The rain sliced through the night, cold and sharp, like shattered glass against the pavement.
Shin Seori didn't flinch. Her eyes were fixed ahead, never blinking, as she clutched her baby brother to her chest. His breath was shallow, his tiny body shaking in her arms, muffled beneath the heavy folds of her coat. Every step sent pain shooting through her legs, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Not when everything she knew had crumbled into flames behind her.
The lab was gone. Her father's life extinguished in the fire that painted the night sky in angry streaks of orange. Her mother-she never made it out.
"Run. Go to your uncle. Never come back here leave the country. Never trust Seo Do-kyun or Ryu In-ho..."
Her mother's voice echoed in Seori's mind, a fading whisper carried on the wind. She could still feel her mother's blood on her hands, could still feel the weight of the sealed black envelope pressed into her palms.
Inside it was the key to everything. Project EonShield. The secret her father had died to protect. The code that could either save the world-or destroy it.
Seori's fingers curled around the envelope, her chest tightening as she pushed her legs to keep moving. There was no time to think about what had just happened. There was only the cold weight of survival pressing against her ribs, and the baby brother whose life she now carried in her hands.
She didn't cry. Not yet.
There was no room for tears, not when the world had just fractured, leaving her alone in the dark.
No home. No family. Just an envelope with a secret and a name that could either give her strength or seal her fate. A name no one knew yet.
The fire had swallowed everything. Everyone believed she and her brother had perished along with their parents in the blaze. No one would know the truth. Not yet.
Seori reached into her coat pocket, her fingers trembling as she retrieved her phone. With shaking hands, she dialed the only number she had memorized-the number her mother had given her, though she'd never met him.
The phone rang once. Twice. Then, the line clicked as an unfamiliar voice answered.
"Hello?" the voice asked, uncertain.
Seori's heart raced. She could barely breathe. "Uncle," she whispered, voice shuddering with cold and fear.
A beat of silence passed, and then the voice came back, gruff and confused. "Who is this?"
"It's... Seori," she said, trying to steady her voice. "I need help. Please, I... I don't know where else to go."
There was a pause, as the man on the other end seemed to process her words. "Seori?" His tone changed, now tinged with recognition, though still distant. "What happened? What's going on?"
Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she pushed them away. "The fire... My parents... they didn't survive. My brother and I-we're alone."
Her voice broke, and she took a shaky breath. "It wasn't an accident. They-Seo Do-kyun and Ryu In-ho-killed my father. My mother... she... she didn't make it out either. Please, Uncle... please help us."
There was a long silence on the other end, and Seori held her breath, afraid he might hang up. Finally, the voice spoke again, cold and measured.
"Stay safe. I'll send someone to get you."
Before she could respond, the call abruptly ended
What Seori didn't know was that her call had been placed on speakerphone. Unbeknownst to her, her grandfather had been in the room, and every word she spoke rang through the silence like a devastating bomb.
The moment Seori's voice faded from the phone, her grandfather's hands trembled as they clutched the edge of the table. His face, usually calm and composed, contorted with panic. He stared at the phone, breath caught in his throat, the weight of what he had just heard sinking in like lead.
He ran a hand over his face, struggling to remain steady. "God... please. Watch over them. Keep them safe. Don't let anything happen to my grandchildren."
A silence settled in the room, thick with unspoken grief and desperate hope.