When was it, that he had started thinking something wasn't right? When had he started feeling the void? When had he started to notice the hollow eyes. When had the blank faces started to bother him? When had THEIR voice started to sound like empty lies?
Since when had he started questioning everything he knew?
He didn't know.
At this point he couldn't tell anymore and it didn't matter. What mattered was that he DID.
Something inside him was moving.
It was as if he was slowly waking up from a fog, covering his mind and for the first time, he saw everything.
The green of the grass, the blue in the skies.
As if for the first time, he heard the sound of birds singing. He felt the cold of the wind, the warmth of the sun and the refreshment of the rain, against his skin.
HongJoong inhaled deeply and took his eyes from the grey air ballons in the horizon and looked at the earpiece in his hand with the three mechanic worms attached. He still felt a little sick, thinking back at how the bloody tech had moved around, for almost a minute, after ripping it out of his ear.
The small piece of tech, that used to be his lifeline, with the voice talking to and guiding him every step of his life. The hollow, mechanic voice had been overturned by something else.
A sound, a rhythm, a beat growing louder and louder. It had grown from a subtle whisper almost inaudible, to a scream, a cry, demanding his attention.
After getting rid of the earpiece, things had become clear. It was then, the fog had lifted.
"What's on your mind, kid?"
HongJoong turned to find an old man walking up to him from behind.
"Old man." HongJoong greeted and gave him a nod. The man had long bushy hair, slightly curled with strings of silver. Matching beard. He wore spectacles one of the glasses broken. His clothes was torn, dirty. His skin dry and blemished. He was a complete opposite of the groomed and perfect skin, that HongJoong had been used to with the people around him. Those he lived with, his parents and those at the academy, his schoolmates.
The old man stood out.
"You're thinking that the task is too big for you alone." The old man said. It was a conclusion, not a question.
HongJoong sighed and nodded, turning his attention back to the air ballons. Once, they had just been a part of the sight, something he hadn't thought about however now, they somehow created a fear and feel of hopelessness in him. It was overwhelming.
The old man hummed thoughtfully, something that caught HongJoongs attention.
"Old man...?"
The ragged man bit his lip, his mind off somewhere.
"I've noticed some glitches in the system lately," He began thoughtful, "Glitches like..."
"The ones I had?" HongJoong interrupted. The old man gave him a pointed look, for interrupting him, but nodded in confirmation.
"Eight different glitch paterns, to be exact."
"Eight?! So this means eight people are waking up, doesn't it?! But thats-!" HongJoong asked excited, by the potential meaning.
"Not necessarily," The old man replied, "It takes a strong mind to break through the wall, and it's not pleasant, as you might remember. They may need a little guidance an outstretched hand, to help them find the way."
HongJoong gave the old man a questioning look and pointed at himself. The old man nodded and gave the young man a smile.
"How long has it been, since you've been to school?" The old man asked and pulled out a stack of papers from his inner pocket, handing them to HongJoong. Looking through the papers, which was profiles containing pictures, names and ages, HongJoong realized he recognised all of them.
One was a classmate at the academy, the rest were from one and two years below him. His juniors.
He looked at the faces and the names. He knew the faces but the names were new to him. At the academy, personal names weren't used, but numbers. Names were rarely used in general.
Seongwha.
The name of his classmate.
"I still can't believe this. I still dont understand..." HongJoong mumbled and looked back up in the sky, "What if its like this, because it's for the best? I mean, it's... peaceful..."
"It's frozen. Dead." The old man corrected, "Humans were mean to feel. We were meant to cry, feel sad, to get angry. Anger are a foundation for change. We were meant to feel happiness, we were meant to laugh and most importanly-" He turned HongJoong to face him, meeting his eyes to let the young man know this was crucial, "We were meant to LOVE." He paused for a moment, holding HongJoong's gaze, "It's our RIGHT, a basic human right, to be able to feel emotions and maneuver through them. LOVE is our right. To give and receive it."
"Love..." HongJoong tasted the word, like he had done so many times before. He had read about it, in the old books, he had seen it, in the old movies, the old man had shown him. However, it was still strange, unreal to him, like so many of the other 'emotions' the old man had told him about and showed, through his books, his movies and paintings.
As far as HongJoong understood, 'love' had three overall categories. Familiar love. Love and care between those in your 'family', the people you lived with, your parents.
Then, there was 'friendship' and 'romantic love'. These two, HongJoong found himself hard to comprehend. These confused him the most. Apparently you could 'love' someone to the point of being willing to die, if it meant they lived on.
The old man called it 'selfsacrifice'.
What kind of 'emotion' was strong enough to make you willing to end it all and press 'delete'?
HongJoong was still fairly new to the sensation of 'pain' however he had quickly concluded it was one of the things he didn't like and could be without. The old man had said it was part of it all.
Something about taking the good with the bad.
Pleasure and pain.
Two sides of the same coin.
Light and dark.
Jing and Jang.
A balanced world.
To HongJoong, it all sounded too confusing.
"I have a feeling, that you'll come to understand it soon." The old man said suddenly.
HongJoong gave the old man a confused look. He just pointed at the stack of profiles in HongJoong's hand and winked with a smile, before putting his hands in his pockets and turned away to leave.
"But how?!" HongJoong called after the old man.
"You'll know!" He called back.
HongJoong mumbled under his breath in annoyance and dropped himself on the ground.
He would know?
When? How?
The glitches were one thing, but to actually being able to pull someone out of the link?
HongJoong had found his way out on his own. And yes, it had been painful. He could still feel the soreness of those electric shocks piercing through him, when he tore out the earpiece. After that, HongJoong had somehow found his way out of the grey city, to the old barn, surrounded by the tall fence. This is where he had met the old man. This is where he had spend the weeks, following his wake up.
HongJoong sighed and lay down in the tall grass. He closed his eyes and lost himself for a moment, in the sensation of the hard, chilled earth under him, the light breeze of the wind and the birds chipping in the surrounding forrest. His lips moved on their own, forming a soft smile at the feeling, the old man had described as 'contentness' and 'simple happiness'. These were some of the emotions HongJoong found he liked.
Without realizing, HongJoong started humming. It was the same rhythm, the beat, which had overtuned the voice back then. It came back, whenever he felt the happiness emotion, whenever he allowed himself to just be and feel. It was a soft, soothing rhythm. The old man called it a 'melody' and it was part of something bigger called 'music' and 'creativity'. He had said it was something humans created, from their emotions. Both the good and bad ones. 'Music' and 'creativity' was a result of feeling 'inspired', like writing and painting and it was something powerful.
HongJoong opened his eyes and smirked. Feeling, what had to be 'inspired', he got up and ran back to the barn.
...
Eyes opened slowly and stared up at the dark grey ceiling. Blinking a few times, he sat up and looked around. Flashing lights of red broke the darkness. He got up and walked to the window. Looking over the dark city, neon signs lighting it up just a little.
He suddenly felt something move in his chest. Putting a hand on his chest, he felt a sublte beating.
A strange sensation.
Like his foggy mind, it was as if it was clearing up, just a little. Something in the distance was moving. Something in the distance was calling him. Something was telling him to...
"Do not question."
He cried out and fell to the floor, as something shot through his body.
Pain.
"Don't doubt yourself at all times."
Then everything went dark.