# Episode 8. How a God Becomes Human
—He intends to become Dangun himself.
Hwanung's words spread across the entire world.
Golden eyes moved inside the Thirteenth Chamber.
The being inside the chamber resembled Hwanin.
No—more precisely, it was Hwanin before he was wounded.
There was no black, necrotic flesh, nor any machinery supporting collapsed bones. Judging by his appearance alone, he was no different from a human man around thirty years old.
He was simply too perfect.
A body without scars, moles, or even traces of sunburn.
A body that had never lived in the world even once.
Yoon Seo-ha asked,
“Is that Hwanin too?”
—Not yet.
Hwanin's voice answered.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
—My consciousness must enter it for it to become Hwanin.
Hwanung's face hardened.
—Were you preparing a consciousness transfer?
—I can no longer move in this body.
Inside the life-support system beneath the Cheonbu Foundation in Seoul, Hwanin's original body was breathing.
Without the machine's help, even his heart could not beat. Earth's atmosphere and gravity had not accepted Hwanin, even after thousands of years.
—I observed humans, but I have never lived as one myself.
Hwanin spoke.
—You argued that this made my judgment incomplete.
“So you're going to steal a human body?”
—I did not steal it.
The information on the Thirteenth Chamber was made public.
Body cultivation period.
127 years.
Primary genetic donor.
Yoon Tae-gyeom.
External genetic modification.
Hwanin.
Life resonance stabilization rate.
31 percent.
Without realizing it, Yoon Seo-ha clenched the black stone in her hand.
“A body made with Yoon Tae-gyeom's genes?”
—He consented.
“Did someone losing his memories really understand and consent to a body that would be created 127 years later?”
Hwanin did not answer.
Yoon Seo-ha took that as her answer.
Hwanin must have explained only what Yoon Tae-gyeom needed to know.
That memories were necessary to learn human language.
That human cells were necessary to move on Earth.
But he would not have told him about the plan to use those cells to create a new body and become humanity's leader.
“That wasn't consent. You used him.”
—His purpose and mine were the same.
“Are you saying the process doesn't matter as long as the result is the same?”
—The nation needs a Dangun who can protect it.
“How is you becoming Dangun the same result as protecting the nation?”
Hwanin was silent for a moment.
—I can think longer than humans.
“Thinking longer doesn't make you right.”
—I am not swayed by emotion.
“Sometimes you make the wrong choice because you don't have emotions.”
—I possess more information than humans.
“Having more information doesn't put you above other people.”
The more Yoon Seo-ha argued, the slower Hwanin's voice became.
He had learned human language, but he lacked experience arguing with humans.
Hwanin spoke of efficiency and survival, while Yoon Seo-ha asked about rights and consent.
They used the same words, but they were talking about entirely different things.
Hwanung looked toward the Thirteenth Chamber.
—Wearing a human body does not make you human.
—The body creates sensation.
—Do you think feeling pain will let you understand humanity?
—Pain changes the judgments of living things.
—Then why did you never ask humans directly about their pain?
Hwanin's voice stopped.
Hwanung took a step forward.
—You still do not understand why Hwanhee was necessary.
—Hwanhee made you weak.
—Ara did not block my power.
Ancient sorrow spread through Hwanung's golden eyes.
—She showed me the human beings I had never seen.
—As a result, Joseon fell.
—The beginning of the collapse was erasing her position after Ara died.
Hwanin did not answer.
Yoon Seo-ha looked at Hwanung.
It was a story absent from the records.
Even after the first Hwanhee died, a new Hwanhee should have been appointed.
But Hwanung believed that no one could replace Ara.
The seat of Hwanhee became vacant.
The person who could restrain Hwanung's power and the person who could testify to Dangun's qualifications were both gone.
The leaders of the Bear Tribe took that empty seat.
Hwanhee's authority became a hereditary privilege, and Joseon collapsed.
It was not only Hwanin's fault.
Hwanung had failed too.
“Neither of you has the right to choose humanity's leader.”
Yoon Seo-ha spoke.
Hwanung did not argue.
Only Hwanin asked,
—Then who does?
“I've been telling you.”
Yoon Seo-ha looked at the Awakened in the Twelve Seats and the people watching the broadcast.
“Humans decide.”
—Can humans even refuse to let me become a candidate?
The question had changed.
Hwanin had not declared himself Dangun.
He was asking whether he could become a candidate.
Yoon Seo-ha could not answer right away.
It was difficult to accept a transcendent being becoming humanity's leader.
But if Hwanin truly intended to give up his power and status and live as a mortal human who could die, then the situation was different.
Preventing him from even becoming a candidate would also mean taking away someone's right to choose.
Han Hae-in answered before Yoon Seo-ha could.
