The elevator's descent jerked to a stop, shuddering like it had second thoughts. Jae-Won pressed his palm against the panel. The lights flickered again. Beneath the silence, a mechanical heartbeat pulsed—deep and irregular. Sub-Level 10.
The doors groaned open.
Heat rushed out, humid and thick, laced with ozone. What greeted him wasn't a lab or a vault. It was a graveyard of prototypes—twisted exosuits, shattered weapon pods, and failed time-dilation chambers, their panels gutted like open wounds. A sign hung askew above the entrance: "Chrono-Nexus Chamber: Authorized Personnel Only."
His HUD blinked red—radiation warnings, erratic energy readings, a pulse he recognized too well.
The energy signature was him.
Or... a version of him.
He stepped inside, boots crunching over shattered glass. Blue conduits flickered across the walls like veins, pulsing toward the center where a collapsed spherical chamber lay, cracked open. On its inner ring, the countdown still blinked:
00:00:07
Seven seconds frozen in time. Just like the moment before he died.
Jae-Won's breath caught.
This was the real origin. Not the gun. Not the girl. Not the betrayal.
The glitch started here.
A humming noise pierced the silence. From the far corner of the chamber, a humanoid figure stepped out—limping, gaunt, metallic plates bolted to its flesh. Its face was obscured by a cracked visor, but Jae-Won didn't need to see it to recognize the staggering gait.
Himself.
A failed echo. A remnant from a fractured loop.
"Another one?" the Echo rasped. "How many more will the system drag back?"
Jae-Won raised his weapon, unsure if it would even work against... him.
"You were supposed to stop it," the Echo continued. "But you didn't. You hesitated. You trusted her."
The name didn't need to be said.
Ara.
Jae-Won's grip tightened. "This time, I'll rewrite everything."
The Echo laughed—a raw, glitchy sound. "You still don't get it. You didn't fall because you failed. You failed because the system needed you to fall."
A pulse surged through the chamber.
Time looped. For a second, Jae-Won stood outside himself—watching the confrontation unfold again, and again, like an echo collapsing inward. Every failed version of him made the same choice. Point. Shoot. Reset.
But this time...
He lowered his weapon.
The Echo froze.
"I'm not here to kill you," Jae-Won said. "I'm here to break the loop."
The pulse reacted. The timer on the wall blinked.
00:00:06
A second ticked back.
The chamber responded, its walls humming alive.
Suddenly, alarms shrieked across the sub-level. Footsteps pounded above. The Syndicate had traced his movement.
Jae-Won turned to the chamber. "Then let's give them something new to fear."
He stepped into the Chrono-Nexus.
Behind him, the Echo grinned. "Finally."
The chamber was sealed.
Time was racked.