Chapter Text
Five years ago, the world lost its light and plunged into a pitch-black abyss. It did not, however, lose its darkness or fade into obscurity. It has been five years since what is known as the "blinding," or the moment when all humans mysteriously lost their ability to see.
There was no one who could explain why this phenomenon happened. The scientists could not explain it, but then, how could they, having lost their sight? The most popular theories involved the military or the government inadvertently detonating nuclear weapons. Some religious people believed it to be the beginning of the impending day of judgment, while others believed it to be aliens. Hyunjin found it all implausible, but who is he to judge whether it is true when, like everyone else, he has no idea what was going on or any insider knowledge?
It took a while for humanity to adapt to this new way of life. Cars are no longer in use, and airports and other vehicle-related facilities are not operational. It took some time to figure out how to work in factories and farms without vision in order to provide food. Thankfully, after months of waiting, humanity was finally able to move forward. Regular jobs resurfaced after a year. While most jobs are now performed differently, this is still evolving. There are some difficulties, but he would rather have them than humanity gradually crumbling due to a lack of sense.
It started like every other day for him. He got up, had breakfast, took a shower, and went through his drawers to find the clothes he needed. It was still pretty cold; even though winter had ended a few months earlier, he dressed in jeans and what felt like a jumper based on the material's thickness and feel. He understands that his clothes, like everyone else's, are mismatched in color, but fashion is meaningless without sight,
After finding his cane, he left the apartment. He works at a library. He does not own the library, but he works there five days a week, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The majority of the books have been replaced with braille or audiobooks. He misses being able to read words on pages, and while he can still become immersed in the story, it is not the same. Books were expressions of the brain linked to the deepest emotions, and on those pages, the higher brain was infused with soul guidance, empathy, and creative ability. It exemplified humankind's intellect at its best, demonstrating how these logical abilities are only beneficial when combined with love. So, while they were only papery pages printed with printing press ink, they provided many people with hope.
Before the blinding, he danced professionally and painted in his spare time. While he can still do both, painting in particular is not the same. What is the point of creating a piece if you can not appreciate or criticize it afterwards? He has tried painting a few times since, but it always ends with either a mess of paint or him being unable to envision what he wants to paint. He is absolutely certain his floors are stained. Isn't it strange how the shapes of objects you have seen all your life can be easily forgotten? Birds, flowers, clouds, and trees all appear to be mismatched figures and hollow shapes; could this be his overthinking? Could it be that he is obsessing over their appearance, which is causing them to look strange? Or does he imagine them correctly but believe he does not? Either way, it is not really important anymore.
He can not help but listen to the sounds of nature as he moves toward the library, which is fortunately only three blocks away: the rustling of the trees, the chirping of the birds, the burbling of the water in the drains, the tapping of footsteps, and the scraping of canes across the ground. He became more appreciative of sounds after losing his sight. His ears have always been sensitive to loud noises, and they still are, but he can now hear the small details more clearly.
The sensation of being watched is one thing he detests. Surely no one should be able to see? However, the hair on his skin uncomfortably rises every time he leaves his apartment. Or perhaps it is just paranoia.
He carefully walked up the few stairs to the library entrance, reaching into his jeans pocket for the key; the keychain had multiple keys with braille labels. He turned the key in the lock, and heard a click that indicated the door was no longer locked. As the door opened, a loud screech reverberated throughout the empty library. He hated that. He promised himself for weeks that he would get the hinges oiled, but he never did.
He let the door slam behind him and padded behind the front desk, reaching to flip the light switch. While the light is not necessary, it does provide him with a sense of reassurance that something shines in the dark even when he can not see it, letting him know that he is not alone.
The day went by as usual, which was fine with him; all he had to do was repack some shelves and check out a few books. He enjoys the tranquil atmosphere of the library. It was a place where he could be alone with his thoughts. After locking the door, he let out a yawn and stretched his shoulders. He pressed his right hand against the braille watch strapped to his left wrist at 5:10 p.m. While his job required little effort, eight-hour shifts are still extremely exhausting, and he had barely slept the previous night. The sensation of being watched followed him as he shuffled down the stairs, and as it always did, the hairs on his skin stood on end. What if some people had somehow regained their sight? Why did they not say anything if there were? But, while it appears unlikely that anyone has regained sight, nothing is impossible.
He has always been curious about how the world has changed. Were some surfaces overgrown with grass and plants due to a lack of maintenance? Was it still as bright as before, or had it faded into dullness? Is the sky still a stunning aqua blue, with fluffy white clouds, or is it now dark and devoid of the clouds that take on the forms you can only dream of?
