Chapter Six

stra·tum

/ˈstrādəm,ˈstradəm/

noun

a layer or a series of layers of rock in the ground; a layer in which archaeological material (such as artifacts, skeletons, and dwelling remains) is found on excavation. 

November 12^th, 5692

“Youngjae, come on! Please!”

Daehyun had been sprawled out on his bed when Youngjae returned from the surface that night, resting on his stomach with his chin propped up by his hands. Now Youngjae was sitting on his own bed, tugging his socks off. He threw one in Daehyun’s general direction. Daehyun yelped and made a noise of disgust, flicking the offending article from his vicinity.

Thick, orange, red, and gold expanses of land, filled with everything the book had told him about and more.

The sky, blue with spots of white and one of gold: the sun.

Magic.

“You’ve gotta tell me about it, I’ll probably never get to go up there like you did!” Daehyun whined.

Youngjae rolled his eyes. “I can’t tell you what’s up there, Dae. I’m sorry.”

Daehyun sat up on his knees and reached over the small space that separated their beds and knocked Youngjae’s shoulder. “It’s not like anybody will find out if you tell me just one little thing.” He pouted, and Youngjae narrowed his eyes, turning away.

“Cut it out, Daehyun.” He shrugged his hand off his shoulder. “It’s classified information, and that’s it. I’m going to bed.”

As it turned out, going to bed really meant lying still in the dark and feeling conflicted. In all honesty, Youngjae had had half a mind to just stay up there; to abandon Hyunwoo and run away. He had wanted to give up on everything he had worked for in Equidem, because the sun had felt a little bit too warm on his skin, and the brightness all around him had made his eyes ache, and walking on grass had been difficult because of how uneven the clumps had rendered the ground.

And the air. It had smelled some sort of way that Youngjae couldn’t use words to describe. The aroma had seemed to be coming from some of the thick trees around them, the ones with dark green needles instead of red, yellow, or orange leaves. It had been… clean, but so much more than that. Breathing it in had felt like therapy, and the moment he had first inhaled it he didn’t want to go back.

When he had returned to Equidem, it felt like he was poisoning himself just by breathing. He had never noticed just how thick and smoggy the air down there was.

Youngjae dreamed of the surface the following nights, and it only made his longing worse. His memories of the land were already starting to get fuzzy, and the thought of them vanishing altogether sent him into a near panic.

He wondered briefly if Hyunwoo was feeling the same way. Maybe they could get out together, if Youngjae could just pull him aside and talk with him––no. That was risking the chance Hyunwoo would rat him out to the higher-ups, and he would be punished.

This would have to be done alone; he couldn’t risk telling anyone, not even Daehyun.

Youngjae rolled over in his bed and stared into the pitch black in the direction of his roommate’s snores. He wasn’t about to drag him into this. Though getting someone other than himself into trouble was the least of his worries, Youngjae wanted to spare him, if more out of pity than anything else. Daehyun was a good friend.

But Youngjae had decided as soon as he was back in Equidem that he would do anything to get back out, and in the end, towing a second person along with him would only slow him down.

November 19^th, 5692

And here Youngjae had begun to think he’d never get an opportunity like this one.

He would need to find a way to thank Bang Yongguk later.

Youngjae knew how to get out of Equidem. He had, on multiple occasions, snooped around his ex-boss’s bookshelves. Carefully, of course, but it turned out to be worth the risk of getting caught in the end, anyway. The books were dense, and Youngjae hadn’t been able to read most of the older ones, ones that dated back over a century. The characters were complex and foreign to him.

The more recent texts had proven more useful. Kim Hyunshik happened to be in possession of volumes that even the National Public Archive didn’t have available. To the people, at least. Youngjae knew things that he doubted any regular citizen in Equidem knew, and it made him feel strangely powerful. He knew that there were people who lived on the surface; he knew that there was a surface. He knew that there were animals and plants and bodies of water and stretches of sky larger and more incredible than anyone down here could possibly imagine.

He could say that he had been there once, and that it was beautiful.

There were maps in the book he had taken. Kim’s arrogance and habit of thinking he was invincible meant he never locked his office, and Youngjae had taken full advantage of that perk, breaking in and slipping out after he had left Daehyun.

