Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

The pilot never gave his name, but his ability to land at night made it clear—he was a seasoned veteran.

He flew at dangerously low altitudes, likely wary of anti-aircraft fire. Then, without warning, he executed a sharp turn so steep that the aircraft tilted nearly 90 degrees.

"We’ll be taking the route over the sea."

As the plane slowly climbed, the vast ocean, tinged with a murky yellow hue, came into view.

I stared at the water from above the clouds, my mind drifting, until something caught my eye.

"What is that?"

Even from this high up, I could see massive, distinct trails.

They weren’t exactly ship wakes, but something enormous was moving in the water, large enough to resemble vessels.

I flipped through the mental archives of my long-forgotten animal encyclopedias.

"Whales?"

The pilot let out a bitter chuckle.

"Mutation whales."

"Mutation whales…?"

The common belief was that marine creatures couldn’t mutate. Fish were considered too biologically inferior for mutation factors to take effect. But whales—whales were different.

Despite their fins, whales were mammals, just like us.

There had been some fringe theories about whales mutating, but the academic community dismissed them. Their populations were already too low to pose a threat to humans, and even if they did start attacking people, the world would just see a repeat of the brutal whaling era of the 19th century.

Unlike fish, whales had to surface for air. That made them easy prey.

Of course, that also meant hunting them would require whaling ships and weapons powerful enough to take down a mutated beast.

"Mutated orcas are a real nightmare. They’re already big, but now they’ve grown to the size of sperm whales."@@novelbin@@

"Orcas? I thought orcas didn’t attack humans."

"That’s ancient history. Now, they live up to their English name—killer whales, through and through."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. They were already smart, but now they’re bigger, stronger, and they move in packs. You can’t escape. The Busan supply ships have already lost two vessels to them. Even the navy has trouble. These bastards are clever—they recognize the sound of propellers and can tell which ships are a threat. If the ship is too dangerous, they flee. If it’s weak, they ram it until it sinks."

"…That’s horrifying."

The pilot chuckled.

"The ocean belonged to the whales before humans arrived. They’re just taking back their old home."

I stared at the eerie, shifting patterns in the water for a long time.

The propeller plane was sluggish, its magic power unimpressive. Compared to the domestic flights I used to take from Gimpo Airport, this journey was dragging on.

Two and a half hours had passed since we left the West Sea and continued over the South Sea.

And then—land appeared on the horizon once more.

For a moment, I forgot I was strapped into my seat and nearly stood up.

Jeju.