Rain poured down relentlessly.

    It was monsoon season, and the downpour showed no signs of stopping.

    While my bunker was equipped with an excellent drainage system, capable of handling all but the heaviest of rains, the recently built decoy bunker wasn’t as fortunate.

    Wearing a raincoat, I ventured outside to inspect the decoy bunker, and my uneasy premonition proved correct.

    The decoy bunker, which I had spent an entire month building, was already showing signs of collapse.

    At this rate, it might cave in before the Legion faction even arrived.

    Reinforcements were necessary.

    I removed the booby traps connected to the tripwires, retrieved the explosives, and used a pump to drain out the accumulated water.

    Once the water was gone, I felled nearby trees and fashioned makeshift supports to reinforce the ceiling.

    I wanted to use cement, but with the rain persisting, it was impossible to even pour it, let alone allow it to cure. I had to settle for the wooden supports.

    Since the Defender siblings had left, I was stuck doing all the work on my own.

    Doing it alone was undoubtedly more exhausting.

    Before the war, I could work until I was soaked to the bone, sleep soundly, and get back to it the next day without a care for what others thought. But now, I couldn’t even get proper rest. On top of that, I had to stay vigilant, constantly scanning my surroundings even while working.

    This made me realize just how invaluable a scout like Defender’s sister was.

    The temptation to call Defender for help surged up my throat, but I had my pride.

    In the end, I didn’t summon them and managed to patch up the decoy bunker’s structural issues to some extent.

    But the sky can be merciless at times.

    Shwoooosh...

    This year’s monsoon was particularly unforgiving.

    Thunder roared, and torrential rain poured down as though the sky itself had been ripped open.

    The rainfall was so intense that my rain gauge recorded a staggering 70mm per hour.

    It was the worst downpour since the war began.

    Perhaps that’s why—

    Drip. Drip. Drip.

    For the first time, water began seeping through my bunker’s previously impenetrable ceiling, and murky water started creeping into the main entrance, which had been sealed with earth.

    Then came trouble with the plumbing.

    Gurgle... gurgle...

    The central toilet emitted a strange, eerie groan, prompting me to immediately shut off all the pipe valves.

    Just in the nick of time.

    I narrowly avoided a sewage backup flooding the entire bunker.

    That would have turned my haven into a literal cesspool.

    But this was just the tip of the iceberg.

    The massive downpour was pressing down on everything beneath it with merciless weight.

    Splat, splat, splat.

    In the afternoon, I heard the sound of a landslide.

    It wasn’t near the decoy bunker but across the valley, where weak ground composed of dead and young trees had given way and spilled downhill.

    Countless worries raced through my mind.

    The worst-case scenario was flooding.

    If the underground food storage or generator were submerged, it would spell certain doom for me.

    Throughout the storm, I kept vigilant, darting between the second and third underground levels, the garage, and the main bunker to check for leaks.

    I had to give my past self some credit.

    Even under over 300mm of torrential rain, my bunker stood firm.

    But it wasn’t without damage.

    The first floor, directly connected to the outside, was inevitably flooded.

    Though the water only reached ankle height, it was enough to make living in the bunker nearly impossible.

    The stench was the worst part.

    While I had managed to prevent sewage from directly backing up, the septic tank had filled with rainwater, causing its contents to spill everywhere. Some of that waste had mixed with other rainwater and seeped into the bunker, spreading a foul, damp odor.

    The rain let up momentarily, and I stepped outside to survey the sky.

    Though the downpour paused, the skies remained overcast, and the monsoon showed no signs of abating.

    I checked the decoy bunker.

    Despite my exhausting reinforcement efforts, it hadn’t collapsed but had essentially turned into a water tank.

    Sigh.

    Grasping the shovel tightly, I felt the weight of humanity’s insignificance in the face of nature.

    Thunk.

    My next target was the entrance to the main bunker, which I had previously buried with the excavator.

    I needed to reopen it.

    For drainage, for ventilation—there was no other choice.

    Without reopening this door, I had no idea how to expel the water and foul air.

    Even with a decent ventilation system, nothing beats having the door wide open.

    Thunk.

    Thankfully, the ground had softened, making digging easier. Soon, the sturdy front door of my home came into view.

    Here’s an obscure fact: engraved on the solid steel door, in small letters, is the name Park Gyu.

    It’s a sort of nameplate.@@@@

    I’d seen nameplates on houses while strolling through residential areas in the past and decided to imitate the idea. Not that many people would notice it.

    Anyway, as I pushed open the heavy door, a blast of hot, humid, foul-smelling air rushed out, revealing the staircase that descended endlessly below.

