She smiles. "That can be arranged."

"Soooo a new compatible esper, huh?" Park Yoo-min asks after they've cleared the dungeon of all civilians outside the boss room and are getting ready to face it.

Tae-gun trains an unimpressed glare on him. He doesn't regret sharing it, exactly, it would be bad operational practice if he didn't report this kind of situation to his superior when it happened; he just really wishes his superior for this mission weren't Park Yoo-min-sunbae.

"Aw, come on, aren't you even a little bit curious? And it's sort of romantic, isn't it, awakening someone while heroically rescuing them—"

His partner elbows him. "Hyung, Tae-gun is uncomfortable."

"Aw, you know it's just friendly ribbing! I mean it with love!"

"Let's focus on rescuing the remaining civilians."

(He needs to get out his backlash is driving him insane and it's all he can do to stay composed. He doesn't want to think about what's going to happen after the boss fight. He'll power through it, like he always does, but—)

"—right."

"Hyung is just nervous."

He scratches his cheek. "It's my first time facing such a big monster with a small party like that. And, don't get me wrong, I trust you, Tae-gun, just..."

"It's fine. Let's just get to it."

Yeah. Yeah, they can do that. Yoo-min goes into a more productive state and they can discuss tactics to deal with the undead dragon that's probably housing or guarding the core of the dungeon.

Tae-gun gets in the zone and stops paying attention to the symptoms of his backlash, only keeping track of its current level so that he doesn't overdo it. He has, actually, been overdoing it this whole mission, and yet he might end up backlash-negative due to his encounter with Marza. He did not know awakening another esper would bite such a huge chunk off his own backlash, though he's not sure that there's anything to do with this information; it's not like anyone has any way to find potential awakenings.

Yet when they've killed the boss, destroyed the core, and stepped out, Tae-gun is still the one who looks the most put together, looking for all the world like he could be on the cover of some magazine. The only evidence of the trouble they've gone through is the sweat on his skin and the slight dishevelment of his hair. He smiles for the cameras—there are always cameras, and this dungeon was in Busan of all places so there's tourists even, there's going to be pictures and videos of him all over Instagram—then requests a teleport to his isolation site.

All of his ability to hold together evaporates at once as soon as he's home, though, and the thoughts he's been avoiding all come crashing down on him.

It's ridiculous. It's so fucking ridiculous. He hates it, hates it so much, hates that his backlash is—is—this. It's him fumbling out of his coat and his shirt and his boots and his belt and his trousers, it's him being hard before he even gets out of his clothes. It's all of the fleeting, stupid, ridiculous ideas he had in that dungeon. It's...

...the way she ordered him around, and got pissed off at him, how he wishes she were calling his name.

...her lightning—he'd survive a direct strike, he's sure of it, but how would it feel? Would it hurt? What would she do with him if he were made helpless by it?

...how powerful she was, how maybe she could subdue him, could bring him down, could have him at her feet, begging, panting, whining, could have him at her beck and call, could could could—

It takes him far, far longer and far, far more orgasms than he would like to admit, than it usually does, before he finally manages to get himself sufficiently under control to grab the guiding meds. They're, at this point, only really going to help with the symptoms, but the symptoms are all he needs help with. He needs to be able to take any actions other than moan and touch himself and come, he needs to become human again. Become himself.

He hates it.

The room is, honestly, hotel room levels of nice: the bed is huge, the ensuite has an enormous bathroom, there's a desk and a table and a kitchenette, it's only the lack of a window and the materials the floor, ceiling, and walls are made of that give the game away.

Still pretty comfortable, though.

She did not turn out to need literal sedation. Regular sleeping pills plus the level of exhaustion she was experiencing knock her out for ten hours, at which point she wakes up, gets in the tub, and scrubs herself until she doesn't feel like she's coated in bonemeal and ashes anymore.

She determines how to contact Kim Ha-yoon (or equivalent) and does so.

"Good morning, or whatever time it currently is. I have recovered, and apologize for the portion of my earlier conduct for which I am able to honestly apologize. Is now a good time to continue my... possible interview?"

"Certainly. Interview is—not really what this is, though. I suppose that's on me for assuming you'd have been informed. Usually when espers manifest, the government sends them an agent to explain what this all means for them and what their options are. I'm one such agent, but this facility is special, for new espers who for one reason or another cannot just receive a visit in a hospital or similar. Usually just unusually powerful espers, but in your case it was both that and the fact that it seems you've come upon your full power all at once and it seems unusually destructive even controlling for how powerful it is.

"So that's what I'm here to do, is tell you what being an esper entails in general terms and let you know what you could do about it, if you wanted to do anything about it."

"...ah. Yes, that would follow. My options.

"I intend to devote one hundred percent of my remaining lifespan to destroying dungeons as efficiently and as completely as possible. Any other options do not appeal. So whatever resources you can provide toward that end, I will happily put to use."