TGIC Ch 133

Chapter 133

Consciousness slowly returned, and I opened my eyes.

At some point, the world around me had transformed into the interior of a Gate. Since the last place I remembered being was a bed, I quickly realized this was a dream.

I looked around.

The scenery was strangely familiar. Gates always differed—terrain, atmosphere, monsters—but this time was different. A white blizzard roared, cold so sharp it gnawed at bone.

It was the place where Vasily and I met our end.

“…Cold.”

Shivering, I lowered my gaze. My body was already half-encased in ice. The frost had swallowed me up to the waist and continued to creep higher with chilling persistence.

Around my waist, Vasily’s arm was wrapped tight. I tried to twist free before I froze entirely, but his hold was unyielding.

Of course.

Even here, even now, he intended to share the end with me.

He had already dragged me to death once; to cling to me again, even in a dream—what a joke.

A faint laugh escaped me, white breath dissolving into the icy air. Leaning my head back, I looked up at Vasily—but he did not meet my gaze, eyes shut, silent.

What expression had he worn in those final moments?

I could not quite remember. Peaceful, perhaps. Or—was it loneliness?

Needles of cold pierced every inch of my flesh. Vasily had endured this kind of chill his whole life. Right—he would never have feared this.

The moment I understood I would never escape his grasp, resignation settled in like snow. The ice crawled higher, past my jaw, swallowing my face.

My breath stopped.

Resentment flared—resentment toward the man clinging to me—as I shut my eyes.

And then, I finally woke.

“—Hah!”

I gasped sharply, lungs burning. The dream had felt so real that I must have stopped breathing in my sleep. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady the frantic beat of my heart—yet something felt wrong.

My body was heavy, painfully cold.

But I was not in a Gate. I was lying in my own bed.

Why was I freezing?

My lips felt numb, tinged blue. I dragged the blanket around myself, but the chill burrowed deep and would not loosen.

Only then did I notice an arm cinched around my waist. Something solid pressed against my back.

When I reached down, my fingers brushed cold, hard skin—smooth in places, ridged in others. An arm.

Realization struck. I turned quickly.

Vasily’s eyes met mine. His expression was disturbingly calm.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you were cold, so I held you.”

His body was frigid, yet he clung to me without shame—as though expecting praise.

“That was sleep-talk. And you are the reason it’s cold in here in the first place.”

“That’s why I hugged you.”

“…Good grief.”

He knew exactly what his body was like, yet here he was—acting as though logic did not apply to him.

Because of Vasily, I had been dragged back into that nightmare. I’d seen him—the him who must have died without ever returning—holding me as we froze together. No wonder looking at him directly now made something twist painfully in my chest.

I tore my gaze away and murmured, voice tight,

“I’m awake now. Let me go. I want to wash up.”

“Sleep a bit longer. It’s still early.”

As soon as I tried to push him away, his arm tightened. Dream or reality—it didn’t matter. He would not let go.

I exhaled quietly. My limbs felt weak, perhaps from struggling in the dream. Showing him a pathetic sight was the last thing I wanted. So I stayed where I was.

I closed my eyes, trying again to rest, but my mind—once woken—remained painfully, sharply clear. Eventually, I gave up and stared at the dim ceiling.

Yet Vasily still held me, leisurely indulging in the warmth of my skin. At length, a question escaped me.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What part?”

“Acting this way—as if… as if there were affection between us.”

Despite everything, I could not accept it. Vasily loving someone? Impossible. Even if the world reset a thousand times, even if we stood at the brink of death—Vasily could not, would not, love.

“We are—”

“Stop using the excuse of being lovers. I don’t believe that anymore.”

“…Ah. You figured it out?”

Of course.

His behavior mimicked affection, but it was hollow, a shell. Perhaps a performance.

A hollow laugh scraped my throat. I had been stupid to take his word seriously—even for a moment. But I had been disoriented, my emotions shaken, thrown into a time I never thought I would see again. Confusion was inevitable.

Still—one question remained:

Why pretend at all?

“Why did you lie?”

“Why indeed…”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“If I told you I wanted to try playing lovers… would you believe me?”

A smile flickered across his lips, too soft, too practiced. It fit, yet rang false.

“Stop this. No more games. And stop acting like this in public. From now on, keep things strictly professional.”

“But officially, we are lovers.”

“Then announce we broke up due to incompatibility. Tell them we will remain colleagues. You don’t actually love me.”

“Love, huh…”

He echoed the word, rolling it over slowly. Silence stretched—then his gaze sharpened with sudden clarity.

“…Perhaps I do love Guide Kwon Gidam.”

“…What?”

I snapped my head toward him, stunned. Vasily seemed equally surprised by his own words.

Panic crashed through me.

No way.

No, absolutely not.

The blow hit harder than the revelation that this world believed us lovers. My stomach twisted. My legs nearly gave out—so I fled, stumbling off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t follow me.”

I needed distance. Space. Air. Anything.

Vertigo washed over me. My breath faltered. Each heartbeat ricocheted painfully against my ribs.

Behind me, Vasily rose as well. Footsteps approached.

“Guide Kwon—are you—”

“Don’t come closer!”

His outstretched hand blurred, and revulsion surged so fierce I nearly gagged. I clamped my own hand over my mouth to keep anything from spilling out—my expression, my confusion, my fear.

Of course, Vasily ignored my plea. He seized my shoulder and forced me to face him, lifting my chin to meet his eyes.

Concern flickered faintly—a spark in ice.

And the world went white.

Gidam’s body collapsed forward. Vasily caught him instantly.

A quick assessment confirmed he’d fainted. So the mere idea—those words—were enough to make him lose consciousness.

Perhaps traces of monster toxin still lingered. A hospital visit would be wise. Vasily lifted him carefully, intent on dressing him first—

Then Gidam’s eyes snapped open.

“Esper Vasily…?”

“You woke quickly.”

Gidam blinked in confusion—then outrage flared.

“Has your rampage finally subsided? And where am I—wait—why are my clothes off?!”

He leapt up in alarm, and Vasily dragged a hand across his face.

So that was it.

The moment Vasily confessed love, his guide lost his memories again—and tried to flee.