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The attack began without warning.
One moment the open base was quiet, the next moment the sky tore open. A black fissure split across the air above the base, and black, gooey monsters poured out of it.
Dozens - no, hundreds of them.
Their screeches crashed over the base like a tidal wave as the creatures slammed into the ground and immediately surged forward.
Kim Dokja swore. “Everyone-!”
The warning barely left his mouth before the first monster lunged.
Unbreakable faith carved upward through the creature’s jaw, splitting its skull before it could reach him. Its corpse hit the ground with a wet thud.
Another one leapt over it immediately.
“Are you kidding me?!” shouted Jung Heewon, her blade igniting in a burst of crimson flame. She swung hard, the firestorm tearing a burning trench straight through the advancing swarm. It barely slowed them.
“Formation!” barked Yoo Joonghyuk.
His sword cut through three monsters in a single motion before they even reached the inner perimeter. Blood splattered across the ground as he stepped forward, placing himself directly in the swarm’s path.
Behind him, Lee Hyunsung slammed his shield down. The impact rang like a bell as the first wave crashed against it.
“Gilyoung! Yoosung!” Hyunsung shouted.
“Got it!” yelled Lee Gilyoung, already raising his hand. A swarm of insects erupted forward, flooding over the closest monsters and slowing their advance.
Beside him, Shin Yoosung clenched her fists as beasts from the surrounding area surged forward to meet the invading swarm. For a brief moment the battlefield stabilized.
Then the second wave arrived. The ground shook as another mass of monsters poured through the rift.
“More?!” shouted Lee Jihye, beside a struggling Sangah, slashing through one creature before ducking under another’s claws. “This is ridiculous!”
Illusory blades rained down beside her as Han Sooyoung snapped irritably.
“Hey, idiot!” she yelled. “Care to explain why our house just turned into a monster buffet?!”
Kim Dokja didn’t answer. He was already cutting through another cluster of creatures, his white coat snapping behind him as he stepped forward into the swarm.
Something was wrong. This wasn’t a normal scenario. A translucent system window suddenly burst open in front of him.
[Emergency Sub-Scenario has been generated.
Remaining Time to clear the scenario: 00:05:48]
Kim Dokja’s eyes narrowed. Generated? Also, it was timed?!
Another monster lunged at him. Dokja twisted sideways, his blade driving straight through its throat.
“Bihyung!” he called.
Above him, a familiar dokkaebi appeared with a panicked pop.
“Hey - hey - hey!” squeaked Bihyung. “Don’t look at me like that!”
Kim Dokja slashed another monster in half.
“I didn’t do anything!” Bihyung flailed his arms. “The bureau flagged this as a system error!”
Kim Dokja scoffed. He drove his sword upward through another monster's ribs before kicking the corpse aside.
Bihyung looked equally terrified. “I’m telling you, I didn’t schedule this! Upper management must have-”
A scream cut him off. Hyunsung staggered as a monster slammed into his shield hard enough to crack the metal.
“I’m okay!” he shouted quickly when Heewon glanced back. But his stance had already weakened.
[Probability required to correct the course of the scenario: 13% completed.]
Dokja's brows furrowed. Normally, their constellation sponsors would already be interfering. His eyes searched the constellation channel.
The familiar presences hovered in the sky like distant stars.
[Constellation ‘Demon Like Judge of Fire’ is attempting to provide probability.]
[Probability transfer has been restricted.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is attempting intervention.]
[Probability transfer has been restricted.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is enraged.]
[Constellation Secretive Plotter is frowning.]
It wasn’t that every constellation was unable to offer support.
[Probability required to correct the course of the scenario: 27% completed. ]
Only the loyal group of constellations were unable to offer probability. Kim Dokja’s expression hardened. Someone had deliberately blocked their regular sponsors.
Which meant-
Someone wanted them dead.
Another monster slammed into him. Dokja ducked under its claws and drove his blade straight through its skull. But as the body fell, he saw something that made his stomach drop.
A third wave, even larger than before was approaching.
“Ajusshi!” shouted Jihye. Her voice carried a note of real alarm. Kim Dokja glanced up.
[Emergency Sub-Scenario
Remaining Time: 00:02:48]
His eyes widened slightly. Two minutes. That was nowhere near enough.
Kim Dokja flipped through millions of pages in record speed. There must be something, anything-
A new message appeared.
[An Anonymous constellation is offering probability support.]
Kim Dokja froze. Then resumed his task. This was not the time to give attention to random constellations.
[Anonymous constellation has offered probability.]
[Probability required to correct the course of the scenario: 45% completed.]
That made Kim Dokja pause. This constellation was the real deal. If he could somehow make them bear the probability-
[Anonymous constellation is proposing a contract.]
The battlefield roared around him. Kim Dokja opened the message.
[If Constellation Demon King of Salvation accepts this proposal, the anonymous Constellation will bear the probability required to eliminate the invading swarm.]
[In exchange, the Constellation must fulfill one request.]
He frowned. An anonymous constellation with an unknown request. That was practically begging for trouble. What were the stakes? What did they want? What did they-
Then Jihye shouted again. "Ajusshi!" A monster the size of a truck burst through the swarm, charging straight toward him.
The timer ticked down.
[Remaining time: 00:02:01]
Kim Dokja clenched his teeth. “…Damn it.”
In that one moment of weakness, out of utmost desperation, he accepted the contract.
[Anonymous constellation has provided probability!]
[Probability required to correct the course of the scenario: 100% completed]
A crushing wave of probability slammed down onto the battlefield. The monsters froze, then slowly, they disintegrated. Hundreds of bodies collapsed into ash as the swarm was erased in seconds.
Everyone took a breath of relief. Heewon dropped to one knee. “Holy hell… we lived.”
Yoo Joonghyuk was the only one looking at Kim Dokja, his immaculate brows furrowed in concern.
"Kim Dokja, what did you do?"
"Uh.."
Before he could answer, another message appeared before him.
[The anonymous constellation is delighted.]
Kim Dokja’s stomach dropped. A cold premonition bloomed in his guts.
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders has revealed their identity.]
High above the battlefield, a familiar trickster voice laughed.
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders greets his new contractor.]
Oh.
Oh shit.
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders is sure that Constellation Demon King of Salvation knows what they want.]