“If you want to become human, you have to accept the same conditions as humans.”
Hwanin asked,
—What conditions?
“The right not to be ordered around.”
Han Do-gyeong said,
“The right to choose your own path.”
Seo Ji-an continued,
“The obligation not to hide the truth about yourself.”
Baek Do-won raised his bloodied palm.
“And remove the seals implanted in other people's bodies.”
A brief silence followed.
Hwanin said,
—The Naming Seals cannot be removed before I am recognized as Dangun.
“Then you can't become a candidate.”
Baek Do-won's answer was firm.
Hwanin fell silent again.
At that moment, the figures on the Thirteenth Chamber shifted.
Consciousness transfer preparation: 32 percent.
33 percent.
34 percent.
Hwanin had been proceeding with the transfer even as he spoke with them.
Hwanung shouted,
—Stop!
—The hundred days are meant to give humans time to choose.
—How long can that body last?
Hwanin did not answer.
Yoon Seo-ha read the biological data that appeared beside the chamber.
Estimated cellular collapse.
One hundred days after completion of the consciousness transfer.
“You'll die in a hundred days.”
Baek Do-won's expression hardened.
The period Hwanin had set for approving a Dangun was exactly the same as the lifespan of his new body.
Hwanin had not given humanity enough time.
He had made the period of choice the amount of time he could remain alive.
“What happens if you fail to become Dangun within a hundred days?”
—The new body will die.
“And your consciousness?”
—It will disappear with it.
Hwanin was staking his own existence.
But that resolve did not give him the right to take away anyone else's freedom.
Yoon Seo-ha said,
“Just because you're prepared to die doesn't mean we have to obey you.”
—I know.
For the first time, Hwanin acknowledged something immediately.
—That is why I will become a candidate.
“What about the forced-binding order?”
—It is a safeguard in case humans refuse to choose until the end.
“You have to give that up before you can become a candidate.”
—Then the Twelve Seats will become uncontrollable after I die.
“Do you really think humans can't live in a world without you?”
Hwanin's golden eyes closed.
—I intend to become human to find out.
The consciousness transfer preparation rate passed 50 percent.
At the same time, the entire Cheonbu Foundation headquarters began to shake.
One hundred twenty-seven meters beneath the Cheonbu Foundation headquarters.
Jang Tae-su, head of facility safety management, looked up at the dust falling from the ceiling.
“Check the power usage across the entire facility!”
An employee hurriedly answered,
“The underground life-science research sector is drawing twelve times the headquarters' total power consumption!”
“Twelve times?”
“It’s even pulling power backward from the external grid!”
Red warnings spread across the structural diagram on the wall.
The Cheonbu Foundation headquarters was a skyscraper, but an even larger facility lay underground.
Hwanin's life-support system and thirteen chambers.
The weight of the secret sector, expanded over 127 years, was supported by dozens of artificial pillars.
The ground-stabilization system shut down under the power overload.
One of the pillars snapped.
KRAK-BOOM!
The building sank twelve centimeters.
“Evacuate every employee!”
Jang Tae-su activated the emergency broadcast.
“Collapse risk throughout the underground sectors! Move to the nearest emergency staircase!”
“Chief, the fire door to Chamber 9 is closed!”
“How many people are left?”
“Forty-one facility workers and researchers.”
Jang Tae-su checked the structural diagram.
Chamber 9 was directly above Hwanin's life-support system.
“Open the door.”
“Central control access has been cut off.”
“What about manual opening?”
“It can only be done from inside.”
“Then someone inside can open it.”
The employee shook his head.
“The ceiling in front of the door collapsed. We can't get near it.”
Another impact struck.
KRRR-BOOM!
Cracks spread across the floor.
The load on the central pillar was reaching its limit.
The artificial-intelligence safety system displayed the available options.
Fully sealing Chamber 9 could stabilize the upper building.
Chance of survival for the 41 people remaining inside: 3 percent.
Opening the chamber could result in the collapse of the entire headquarters.
Probability: 78 percent.
Jang Tae-su stared at the screen.
Giving up the forty-one could save the hundreds of people remaining in the building.
According to regulations, there was no reason to hesitate.
“Seal Chamber 9.”
The employee spoke in a trembling voice.
Jang Tae-su stopped his hand.
“No.”
“If we open the chamber, the entire building will collapse.”
“There are still people inside.”
“There are hundreds of people here!”
“That’s why I told you to get them all out.”
“We don’t have enough time!”
Jang Tae-su put on his hard hat.
“Then I’ll buy us some.”
“How?”
“I’ll reinforce the central pillar.”
“There’s no way to get the reinforcement equipment in.”
“Then I’ll go in myself.”
