The words on the whiteboard—THE LEGACY (Eclipse)—were no longer just a strategic analysis; they were a death sentence. They hung in the air of the war room, glowing with a chilling, personal malice. All eyes were on Jin. He was the focal point of the revelation, the living embodiment of a decade-old grudge he never knew existed. He felt the weight of their gazes, the sudden, intense pressure of being the epicenter of the storm. He remained silent, his face pale, but the initial shock was already hardening into something else—a cold, grim, familiar resolve. He had been a target before. He had been chewed up and spat out by the industry machine. This was just a new monster, with a familiar face.
The rest of the team, however, immediately mobilized around him. Their own recent wounds, their personal crises and lingering guilts, were forgotten in an instant. The abstract war against a corporation had just become a concrete mission to protect one of their own from a threat that was deeply personal and psychological.
Da-eun was the first to move, her restless energy finding a new, sharp focus. She crossed the room and stood beside Jin's chair, not touching him, but creating a physical barrier with her presence, a clear, unspoken show of solidarity. "So let her come," she said, her voice a low growl that vibrated with protective fury. "We finally know where she's going to strike. We know she's coming for him. We're not going to be caught off guard again. Whatever she throws at him, whatever lies she cooks up, she has to go through all of us first."
Kang Ji-won, who had been leaning against the wall in his usual detached posture, pushed himself upright. His customary cynicism was gone, replaced by a fierce, creative fire. "The Aura Chimera album," he declared, his voice ringing with a new purpose. "It's no longer just a philosophical weapon against OmniCorp. It's a shield for Jin. It's his declaration of independence. We will make his new music, his new identity with us, so powerful and so critically acclaimed that anything Nam Gyu-ri tries will look like the petty, jealous ramblings of a failed artist who couldn't make it. We will build him a fortress of artistic integrity so high she can't see over the walls."
The idea was potent. They would fight a psychological war with an artistic one.
Yoo-jin, snapping out of his own horrified trance, took command. The weight of his past sins was still heavy, but now it was fuel. He had a chance to protect someone from the consequences of his own history. His focus became razor-sharp.
"Ji-won is right," he said, his voice regaining its authority. "Our entire strategy shifts, effective immediately. We are no longer playing defense. We are no longer trying to anticipate their next move. We are launching Operation: Shield."
He began to pace the room, his mind already assembling the pieces of their new mission. "Every resource this company has is now dedicated to two primary goals. First: protecting Jin from all possible attack vectors—digital, personal, and professional. Second: accelerating the production, completion, and launch of the Aura Chimera album. We have to redefine Jin's narrative on our own terms before she has a chance to destroy it."
The fear that had paralyzed them just moments before was now being transmuted into a concrete plan of action. The war room buzzed with a new, proactive energy.
"Min-ji," Yoo-jin commanded, turning to their spymaster. "I want a complete digital lockdown. I want you to do a deep forensic scrub of Jin's entire online presence. Old social media accounts, fan forums, anything. Look for dormant accounts, old connections, anything that could be used as a vector for a social engineering attack. From this moment on, we assume every new person who tries to contact him, every email from an unknown source, is an agent of the enemy."
"Understood," Min-ji said, her fingers already flying across her keyboard. "I'll set up a multi-layered firewall and monitoring system for all of his communications. Nothing gets to him without being filtered by me first."
"Min-young," Yoo-jin continued, turning to their lyricist and moral compass. "You and I will handle the narrative shield. We need to get ahead of her story. I want you to start drafting interview pitches, feature articles. We frame Jin's move to Aura not as an escape from a failed past, but as a deliberate artistic rebirth. The story of the 'stolen soul' finding a new home to build something real. We'll control the narrative by being the first to tell it."
"I'm on it," Min-young said, her expression determined. "The story of a hero, not a victim."
Jin, who had been listening silently to this whirlwind of activity being built around him, finally spoke. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the strategic planning with an undeniable firmness.
"No."
All eyes turned to him.
"I appreciate this," he said, looking around at the faces of his new teammates, his expression filled with a gratitude that was deep and real. "But you can't protect me by hiding me. You can't build a fortress around me and hope the enemy just gives up. That's not a victory. It's a cage."
He stood up, his posture straight and unyielding. He was no longer the broken idol, the lost soul. He was a man who had found a new reason to fight. "Don't make me invisible. If she is coming for me, I want to face her. Let her see me. Let her see that I'm not just surviving, I'm creating something better than ever before. My music… my work with Da-eun and Chae-rin… that will be my response. That is my shield."
His words shifted the dynamic of the room. He was not a passive asset to be protected; he was an active, willing participant in his own defense. His courage was infectious.
Yoo-jin looked at him, a sense of profound respect washing over him. Jin was right. Hiding him would be a mistake. They had to be his shield, not his bunker.
"Alright," Yoo-jin said, a new, more collaborative strategy forming. "We don't hide you. We amplify you. We make you so loud and so bright that her shadows can't touch you."
A new sense of unity solidified in the room, stronger than ever before. They were no longer a fractured group of individuals reacting to crises. They were a focused, cohesive unit, an army with a singular, protective mission. They were building a fortress around Jin, not of stone and steel, but of music, loyalty, and a shared, defiant purpose.