He would have to study it on his way; he knew how to get as far as the caves, but from there he couldn’t guarantee being able to navigate out by memory.

According to the book, the caves were the only way out of Equidem, and the entrance was all the way at the edge of the Lower West district.

He wanted to go back, and now he had a reason to. In all honesty, he knew that he could have gotten himself out of accusations regarding the morning’s incident with Kim’s generator no problem, as his most trusted employee, not to mention his smooth rhetoric.

At first Youngjae felt pretty ty for leaving Daehyun behind like that, but he knew Daehyun would figure he was doing the right thing for Youngjae; as long as he didn’t try to plead the truth. That would only get him into trouble.

Youngjae could go back for him.

And further risk his life? Further risk both their lives?

Maybe he was being irrational. Maybe he was being stupid, and this whole thing was a stupid plan and it wouldn’t work and he’d only get Daehyun into more trouble than he would’ve, had he stayed.

Had he stayed, he would never have gathered the courage to leave.

Maybe his subconscious was convincing him to run away under the guise of getting in trouble when really the ulterior motive was just to get away. So, not maybe, definitely.

Selfish.

He didn’t care.

Would he go back for Daehyun? He’d practically made it his life’s work to never leave his friend, never to let him suffer if he could help it. But at the same time he still didn’t quite know why.

Could the adrenaline really be enough to sway his priorities so drastically?

Did he care about Daehyun or did he care about having company? He had always been desperate to avoid loneliness. It was something that never left his side as a kid, only had after he’d graduated from general education and been assigned his first roommate, maybe he could use that excuse to make himself feel better.

He’d been towing Daehyun along with him ever since then; gotten used to his loud presence. Tried to lead him to his own success only to meet resistance.

He didn’t care about Daehyun. No, he didn’t. He would find someone else to befriend. There were plenty of people on the surface… he would just have to find them.

He had to learn that, in this world, it was every man for himself. But what if that changed once he wasn’t in this world anymore?

November 20^th, 5692

Jongup woke to a scare, thinking he was back at the power company, under a thick glass case.

When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t move, and the only word on his mind was no. The ceiling was off-white, and the only things his peripheral vision picked up were walls of the same shade. He could feel there was something stuck to the inside of his arm; the IV. He strained to move, to sit up, wiggle his fingers, anything––but the only thing moving was his heart, faster and faster every second.

He tried to call out, but his voice wasn’t there; his throat wouldn’t work, and his inability to speak or make any sort of noise scared him even more than not being able to move.

No, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be here anymore, he wanted to go home and stay home and never leave his mother’s arms again––there were people above him. Two people. The ones who had taken him. Their faces were fuzzy and he squinted at them, but the clarity was stumped.

The glass over his head vanished; if only he could move, if he could run. This was his chance, and though he knew his body was weak, he didn’t want to let this opportunity go.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, the two men simply seeming to loom over him, just watching, like they were waiting for him to try something. Daring him to move and knowing that he couldn’t. It was cruel, offering freedom right before him, finally, and he couldn’t take it.

They were talking to each other, but the ringing in his ears kept him from deciphering anything. The distant beeping was there, too, quiet. His chest felt heavy and constricted, like there was a weight over it, keeping him down.

And then he registered a distinct lack of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his body. His muscles were achy, but not tense, and his chest didn’t feel about to collapse in on itself with knives poking into his lungs. (As it had before.) The pounding of his head was slightly more under control. He was tired.

Opening his eyes again a minute later was like stepping out of a hazy dream. Except, he was laying down. As one tends to do while asleep.

He couldn’t recall where exactly he had finally passed out, but he knew for sure it hadn’t been this place. Not that this place was a bad place, necessarily; any place was better than that power company.

He noticed that there was a young girl in the room with him, her back turned as she arranged things on a nearby countertop. Her dark hair was short and cropped to her shoulders, hanging loose but messily and swaying slightly with every movement of her arms. She was standing on her tiptoes on top of a stool, and Jongup was sure she wouldn’t be able to reach the counter if her feet were flat on the floor.

As if hearing his thoughts and desiring to prove him right, the girl stepped down and nudged the stool under the counter with a loud scraping noise that made him cringe. She didn’t notice that Jongup’s eyes were open until she was walking past the foot of the cot he was lying on, and when she did, she jumped.

