Johnny never thought he’d feel relieved to see the blank white walls of his laboratory, but it was a much more welcoming sight than eight pairs of eyes glaring at him. He pulls at the collar around his shirt to loosen it, but the feeling of a hand around his throat still hung around like a shadow. Subject number 007, Yuta, was the hardest to calm down after the incident.

He flicks to the first page in his full table-sized manual. His finger trailing down the page until it came to index number beside the word ‘Dream-State Transitions’.

It’s not like he did this on purpose to their friend. With something as complex as dream states, there always is some variability, a chance that something goes wrong. And if anything, he was their greatest asset. He would be the most helpful if they wanted to save their friend. But they have no idea. He parts the book to the right section and with a thud the manual splits in half, to a page decorated in graphs and charts with one large title bannering the page that reads “Complications.”

“Dream-state transitions vary from subject to subject.” Johnny reads under his breath. “Complications are rare but not uncommon. Extended unconsciousness, psychosis, and even …” Johnny’s finger glides over the word “fatalities”. His body tenses, and he shifts in his chair uncomfortably.

“It’s nothing”, he whispers to himself before clearing his throat and continuing.

“Transitioning from one dream level to another, especially for an unexperienced and unexpecting subject, can cause rifts between consciousness and reality. Mind and body are shifted out of phase which can cause an immediate danger response from the subject. It is best to keep subject from unexpectedly traversing of levels-”

He doesn’t want to read about prevention; he wants solutions. He skips down to the last paragraph. “If complications do occur, the best method is to wait for the subject to recover independently. Alternatively, a shock to either the mind or body, such as an electric stimulus can force the subject into realignment.”

Johnny leans back in his chair, his eyes traveling across the dark wires that run across the walls. His mind running over the information from the manual. He didn’t tell the boys that he has no idea what was happening to Doyoung. If Doyoung really did enter a deeper dream level, he still would have woken up by now. This is something he’d never been briefed on before. But still, there was no doubt in his mind that Doyoung would eventually recover on his own.

The word “fatalities” suddenly flashes across his memory.

Perhaps, he’ll prepare for a system shock...just in case. The spare jumper cables should be in the filing cabinets somewhere.

Johnny sighs. He hopes Doyoung appreciates all the work he’s putting in for him.

He’s about to go look for the jumper cables when suddenly Johnny remembers something important and his gaze is drawn back to the manual. He flips back to the index, his eyes scanning over each word. Light. Pink light. Light emission. None of those words were listed.

Sure, Doyoung’s case was important, unusual, and an issue for him. But, his thoughts run back to the basement, when all the subjects were still asleep. Johnny was pacing around, making notes in his log book as usual when he paused beside Ten’s bed.

It was hard to notice at first, in fact he had almost missed it, but Ten’s hand was glowing. The glow was a subtle pink that wound up his fingertips and as Johnny watched closely, it started running up Ten’s arm, bled into his chest and was slowly working its way up Ten’s neck. Johnny had watched in unbelief, his hand hovering over Ten’s face. Until the glow suddenly vanished, back into the pale color of Ten’s skin like it had never been there before.

It was the same. The same glow that he sometimes sees coming from Ten’s pod room. The same glow he messaged headquarters about over and over. And the same glow that, no matter how hard he looked, was not listed anywhere in his all-knowing manual.

***

“1578, 1579, 1580...”

Yuta tosses a jack into a sloping pile of playing cards that floods the basement floor. Mark pens down the number 1581 on his notepad.

Ten watches the two from his seat beside Jaehyun, who’s in the metal bed his eyes barely open.

“Still feeling bad? ” Ten looks down at his friend

“It’s nothing. I always feel like this after a dream-session. It’s him that you should be more worried about.”

Ten knows that Jaehyun is referring to Doyoung who still sleeps peacefully two beds down, but he doesn’t turn around to look. He can’t bring himself to see Do like that.

If Jaehyun didn’t refuse to leave Doyoung’s side, Ten wouldn’t even be down here in the basement in the first place. It’s been two days already but that vision of Doyoung vanishing away in the sands still haunts him.

“Plus, it’s interesting to watch those two, anyway.” Jaehyun laid back down on his pillow.

Yuta flicked a queen of hearts on the deck, watching it slide down the pile, before throwing his head back in frustration. “Mark, what are we even doing this for anyway?

Mark, clicks his pen shut and looks back up at Yuta. “Data. We need data. So that we can figure out our limitations. That way maybe we can help Doyoung. Can you produce another card?”

Yuta shakes his head. “I’m too tired. I’m done.”

“Seems like your limit is around 1,600 cards. Now we know that the more objects you produce, the more energy you exert. Also, we know that whatever you make doesn’t disappear if we don’t want it too. No matter how many you produce. How ‘bout you take a break and let’s try making something other than cards when you get back.”

Ten eyes the two, watching Mark as he writes down his last notes. He’s sure what Mark’s doing is important but the way he says it’s all for Doyoung’s sake doesn’t sound right. Mark is too confident about this being a solution, in reality they all don’t know what’s going on or how to fix it.

“Don’t look at me like that. This is my way of helping.” Mark speaks up as if he read Ten’s mind.  “ If we can understand our abilities better then maybe we can prevent whatever happened to him, happening to anyone else.”

“You talk like he’s already a lost cause.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

Ten knows. He tells himself that Mark isn’t doing anything wrong. Mark is just doing what he can and it’s more than what he, himself, is doing. But he’s just so wound-up right now. Everything is strange and uncomfortable like the entire world had shifted a few degrees. To be honest he’s the worst friend of them all, he can’t even bring himself to look at Do.