There were a lot less footsteps and murmurs than there had been earlier, which suggested that the streets were not as crowded.
He was at least a block from home when pain shot through his eyes like fire, causing him to wince, then exploded with blinding whiteness, making him dizzy. The pain felt as though needles that had been dipped in alcohol were being repeatedly jammed through his eyeballs. What is happening? Am I dying? A barrage of questions raced through his mind, exacerbating the panic coursing through his body. He noticed that his face was damp. Was it blood? Or maybe tears? He couldn’t tell.
Almost as quickly as it had started, the pain subsided and became a dull throbbing throughout his head. When he opened his closed eyes, the overwhelming darkness he had been accustomed to for the previous two years suddenly transformed into blotches of hazy colors that gradually began to take the shape of objects, startling him. He frantically glanced around, bewildered. The world did not look as he had imagined; the grass was not overgrown due to a lack of maintenance; it lacked vibrancy, and the sky lacked its beautiful aqua, white, and fluffy clouds. Instead, there were red words painted on almost every surface, and huge shadows covered the sky, reflecting deformed gray shapes on the ground.
He looked at the paint that had been hastily scrawled out. He had not read letters like these in a long time, and he had nearly forgotten what they meant. By the time he deciphered their foreboding message, he understood why the world had lost its light. The vision of the world as it was and what it became was too much. Large ships had taken over the sky, and monsters were watching the average passerby on the rooftops. His entire body shook. Who knows what they would do if he made one wrong move? He looked to the ground and shuffled, his cane extended in front of him. Trying to fit in with the rest of the crowd. The sightless eyes of the commuters wander. "Do not let them know you can see" was scrawled in red letters on surfaces as he ran home, but it was too late. He has seen the monsters, and they have seen him.
The four closest to him began slowly and quietly climbing down the building walls, their eyes, or what he believed to be their eyes, fixed on him. He looked around quickly, trying to find an escape route, but they were coming from all directions, slowly slithering through the crowd silently, no one else noticing their presence.
He is not sure if it was fear that drove him, but he ran away. He was not sure where he was going, but he hoped it was far away from those things. Two were moving along the walls of the buildings, while the other two continued to slither around passersby. He saw a few others on the rooftops, but they did not start chasing him. He stopped in the middle of the road and peered around, noticing that the monsters were getting closer and appeared to be moving faster than they had at first.
He noticed an alleyway out of the corner of his eye. This could either get him killed or save his life. He is certain that these things have killed people based on the random stains of dried blood splatters on the ground. The sight made his stomach churn, but he couldn’t dwell on it for long as they got closer. With a deep breath, he took the leap of faith and ran into the alleyway.
He could not help but gag at the strong smell as he dashed into the alleyway, but what did he expect? There were dumpsters overflowing with trash and potholes full of filthy water that appeared to have been there for a long time. His senses were assaulted from all sides by the odors of rotting flesh and old urine. His footsteps echoed through the alleyway, which seemed to grow darker as he went. He didn't fear the dark, not since he'd gone blind.
Looking back was a huge mistake as he stumbled against his feet, barreling toward the filthy floor, much to his dismay, but that was the least of his worries. The best thing to do would have been to get back up and start running, but he was terrified and was unable to do so. The creatures approached him slowly and menacingly, almost like a predator pursuing its prey, and he watched, wide-eyed and terrified, realizing only now what a dire situation he was in. He knew nothing of their intentions, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t good.
Not yet; he doesn't want to die. He wants to explore the world again; he wants to figure out what is going on; he wants to know why the world lost its sight in the first place and why he regained it after five years; he wants to know if other people regained theirs; and he wants to know what these creatures are. But he was not sure he would be able to figure out any of this. But at the very least, he would die knowing what the world looked like now, and based on what he had seen, it almost seemed like a good thing the world had lost its sight, but what caused all of this to begin with?
He believes that those who proposed the alien theories were right because that is the only thing he can imagine them to be—what other animal or creature has a mouth full of tiny, razor-sharp teeth, skin that is gray-green in color, and multiple oval-shaped red holes that resemble eyes on its head? Or was it merely a different breed of dog? Normally, that thought would have made him laugh, but he was scared to death right now, so it would probably be funny if he survived and felt less terrified.
A hand grabbed his arm in an instant, pulling his stiff body upward; another clamped over his mouth, muffled his cry of surprise and fear. He was pulled into another alleyway, which was considerably smaller, where he was met with a sharp pair of eyes.