Jang Tae-su grabbed his tool bag and left the control room.
He was not a hero.
Nor was he the engineer who had designed the building's structure.
He was a maintenance worker who had spent twenty-two years here and memorized through experience which pipes leaked and which pillars would crack before the others.
That was why he knew.
Activating the manual hydraulic device beside the central pillar could hold it for about ten minutes.
Whoever activated it would not be able to escape.
Jang Tae-su ran down the emergency stairs.
In the underground sector, people were climbing upward.
He went down in the opposite direction.
“Chief, where are you going?”
“Keep going up!”
“The lower levels are collapsing!”
“I know!”
Jang Tae-su reached the central pillar.
It was already split more than halfway through.
He pulled the handle of the manual hydraulic device.
Four auxiliary supports pushed the pillar upward.
The building's descent paused.
“Chamber 9, do you read me?”
Jang Tae-su spoke into the radio.
A frantic voice came through the static.
—We read you!
“Clear the debris in front of the fire door first. I’ll buy you ten minutes. Get everyone out.”
—What about you, Chief?
“Where else would a facilities chief go when his building is in trouble?”
An alarm rang.
One of the auxiliary supports bent.
Jang Tae-su shoved against the hydraulic handle with his shoulder.
An enormous weight pressed down on his entire body.
His ankle twisted, and one knee hit the floor.
—Sacrificing one person can save more people.
An unfamiliar voice reached him.
Jang Tae-su spat out blood-tinged saliva.
“Did you ask that one person?”
—It is a necessary choice for the sake of everyone else.
“The person involved is the one who makes the choice.”
—Then will you carry the burden in their place?
The pillar sank farther.
Jang Tae-su gripped the hydraulic handle with both hands.
“That’s what I do.”
Boom.
His heart pounded.
“I keep buildings from collapsing in places people never see.”
Boom.
Golden lines spread across his shoulders and back.
Jang Tae-su slowly rose to his feet.
The support that had been bending stopped.
The entire weight of the building shifted onto his body.
His skin turned gray.
Starting at his toes, his body hardened like stone.
Awakening of the Ox Seat complete.
The one who bears the burdens of others and the weight of the world in their place.
Jang Tae-su held up the central pillar with both hands.
The building's descent stopped completely.
“Now!”
He shouted into the radio.
“Everyone, run!”
At the broadcasting station's master control room, a new Awakened appeared before Seo Ji-an's eyes.
A man holding up a collapsing building alone.
But his name was nowhere to be seen.
His face and name were rapidly being erased from the Cheonbu Foundation's personnel records.
Seo Ji-an opened the broadcast network.
“Can you hear my voice?”
Jang Tae-su, deep underground, raised his head.
—Who is this?
“Tell us your name.”
—Is that important right now?
“If people don't remember you, you'll disappear.”
Jang Tae-su looked at the radio.
Chunks of concrete rained down from the ceiling.
“Jang Tae-su.”
Seo Ji-an gripped the microphone.
“The name of the man holding up the Cheonbu Foundation headquarters right now is Jang Tae-su.”
His name appeared on broadcast screens across the country.
“Jang Tae-su.”
Han Hae-in was the first to repeat it.
“Jang Tae-su.”
Han Do-gyeong and Baek Do-won called out his name too.
One by one, the people watching the broadcast opened their mouths.
Jang Tae-su.
Jang Tae-su.
Jang Tae-su.
The personnel records that had been disappearing reappeared.
Ox Seat memory-erasure rate: 0 percent.
Registered through collective testimony.
Awakened: 5.
Seats remaining: 7.
“I’ll open the way.”
Han Do-gyeong stood before the black line leading to the Cheonbu Foundation's underground levels.
Han Hae-in grabbed his arm.
“We don't know what else you might lose.”
“There are forty-one people inside.”
“Another rescue team will go.”
“The building will collapse before they get there.”
Do-gyeong touched the golden line.
“Someone who knows the way has to go.”
The wall split apart.
A passage opened, connecting the broadcasting station to the Cheonbu Foundation's underground levels.
At that moment, the voice of one person disappeared from Han Do-gyeong's mind.
His father's voice, calling his name when he was a child.
He remembered his father's face.
He remembered the river where they used to fish together.
But he could no longer recall the voice his father had used to call him.
Do-gyeong closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he entered the passage.
“Let's go.”
Han Hae-in and Baek Do-won followed behind him.
Seo Ji-an remained at the broadcasting station.
Someone had to keep calling out their names.
Consciousness transfer preparation: 91 percent.
Deep beneath the Cheonbu Foundation, Hwanin's original body convulsed.
Thousands of strands of light poured from the ancient body and moved into the Thirteenth Chamber.
Hwanung shouted,
—If you stop now, you can return to your original body.
