The room was quiet. The kind of calm that makes the air feel heavier. Inside Director Gyeongnim's office, only the ticking of a wall clock filled the silence between them. Jaemin sat by the glass table, flipping slowly through a thin file folder.
"The Lapis Chamber's inside will be almost dead."
Gyeongnim said, not looking up. He was focused on a screen showing a rotating 3D model of the chamber, blueprints stacked beside him, layered in aura traces and Rift data.
"Abyssal presence is minimal. What remains is residue… and dark energy."
"Yeah, but what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"
Jaemin asked, eyes fixed on a chart showing energy spikes.
"A trace? A voice message? A scrap of armour? What?"
Gyeongnim tapped a finger on the tablet.
"Core fragment readings. If even one of those five Coreborn left an energy imprint inside, you'll find it. If not...they're gone. For good."
Jaemin leaned back, expression unreadable.
"This whole story doesn't sit right."
"I figured you'd say that."
Gyeongnim replied.
"It doesn't make sense," Jaemin said.
"Five elite Coreborn vanish into a sealed chamber, with no signature, no corpse, nothing?, It's baseless."
"Not everything has to make sense."
Gyeongnim said.
"Rifts don't follow logic. Neither do residual chambers like this."
Jaemin stared blankly at the documents, then finally shut the folder.
"I'm going in alone. End of story."
"That's exactly the problem."
Gyeongnim said.
"This isn't a normal Rift. The chamber reacts to Coreborn signatures.
If I come along, we can double the analysis and double the chance of—"
"No."
Jaemin cut him off.
The room got colder with that one sentence.
Jaemin didn't raise his voice, but his tone was final.
"You even being near the Lapis Chamber is going to tip someone off. Haseok's watching every step. You go in with me, and neither of us gets anything."
Gyeongnim stayed silent, face unreadable, arms slowly crossing. Jaemin stood up and paced near the window.
"You want results?"
Jaemin continued.
"Let me do this on my own. You've already handed me the tools. The location. The permission. All that's left is the execution."
Gyeongnim tilted his head, eyes narrowed.
"Then let's make a deal."
Jaemin paused.
"If you uncover anything meaningful within the first forty minutes...I'll back off. I won't step inside. I'll leave it to you, no questions asked."
"And if I fail?"
Jaemin asked.
"Then I go in myself."
Gyeongnim said, without missing a beat.
"I'll do it my way. You'll step aside and stay out of it."
The clock ticked again. Jaemin weighed it. He didn't like it. But he knew it was the only way to stop Gyeongnim from interfering.
"You do realise we're depending on this one chance to uncover the mystery."
Gyeongnim said, his voice low, leaning forward with calm intensity. "Sometimes, gambles are all we have."
Jaemin crossed his arms, jaw clenched.
"And if that gamble costs you your life? Or worse, gets you caught tampering inside a classified site—you'll be targeted by Aether Crest directly."
Gyeongnim didn't flinch.
"I don't care."
He said, voice unwavering.
"I've lived long enough either way. What I care about...is the truth getting out."
He said it with a soft smile. Not dramatic. Not emotional. Just...settled. As if he had already made peace with it.
That smile hit Jaemin harder than he expected.
This was the same man who paid four months of his mother's hospital bills without ever asking for thanks. Who put in a word when no one else vouched for him? Who gave him files, permissions, and just enough space to move in a world that wanted him out?
And now he was ready to throw himself into a sealed chamber, no one returned?
All for the truth?
Jaemin lowered his gaze, fists loosely tightening.
"You're willing to throw your life away over a bet?"
"I'm not throwing it away."
Gyeongnim said.
"I'm investing it in the one person I trust to make it worth something."
There it was again—calm. Measured. Not a trace of fear.
And yet, Jaemin didn't want to lose someone like this. Not someone who gave without asking. Not someone who still had so much more to give.
But no matter how much he argued, Gyeongnim didn't budge. His eyes stayed locked, resolute.
He wasn't asking for permission.
He was letting Jaemin know:
If you fail, I'm going in. No matter what.
And Jaemin had no choice now...
But to succeed.
"Here's what we do then."
Gyeongnim said suddenly, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips.
"Let's place a bet."
Jaemin narrowed his eyes.
"A bet?"
"Yes. I'll give you forty minutes."
Gyeongnim said, lacing his fingers together.
"Once you're inside the Lapis Chamber, you need to uncover the truth—everything—within that time. The chamber might be dead, dark, and cursed, but it's not massive. You have room. You have time."
Jaemin didn't say anything. He just listened.
"If you manage to find—whatever it is—you win. I stay out. No interference. No breach. But…"
Gyeongnim leaned back in his chair, voice colder now.
"If forty minutes pass and you come back empty-handed, I'm going in. No negotiations."
Jaemin stared at him, unmoving.
It was a reckless proposition. A childish condition, if framed lightly. But with Gyeongnim, there was always calculation behind everything. This wasn't for fun. It was the only way to draw a line between compromise and catastrophe.
"...Alright then."
Jaemin finally said, standing from his chair.
"But if I win, you stay out of it for good. No secret entries, no backdoor access, no Haseok-level gambits."