"Wait a minute please, let's negotiat-"
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders is invoking the clause of the agreement.]
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders reassures that it's only for a few days]
Before light enveloped him whole and blinded him, he registered two things.
One: “Kim Dokja!” Yoo Joonghyuk’s panicked voice. Other voices followed, all shouting his name at once, along with alarmed pings from beyond the sky.
Two: whatever the fuck his skill was doing.
[The Fourth Wall raises an interested brow.]
[The Fourth Wall is snickering suspiciously.]
[Th is i s goi ng t o b e f un.]
[The Fourth Wall has temporarily disabled several functions.]
[The Fourth Wall says: Lol.]
[The Fourth Wall says: Lmao.]
Everything was white for a moment. The light did not disappear all at once. It receded slowly, not unlike fog lifting from the surface of water.
When Kim Dokja finally managed to blink the last of it from his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the weight on his chest. It was impossible to ignore. His shirt clung uncomfortably to his chest, the fabric suddenly far tighter than it had any right to be, and the pressure made it difficult to breathe evenly.
The sensation shifted slightly when he breathed, and the movement alone was enough to send a cold wave of realization creeping up his spine. At the same time, something about the rest of his body felt subtly wrong. His hips felt wider than before, his stance a little different, the ground seeming marginally closer than it should have been, as if he had lost a few centimeters of height without noticing.
Then there was his hair. When he instinctively lifted a hand to brush it away from his face, his fingers sank into far more of it than he had expected. Long black strands slid forward over his shoulders and spilled across his chest, as they continued downward. Down past where his hair had ever reached before. When he gathered the ends of it in his hand and looked down, it hung nearly to his abdomen.
For a moment he simply stared at it, his mind refusing to assemble the pieces into something coherent. A thin thread of panic began to tighten in his chest as the realization slowly crept closer.
Kim Dokja was panicking. He was very much panicking.
[The Fourth Wall is snickering.]
[The Fourth Wall has absorbed some of your shock.]
The notification flickered through his mind with unhelpful cheerfulness while his body continued to betray him. When he shifted his weight, the change in balance became obvious. His center of gravity had moved. The simple act of adjusting his stance felt awkward and unfamiliar, like trying to walk in someone else’s body. Then another horrible thought crept in,
Something was missing.
Kim Dokja went perfectly still.
With the dreadful reluctance of someone who already knew the answer, he became aware of the empty space in his pants where something extremely important should have been.
“Ah.”
The sound escaped him before he could stop it.
Kim Dokja immediately squeaked at the sound of his own voice. It was wrong; soft and high and light that it made his stomach drop. It was unmistakably not the voice he had been using for the past twenty-eight years. The unfamiliar tone echoed faintly in the sudden silence around him, and for a moment he could only stand there, frozen, his mind struggling to reconcile everything his body was telling him.
This could not be happening.
Kim Dokja felt a powerful and immediate desire to die. He was panicking, and the worst part was that he was increasingly certain that the situation he was panicking about was completely real.
“Ajusshi?”
Yoosung’s small voice cut through the ringing silence. That was when Kim Dokja became aware of the spectators.
This had happened in broad daylight. In the middle of their base. In front of everyone.
Right.
Kim Dokja briefly considered digging a cave and sealing himself inside it with a boulder, permanently.
When he finally looked up, the sight waiting for him did not improve matters.
They were all staring, slack-jawed and red-faced, frozen mid-movement as if they'd collectively forgotten how breathing worked. The base was so quiet that Kim Dokja could hear the wind moving through broken scaffolding somewhere behind them.
Someone, he begged silently, please say something.
Dokja cleared his? her? throat. “I can explain-”
A playful whistle interrupted his attempt at pacification. Jung Heewon had one hand on her hip and the other cupped around her mouth, looking Kim Dokja up and down with an expression usually reserved for shirtless actors in low-budget dramas.
Lee Hyunsung made a strangled noise. The large soldier turned violently red from the tips of his ears to the collar of his armor and immediately dropped his gaze to the ground, suddenly very invested in the geological composition of the dirt beneath his boots.
“Why does hyung have boobs?" Gilyoung asked, his head tilted in confusion.
Kim Dokja wished the ground would open and swallow him.
Shin Yoosung smacked the back of Gilyoung's head.
“Don’t say it like that!”
“But he does!”
Off to the side, Lee Jihye finally rebooted. Her head snapped back and forth between Kim Dokja’s face and the rest of his body like a malfunctioning surveillance camera.
“Wha- what the fuck?!”
She pointed at him. Then at the sky. Then back at him again. “Did someone body-swap ajusshi?! Is this some kind of scam artifact?!”
“It’s still me, Jihye,” Kim Dokja said weakly.
“THEN WHY ARE YOU A GODDESS?! WHERE IS YOUR UGLY MUG?!”
Kim Dokja sputtered.
“This apocalypse keeps getting weirder.” Jung Heewon commented, shaking her head. Kim Dokja painfully agreed with the sentiment.
“Ajusshi!” Yoosung had already bounced closer, eyes shining. “Ajusshi, can I call you unni?”
Gilyoung perked up beside her. “Yeah! I wanna call you noona!”
Kim Dokja blinked down at them, momentarily disarmed by the enthusiasm.
“Not going to call me Ajumma?” He laughed. He heard several hitched breaths. Weird.
“Well… you’re too pretty for that.” Came Gilyoung's answer. Kim Dokja’s chest warmed. At least one of them thinks so. But before he could celebrate, Gilyoung helpfully added, “And you look way younger than before.”
Kim Dokja choked. “What is that supposed to mean?!”
Kim Dokja became abruptly, horrifyingly aware of his body. What was he supposed to do with his hands? His arms hovered awkwardly at his sides.
Should he cross them? No, crossing them made the situation… worse. He tried putting them on his hips. Now that felt aggressive. Also worse.
Kim Dokja returned them helplessly to his sides. He had never felt so alien inside his own skin.
Kim Dokja, you can get through this. He told himself. He just feels a little disoriented, he just needs a little time.
At least, the witch is not poking fun at his predicament.
Huh.
The witch is not poking fun at him. That was absurd - unless a chunk of his body part is missing, Sooyoung wouldn't stop at making his life harder.