—Even if I return, I will not last long.
—Then accept death.
—I cannot die and leave you behind.
Hwanung's eyes trembled.
For the first time, Hwanin's choice revealed something other than power or efficiency: emotion.
Hwanin did not trust humans.
He thought Hwanung would be betrayed and wounded by humans again.
So he tried to become humanity's leader and protect his son.
His method was wrong, but at its starting point was the fear of losing his son.
—I am no longer a child.
Hwanung spoke.
—I will bear the consequences of my choices.
—You fell asleep because you could not even bear the fall of Joseon.
Hwanung could not argue.
—Can you say this time will be different?
—It may not be different.
Hwanung looked at the humans.
Jang Tae-su, holding back a collapsing building.
Han Do-gyeong, opening a path while losing his own memories.
Seo Ji-an, refusing to hide the truth of what happened.
Han Hae-in, choosing people over orders.
And Baek Do-won, who had grown up according to Hwanin's plans yet still refused Hwanin's commands.
—Even so, I will not decide alone this time.
Consciousness transfer preparation: 99 percent.
Hwanin spoke one last time.
—I will find out for myself what it means to be human.
100 percent.
Light exploded.
The life signal disappeared from Hwanin's ancient body.
The Thirteenth Chamber opened.
The new body collapsed onto the floor.
For the first time, the man drew breath.
Cold air stabbed into his lungs.
His heart pounded violently.
The temperature against his skin, the hardness of the floor, and the pain in his muscles struck him all at once.
Hwanin screamed.
It was a sound he had not made once in thousands of years.
He clutched his chest.
“This is…”
Even his voice had changed.
It was not speech assembled through a machine.
It was a human voice, formed as his vocal cords trembled and air from his lungs passed through his lips.
“Pain?”
Biological information appeared.
Species classification.
Human: 99.7 percent.
Transcendent authority.
Disintegrating.
Hwanin designation cannot be maintained.
A new human name is required.
The man slowly rose.
Baek Do-won, Han Hae-in, and Han Do-gyeong had arrived outside the chamber.
Baek Do-won looked at the being who had designed his entire life.
But the man before him was no longer the ruler of Heaven.
He was a human who had been born less than a minute ago.
Yoon Seo-ha's voice came through the memory seal.
“You're no longer Hwanin.”
The man looked down at his own hands.
“Then who am I?”
Hwanung answered.
—Choose that for yourself first.
The man looked at Hwanung.
And for the first time, he did not issue a command. He made a request.
“Will you give me a human name?”
Hwanung shook his head.
—A name is not something I give you.
“Then who decides?”
Han Hae-in said,
“You do.”
“I do?”
“You chose to live as a human, didn't you?”
The man thought of the body he had created and its genetic information.
Yoon Tae-gyeom.
The human who had given him language and memories.
And the name he had once used, meaning Heaven.
After a long silence, the man opened his mouth.
“Yoon Ha-neul.”
New name registered.
Dangun candidate No. 13.
Yoon Ha-neul.
Remaining lifespan.
99 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes.
The numbers began to fall.
For the first time, Yoon Ha-neul heard his own heart beating as it moved toward death.
At that moment, the central pillar Jang Tae-su had been holding up split apart with a thunderous crack.
KRAK!
“The building is collapsing!”
Han Do-gyeong shouted.
Two choices appeared before Yoon Ha-neul's eyes.
If he evacuated now, his chance of survival was 98 percent.
If he used the remaining energy in the life-transfer device to stabilize the building, his chance of survival was 41 percent.
If he were still Hwanin, he would have evacuated the instant he finished calculating.
Yoon Ha-neul looked at Jang Tae-su, protecting people beneath the collapsing pillar.
Then, for the first time since his birth, he made a choice that differed from the calculation.
“Redirect the remaining energy to the central pillar.”
Baek Do-won looked at him.
“Then your body won't stabilize.”
“I know.”
“You could die.”
Yoon Ha-neul rose on trembling legs.
“Didn't you say humans make choices like that?”
The golden energy from the life-transfer device flowed into the central pillar.
The cracks in the building stopped spreading.
At the same time, Yoon Ha-neul's remaining lifespan dropped sharply.
99 days.
87 days.
61 days.
30 days.
The decline stopped.
Time remaining.
29 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes.
Yoon Ha-neul coughed up blood and dropped to his knees.
Hwanung's voice trembled.
—Why did you make that choice?
Yoon Ha-neul managed a strained smile.
“I wanted to find out.”
For the first time, he made an expression resembling a joke through his pain.
“Whether I really became human.”
The time remaining until the Dangun selection changed as well.
From one hundred days to thirty.
Humanity now had only one month to choose a new Dangun.