‘Where on earth is this excitement coming from?’ Perhaps it was because he was on his way to meet Illik in the United States.

  Whenever he crossed the Yeongjong Bridge, he often felt as if he had already left Korea and arrived in a foreign land.

  In the silence of the Genesis, which perfectly blocked out all external noise, the car glided across the bridge as if sliding over clouds.

  Jun-ho felt the reality of possessing a human body. Over a long period, there were times he had occupied a human form, and other times he had used a droid’s body as his own.

  The strange thing was that while the droid’s body exhibited nearly identical capabilities to human skeletal structures and muscles, that sense of ‘excitement’ never arose when he used a droid’s body as his vessel. That fluttering of the heart occurred only within a human body.

  He began to think that the mind was not something controlled solely by the brain, but rather a kind of chemical reaction that took place in tandem with the human physical form.

  Jun-ho walked slowly toward the 'Prestige Suites,' the business class section of the Korean Air Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner.

  Moving quietly along the wide aisle, he took a look around. The seats, lined up under calm lighting, were partitioned like small private spaces, and the passengers already settled in were either conversing in low voices or quietly flipping through books.

  After checking his seat number, Jun-ho set his bag down. He was dressed in a suit, but without a tie. His physique remained solid, making it hard to believe he was sixty-five; looking at him from behind, one would hardly guess he was of that age. He hadn't brought much luggage—only a single small backpack slung over his shoulder as he boarded the plane. He was dressed lightly, as if he were just heading out for a brief trip.

  He tried to tuck the backpack into the empty space under the ottoman at his feet, but it was too large to fit.

  "Sir, shall I place your backpack in the overhead bin for you?" a young flight attendant asked softly.

  "Ah... that's alright." Jun-ho didn't particularly want to do that. There were items he needed to take out and check, and he felt it would be fine just leaving it beside his seat.

  As fatigue washed over him, he reclined his seat to nearly 180 degrees, took off his shoes and placed them under the ottoman, and stretched his legs out across the leg rest. He closed his eyes. He felt as though he finally understood what it meant for a physical body to grow old.

  He opened his eyes slightly to the sound of trolley wheels rolling and the murmur of people talking. He had been asleep for over an hour.

  A flight attendant approached him.

  "What would you like for your meal? We have Western and Korean options."

  Jun-ho smiled and shook his head before speaking.

  "I’m sorry, but could I possibly have some ramen and rice?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of a plea.

  "Yes, of course. We prepare the ramen ourselves. Please wait just a moment."

  Whenever Jun-ho flew business class, he requested the ramen. This wasn't just typical cup ramen; the flight attendants boiled the water themselves and served it with peppers and bean sprouts. Because it was truly a superb dish, Jun-ho made sure to order it every time.

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  As the captain’s announcement that they were passing over the middle of the Pacific Ocean echoed through the cabin, Jun-ho took a book out of his bag and began to read.

  The book was titled Cathedral by Raymond Carver. It was a US edition, a collection of short stories.

  The cover of Cathedral, featuring an illustration of a Victorian mansion under a cold, gray-toned night sky, was so worn from Jun-ho’s repeated reading that it was practically falling apart.

  Jun-ho had read this book dozens of times—no, he read it whenever he had a spare moment. He wanted to understand the human heart.

  Every time he read the chapter "A Small, Good Thing," something unidentifiable and hot welled up from deep within his chest. Memories from 700,000 years ago, of the time he spent with Illik on a spacecraft, came rushing back.

  Seventy thousand years ago, shortly after arriving on Earth with Illik, she had a child.

  It was a girl. Jun-ho hadn’t initially come together with her out of love. They were simply colleagues who had traveled through deep space together.

  They had landed on Earth together, built a laboratory, and surveyed the planet's environment. They spent every night together, and one day, realizing they were the only two of their kind on this planet, they naturally began sleeping together. A child was conceived, and feelings of love began to take root.

  The spacecraft they arrived in was equipped with sufficient medical facilities; even if a physical body died, as long as the neural pathways and extracted memories remained, the consciousness could be transplanted into a droid.

  However, it was impossible to do so for a baby. They had to be at least three years old.

  But the tragedy occurred when their daughter was only two.

  When they first entered Earth's atmosphere, they landed the spacecraft on flat terrain near running water. After landing, they burned away the surrounding trees to create a clear line of sight against potential external threats.

  They deployed droids to guard against possible intrusions by Paleolithic humans. At that time, Earth was entering the Paleolithic era. While these early humans were occasionally spotted, they were driven away using sonic control devices. They seemed to live mostly in clusters within caves.

  However, since they also needed water, they were clearly angered by the fact that our craft had landed near the stream, preventing them from easily accessing it.

  At the time, several droids stood guard and drove the Paleolithic humans away. The locals would scream or hurl stones in defiance.

  Though Jun-ho loathed it, the memory of that day resurfaced. It was the day Illik had told him not to take the baby to the water. Jun-ho had dismissed her concerns lightly.

  The summer humidity was high and the heat was stifling. He had simply wanted to take the baby to the water and give her a bath. But just as he was about to wash her, a stone axe flew out from nowhere. It struck the child squarely in the head.

  The plane reached the airspace above LAS Airport. As the airport came into view, his heart pounded with the excitement of seeing her again. He couldn't even remember when he had last seen her.

  Jun-ho had lived with her for 80 years when they shared the same original biological form; after that, she had transferred her memory files into a different body. The illik who inhabited a different body was no longer the woman she used to be.

  When they parted ways, she took the spacecraft, while Jun-ho established a residence in what is now Korea.

  Now, at the thought of meeting her, Jun-ho felt a wave of excitement mixed with an overwhelming surge of sorrow.

  He was so incredibly sorry. It was an emotion he had tried to suppress for 700,000 years. Yet, that feeling refused to be forgotten. He had even gone as far as creating a separate folder for those memories in his mind, consciously keeping them tucked away.

  Unless he intentionally pulled that 'sorrow file' from his brain, Jun-ho was able to remain oblivious.

  But it was all in vain. Small fragments of memory drifted along the neural networks of his brain, unfolding instantaneously like a vivid painting.

  Whenever that happened, a wave of guilt toward Illik washed over Jun-ho’s heart. That emotion, which had approached so quietly, suddenly overwhelmed his body and mind like a surging tide.

  Yet, he had never once been able to say he was sorry. Why? The words simply wouldn't leave his lips. No, wait—perhaps he had said it once or twice back then.

  Soon, he would meet her. He suspected she had likely allowed herself to be captured by US intelligence on purpose. She must have a reason.

  No one in this world knew of their relationship. He was a 65-year-old man, and she was a woman in her twenties. In her presence, Jun-ho had to control his emotions. He had to forget the events and memories of the past.

  The plane landed at Las Vegas Airport. As he stepped outside, two members of the JSTR team arrived to collect him. He climbed into a massive Tahoe and headed toward an Air Force base near Nevada.

  Though it was winter, the air wasn't as cold as he had expected. A strange silence filled the interior of the vehicle.

  After about thirty minutes, the car glided into the entrance of the Air Force base without slowing down. As soon as they passed the checkpoint, the vast runway and hangars came into view. The car drove even deeper into the base.

  Stopping in front of a worn-out warehouse at the far end of the base, the JSTR team got out and blindfolded Jun-ho with a cloth. After walking for about five minutes, they seemed to enter a room.

  When the blindfold was removed, a middle-aged American man was sitting there.

  It was Scott, the leader of the JSTR.