His eyes drifted slowly toward Han Sooyoung.
Han Sooyoung, who was staring at him.
The moment their eyes met, she jerked her gaze away like she had touched a live wire. Her face was extremely red.
Kim Dokja frowned faintly. Is she sick?
Beside her, Yoo Sangah was even stranger. She had not blinked in a concerning amount of time. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and her hands were clasped tightly together like she was trying very hard to remain composed.
Kim Dokja felt vaguely concerned. Then he froze.
Another set of eyes were staring at him. Kim Dokja didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to. He did not intend to look anytime soon either.
Yoo Joonghyuk's gaze burned. It was so intense, as if he could sear a hole through just by his gaze. Kim Dokja stared very hard at the ground. His ears felt hot.
What was the regressor thinking? Kim Dokja wanted to know. Is he too weirded out by this?
Kim Dokja considered digging that cave again. The idea was becoming increasingly attractive.
To make matters worse, the sky fucking exploded.
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire has dropped her spear.]
[The constellation Prisoner of the Golden Headband bursts into uncontrollable laughter.]
[Several constellations have joined the channel.]
[Several constellations are screaming.]
[Several constellations are asking if this is a new scenario.]
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire demands an explanation.]
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire says her OTP has been tampered with.]
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire rushes to assure that Constellation Demon King of Salvation looks the prettiest.]
[The constellation Prisoner of the Golden Headband says this is far more entertaining.]
[The constellation Prisoner of the Golden Headband asks if the incarnation Kim Dokja is currently single.]
[The constellation Abyssal Black Flame Dragon insists he is not flustered.]
[The constellation Abyssal Black Flame Dragon says this form is irrelevant.]
[The constellation Abyssal Black Flame Dragon has sponsored 500 coins.]
[The constellation Abyssal Black Flame Dragon says this was accidental.]
[The constellation Queen of Darkest Spring is clapping her hands with delight.]
[The constellation Secretive Plotter is observing the incarnation Kim Dokja.]
[The constellation Secretive Plotter is considering descending down to the mortal realm.]
The last message sent a shiver down Dokja's spine. He knew that if the mysterious Plotter decided something, he will see to it.
What is with these reactions anyway? Can he not have a mental breakdown in peace? Dokja despaired.
"Dokja-sshi," Yoo Sangah started. "Maybe we should find you some undergarments-"
[The constellation Queen of the Darkest Spring says that there is no need.]
[The constellation Queen of the Darkest Spring has sponsored an item.]
Probability curls around Dokja's body once again. The fabric of his coat dissolved into drifting motes before reforming into something new.
When the light faded, Kim Dokja was standing there in a white qipao.
The high collar framed his throat, the silk falling smoothly along his form before splitting in a subtle side slit that allowed movement. Silver embroidery traced delicate patterns along the fabric like frost. Beneath the slit, dark garter straps hugged his thigh, disappearing into the silk above.
Kim Dokja took a moment to examine himself, and promptly wanted the swarm of monsters to come back and finish the job.
While Kim Dokja busied himself with the increasingly urgent task of not dying of embarrassment, the rest of the base was fighting an entirely different battle.
From the outside, the transformation was devastating.
The long black hair falling over his shoulders caught the light like ink spilled across silk. The high collar framed a pale throat that seemed far too delicate for the apocalypse they lived in, while the qipao followed the curve of his body with lethal elegance.
His lashes were long enough to cast faint shadows across his cheeks. When he blinked, his eyes looked almost impossibly bright, dark irises glittering with that familiar star-filled depth that had always made it hard to look away.
The shape of his waist, the subtle curve of his hips, the smooth fall of silk along his legs - everything about the form looked impossibly balanced, like someone had carved a goddess out of moonlight and dropped her into the middle of a ruined world.
“I cannot do this anymore,” Han Sooyoung said hoarsely. Her hands came up and covered her face.
Lee Jihye blurted, “Holy fuck, ajusshi, you’re even smaller than me.”
Jung Heewon leaned sideways toward Lee Hyunsung, her voice suspiciously cheerful. “Hyunsung-ssi,” she murmured, “looks like Dokja-ssi finally got his favorite dress.”
“H-Heewon-ssi…” Lee Hyungsung choked.
Kim Dokja heard every word. Unfortunately, he could not deny any of it.
Because the worst part, the absolute worst part, was that they were not entirely wrong.
The silk felt light and cool on his skin, almost weightless. The fabric moved when he moved, sliding softly along his body in a way that felt… strangely natural.
And the garter belt-
Kim Dokja was not thinking about the garter belt hugging his thigh. Nuh uh.
[The Fourth Wall is snickering.]
Well, fuck you too, Kim Dokja viciously thought.
Because the truth was complicated. Yes, he was mortified. Yes, he wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground.
But underneath the embarrassment, beneath the catastrophic situation he had accidentally created, there was also something else.
The qipao made him feel… striking. Pretty.
Powerful even.
He would rather die than admit this out loud. But the smallest corner of his lips began to lift anyway, when-
[Several constellations are requesting close-up views.]
[The constellation Predator of the Night Market asks if the incarnation accepts private sponsorship.]
[Constellation Demon King of Lust and Wrath is licking their lips.]
[Several constellations are commenting on the incarnation’s body.]
[Several constellations are proposing contracts.]
[Constellation Father of the Richest Night has raised his sword.]
[Several constellations have gone silent.]
The skin at the back of Kim Dokja’s neck prickled.
No. It was worse than that.
It felt like thousands of unseen fingers dragging across his body, peeling apart the layers of silk and skin and bone until there was nothing left but something exposed and raw.
His stomach turned. Just a moment ago, he had been quietly fascinated with the way the qipao felt against his skin. The strange sense that maybe, just maybe, he looked a little beautiful. Now the thought alone made him feel sick.
Kim Dokja suddenly wished he could crawl out of his own skin.
[The Fourth Wall is alarmed.]
[The Fourth Wall is attempting to stabilize the your mental state.]
His breathing had grown uneven before he even noticed.
He didn’t want to stand here anymore. He didn’t want anyone looking at him anymore.
He didn’t want-
A warm black coat settled over his shoulders.
It swallowed the silk and garter straps in an instant, hiding the pale lines of his body beneath thick dark fabric.
