a college professor, quiet, late summer mornings are never void of work for him. He’s never had any time to spare, especially not to entertain a mere phantasm. Since he’s been away from home and away from work for two weeks, its finally time that he gets down back to work. He had a couple of dissertation proposals that require his attention, and in the evening, he’s supposed to be meeting his research assistant in order to complete their report on the latest findings on Sri Lankan old world monkeys. There’s quite a variety of them their as well, and it’s going to take time. Before everything, he needs to have breakfast, amongst a few other things.

For some reason, Sung Gyu avoids going anywhere near the patio or the back door and heads straight to the kitchen to grab whatever’s left that he could have for a quick breakfast. Since they lived in a suburban part of the city, away from the town, it’s going to take him a while to reach the university premises, and he’d be extremely late if he plans on getting breakfast on the go. And with Eunji having left him…Sung Gyu looks at the empty chair before him, and lets out a sigh. He misses her. Every bit of her, even though she’s been away for just a couple of hours. At moments like this, he thinks he’s gotten one step closer to understanding her, even though he’s liable to take a dozen steps back in the presence of her and her rather erratic manner of perceiving things. Sung Gyu’s been away from home for way too long, and it happens quite too often, leaving her alone for longer than he intends too. Though she’s over the moon every time he returns after a long travel and expedition, Sung Gyu has guessed as much that she’s always wishing it’s the last time. He feels how it must be to her right now, to be away from a loved one for too long. The empty nest feeling is now coming to him all too strong. He drowns the rest of his coffee then, and with a dejected sigh, he reaches for his phone. He might not be able to completely resolve their dispute over night, especially one which has been progressing over some time. But at least he can set incentives to resolve it. He thinks of what he can write to her as an initiative. That he’s sorry? That he loves her? That he misses her? Despite his confidence in luring a woman into his life, he really is bad at admitting things. Usually, when this happens, Sung Gyu would pull a stunt by pretending to be badly ill and Eunji will hop into her car or the next train to Busan and burst in through the front door, crying. But he’s pretended to be sick for one too many times. Then suddenly, the same rattle he’s thought he’s been hearing erupts from the back of the house, and he nods to himself before typing;

Weird things are happening back at home

He reads the message a few times, and satisfied, he presses send. After a few sips of coffee, however, he feels it might be not enough to actually serve his purpose. There needs to be something stronger. Something which strongly enunciates his true intention. He sighs, picks up his phone then, and types; I miss you

A moment passes, and his fingers are itching to type more, strongly feeling that he’s failed to shower her with all the love she deserves, so he types before he could change his mind, all in frantic messages;

I’m sorry

I love you

Please come home

He’s remarkably exhausted by the time he’s done admitting things against his pride, so he reaches for his keys, stuffs them into his pocket and hurries across the hallway when suddenly;

WHIRRRRR!

To say that Sung Gyu screams like a girl is an understatement. He wails, keels over, quite literally, and jumps two feet when he witnesses the most stifling sight he could have ever come across in his life.

There’s a gaping hole on the sliding plastic door to his back garden, and it being transparent doesn’t help much since he can clearly see a massive lump of sand mounted on his private beach, and there’s that man, that man standing behind the door, looking down at the hole he has-somehow-cut on the thick plastic with a satisfied smile. At first, Sung Gyu turns to leave, convinced that it is, yet again, a figment of his rather eccentric imagination, but when it occurs to him that there is a massive hole on his door of his precious (and expensive) family home, he takes a double take and hurries towards the door.

The man in the silver space suit finally looks up, and Sung Gyu pulls open the door, making a show of it for the idiot to understand that there hadn’t been the need to cut through the door if he needed to break into the house. Or…. has he taken the notion of ‘breaking in’ too accurately to his mind?

“What the hell is wrong with you! Do you realise that you have adamantly destroyed someone’s private property?” Sung Gyu exclaims, reminding himself that he’s most possibly screaming in his dreams, and in dreams, he is entitled to do whatever in the world he would please.

“Destruction isn’t an order I’ve been given, but it had to be done” Says the man in an authoritative tone, not sounding a least bit apologetic for what he did. Sung Gyu doesn’t understand what induced the lucid dream he’s having now, but whatever it is, it sure has managed to build a jerk of a character in his head.