He held her gaze curiously, waiting for her to say something, but instead she turned and ran out the door, letting it fall shut with enough force that the panel of glass at the top in the middle seemed to shake. Or maybe that was just Jongup.

Jongup stared at the blank wall before him and tried to recall what had happened clearly. They had gotten to the clinic––that’s where he must be then, no doubt––, but nothing came after that. He guessed he must have passed out again or something. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

A moment later, the door opened again, and a woman entered, followed closely by the young girl. Jongup looked behind her, hopeful that he might see some slightly-more familiar faces, but none came, and the girl closed the door again, carefully, that time.

The woman patted the girl’s back gently. “Misun, would you get the blood pressure cuff from the cabinet for me?”

It was easy to assume the woman was a doctor. She wore a stethoscope around her neck, and had her long, dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was holding a tablet in one hand, and a small, plastic medicine cup in the other. Jongup’s first instinct was to run, of course, the only thing going through his head for a moment being images of that doctor back in the power company, who constantly administered him with IVs to keep him unconscious and alive. But this was different. He turned to watch the girl, Misun, pull open the door of a lower cabinet and dig around for something. Somehow, the presence of the child put his mind at ease.

The doctor turned to Jongup and gave him a smile, then placed the little cup on a tray attached to the side of the bed. He could see that there was a nametag pinned to her lab coat––which was, strangely, a dark gray color––, but none of the characters were familiar to him.

She pulled a cheap, old-looking metal chair to the side of the bed, a whiney screech echoing as it moved, and sat down beside Jongup.

“I am Doctor Park Jangmi, Lower West District medical license number eight-o-two. That’s my daughter, Misun.”

Jongup nodded at her to indicate that he understood. It was all he could do, really.

“You’re Jongup, right?” She smiled at him.

Jongup thought her smile was too bright to be in the underground, and he nodded again.

She nodded back at him. “You were out for quite a while. I’m sure you’re wondering where your friends are.”

This time, Jongup just blinked at her. He had been wondering that, and it was kind of unsettling that she seemed aware.

“They’re just out in the lobby,” she said, waving her hand toward the door. “I already had a chat with them in my office.”

In truth, Jongup’s mind was still pretty fuzzy, and it took him longer to decipher her words than he would have liked to admit.

Misun trotted back over to her mother and held out the cuff. She faltered when Jongup met her eyes, and he could tell she was doing her best to not stare; he appreciated that. Jongup gave her a small smile and then her mother sent her across the small room again.

“I’d like to check your vital signs, now that you’re awake,” Doctor Park said.

Jongup let her take his arm, thankful that his jacket had been removed so that he wouldn’t need to do it himself. He had a feeling that maneuvering like that wouldn’t be a great idea, if the ever steady ache in his chest was telling him anything. He could practically feel the daggers hovering just over his lungs, ready to jerk forward if he so much as stretched in the wrong direction, or breathed too hard.

The doctor secured the cuff around his bicep, Jongup watching as she slid the stethoscope from around her neck and positioned the flat of it against the inside of his elbow, just below the cuff. Jongup shivered as the cold metal pressed against his skin, which he noticed was looking awfully more pale that it usually did. Maybe it was the lighting. It looked thin, too; he could see all the veins on the insides of his wrists, branched out in blue and purple.

His stomach ached, and the burn in his throat was building up again. Luckily, she was quick, the tight squeeze around Jongup’s arm barely registered among the rest of his body’s aching.

Doctor Kim took his blood pressure, and then his pulse.

“When was the last time you ate a full meal?” she asked.

Too long ago to be healthy, Jongup was sure. He shrugged, not knowing how long it had been since he’d been taken.

“Your friends told me that they found you just yesterday, which was the nineteenth of November.”

Had it only been a week?

Jongup held seven fingers up, and the doctor frowned deeply. “Days?” She clicked her tongue.

Jongup was getting tired of nodding. At least she seemed to already understand that he couldn’t speak, probably thanks to Junhong and Himchan. That would have been difficult to explain himself. He hoped they hadn’t told her too much; that could be dangerous.

“I’m going to add supplements to your IV,” she said, standing. “Is it alright if I take a look at the wound on your neck?”