“Let’s get inside.” A calm voice whispered in his ear.
For the first time since the transformation, Kim Dokja looked at Yoo Joonghyuk.
Joonghyuk wasn’t looking at him, but at the sky. His jaw was clenched tight enough to show the line of muscle beneath his cheek, and his gaze was fixed toward the place where the constellation messages were appearing.
Kim Dokja felt the tight knot in his chest loosen just a little. Strangely enough, standing beside Yoo Joonghyuk like this made the invisible pressure of the Star Stream feel… lighter.
Safer.
Dokja understands - sometimes you need to repeat what you said a few times for everyone to get it. Attention is a hard currency to earn. But the problem is not the lack of attention, no, it's something else. He cannot count how many 'Sorry, what were you saying?' he's heard since the beginning of this cursed scenario.
Han Sooyoung still trips over her own words while trying to insult him. Jihye hasn't yet learned to close her mouth when she's around him. Heewon has a proud look in her eyes as if she herself had birthed him into earth. And Lee Hyungsung hasn't once made eye contact with him. Once.
He gets it, though. Afterall, seeing a companion shift their gender all of a sudden must be jarring for them.
[Ki m Do k ja i s an idi ot ]
Kim Dokja sneered inwardly at his skill. He knows the fucker had done some alakazam while changing his form, he's sure of it.
Or else, why would his companions refuse to be normal around him?
The most normal one though, was surprisingly Yoo Joonghyuk. He was still his asshole brisk self, and an absolute pain in the ass.
But he too, stared. Intently; intensely.
From the moment the change happened, Yoo Joonghyuk hasn't stopped staring at his face at any given moment, as if he was hastily, greedily memorising his features, seering the shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips into his retinas.
It made Kim Dokja squirm in his place, made him tuck his hair behind his ears, embarrassment coursing through his veins.
It also made him extremely self conscious - every time he felt that gaze, all the progress he accumulated on adjusting into the new form vaporizes and leaves him bereft. Suddenly he's too short. Suddenly his arms are too thin. Suddenly his chest feels heavier, it's too big. No, it's too small. Is it?
He's Yoo Joonghyuk's companion. Someone who stands beside the protagonist. He has to be good at everything while looking good as well. This is not a fresh dilemma, he had been dealing with it since he first cockily asked Yoo Joonghyuk to make him his companion with half a breath choked out of him.
But he had invested in his body since then. Coin amped muscles and a strong frame replaced his frail malnourished body. Still, he got called ugly by everything that breathed. He laughed along, burying his hurt and anxieties far beneath the skin of his mind.
He had somewhat accepted the role of being the ugly companion of Yoo Joonghyuk. But now, he's in a new form; he has to start from the scratch. It's disorienting. And a damn hassle.
He couldn't help but compare himself to Lee Seolhwa. Compared to her talent, beauty and strength, what was he?
He doesn't know why he keeps comparing himself with her. It's not like he's going to be in this form forever to feel this threatened.
It's not like Yoo Joonghyuk would see him like he sees her.
His body itched. He wants to skin himself and hide in a corner. He wants his old body back.
Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the presence beside him.
"....Kim Dokja."
Dokja squeaked, jumping out of his skin. He adjusted his white coat tighter, "You scared the shit out of me, you bastard!"
"You should be more mindful of your surroundings."
"Yeah, yeah." Dokja waved dismissively. "Why are you here?"
Yoo Joonghyuk paused. And then turned to look at him. Again with that intense stare.
".... You've been avoiding me." He said, after a while.
Had he? While trying to not dissolve into his insecurities, had he unknowingly avoided Joonghyuk?
"You're imagining things." He still countered, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. "Anyways, now that you're here, we should talk about the next scenar-"
"Kim Dokja," Yoo Joonghyuk said harshly, "Don't try to deflect."
"Wha- I'm not!" He said, affronted. Yoo Joonghyuk simply raised an eyebrow in reply, which further aggravated him. He glared at the regressor with all his might, only to be met with that same calm, yet intense stare. At last, Dokja sighed, defeated as always infront of the protagonist. "It's... it's nothing."
"I will decide whether it's nothing or not." Yoo Joonghyuk curtly replied.
"You!" This was the man he worshiped all his life? What an asshole. "Is this how you talk to ladies? Where is the respect? Where are your damn manners huh? No wonder you are-"
"Kim Dokja, tell me what's bothering you." Yoo Joonghyuk demanded. He sounded like he cared - which was too out of character for Joonghyuk. Dokja was equally touched and unnerved.
Yoo Joonghyuk continued staring. Why was this bastard so persistent?
Kim Dokja groaned and clicked his tongue. "I.. I don't feel right in my body, I guess." He admitted pathetically, letting out a rueful smile.
A suffocating silence ensued. Kim Dokja kept his gaze to the ground.
"..And?"
Kim Dokja gritted his teeth. "And what? What else do you want me to say?"
Again returned that odd silence.
Then, "Kim Dokja, close your eyes."
Dokja looked up at that. He began to protest, but Joonghyuk cut him off with a single glare. Dokja obeyed, grumbling all the way.
[Constellation Demon like judge of fire is screaming.]
[Constellation Demon like judge of fire is saying that the balance have now been restored.]
That was the sound of incoming notifications on the channel. What made them so excited? What was happening-
"..You can open them." A female voice echoed from where his companion should've stood. Dokja obeyed the voice nonetheless. And at once, his world collapsed.
Because standing before him, was the most beautiful woman he had ever had the fortune of laying his eyes upon. And also the woman he had come across once before.
Punisher.
Long hair, graceful curves, captivating eyes. Just as he remembered.
Kim Dokja's brain still refused to connect the dots. But even to his selective dumbassary, it was clear as day-
Yoo Joonghyuk was Punisher. Punisher was Yoo Joonghyuk.
[Ki m Do k ja i s an idi ot]
Kim Dokja acquiesced this time. Because of course Punisher is Yoo Joonghyuk. That kind of beauty can only be achieved by the protagonist.
The pings increased. Coins rained down into their channel. Kim Dokja was too busy gaping to count.
"You've met me before once. No need to be this surprised." Punish- Yoo Joonghyuk said.
"...When?" Kim Dokja asked, voice cracking.
