4.6 | Dark Ages ✓

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HE'S CURLED UP in a foetal position when she finds him.

He notices her from the corner of his eye; her soft footsteps echoing in the silence. She stops mere feet away from him, and her hand comes to rest on his shoulder. It's her gentle touch that sends him surging up to wrap his arms around her waist. With a choked sob, he pulls her in to him, pressing his cheek against the slope of her stomach and keeping his fingers anchored around her hips.

"I didn't mean to." His voice comes out as a dry rasp, hoarse from all the hours he's spent wallowing in self-hatred and pity. "I didn't mean to do it. All I ever wanted to do was to save the world, but I—I destroyed it."

She smoothes one delicate hand down his back, before sifting her fingers through his hair. He shivers, unable to help himself, and holds her even tighter to him, keeping his knees locked around hers as though she'd leave if he didn't.

"I know," she says softly. "I know you didn't mean to. But it happened anyway, and you're the only one who can fix it. You have to."

He lets out a muffled sob against her shirt. "But even if I did, it wouldn't change anything. I'm still the man who created Strand F. The one who wiped out a third of the world's population. The one who started the Dark Ages."

"I don't believe in the Dark Ages," she says unexpectedly. "That's what historians used to call a period of regression, ignorance and fear. Everyone uses the term now because they think that humanity's destroyed. But we haven't—not yet. We have the knowledge to fight this, the unity of an entire species, and the hope that, someday, this will all be over."

When he remains silent, she slides her palms up to his cheeks and lifts his head so that he's looking right at her. He gazes up into her warm eyes, swallowing hard at the soft affection within them.

I don't deserve this, he thinks. I don't deserve you.

"It's never too late to save the world, Taehyung," she says, meeting his gaze. "I believe in you."

"You're the only one who does."

Her lips curve up in a fond smile, and he represses the urge to press his lips to the corner of her mouth, to find out if she tastes as sweet as her smile is. "You'll be surprised at how many of us do."

He wakes up.

Traces of tears still linger on his cheeks, and he brings a hand up to scrub at his face. Flashes of his past jumps return, each fitting like a piece of a puzzle that hadn't been made clear before.

Generation F, Yoongi had told him. We called them Frankensteins, playing on the irony that they were, indeed, created from Strand F. But no one ever knew who the scientists were. Two scientists, Hoseok had said, two brilliant, formidable, top experts of their field. And what had Jungkook said to him again? Stand down, Doctor. Of course he was a doctor. When you got your doctorate, Seokjin had said, our Mom used to brag about what a genius you were.

He'd spent so long trying to make sense of everything. But now that he has, he regrets ever wanting to know. How blissful he'd been, left in ignorance, trying to survive the Dark Ages without any guilt whatsoever. But now he has the blood of millions on his hands. Even if he did survive the Dark Ages, how can he ever live with himself in the aftermath?

The patter of footsteps makes him look up. Seokjin hovers by the door way, two steaming mugs in his hands, concern etched into his features. "Are you alright?"

He swallows and looks away.

With a sigh, Seokjin sets the mugs down, before sitting next to him on the bed. After a pause, he feels the comforting weight of his brother's hand on his shoulder. "I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you," he says quietly. "In fact, I wish you'd never known. But it's not your fault. You've always had noble intentions, no matter how arrogantly clever you were, and you genuinely wanted to help people. You just didn't see it coming, that's all."

Taehyung drags in a deep, shuddering breath. "Maybe I didn't. Or maybe I did. I don't remember."

"You didn't," Seokjin insists. "Whenever I called, you'd tell me about the progress of your work. You were open to the possibility of failing. But having it backfire like this was never an option."

"I see."

Another lengthy silence reigns between them, before Seokjin eventually breaks it. "You have to pull yourself together," he says. "I didn't come all the way here just for you to wallow in self-pity. I came to find you—and I have, but we've got to find Namjoon now."

His head snaps up. "Namjoon?"

"Our brother." A faint sad smile touches Seokjin's lips and he shrugs. "You didn't think there was only one of you I had to worry about, did you?"

He swallows again, fighting another fresh stinging in his eyes. Fuck it all—he's being a pathetic sap, but the idea of having yet another person to call family is almost too good to be true. "I didn't know."

"Well, now you do, so get it together." Seokjin claps him on the back and climbs to his feet. "If there's anyone in this world who has a shot at fixing everything—it's you. Only you know the formula for Strand F and—"

"No, I don't." He turns to his brother, fighting the despair that threatens to overwhelm him. "That's the problem. I don't remember. I don't know. I'm not me anymore. Even if I had the formula for an antidote, I still wouldn't have a clue what to do with it, because I'm not a scientist! I'm just a—"

—a time-traveller.

He stills, his mind suddenly racing. He doesn't have the knowledge that he once had. But he does have something else his past self never did—the Cypher. He looks down at the watch around his wrist. While he'd been careful to keep from purposefully meddling in the past before, there's no reason why he shouldn't do anything he can to change this future now. Especially when this future contains his two brothers and, quite possibly—her.

Her words from his dream drift softly like an echo through his mind.

It's never too late to save the world, Taehyung.

Reaching for his mug, he turns to his brother and drags in a deep breath. "Tell me everything you know about my research."