"You need to be quiet and follow me; we only have a short time before they catch up," the unknown male said, his voice hushed and hurried, gesturing down the path.
Hyunjin nodded jerkily, It wasn't like he had much of a choice about whether or not he went because of the grip the person had on his arm. The grip did not feel threatening or forceful, but it was either join the stranger or be killed by those things, even if the stranger was a murderer. It's better than dying at the hands of whatever those creatures are. He has not seen the unknown male's face yet because a black hood hides it, but he can tell the person was slightly shorter and more muscular than he is.
It was almost as if his brain had failed to keep up with his body, as he barely noticed being dragged through the pathway with urgency. He had to resist the urge to look back as he heard a low rumble followed by ticking noises he recognized as coming from those things.
He felt dizzy; the walls and floor seemed to twist slightly, and it was as if his lungs were not getting enough air to keep up with the running and everything else going on. He barely registered being yanked sharply into another, narrower pathway, causing him to move sideways.
The other male came to a halt as they entered another alleyway, which split into four different alleyways, giving it a small square-like shape and scanning it briefly.
“Get behind there and be very quiet,” The other said, motioning to a small opening in a wall where you would have to crouch behind a bunch of wooden crates while frantically looking around the small area, "And do not move unless I say so if you want to survive."
His legs felt weak and unsteady as he clambered into the small area. With trepidation, he watched as the unidentified male hurriedly pushed the crates in front of the room, giving him a final look before taking off. A few seconds later, the four things dashed around the corner, coming to a halt in the small space in front of the crates. Hyunjin's heart stopped for a moment, thinking the unidentified male left him there as a distraction so he could flee, but logically, the male could have simply left him there to die rather than pulling him in another direction and telling him to hide, risking his own life, but what if he was working with the things and this was a way to feed him to them? His mind ached from thinking about the possible outcomes, which he knew were nonsense.
One of the things leaned closer to where Hyunjin was, a low ticking sound leaving its mouth, echoing tauntingly in Hyunjin’s mind. Clutching his eyes shut, he clamped his hand over his mouth as though that would make the things go away. Deep down, he hoped it was just one of those realistic nightmares and that he would wake up soon. Something whistled loudly and continuously, drawing the things' attention as they streaked off in the direction of the noise.
The unknown male dashed back to where Hyunjin was pulling the crates, in front of the space, exclaiming, "Come on, we do not have much time before they catch on." When the whistling stopped, the male grabbed his hand and dragged him back through the alley they had come from.
They turned down a few more alleyways, walking quickly until they reached an iron door tucked away in the shadows of the alley between dilapidated wooden food crates. The male let go of his gripped arm and stepped towards the door, tugging it open with a low creak. He jerked his head, signaling Hyunjin to enter. He walked cautiously into the darkness that enveloped the room. He saw as the other entered, closed the door behind him, and reached for a light switch. The sudden light caused Hyunjin to squint a little as he looked around the room, which, judging by its layout, was actually a house. It had a small, open kitchen and living room, as far as he could tell, and three dark oak doors at the end of a short hallway. He was full of questions, but he did not know where to begin because they were all crashing into each other, leaving him in a confused mess.
“You can make yourself comfortable, you know,” The male said from the hallway, startling him, "I mean, sit on the couch or walk around a little bit; you have been standing there for a few minutes looking somewhere between passing out and constipated, and it is making me nervous."
Hyunjin blinked a few times before muttering a simple "oh," shifting from foot to foot and sitting down on the couch. He noticed a ginger cat with a white stomach and paws peering at him curiously from where it was perched on a shelf in the corner, before it hopped down and began rubbing itself on his legs while stretching; he is never been more grateful that he outgrew his cat allergy a few years ago, as he would have broken out in rashes and sneezing fits.
The other male returned to the living room and sat on the couch opposite Hyunjin. "I see you have met Soonie." He spoke while the cat lay on Hyunjin's feet, peering up at him and purring softly.
"I'm Minho. You can call me Lee Know; it doesn't matter" he said "I know you're scared and confused, but don't be afraid to ask anything," the man—Minho said, stroking the fur of another ginger cat, this one with more white than the one currently purring at Hyunjin's feet.
"It's nice to meet you, Minho. I'm Hyunjin…Thank you for saving me from those things," Hyunjin muttered, fidgeting with his fingers and darting around the room, never remaining in one place for more than five seconds.
"They're called Gagruns.” Minho explained, "They are an alien species that arrived here five years ago."