"Asmodeus." That's all he provided. Dokja nodded in understanding. So that's how he escaped. He had thought Joonghyuk's sponsor had helped him all this time.
Kim Dokja truly took to looking at Yoo Joonghyuk. Unlike himself, Joonghyuk didn't shy away from his inquisitive gaze, he let him inspect all he wanted, patiently waiting with his arms folded.
He seemed accustomed to this form.
Unlike Dokja.
But before Dokja could run down the rabbit hole of his own incapabilities, he noticed a tick in Joonghyuk's jaw. It was a tell, something Dokja knew intimately.
Joonghyuk did that when he was uncomfortable.
Beneath the cool exterior and brave face, Joonghyuk was unsettled. Dokja noticed more - the way he was shifting from one foot to another, the way his breath was a little too regulated, the way his hands were clenching and unclenching into fists.
Dokja remembered Punisher running away from him the first time they met. He remembered all the plausible times Joonghyuk must have used this form, but conveniently avoided his eyes. He clearly did not want him to see him in this form.
Despite all that, he still decided to reveal himself to Dokja.
"Why?" Dokja asked outloud. "Why did you show me now?"
"Kim Dokja," Yoo Joonghyuk said, "You're my companion."
Kim Dokja's eyebrows sank in confusion. What was the bastard getting at?
Yoo Joonghyuk clicked his tongue in irritation as Kim Dokja looked clueless by the minute. "You said you were uncomfortable." He looked away, his earlobes tinged red, "Now you don't have to be uncomfortable alone."
Kim Dokja's eyes widened. A similar hue of red coated his cheeks as he looked down at his feet, his hair curtaining his flaming face.
All his earlier worries of not being enough for the title of Yoo Joonghyuk's companion vaporised from his mind. It did not vanish completely - he knew such thoughts would come back to haunt him again in the future. But for now, in this cherished moment, he felt worthy, he felt proud, he felt enough.
He looked to his right, seeking Joonghyuk's silent form.
"Hey," He called. Joonghyuk looked back.
"You are quite beautiful in this form, did you know that?"
Joonghyuk's obsidian eyes widened. The red hue darkened. Kim Dokja laughed softly. Joonghyuk looked away, suddenly finding the horizon interesting.
"....You too." His voice mumbled after a while.
"What did you say?"
"Kim Dokja!"
Dokja threw his head back and laughed and Yoo Joonghyuk's flustered ire dissolved in that melodious ring into nothing.
Womanhood, Dokja realized, is very hard to navigate.
Example number 1:
The garment currently strangling his ribs.
Kim Dokja stood in the small room staring down at himself with the deep concentration of a man trying to decipher an unfamiliar scenario window.
The problem was the bra. He poked at the strap experimentally.
“…Why do you exist?”
The bra, unfortunately, did not respond.
He attempted to remove it. This resulted in ten minutes of increasingly complicated arm contortions and a brief moment where he nearly dislocated his shoulder. Finally he managed to unhook it.
The sudden relief was euphoric. Dokja stared at the offending object in his hands. After a moment of thought, he carefully placed it on the table like a suspicious artifact.
“Women willingly wear this,” he despaired.
.
.
.
Example number 2:
Kim Dokja had been fighting his hair for twenty minutes. It was humiliating.
He had survived scenarios, constellations, and eldritch disasters, but apparently long hair was where the universe drew the line.
After taking forty goddamn minutes to dry, now it presented another problem. Whenever he moved, it would get in the way, covering his vision and getting in his mouth. It became unbearable.
He tried tying it back. The hair slipped loose. He tried again. It slipped again.
Kim Dokja stared at his reflection. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Behind him, a small voice spoke. “Ajusshi?”
Shin Yoosung, who had decided not to confuse herself with other names, was watching him with bright curiosity.
“Your hair looks messy.”
“…I know.”
“Do you want help?”
Five minutes later he was sitting on a crate while Yoosung stood on another behind him. Her small fingers carefully separated the strands of his hair. Dokja sat very still.
“…What exactly are you doing?”
“I’m braiding it,” Yoosung said proudly. Dokja glanced sideways to see Lee Gilyoung watching with interest.
“I’ve seen the aunties do it,” Yoosung continued seriously. “It keeps hair out of your face.” Her fingers moved with surprising confidence. Dokja blinked as the strands were neatly gathered and woven together.
It felt… oddly comforting.
A few minutes later, Yoosung stepped back. “All done!”
Dokja reached up cautiously. His fingers brushed against a smooth, tight braid resting against his back.
"Yoosung, you're a genius."
Yoosung’s face lit up like she had just been promoted. "It was easy." She sniffed proudly.
Not to be outdone, Gilyoung leaned closer. “Wait, you need this.”
He produced a hairband from somewhere mysterious and secured the end of the braid.
Dokja stared at him. “…Where did you get that?”
Gilyoung avoided eye contact. “...The battlefield.”
Dokja quietly thanked him, deciding not to investigate further.
Unfortunately, the entire base - who had been trying very hard to act normal around Dokja, immediately regressed a thousand years in their progress when he showed up in braids.
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Example number 3:
After the whole fiasco with his braided hair, Dokja found himself dragged by his hands to somewhere sacred - the makeshift vanity room they had in the complex. He felt like he’d somehow scored VIP access to a high-end event; or been drafted into a cult.
"Am I really allowed here?" He asked, still unsure.
"You have a vagina now, so why the fuck not?" Han Sooyoung answered, opening the door to the room he'd never seen before.
"Wow.." He exclaimed, despite himself. The mirrors, though filled with old cracks, were polished to a clear shine. The counters were neatly arranged; brushes cleaned and aligned, bottles sorted and every item were placed where it belonged. A few bulbs had been replaced. Nothing here was extravagant, nothing was wasted, but everything was maintained. It was functional, intentional and alive, kept that way by women who refused to let even something as small as this fall into neglect.
Heewon tugged on his arms and sat him on the chair in front of the mirror. Yoo Sangah was already on her way with a kit in her hand, and Kim Dokja watched as she carefully placed them on the table in front of him.
"Why am I here?" He asked warily.
"We," Han Sooyoung said as she sauntered in front of him, clapping both his shoulders hard, "are going to give you a makeover."
Kim Dokja silently began to stand up and run. Han Sooyoung clamped down on his shoulders, making him sit down again. Kim Dokja sighed despondently.