“Why don’t you try?”

“Huh?” Ten is shaken from his thoughts as Mark is now staring back at him. “So far only Yuta can create things outside of the dream-world. All the other boys already tried and failed, expect you.”

Maybe it was Ten being wound-up again, but he could swear Mark’s tone was not just inquisitive; it also had a hint of accusation.

“I can’t even make things inside the dream world what makes you think I can do it in reality?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Mark closes his notebook. “but I’ll respect your decision either way.”

“I-I just…” Ten’s mind travels to his hand then to memory of Doyoung disappearing and the strange vision. “I just know I can’t create anything. I’ve already tried.”

Another lie. Ten doesn’t know if he can or not. He’s just avoiding it. Running away. To be honest, his fear is that he ends up like Jaehyun or Doyoung or that lady in his vision. That once he gets too involved in this mess, he’ll be unable to get out.

Mark doesn’t pry any longer but Ten is sure that he hasn’t completely let it go. He’ll bring it up again later. But what, Ten wonders, will his reply be then.

***

Mark reads over the last of his notes from observing Yuta before looking out into the plains that glowed golden in the afternoon sun, He leans back on the creaking clubhouse roof, eyes traveling across the horizon. Neither Taeyong or Haechan have been seen near the clubhouse which means they’re somewhere out there, on the plains. Taeyong probably had to clear his mind of everything, but he can take care of himself so there’s no need to worry about him.

But Haechan, Mark lets out a sigh, he’s maybe too young to know how to process everything. And if Mark’s being honest, he hasn’t been the nicest person to Haechan these days. It’s just that the stress is really been getting to him. What happened to Doyoung has pushed him over the edge. He knows that with data, with more observations, he can figure out what exactly is happening to everyone. It’s only a matter of time but… He fears that perhaps by the time they figure everything out, that it’ll be too late for some of the other boys too. Doyoung lying on that bed in the musty basement still lingers in his mind.

The graphs and evidence that he’s been compiling swirl around in his brain when he closes his eyes, but nothing is connecting. There’s still so much missing in his data that he can’t make sense of it all. And it frustrates him to no end.

Why did the experimenter want to show us how to enter dreams? What really happened to Doyoung? Why can all of us create things in the dream states but only one of us only create things in reality?

And then Mark thinks back to Ten. Ten’s case is weird, and he never talks about it, but all the boys know that he vanishes sometimes and appears miles away. And he refuses to try creating something. Mark feels like whatever Ten knows could be a key to figuring this all out.

He rubs at his temples. None of this is making sense to him, but these questions maybe they’re too recent. Maybe he’s only addressing the symptoms of the real problem. Go back, Mark, further than that. Before the experimenter showed up. Why were ten boys living in this clubhouse together in the first place? Where did we come from? Why did he not question things before now?

But a small movement on the plains catches his attention, and he pulls the binoculars to his eyes. His lips spread into a smile when he sees a little orange dot a few hundred meters away. “Found you.”

Mark finally makes it to the thick oak tree after a few hours-worth of walking and sees Haechan huddled behind it, his head hanging down. He approaches hesitantly, wondering what he’d do if Haechan was crying. He wasn’t good with tears, but Mark was the closest to Haechan in age so if anyone was going to understand him, maybe it was himself.

He laid a hand on the youngest shoulder, who flinched but didn’t turn around. “Haechan, it’s just me Mark. I wanted to know if you were okay? If you need anyone to talk to… I can hear you out.”

The youngest pauses for a second before the back of his head bobs up and down as a reply.

“What’s happening to Doyoung is something none of us expected so it’s not our fault and it’s not your fault.” Mark moves around the tree to face Haechan but Haechan swiftly turns his body away.

He probably is crying and doesn’t want him to see.

“Look there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Again, Mark tries to crouch down beside Haechan but the youngest gets up and moves.

A tinge of frustration builds up in Mark that always tends to happen when he’s around Haechan, but he calms himself with a long drawn out exhale. Let’s try to be more understanding, Mark. He must be in a lot of pain.

“Haechan please just look at me.” This time Mark moves fast and Haechan is too slow. Mark pulls Haechan toward him so that they’re now face to face but his expression falls. Haechan’s eyes are dry, in fact they’re wide in shock. But it’s what’s in his arms that make Mark stagger backwards.

“What are you doing with those?”

Needles. The same ones that the experimenter uses to get them into the dream state -two of them were clenched between Haechan’s fist. “I-I just found them.”

“You…” Mark scoffs. “I thought you were sad about Doyoung but turns out you’re just a thief.”

“I didn’t steal them, I swear. Don’t tell Taeyong.” Haechan whines.

“Give them to me. I’m returning them.”

“No.” Haechan backs up, and slips the needles into his shoulder bag. “These days all you talk about is how you need more data. Well here it is. More data. Why return it to the experimenter? The guy that none of us trust.”

The youngest, brushes Mark’s hands off of him with a scowl. But Mark is stuck in his thoughts contemplating what Haechan just said. He wasn’t wrong. In fact, this may be that missing piece that he needed.

“Where did you find them?” Mark asks.

“Remember when Yuta almost punched the experimenter, well his briefcase fell to floor, and these two needles fell out. I was thinking, with these we can send ourselves to the dream world. Maybe we can save Doyoung like that. Also, there’s this.” Haechan pulls up a cassette tape that draws Mark’s eyes each way that Haechan moves it. “Still want to return them?”