Jongup wondered if she knew that it had been a surgical procedure. If not, surely she would be able to tell right away. He was wondering a lot of things at the moment; he found it strange that she wasn’t questioning his appearance like Junhong had, or asking him where he was from. He could probably thank the roommates for that later, too.

Doctor Park joined her daughter in front of the counter, and patted her head.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to grab something. Will you keep Jongup company for me while I’m gone?”

Misun nodded her head.

As soon as the doctor was out the door, a tickle crawled its way up Jongup’s throat, and he couldn’t hold back the barrage of dry coughs that scratched their way out of him. One of his hands hovered over his neck, as if pressing against it would ease the pain, while the other braced itself palm down on the mattress. He needed to sit up, he felt like he was choking on air. He tried to push himself up, but between the coughs and the ache of his body that made itself more present with every flex of his muscles, and his arm shook under his weight.

Suddenly there was a small hand on his shoulder, and another sliding over his back, helping him up and positioning the pillow behind him so that he could lean on it. As soon as the coughing fit subsided, he gave Misun a smile, hoping she understood his thanks.

She just returned to the chair beside the bed, not saying a thing. Her feet didn’t touch the ground as she scooted all the way back, and she swung her legs back and forth. She was so tiny; almost frail, even.

Everybody had wide eyes in Equidem, but Misun’s seemed endless. Jongup supposed that it made sense for people to have naturally evolved with wider pupils after living in caves and deep underground for centuries. And it wasn’t just their pupils, the shape of their eyes in general was more rounded, while Jongup had been used to seeing his own sharper, narrowed eyes. He had noted the (comparably) strange likeness Himchan’s eyes had to his own (though they were still wider), in how the outside corners had such an elegant shape, and sharper edges than the other people he had seen in town, and Junhong, especially. Junhong had much softer, more rounded eyes; they gave off such a bright aura of youth and naivety that Jongup almost didn’t believe he could be just a year younger than him, as he had proudly claimed.

When Doctor Park came back, she placed a few things beside the bed, and quickly added what was needed to the IV drip.

“This should hopefully have you feeling a little bit stronger in a while,” she said. “I also grabbed some nutrition drinks, though I’m not sure how much you’ll be able to actually get down. They told me you were able to eat and drink a little, but that it was hard for you.”

Jongup eyed the bottles she had placed near him. They were opaque white, and there were labels printed on them that he couldn’t read. He had a sinking feeling that the drinks wouldn’t be especially enjoyable, especially considering how difficult it had been to drink even just water.

“Now, I would like to keep you here for at least another twenty-four hours, but there are a few… complications.” Doctor Kim patted Misun’s shoulder with one hand, and put the other on her hip with a sigh.

“I want to help you, but it’s quite obvious you are not from around here, and you have no form of identification, let alone citizenship. I can excuse your care as a life or death emergency, but not for longer than twenty-four hours, and you’ve been here about five.”

Jongup nodded along, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. This had the potential to go downhill very fast.

“So, if you aren’t able to come up with the correct forms within that amount of time, I’ll have to kick you out.” The doctor sighed, and her arm fell to her side. “Honestly, my job is to make sure people are healthy. I just want you to be assured that, as long as you don’t stay past the twenty-four hour mark without identification, I won’t get involved in… whatever there is to get involved in.” She waved her hand around, as if swatting at a fly.

Did they have flies down here?

“And don’t worry about fees, I’m paid by the government at a fixed hourly rate. We don’t charge patients here.”

Doctor Kim showed Jongup how the drinks worked; they were thick and reminded him of milk, but more dense. Each one was the equivalent of the nutrients and calories a meal would be, and she instructed he drink four over the course of the day, offering to supply them with more when they left for a discounted price.

That would be up to Junhong and Himchan, but Jongup didn’t want them to spend what little money they had on him.

The drinks were easier to get down that he’d thought they would be, the liquid was smooth and cool, actually soothing his throat more than irritating it. He felt miraculously better only a half hour after finishing the first one, and decided that, despite the gross, processed taste and the irritable consistency, he liked them.

“I’m thinking you’ll only need to wait a few days before eating solid food again,” Doctor Kim said as she began to remove the bandage across his throat, “considering how easy it was for you to drink that. The damage to your esophagus is likely minimal compared to that of your vocal chords.” Her fingers were cold.