"Why."
"Because." And that's all Heewon provided.
"Am I late?" Lee Seolhwa asked, closing the door behind her.
"No you're not unni, we're just getting started!" Jihye said from her perch on the bean bag, Shin Yoosung nodding along to it from one adjacent to it.
"Actually, it's Yoosung-ie's idea, so you better co-operate." Heewon added, sealing his fate. Kim Dokja turned to Yoosung, who ducked her head shyly. "You'll like it, Ajusshi, I promise."
Well. Can't disappoint his incarnation now, can he?
Yoo Sangah had already opened the makeup kit, spreading its contents on the table.
"Wait,” Kim Dokja asked, picking up a bottle and turning it over, “Why do you even have all this? We’re in an apocalypse.”
Jung Heewon didn’t even look up from rummaging through a pouch. “The sky is basically a Twitch live chat,” she said flatly. “What do you think?”
Lee Seolhwa hummed in agreement as she uncapped a bottle. “Not only do we have to fight for our lives, we have to look good while fighting for our lives. Otherwise, do you think we’ll get enough engagement?”
[Some Constellations are embarrassed.]
“Speak for yourself,” Han Sooyoung muttered, leaning in to squint at Dokja’s face. “You didn’t have to worry about that with your ugly-”
She stopped. Kim Dokja blinked at her, wide-eyed and completely unaware. “…face,” she finished weakly.
“…Fuck,” she snapped, dragging a hand down her face. “I can’t even use that insult anymore.”
Jihye burst out laughing. Even Yoosung giggled into her sleeve.
"What are you-"
“Your skin condition is excellent,” Seolhwa said suddenly, turning his face toward the light like she was assessing a particularly interesting specimen.
“Why is your skin like this?” Lee Jihye demanded suddenly, leaning in far too close.
“…Like what?”
“Unfair,” she said. “It’s unfair.”
“He doesn’t do anything,” Han Sooyoung added. “I’ve seen his routine. It’s basically negligence.”
“That’s because of a skill,” Dokja replied glaring at Sooyoung, “Moisturizing skill, It reduces dryness. ”
Seolhwa’s eyes lit up. “A skill? Hmm.”
"Yeah! I can get them for you-"
“Sit still, Dokja-ssi,” It was Yoo Sangah who gently interrupted him now, guiding him into place. Kim Dokja obeyed before his brain could catch up. Her fingers were light as they tilted his chin, her gaze soft but intent as she studied his face.
“…Your skin is very nice,” she said quietly.
“…It is?”
“And your eyes,” she added, brushing just beneath one with careful precision, “they’re very pretty.”
Kim Dokja blinked again.
“And your lips-”
“Alright!” Han Sooyoung cut in. “That’s enough. We get it, he has a face.”
Yoo Sangah laughed softly, but didn’t disagree. Kim Dokja made a keening voice.
“Now shut up and let us work.” Jung Heewon cracked her knuckles.
.
.
[Constellation Queen of Darkest Spring says the incarnation requires more blush.]
[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire vehemently disagrees and demands restraint.]
[Constellation Queen of Darkest Spring insists on a softer flush.]
[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire says she will personally descend if the balance is ruined.]
And just like that, the room settled into a rhythm. Jihye was complaining about some guy she’d nearly stabbed last week. Heewon was adding commentary that somehow made it worse. Yoosung kept chiming in with wide-eyed questions that derailed the conversation every five minutes. Seolhwa would occasionally correct someone with the calm of a surgeon, and Sangah… Sangah just laughed softly threading it all together.
There was an ease to them, a familiarity in the way affection passed between the women. They were unguarded here, looser with their words, freer in their laughter, and carefree in a way he had never seen before. Kim Dokja hadn’t realized how much of that ease came from simply being among themselves. He hadn’t known a place like this could exist; this ease, this solidarity, this kind of comfort. It truly was a whole new world for him.
At first, Dokja sat stiffly, unsure where to look, what to say, what to do with his hands. Then-
“Ajusshi, you try!” Yoosung suddenly declared, shoving an eyeliner pencil into his hand.
“Wait-no, I-”
Too late.
He found himself leaning in, one hand awkwardly bracing Yoosung’s cheek while the other attempted to draw a straight line.
The line wobbled. Then it dived. There was a moment of silence as they both stared at the result.
“…We can fix that.” Kim Dokja said, letting out a shaky breath.
Yoosung squinted into the mirror. “…I look like a villain.”
Jihye snorted. Heewon burst out laughing. Even Seolhwa laughed and Sooyoung nearly fell off her seat.
Kim Dokja stared at the eyeliner, then at Yoosung, then buried his face in his hands. “I’m never touching this again.”
“No, no,” Sangah said quickly, still smiling as she gently took the pencil from him. “Let me fix it.”
After fixing his abstract art (abomination) on Yoosung's eyelids, Sangah stepped in front of him, tilting his chin up the same way she had before.
“Close your eyes,” she said softly. He did.
Her touch was light. A brush here, a careful line there. When she pulled back, there was a small, collective pause.
“…Oh,” Jihye said.
“…Wow,” Heewon added.
Even Han Sooyoung didn’t have a snarky comment ready, which was frankly terrifying.
Kim Dokja opened his eyes. The mirror stared back. For a second, he didn’t recognize the person looking at him.
[Constellation Queen of darkest springs is declaring that she has the prettiest son in existence.]
[Constellation Demon like judge of fire is wiping a proud tear.]
He saw the proud gazes of the women standing behind him through the mirror. He smiled at them. They smiled back.
Then, the room buzzed back to life.
“Okay, my turn next-”
“No, you always hog the mirror-”
“Unni, can I have sparkles?”
“Absolutely not.”
Kim Dokja found himself laughing before he even realized it.
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Example number 4:
Kim Dokja hadn’t noticed at first. It was Lee Seolhwa who noticed.
With the professionalism of a doctor who had seen much worse, she quietly pulled him aside, wrapped a cloth around his hips, and discreetly handed him tampons after he bled through his clothes.
On top of the horrifying ordeal of inserting a rod into yourself while bleeding to staunch it, he now had to endure the cramps.
The cramps. Oh, the fucking cramps.