"Are they the cause of the blinding?" Hyunjin asks
Minho hummed "yes"
With fresh questions sprouting in his mind, Hyunjin cocked his head. "How so?"
"The Gagruns can't exactly see; they rely on thermal imaging, which allows them to see us since our bodies release electromagnetic radiation, and besides that, they use echolocation, which is those ticking noises you heard them omitting. So, in order to infiltrate Earth without wreaking havoc and making themselves known, they released this toxin into the air, which would impair our ability to see, even for those born after the blinding," Minho explained.
"How did we regain ours?"
A rare genotype known as Ga enables the body to fend off toxins and recover vision in those who carry it. I am not sure what it is, but I believe it is an alien genotype because they are resistant to the toxin."
Hyunjin let out a shaky breath as he took in all of the information. He understood everything but nothing from what he had heard so far. He was too exhausted and terrified to fully comprehend what had been said to him and what was going through his mind.
"Hyunjin, I will be honest with you; it is no longer safe for you to be out there, especially now that they are looking for you, and if they find you, they will kill you. You can stay here if you want, or you can return to your home; you do not have to decide right now; I will give you a few days because it will be a little safer for you to go outside then," Minho said seriously, staring directly into Hyunjin's eyes, which was a little intimidating in Hyunjin's option.
"Thank you," Hyunjin muttered.
Minho stood up, stretched slightly, and motioned for Hyunjin to follow him. "Come, I will show you the spare room and bathroom."
On shaky legs, Hyunjin stood up and followed Minho into the hallway. It was then that he took a good look around the place; he noticed a few weapons scattered on shelves and tables, the majority of which were knives; he also noticed a large number of cat toys and books piled up in a corner near a shelf.
He was directed to a door on the right side of the hallway.
"This is the spare room where you'll be staying. My room is the door opposite this one, and the bathroom is the door next to this one.” Minho said, opening the door with a faint creak on the hinges. "There are toiletries, clothes, and towels in the cabinet, and you can have a shower if you want."
Hyunjin looked around the room. It was a medium-sized room with a twin-sized bed, a small cupboard, and a desk; it was not much, but it felt strangely comfortable.
"Thanks again, Minho,"
"No problem….. I'm going to make dinner. When you are finished, you are welcome to join me." Minho spoke almost monotonously before turning around to return to the living room.
Hyunjin closed the door behind him and looked around the room.
The face staring back at him in the mirror, surrounded by shower steam, felt foreign; the baby fat was now replaced by sharp features. Of course, he knows that his face will change over the next five years, but it was still shocking. On the other hand, he can not fully recall how he looked prior to the blinding, just as he can not recall how many other things looked throughout his life. With a sigh, he brushed his fingers through his shoulder-length, dark brown hair before changing into the clothes in the cupboard. The thought of who they belonged to raced through his mind, but it was overshadowed by exhaustion, fear, and uncertainty.
Hyunjin took hesitant steps towards the kitchen. Even though Minho had explicitly stated that he could go to the kitchen once he finished his shower, he felt as if he was intruding.
"Did you have a good shower?" He heard Minho ask before turning the corner and seeing him.
"Uh, yeah, thanks," he muttered as he stood at the kitchen entrance. Minho cast a brief glance at him before returning his attention to the pot he was stirring.
"As I said, you can make yourself comfortable; you are safe here, and I have no intention of hurting you."
Hyunjin hesitantly entered the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools. An awkward aura hung heavy in the air, nearly suffocating Hyunjin. Or was it only him? Minho appeared to be perfectly fine and content in his spot by the stove.
"So Hyunjin," Minho said, turning to face Hyunjin and interrupting his train of thought. “How old are you?” To Minho, he appeared to be in his early twenties, and possibly younger.
"Twenty-two," Hyunjin said, taking his gaze away from the wooden surface of the countertop and meeting Minho's sharp, cat-like eyes. Minho hummed and nodded.
"I am twenty-four, and you do not have to call me Hyung; it is up to you."
Dinner passed slowly, and by the end, Hyunjin felt a little less awkward. Minho had taken it upon himself to ask simple questions in order to get to know Hyunjin better and relieve tension, allowing Hyunjin to get to know him better.
Hyunjin excused himself to rest as exhaustion began to set in. The world as he knew it was no longer the same; humans were no longer considered the most dominant species in the food chain, and to him, from what he's learned from Minho so far, it was almost as if they were living in a simulation of some sort, or rather, like animals in a pen, kept and harvested as food, or simply brutally murdered.