The rain outside never stopped. It came down in endless sheets over Seoul's cracked skyline, streaking across neon billboards that flickered with the faces of people long gone. The storm made the entire city hum like a single circuit — alive, restless, and waiting.
In the tunnel below, the light of the monitors reflected off Lin's eyes as he stared at the final encryption wall of Keller's implant.
Lines of code spiraled and reformed like living veins. The deeper he went, the more it felt less like data and more like anatomy — as though he were staring into a living organism that breathed in binary.
Hana stood behind him, her arms crossed, a faint tremor in her voice. "If we activate the protocol, there's no guarantee we can pull you back."
Keller sat in the chair at the center of the chamber. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with a steady, haunting clarity. "Then we make sure we don't fail."