Kim Dokja had endured pain like this only once before - when half of his abdomen had been cleanly wiped out by 41st Shin Yoosung’s attack.
The pain might have been bearable if it were constant. It wasn’t.
It came in waves, tightening, twisting, constricting, like someone had shoved his organs into a blender and hit pulse every few minutes.
He was currently curled up on the common lounge sofa like a miserable gremlin, clutching his abdomen and occasionally moaning and whining under his breath.
“Why,” he groaned, “do I have to have a womb on top of everything?!”
“Well suck it up, buttercup. Women go through this every month,” said Han Sooyoung, destroying her usual lollipop with unnecessary violence.
[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire says that mortal women are terrifying.]
“This will help, Dokja-ssi.” Yoo Sangah, the angel in human form said, handing him a heat pad.
The moment warmth touched his abdomen, relief flooded through him. It didn’t erase the pain completely. But it helped.
“Stop being overdramatic,” snickered Jung Heewon.
Honestly, with all the love in his heart, Dokja briefly considered slicing her with his sword.
“Heewon-ssi, I swear to god-”
“Now the are you on your period jokes don’t sound so funny anymore, do they?”
She was right. How women didn’t kill a man every time he made those jokes while they were experiencing this much pain was beyond him. Suddenly, Kim Dokja wanted to see his mother.
Amidst this chaos, another figure entered the room silently.
“Kim Dokja.” Joonghyuk called, placing something on the table. “Eat this while you can.”
He took one brief look at Dokja’s miserable, curled-up form, then walked right back out of the room.
Dokja slowly sat up, still clutching the heat pad. He unwrapped what Joonghyuk had brought.
Chocolates. It was chocolates.
“…What?”
“This is not fair! Where were my chocolates when I got my periods?” Han Sooyoung snapped.
“Hey, bastard! Answer us!” she shouted toward the hallway.
"Life and death companion privileges, I guess." Heewon grumbled.
Meanwhile, Kim Dokja was already digging into the chocolate with alarming gluttony. He licked melted chocolate from his fingers and immediately bit into another piece.
He hadn’t realized he wanted chocolate this badly. How did Yoo Joonghyuk know? Red dusted his cheeks at the thought of it. The sunfish can be extremely thoughtful if he wants to be.
[The constellation Secretive Plotter says he can provide better chocolates.]
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire is cooing.]
Womanhood, Kim Dokja realized, also came with rules no one had written down.
“Dokja-ssi, don’t go outside alone after dark.” Yoo Sangah said it gently, as if it were obvious.
Kim Dokja blinked. “…Why?”
Sangah hesitated for half a second. “Just… don’t.”
Later, while leaving the industrial complex- “Take someone with you,” said Jung Heewon.
“I’m just going to the storage yard.”
“And?” Heewon folded her arms. “…Take someone.”
Dokja didn't fully get it, but a pattern was starting to form.
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Then there were the looks.
The constellations had always looked at him. That part wasn’t new. Those gazes were distant and abstract.
The gazes from the men outside the industrial complex were not. They lingered and followed.
Sometimes conversations stopped when he walked past. Once, someone even whistled. But it was so unlike the sound Heewon had playfully produced the first time he changed into this form. Kim Dokja walked faster.
.
.
.
Negotiations became… strange.
Kim Dokja had always handled discussions with other survivor groups himself. He was the one who understood the scenarios best.
The first time it happened, he assumed it was coincidence. He had just finished explaining the supply proposal when the merchant across the table nodded thoughtfully. Then the man turned to the person standing behind him.
“What do you think?”
Kim Dokja paused. “…I just explained it.”
“Yes, yes,” the man said distractedly. He was still looking at Yoo Joonghyuk.
Joonghyuk frowned. “Ask him.” He jerked his chin toward Dokja.
The merchant laughed awkwardly. “Of course, of course.”
But the next question was directed at Joonghyuk again. This casual dismissal was grating to Dokja's nerves. Beside him, he could hear Joonghyuk gritting his teeth in irritation. Dokja simply patted Joonghyuk's arm and bore the ignominy with grace, though his eyes were blazing.
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.
Two days later, the problem arrived.
Food. More specifically, the lack of it.
The industrial complex could manufacture tools, weapons, and basic equipment. But it could not produce grain. Which meant they needed to negotiate with a nearby survivor guild that had taken control of several farmland zones.
Kim Dokja volunteered immediately. Of course he did.
“You’re not going alone.”
The declaration came from Han Sooyoung, who was currently sitting on a crate.
Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow. “You hate negotiations.”
“I hate idiots more.” She declared. And that was that.
The guild’s headquarters turned out to be the ground floor of a half-collapsed warehouse. Someone had dragged a plastic table into the middle of the room, but most of the men weren’t even sitting around it.
One lounged on a stained sofa. Another leaned against a pillar, sharpening a knife with slow, scraping strokes. A third sat backwards on a chair, arms draped over the backrest. The remaining two stood near the doorway, blocking most of the exit.
All of them looked up when Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung stepped inside.
The room fell quiet when they entered. It was not hostility that they sensed, but something worse. Interest.
“Well now,” one of the men drawled. “Looks like we’ve got guests.”
Another gave a low whistle. His gaze slid slowly from Dokja’s face down to his waist, then back up again. “Super pretty ones, too. Looks like we've hit the jackpot!”
Kim Dokja felt the look like something sticky crawling across his skin. Beside him, Han Sooyoung’s expression had already gone cold.
Dokja stepped forward. “We’re here to discuss a supply exchange.”
One of the men barked a laugh. “Did you hear that? The little lady wants to negotiate.”
Kim Dokja took a deep breath. Patience - he told himself. “Our group controls the industrial complex in the east district. We can provide tools and equipment. In exchange, we require grain and preserved food supplies.”
The men listened, or at least, they looked like they were listening. Their eyes wandered the entire time.
“Industrial complex, huh?” one of them said. “Sounds impressive.” His gaze dropped again. “But negotiations are serious business.”
Another man stood up from the sofa and began circling slowly. “You sure you two can handle that?”
Han Sooyoung’s hand moved. The knife appeared in her fingers so quickly it was almost a reflex. Kim Dokja, like before, reached over and lightly patted her arm.
She glanced at him and inhaled slowly. The knife disappeared again.
