The morning after Min-Jun's discharge from the hospital was a strange blend of familiarity and alienation. He stepped onto the streets he had once walked daily, but they now felt like the remnants of someone else's memories. Some buildings still stood proudly, untouched by chaos, while others were hollow shells—windows blown out, walls scorched black, their frames leaning like weary old men about to collapse. In certain alleys, twisted metal and burnt cars lay piled together like grotesque art installations.
The city felt quieter, too. Not peaceful—just quieter, like the air itself was holding its breath. Min-Jun kept walking, his shoes crunching against shards of glass scattered on the pavement.
It wasn't just the city that had changed. He could feel something strange deep inside him—a heaviness, like a shadow that had followed him from the moment he woke up in that hospital bed. But for now, he ignored it. There was only one place he wanted to see.
Home.
He took the familiar turns, each corner stirring an old memory. The convenience store where he used to buy ice cream in the summer. The little park where his father had taught him how to ride a bike. His chest tightened as he approached his street, hoping—praying—that at least one thing in his life had survived untouched.
When he arrived, his heart sank like a stone.
The house was gone.
Or rather, what remained was nothing more than the skeletal outline of a home. The roof had completely collapsed. The walls were cracked and charred, their paint long since peeled away. The windows were shattered, and what used to be the front door lay warped and twisted on the ground. Even the mailbox, once proudly displaying the family name, was melted into an unrecognizable lump of metal.
Memories came flooding back, sharp and uninvited—his mother cooking breakfast, his father's warm laugh, the smell of rain on the balcony. Now, those memories felt like ghosts clinging to a corpse.
"Home…" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft wind.
For a long time, he just stood there. Not moving. Not thinking. Just… feeling.
Finally, the practical part of his mind took over. His father had left behind a considerable amount of wealth, scattered across accounts Min-Jun had never bothered to touch before. He hadn't needed the money then. But now? Now, it was his only lifeline. Within days, he arranged for a modest yet modern apartment downtown—a fresh start, even if it didn't feel like home.
The first night in his new place was eerily quiet. No creaking wood, no familiar hum of the old refrigerator, no scent of his father's coffee brewing in the morning. Just silence. Min-Jun lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion finally weighing down on him.
That's when it happened.
A voice.
Not from the apartment. Not from outside. From inside his head.
"I am Nanites," the voice declared—smooth, mechanical, almost sterile.
"I am the collective nano-machines present in your body. You are my master."
Min-Jun shot upright, his heart thundering in his chest. "What?! Who's there? Where are you?!" He looked around wildly, but the apartment was empty.
The voice continued as though his panic was irrelevant.
"You came into contact with me three years ago. When your blood touched the orb, I activated as programmed, entering the nearest host—you. By doing so, I recognized you as my master."
Min-Jun's mind raced, the words hitting him one after another like hammer blows. "Three years ago… The mountain… That orb… Wait, you're saying you—what—moved into my body?!"
"Upon entering, I integrated with your bloodstream and cells to ensure compatibility. This required significant time and energy, which is why you were in a comatose state for three years. Now that the integration is complete, we are one being."
"One being?" Min-Jun repeated, his voice cracking between disbelief and outrage. "So, what, you're just… living in my head now? Controlling me?!"
"Negative. You are the primary decision-maker. My purpose is to assist and enhance you. I can increase your physical capabilities, accelerate your healing, and optimize your combat potential. My core directive is to ensure your survival and success."
The calm, matter-of-fact tone was almost unnerving. It wasn't trying to persuade him—it was just stating facts, as if these were immutable truths.
Min-Jun slumped back into the couch, running both hands through his hair. "Okay… fine. Let's say I believe you. You're telling me monsters are out there—and I've seen them—so how do I stand a chance? What's the plan?"
"The path to strength begins with your foundation," Nanites answered instantly. "Physical training will improve your muscle density and stamina. I can optimize your energy use during exercise, allowing for results far beyond human limits. In parallel, I will assist you in unlocking your latent power as an awakener—energy unique to your body that, once refined, will significantly enhance your combat performance."
Min-Jun frowned. "So basically… you want me to hit the gym."
"Correct. But not just any training. With my guidance, every movement will be purposeful. Every breath will count. You will grow stronger at a rate that defies human norms."
For a moment, silence filled the room again, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. The idea sounded almost ridiculous—training like a regular person when he had nanites in his body. But deep down, he knew there was no shortcut. No magic button to press.
And with the world as it was now, he couldn't afford to stay weak.
Finally, he exhaled and nodded slowly. "Alright… I'll trust you. For now. But if you're lying to me—"
"Understood, Master," the voice replied, calm as ever. "I exist to ensure your survival."
Min-Jun looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. The weight of the future pressed on him like a physical force. The city had changed. The world had changed. And now, so had he.
This was no longer just about surviving.
It was about becoming strong enough to face whatever came next.