    Carefully, I made my way down and began draining the water.

    Vroooom...

    Purchasing a drainage pump had been a stroke of genius.

    It felt like ordering a side dish at a restaurant only to find it tastier than the main course.

    I had bought the pump for cleaning the septic tank, never imagining it would perform so admirably.

    Sure enough, our trusted Gija Yangban (Reporter Guy) shared an update from Incheon.

    gijayangban: “Current flood-related missing persons: over 50,000.”

    gijayangban: “Government has stopped counting.”

    There were no photos or other evidence, but everyone believed him.

    They believed him because they had experienced the devastation firsthand.

    Flooding in a well-built apartment protected by aluminum frames was one thing; being waist-deep in water was another entirely.

    And this time, more people had experienced the latter.

    Vroooom!

    Next to the decoy bunker, the pump hummed as it worked tirelessly to drain water.

    Even though I’d been working throughout the monsoon, the tasks seemed endless.

    Cleaning the water tank, repairing the groundwater pump, clearing clogged drains, drying, organizing—it was an unending list.

    “....”

    Moments like this brought the temptation to give up on everything.

    To escape into drugs or alcohol, living recklessly like so many others.

    But I couldn’t afford that.

    There were still things I wanted to see.

    In the far south, on Jeju Island, my former colleagues were closing the Rifts.

    I wanted to see their results.

    Of course, it wouldn’t be easy.

    Rain or shine, I was still on the Legion faction’s radar and could be attacked at any time.

    Even draining the decoy bunker’s water was just another desperate act to stay alive.

    “Hm?”

    Something wriggled out of the damp earth.

    It was a cicada nymph.

    It wasn’t fully grown, but the chaotic weather must have pushed it out prematurely for an early glimpse of adulthood.

    I picked it up and tossed it back into the soil before turning my gaze to the decoy bunker.

    Suddenly, a thought struck me.

    Was I so different from this cicada?

    Cicadas spend nearly seven years living underground, preparing to molt. Once they emerge, they live briefly, crying and mating before dying.

    This decoy bunker was no different.

    It had been built solely for one moment—a grand performance.

    A dramatic bang! before collapsing under the Legion faction’s eyes.

    Until then, it would remain in waiting.

    No one knew how long it would have to wait.

    Defender might be right; perhaps the Legion faction would never come.

    If that were the case, it meant I’d have to endlessly maintain and repair a bunker built to collapse someday, all for an enemy that might never arrive.

    What if that waiting stretched beyond seven years?

    “...Mimimi.”

    Just like a cicada.

    SKELTON: Mimimi... The rain is too much. So exhausting. Mimimi....

    dongtanmom: Yum yum... Why are you copying me? Yum yum....

    SKELTON: Mimimi... Shut up, Mimimi....

    dongtanmom: Yum yum... That’s rude... If you met me in person, you wouldn’t dare say that. Yum!

    SKELTON: Mimimi... I’m a Level 18 Awakened. Wanna fight IRL? Mimimi....

    It was all just to mess with dongtanmom, or rather, Baek Seung-hyun.

    Message from defender: “Skelton? Have you finally lost it?”

    Message from Anonymous848: “What’s this? Did the rain make you snap?”

    Message from mmmmmmmmm: “Yomnyomnyom~?”

    Message from gijayangban: “?”

    The reactions around me were universally shocked.

    I admit, it was a bizarre concept even by my standards.

    But it was just stress relief.

    That surge of impulsive energy that sometimes takes over and makes you act crazy.

    Perhaps it was inevitable.

    I had been harboring a grudge against Baek Seung-hyun for so long that my pent-up stress finally burst out.

    However, my strange antics seemed to resonate with someone unexpected.

    iamjesus: “Mimimi....”

    One of the four self-proclaimed lunatics of the board, iamjesus, had taken to my concept.

    So far, so good.

    It’s natural for one lunatic to be drawn to another, like magnets attracting each other.

    The problem was the photo he attached.

    “...Hm?”

    The photo showed the interior of a dark bunker.

    It was a grim scene of poverty, littered with explicit adult items, and a man who looked downright pitiful.

    It would have been an ordinary, miserable photo if not for the eerie glow in his eyes and the halo-like grayish light shining behind him.

    I recognized the phenomenon immediately.

    “Alpha Awakening.”

    A distinct phenomenon that occurs when a high-level Awakened becomes conscious of their power.

    Unlike other Awakened, they exude an otherworldly brilliance, as though proclaiming to the world that they’ve been chosen by a higher power.

    iamjesus: “Mimimi... What’s happening to me? Mimimi....”

    It seemed that a divine power had chosen one of the board’s outcast lunatics.