Kim Dokja tried again. “We can discuss quantities and delivery schedules.”
The man walking around them stopped behind Dokja. Too close.
“You talk a lot,” he said. His hand lifted. It hovered near Dokja’s shoulder. “Pretty girls usually don’t.”
Something cold moved through Kim Dokja’s chest. Another man had stepped closer to Han Sooyoung. The exit behind them was now blocked completely.
The room smelled faintly of sweat and rust. Someone laughed. “Relax. We’re just being friendly.” The hand touched his shoulder.
That was the moment Kim Dokja moved. Unbreakable Faith flashed once in the dim warehouse light and a scream followed half a second later. Three fingers hit the floor.
The man behind Dokja collapsed backward, screaming and clutching his bleeding hand.
Han Sooyoung had already moved. Her knife buried itself in another man’s thigh before he even finished standing up. “Fucking animals,” she snarled.
Two of the remaining men rushed forward. That was a mistake. Kim Dokja stepped into the first swing and drove his elbow into the attacker’s throat. The second man barely raised his weapon before Han Sooyoung slashed across his forearm.
Thirty seconds later, the warehouse was quiet again. All five of them were on the floor. Very much alive - which was intentional.
Kim Dokja wiped his blade on a discarded cloth. Then he placed the contract on the plastic table.
“Sign it.”
Han Sooyoung leaned against the table, knife still in her hand. Her smile was feral.
“You should hurry,” she said pleasantly. “Before he changes his mind.” The men groaned pathetically from the floor.
[Constellation Secretive Plotter is pleased.]
[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire says that you handled that beautifully.]
After securing the deal, they rushed out of the warehouse without another word. Only then did Kim Dokja realize his hands were shaking.
Han Sooyoung glanced sideways at him as they walked.
“…You okay?”
Kim Dokja's skin still felt wrong. It felt like those gazes hadn't left yet.
“…Let’s just go back to the complex.”
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The fire burned through wood, throwing long shadows across the courtyard. Most of the complex had gone quiet for the night. The night wind moved lazily through the broken concrete corridors, carrying the faint smell of smoke.
Kim Dokja sat near the fire, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Beside him, Han Sooyoung had also claimed a blanket, though she was sitting cross-legged and poking at the fire with a stick.
Across the flames sat the others. Yoo Sangah cradled a warm mug in both hands. Jung Heewon leaned back against a crate. Lee Seolhwa quietly checked the bandages in her kit.
Near them, Lee Jihye and Shin Yoosung sat close together under a shared blanket.
For a while, the only sound was the crackle of burning wood.
“…Is it always like that?” Kim Dokja asked quietly.
Han Sooyoung stopped poking the fire. Jung Heewon shrugged. “Pretty much.”
No one argued. Most horrifyingly, Jihye and Yoosung gave a small nod. Something in Dokja’s chest twisted.
He stared into the fire. Even the children knew.
Growing up, he wasn’t unfamiliar with violence. He had seen what humans could do to each other. He had lived through hostility, cruelty, indifference.
But this felt different.
It was a violence that slipped under a person’s skin and reshaped them slowly. Until they learned to live around it. Until they expected it.
He knew women struggled. Everyone knew that. He had grown up watching his mother endure things he hadn’t fully understood as a child. He had seen the exhaustion in her eyes.
He had also seen what they were trying to do to Heewon the first time he met her.
The apocalypse hadn’t created new dangers for women; it had only stripped away the barriers that once held them back. What was once subtle became blatant and harder to ignore. Safety turned into something you carried with you, in every glance and every step.
He had known. Or at least, he thought he had. But knowing something existed and standing inside it were two completely different things.
Had he been blind?
Worse, had he been silent?
How many times had he heard jokes he didn’t challenge? Comments he ignored? How often had cowardice disguised itself as neutrality in his mind?
The thought made his stomach turn.
He wanted to shield the women in the group. Of course he did. But now it struck him how easily that could slip into something else - making choices for them, deciding what they could or couldn’t handle, keeping them safe in ways that felt like a cage. And maybe, he had been doing that all along, without even realizing it.
So what was the right answer? What was he supposed to do?
Kim Dokja lowered his head slightly. “…I’m sorry.”
Han Sooyoung immediately snorted. “Why are you apologizing?”
“You didn’t do anything.” Jung Heewon raised an eyebrow.
Lee Seolhwa looked at him gently. “You’re not responsible for the entire world, Dokja-ssi.”
Across the fire, Lee Jihye tilted her head. “…Did you think we needed you to feel guilty for us?”
Shin Yoosung looked confused. “Ahjussi, you already help us a lot.”
Kim Dokja rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. “…That’s not what I meant.”
Han Sooyoung narrowed her eyes. Then she sighed. “…You’re thinking too much again.” She nudged the firewood with her stick. “If you really feel bad, just keep doing what you’re doing.”
She looked up, slightly smiling at him, “Standing next to us instead of in front of us.”
Jung Heewon smirked. “Yeah. We can break ribs ourselves.”
Yoo Sangah smiled warmly. “But it’s nice knowing someone will swing a sword if necessary.”
Kim Dokja exhaled. And for the first time since leaving the warehouse, the feeling under his skin began to fade.
Across the flames, Shin Yoosung had fallen asleep, her head resting against Lee Jihye’s shoulder. Jihye didn’t move, even when the fire crackled and shifted. Yoo Sangah quietly draped another blanket over them.
Beside him, Han Sooyoung had stopped talking for once, watching the flames with a thoughtful expression. The sky was suspiciously silent. Kim Dokja pulled his blanket tighter around himself and stared into the embers.
[Constellation who enjoys changing genders is looking at you solemnly.]
Tomorrow, the effect would end. He would return to his usual body. The thought brought a strange mixture of relief and melancholy in him.
The last few days had been… difficult. Uncomfortable in ways he had never expected.
But they had not been entirely bad.
He would remember the braids Shin Yoosung had insisted on making. The laughter they shared in the vanity room. The warmth of sitting around the fire like this. The silent understanding in the women’s voices tonight. Kim Dokja lowered his gaze to the dying fire.
Glancing back was pointless, he supposed. The only path was ahead, and ahead he would do better - he had no choice but to try.
Around him, the courtyard slowly fell silent. And the embers burned gently into the night.