“I’m surprised that whoever did this used an incision to get inside…” she murmured as she peeled away the layers of gauze. “This type of procedure should be done with an endoscopy. I wonder if they just didn’t have the equipment.” She trailed off, eyes focused carefully as she deposited everything into the garbage. “Doesn’t look too bad from the outside.” She went to the sink and washed her hands, beginning to prod gently at the wound immediately upon her return.

Jongup winced and she apologized, pulling away and taking more supplies down from the cabinets.

“Well, it’s quite swollen, but that’s to be expected. I’m not surprised you’re in so much pain, seeing as they used incisions on your throat. Does it feel kind of like your choking all the time?”

How did she know?

Jongup nodded, and held up his hand, forefinger and thumb a centimeter apart.

“A little bit, okay. Now, all of the coughing. It seems to me that all of your symptoms can be directly blamed on your recent malnutrition, but this seems odd to me. It could be irritation on the inside of your throat, but, then again, I doubt they went in that far…”

Jongup shrugged. He really didn’t like all of these one-sided conversations. He didn’t like them at all.

“Would you like to see it?” She dug around in a drawer and pulled out a mirror, then held it out to him. Jongup took it. It was small and round, but he could still see his reflection clearly enough. He looked awful, and he realized just how badly he wanted and needed to take a shower.

Short, black sutures stretched across an incision mark just below his Adam’s apple, and above his voice box horizontally. Jongup counted six. They were obviously still pretty fresh, the skin around the edges red and raised into irritated bumps. There was a line of dried blood crusted over the wound, which was only about an inch long.

Jongup inhaled deeply (well, as deeply as he was capable) through his nose, and put the mirror down. It looked just as painful as it felt.

Doctor Kim swiped up the mirror and returned it to its drawer. “I’m just going to clean it for you, and then replace the bandage,” she said. “When you leave, I can give you a bit of supplies to replace it with yourself, preferably once a day for about a week.”

Jongup did his best to hold still when she spread a clear, stinging solution across the wound, and he looked away when the gauze she pressed against it came back red.

“I’d like to listen to your lungs,” she said after taping down the fresh bandage, and removed the stethoscope from where it rested around her neck, again. “Can you push your shirt up for me and lean forward a little bit?”

Jongup struggled to manage both leaning forward and stretching his arm to hold up his shirt, but he made do, trying not to shiver as the doctor pressed the cold metal against his chest.

“Take a few long, deep breaths.” She shifted behind him and slid the stethoscope around and over to his back.

He managed two before a fit of coughing overtook him once again.

“Lungs sound normal, though your breaths aren’t very deep,” she concluded. “Your coughing sounds dry, but that’s a good thing, so don’t worry.”

Jongup eased back into a more comfortable position, still shivering at the cold trail the metal had left over his chest and back.

“So, a cause related to the irritation around your throat would make sense, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if it had to do with the weakness of your immune system at the moment. People are much more susceptible to illness when they’re as malnourished as you’ve been.” The doctor gathered her things and motioned for Misun to follow her out the door.

“All I can do for you is tell you to be patient,” she said with a shrug. “Other than a few painkillers, there’s really nothing else I can do for you, or need to do for you. All in all, I think it’s safe to say you’ll be fine and back to normal within a few days. I’ll send your friends in after I talk to them, and you can decide where to go from here.”

Jongup returned the soft smile she gave him, and raised his hand to wave goodbye to Misun, who turned to watch him as she followed her mother into the hallway.

He was relieved to know that he would be fine and normal within a manageable timeframe, but he also doubted the diagnosis, if only because the doctor was missing some pretty important information. No way could she possibly know anything about all that his magic had to do with this, and the fact that he probably wouldn’t really feel himself again until he returned to the surface. He had a hunch about the cause of all his coughing, too; Urbs Equidem produced disgustingly large amounts of pollution, and particulate matter was especially difficult to control. Jongup figured his body simply wasn’t used to so much waste being circulated through his lungs. It was probably poisoning him.

He knew he was lucky nothing had managed to infect him so far, but the longer he stayed down here, the more likely it was to happen. Jongup’s magic––the most ancient variety in the world––had roots in healing, and he knew that his immune system was vastly more strong than those without green magic, but it wouldn’t do him much good if he had no source of power.

