The chamber still hummed with the echo of what had just unfolded. Lin stood in the middle of the ruined platform, his chest heaving, his knuckles bloodied, and the copper taste of rage heavy in his mouth. The corpse of the failed clone — twisted, broken, and finally silenced — lay at his feet, yet its presence lingered in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate.
Keller stood to one side, holding Min-joon upright. The boy's eyes were wide, unfocused, darting between Lin and the shadows along the walls. He had screamed during the final moments of the fight, and now his voice was gone, reduced to small rasping gasps.
But it was Lin's silence that unsettled the room more than anything else. He didn't move for what felt like minutes, the only sound the slow drip of blood from his hand onto the cold steel floor.
Finally, Keller broke the tension.
"You're bleeding." His voice was calm but strained, like a rope about to snap.