"I'll hold my end."
Gyeongnim replied with a nod.
Jaemin glanced back once before walking to the door.
"I hope you stay true to your part."
And with that, the door shut behind him, quietly, but heavily.
The clock had already begun ticking.
****
As Jaemin reached the front gates of his apartment building, the old security guard called out, waving him down.
"Mr. Han! Someone dropped this off for you."
The ajusshi said, handing him a thin, rectangular paper box—almost weightless.
Jaemin took it with a small furrow between his brows.
"Who's it from?"
"Didn't say." the guard replied.
"Just a man in a black suit. Neat, proper, didn't even wait after giving it to me. Told me to hand it to you directly, then left."
"Hm."
Jaemin hummed, his voice low in thought. He wasn't surprised by strange deliveries anymore, but this one... had timing.
"Anyway, thank you, ahjussi."
He said with a respectful smile before heading inside.
The apartment was quiet when he stepped in. Nari wasn't back yet, even though the sky outside was beginning to bruise into evening hues. Probably one of those late-night practicals at her university again. She'd text him later, she always did.
He dropped his bag and made his way straight to his room, still holding the box in one hand. The moment he sat down at his desk, he placed it carefully on the wooden surface and examined it again—no logo, no address.
Just paper and tape.
Jaemin peeled it open, not even needing scissors. The box unfolded with ease.
Inside, there were three letters, folded neatly. Handwritten. Along with a short note on top, marked with the signature black-and-gold crest of Aether Crest:
Hello Mr. Han, Since the information I wish to share with you is confidential, I've taken the privilege of writing it in letters rather than using email or phone. Sometimes, even technology can't be trusted.
—Kwon Haseok
Jaemin leaned back in his chair, staring at the first envelope.
Kwon Haseok. Handwritten. Confidential.
He slid the first letter out.
Something told him... this was going to change everything.
Jaemin slid the crisp envelope open, unfolding the first letter carefully. The paper was thick, official, handwritten in neat, sharp strokes.
He began to read.
First and foremost, I'd like to inform you that you have been granted permission to enter the Lapis Chamber.
This being said, any new information you find shall be submitted directly to us and not disclosed to the public.
Consider this both a request and a form of compensation. A payment, if you will, for the exclusive access you've been granted.
You are to enter and exit alone.
No security camera. No earpiece. No phones. No technology.
And most importantly...
No Director Gyeongnim.
Jaemin's eyes froze on that last line.
No Gyeongnim.
He slowly let the letter lower from his eyes as his mind shifted into silence.
The room around him stayed still. Only the fading glow of evening bled through the blinds, casting long shadows across the table.
He tapped the paper lightly on the wood.
Was Haseok trying to help him? Or control him?
Either way, the conditions were clear.
And Gyeongnim... was not trusted by more than just one man.
Jaemin looked back down at the unopened second and third letters.
"Alright."
He muttered.
Then picked up the second one.
Jaemin carefully unfolded the second letter, its seal slightly heavier than the last.
The handwriting was still the same—precise, calm… but this time, it felt like the words carried more weight.
I'd like to share something about Director Gyeongnim now that I have a little freedom from the eyes of others.
Director Gyeongnim is a formidable ally. He has earned my deepest respect.
But he is… controlling. To a fault. And even more so when information is withheld from him.
I do not harbour a personal interest in suppressing knowledge. But the Lapis Chamber—It is a question mark even to us.
Its origin. Its function. It's rules. It's reality.
We have theories. But no truths.
And if even a fraction of those theories—no matter how twisted—made it into public hands…
It would not take long before fantasy becomes fear. And fear, in this nation, spreads like wildfire.
Jaemin's hand stopped midway as he absorbed the line.
He sat back in his chair.
Gyeongnim. Respected. Feared. Controlled.
And the Lapis Chamber… not a secret weapon, not a trap—but a variable.
A black hole of uncertainty.
He could feel the anxiety pressing against his ribs now, silent but heavy.
This wasn't just about five lost Coreborn anymore.
He reached for the final envelope.
Jaemin exhaled as he reached for the last letter.
The paper was thicker than the previous two—almost formal, ceremonial. He unfolded it slowly.
My last thoughts that I wish to communicate with you are simple: You will be watched.
Our eyes will follow your movements through the chamber. We will not interfere—not unless you break the rules.
If you meddle, if you tamper, if you violate even a single clause of our agreement... we will pull you out. Instantly.
That is not a threat. That is protocol.
On a personal note, Jaemin—
You survived a rift incident that would've shattered the mind of even a seasoned Coreborn. Yet here you are, walking into a place none of us has dared enter.
You are brave. But remember—no secret is worth your life.
Your mission will be a success if you uncover something meaningful. But ours… is only a success if you walk out of that chamber alive.
With or without answers.
Sincerely,
Kwon Haseok, President, Aether Crest Division.
Coreborn Association, Korea
Jaemin let the letter fall gently onto the table.
The room was quiet.
He looked out the window, moonlight cutting clean lines through the glass.
Was this warning… or a farewell?
Either way, he was ready.
Tomorrow, he enters the Lapis Chamber.
Alone.