The only solution to the problem was going home.

What d’you think is up there?” Junhong wondered Himchan, who was, falling asleep in the chair next to him, not listening. “Do you think we’ll get to see it? It’s not like we have anywhere else to go, really… maybe we can just stay there with him.”

Junhong had been rambling about the mysteries of Jongup’s world ever since the doctor’s daughter, Misun, had come back and tugged on her mother’s coat as indication that he had woken up. She had only been gone for what was probably about ten minutes, but the time dragged out viscously for Himchan, who was managing to both worry about their predicament and be drowsy at the same time.

Junhong didn’t seem tired at all, and Himchan blamed his youth. He had slept a little bit on the train, but didn’t the average young adult need, like, ten hours of sleep a day or something? Himchan watched the way he bounced his leg up and down, wondering what his roommate could possibly be running on.

They had given Doctor Park the most watered down version of their story they could in her office. Jongup had been subject to a procedure he hadn’t consented to, and could no longer speak or make any sounds without extreme pain. He hadn’t eaten in a while. Also, he was coughing a lot, and nobody needed to worry about his hair color or the marks on his neck and hands. Further questions regarding his background went unanswered. Doctors weren’t allowed to deny service to anyone, and Jongup’s situation was serious enough for her to prioritize his wellbeing over his background, which they were all thankful for.

But there was one thing Himchan couldn’t stop running through his head, and it was the conversation he and Junhong had with the doctor after she asked them where they had come from, and they had told her they lived in the Upper North district, which they did. Well, they had.

“Really?” She had raised her eyebrows. “I know someone who works for a company up there. He’s just a receptionist, though. Never any good with mechanics, and things like that, you know.”

Junhong and Himchan looked at each other at the same time. “Who?” Himchan asked after a moment’s hesitance.

“His name’s Bang Yongguk.”

Junhong blanched, but the doctor didn’t notice, busy skimming something on the tablet in front of her, for which Himchan was very grateful. Doctor Park sighed and looked over at her daughter, who was across the room, a smaller tablet in her own hands. “I haven’t seen him in years––” she gestured to Misun “––not since she was a toddler.” She pursed her lips. “He’s her father,” she said. “Told me he would come visit her. Never showed after that.”

Junhong blanched again, less subtly that time, and Himchan elbowed him in the side to keep him from saying anything. He coughed.

“You don’t seem to favor him much,” Himchan prodded.

Doctor Park sat back in her chair. “No, I do not.”

“We worked with him,” Junhong said. Himchan kicked him in the shin under the table. “He was actually the one who helped me… help Jongup. Kinda saved us both, actually,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it hadn’t been for him. He left before us, afraid of… general repercussions and such, as we were.”

Himchan winced at Junhong’s explanation. “Does Yongguk have family here in the Lower West?” he interrupted.

Doctor Park furrowed her eyebrows. “Not as far as I’m concerned,” she said. “He was born in the Upper North. I only met him because I was sent to school there. Why do you ask?”

“He said he knew somebody here,” Junhong chimed in. “Someone who would help him out, being on the run, and all that.”

Doctor Park shook her head. “That’s probably me, I assume.”

Junhong’s heart turned to stone for a second. “And you haven’t seen him?”

She shook her head. Misun skipped back over to their side of the room and promptly seated herself in Himchan’s lap.

Himchan turned to Junhong, not minding the girl for a second. “He left at least two hours before us,” he murmured.

“Maybe it takes longer to get here by car,” Junhong offered.

“You can’t travel between districts by car,” Doctor Park interrupted. “The borders.”

Only trains could go directly through the borders.

“Maybe he just snuck onto the wrong train, or something,” he said, but they all knew that was unlikely. They all ran on the same list of stops, even the freight trains. Yongguk would have made it no matter what, had he managed to get on one.

“Maybe,” Himchan echoed.

i had MAJOR struggles writing this chapter, and eventually i kinda just decided i wouldn't ever really be happy with it, so here it is!
i hope it wasn't too bad or anything. i always get nervous posting my writing, but i just feel like i didn't do a very good job this time x-x
i'm excited for the next one, though, so hopefully i'll have an easier time with it.

thanks for reading!