The silence after the clone's death was short-lived.
For a heartbeat, the underground chamber seemed frozen — the grotesque body sprawled across the fractured tiles, steam still rising from its wounds, Lin's bloodied hand pressed against the floor for balance. Keller's ragged breathing filled the cavern, Min-joon sobbed quietly against the wall, and the world felt like it might collapse inward on them at any moment.
Then it did.
A low rumble reverberated through the chamber, so deep it felt like it came from the marrow of the earth itself. The walls pulsed with faint light, threads of crimson seeping through cracks in the stone. What had seemed like dormant machinery — forgotten relics of Jin's twisted empire — suddenly came alive.
"Shit," Keller muttered, pushing himself off the ground. "You just woke the whole damn place up."