“Order? What order?” Sung Gyu asks, but before the man can answer, he holds up his palm. “Wait, I don’t want to know, I must be mad to ask questions from my own imagination”

He moves to close the sliding door, hoping that the gaping hole would have disappeared the same way his sane understanding has, but when the door closes shut, the hole is still there, and Sung Gyu stumbles back into the house feeling faint. The man in the silver suit, on the other hand, slips in through the hole quite easily, and when he approaches him, Sung Gyu falls into a chair nearby which is laden with heavy piles of books, which falls on the floor with a thud. The strange man doesn’t make a move, regardless, as if he has no idea of the notion of personal space.

“Like I said, I’ve only been given orders by the Inter Galactic Planetary Federation to carry an important message to the leader of the earthlings. I am an envoy. I cause no harm. I only want you to take me to your leader”

Sung Gyu is sure he isn’t hearing things in his mind. The only plausible explanation for the recent events is that this man is a crazy drunk or a complete retard, convinced of himself being a part of an alternate universe. He doesn’t need to meet a leader of any sort. He needs medical attention.

“Are you on drugs?” Sung Gyu asks impulsively and climbs up on his feet, brushing off the dust from his jeans. The man -envoy- tilts his head to a side, and regains his composure back to his usual authoritative stance. “I am no earthling. I do not understand human concepts”

Sung Gyu nods. “Right”

They’re quiet for a moment then, and he’s about to ask the man about his door and whether he’s willing to cover the expenses for a replacement (not that Sung Gyu cannot afford it. It’s just he doesn’t exactly have the time to replace it, besides, he’s not the one who caused a hole on the door the first place) when suddenly, the man pulls out a strange gadget, what seems like a mobile phone at first glance but thicker and a brighter screen (A new model he doesn’t know of, perhaps? It’s understandable, granted that Sung Gyu spends more time chasing monkeys than following modern day technological advancements) and looks up at the other.

“I just investigated the concept of ‘drugs’ in the humonictionary and I have clarified that I clearly am not on any kind of chemical substance. I only require to be taken to the leader”

“H-huh?” Sung Gyu almost falls back into his chair, but gathers his strength to ask in a rather small voice; “W-what…what the hell is humonictionary?” In his mind, he imagines a thick leather bound book made out of human skin and shudders.

Is it possible that he himself has travelled into an alternate universe? Or through time? In a haste, he looks around, takes in his surrounding; the mess in the house, books strewn about and clothes hanging haphazardly on the dusty furniture. There’s a days-old banana peel on the mantel piece. It’s definitely his home; it’s only this man who doesn’t belong here.

“Humonictionary provides sound knowledge on Human concepts, only those recognized in Humanology, but I’m certain that there are more-,”

“Hu-Hu-Humanology?” Sung Gyu splutters, and bursts out laughing. Being an anthropologist himself, hearing such ridiculous terms, he couldn’t help but find it all exceedingly amusing. And he’s pretty sure what this new study of Humanology actually means. It’s not that it particularly gave a wrong impression, but-,

The man looks at Sung Gyu blankly, and tilts his head. “This manner of response, what is known as laughing-,”

Sung Gyu laughs even more. He doesn’t understand why he’s laughing, even. He’s in is house with its back door having been cut a hole on, with the very person who had cut the hole by whatever means, conversing about ridiculous things he had never heard in his life. He gives this man credit for having come up with such outlandish ideas. He’s rather impressed.

“Wait” he wheezes and tries to compose himself. “Is this from your ‘humonictionary’ too?” He begins to laugh again. “From ‘Humanology’? So, what’s the ‘humonictionary’ definition for retards? Because that’s what I think you are”

The man frowns. “I’m no retards. I’m an Envoy from the Inter Galactic Planetary-,”

“-Federation and take you to our leader, right” Sung Gyu supplies, holding up his hand. “Okay. But do enlighten me” He takes his chance to use his own intellect as a scientist against a man who seems inherently stupid. “What exactly is Humanology?”

The man’s face is straight as he proceeds to explain. “Humanology is the study of human beings, a variety of fundamentally intelligent earthlings who exist in large numbers on planet earth”

Sung Gyu stifles yet another boisterous laughter at the man’s grave expression and with much effort, he pulls a straight face. “As much as your explanation is accurate-,” (Although he wants to question the bit about earthlings, he cannot help but admit that he’s quite right) “-the correct term for study of human beings is ‘Anthropology’, you ”

He’s glad that he muttered the very last bit under his breath or he would have to explain what actually means. The man has only caught the actual term for human science, and is now trying to pronounce it in every way he can.

“A-An-Anprothology? An…pothrology? An…thoprology?”

Sung Gyu sighs and looks down at his wrist watch, only to realize that he has somehow wasted good two hours trying to deal with the bizarre turn of events and a weird man turning up at his home that he’s evidently falling behind in all the work he’s supposed to be completing during the day. He finally climbs up on his feet from where he’s been sitting on a pair of old dissertation reports and gives the other man a stern look. “Okay, now I’m done playing around with you. I have work to do. I don’t know what you’re getting at but you better go on your way before I turn you into the police. And I’m being nice here since you don’t seem to be sound in your mind, and-,” He gestures at the door. “I’m letting you off the hook about the door because I don’t want you anywhere near me or my house again…now, please leave”

The man, however, doesn’t seem to budge an inch. He’s just standing there, staring at Sung Gyu for a good few seconds as if he’s thoroughly scrutinizing him. Sung Gyu stares back, feeling uncomfortable for being looked at so meticulously and he realizes, though he again thinks that it’s all in his mind, that there are specs of bright silver in the man’s eyes…almost as if there is mercury in his irises. Sung gyu shakes his head vigorously. It’s all in his mind. He’s seeing things. There’s no way that there could be a silvery liquid in a person’s eyes.

Then suddenly, the man begins to speak as if he’s finally found what he’s been searching for, in the other.

“I was unable to comprehend your previous wordings, human. Neither am I capable of entertaining you for long periods of time. Envoys have no time to waste. Take me to your leader”

Sung Gyu stares at the other for a moment, looking for at least a hint of amusement, or something which proves that he’s just plain mad, and finally runs his hand through his hair with an exasperated sigh. “Look, his…as much as I want to help you with your mental instability, I have no time to deal with some crazy, cosplayer. Just go and play elsewhere”

The man blinks. “Take me to your leader” he says.

“No” Sung Gyu says and moves past him to see what he can do with his back door. It’s beyond repair, and even the blinder’s been cut off.

“Take me to your leader” The man says again, now he’s directly behind him as Sung Gyu mindlessly searches for something that he can use to cover the hole on the door, and also maybe make the strange man unconscious so he can drag him to the nearest hospital and get rid of him for once and for all.

“No, I can’t” Sung Gyu breathes, and locates a large taffeta sheet which he’s previously used to wrap a couple of bones brought down from Mongolia.

“You must take me to your leader”

Sung Gyu drops the taffeta sheet by his feet, finally losing his patient and pushes the other man against the sliding door with so much intensity that the door rattles weakly. He’s had enough for the day. Hell, he’s had enough to last a life time; and with everything that is going on in his life right now, a mad man with mental tendencies is the last he needs on his plate.

“There is no leader goddamn it!” He yells into the man’s face rather loudly, and then…freezes. He can feel something cold and sharp against his waist, even through the soft material of his shirt, and he instinctively realizes that he’s voluntarily walked into the clutches of a dangerous man, a man who has the ability to cut out a perfect circle on a thick plastic door. He gulps hard, moving a trembling hand towards his waist and inhales sharply when he feels it. The man’s hand on his waist…and an unknown piece of armour pressed against him. Sung Gyu looks down into the person’s eyes, which are closer to his inspection now, and sees clearly the specks of glittery silver glimmering vigorously in his eyes. As much as he doesn’t want to believe it or admit it, he has now come into terms of understanding that all of this is real. The door, the large lump on the beach, the silver specks, the weapon on his waist, the man. He feels it all, viciously than ever before. And the look in his eyes, the silver floating inside them like looming parasites, chills him to the bone. He holds his breath.

“Take me to your leader. Or face the consequences, human”

Sung Gyu closes his eyes and gulps hard. As it turns out, redeeming his life is more precedent to any of the errands requiring his attention right now.