He wasn't supposed to be here. The last thing he remembered was Haru's tear-filled eyes, the warmth of blood on his tongue, the pain like fire ripping through his chest. His heartbeat slowing. The sound of his own death.
But he was here. Breathing. Alive.
And the world was still whole.
For a long moment, Jisoo stood frozen. His instincts—those same instincts that had kept him alive for so long—were screaming that this was real. The danger hadn't vanished. It had just… not happened yet.
He turned away from the window. His hands were already moving on their own, pulling his old go-bag from under the bed, checking supplies. Extra batteries. Tools. Water purification tablets. He needed to be ready, no matter how insane this was.
He packed with mechanical efficiency until something stopped him mid-motion.
There, by the door, stood a boy.
He was maybe ten years old, but unlike Haru's soft, dark features, this boy had golden hair so bright it looked like sunlight had threaded itself into every strand. His eyes were a piercing green—unnaturally vivid, like polished emeralds that could see straight through a person.
And he was smiling.
"You're awake," the boy said. His voice was light, almost cheerful, but carried an undertone that felt… older. Too old for his face.
Jisoo's hand slid toward the knife on the counter. "Who are you?"
"I'm the System," the boy said simply, as though that explained everything. "The Monster System, to be exact. And you're the seventh chosen."
Jisoo's brow furrowed. His instincts weren't flagging this boy as immediate danger, but the whole thing reeked of the unnatural. "Chosen for what?"
"To save this world," the boy answered.
Jisoo's grip on the knife tightened. "…You're going to need to explain that."
The boy stepped closer, bare feet silent against the floor. "This world—what you think of as your reality—isn't real. It's an altered future. A fragment of what's to come in another world entirely."
Jisoo stared at him. "…You're saying my whole life isn't real?"
The boy tilted his head. "It's real to you. It's real enough to hurt. But it's still a splinter—a branch that grew from a disaster in the true world. In that world, humans created me—the Monster System—to protect what was left."
"Protect it from what?"
The boy's smile faded for the first time. "From the things that will take the sun from the sky. The things that will strip away your humanity, piece by piece. Monsters born from both outside and inside the human race."
Jisoo felt a chill run down his spine. He didn't need the boy to paint the picture—he'd already seen the result.
"The Monster System," the boy continued, "was built to choose warriors from both the altered worlds and the original. Twelve Protectors. And two Saviors."
"Two?" Jisoo asked.
"Yes. One Savior from each side. You," the boy said, pointing at him, "are the first Savior chosen from the altered world. I am tasked with finding the second Savior from the original. Together, you'll lead the Protectors."
Jisoo narrowed his eyes. "And these Protectors?"
"They are fighters chosen for their strength, adaptability, and… survivability." The boy's green eyes glittered. "From your side, six will be selected. Six from the original. Twelve total."
Jisoo glanced away, absorbing the words. A part of him wanted to dismiss it as a bizarre dream. But his instincts—the same ones that had screamed at him when the sun dimmed, when monsters were near—told him this boy was telling the truth.
The boy—System—took another step closer. "Once we find them, the first task will be issued. And the countdown will begin."
Jisoo's gaze snapped back to him. "Countdown?"
"Yes."
"To what?"
"To the moment this world either merges back with the original… or ceases to exist entirely."
The words landed like cold steel in his gut. "So if we fail—"
"—this world ends. Everyone in it disappears."
The room felt suddenly smaller. The bright sunlight outside seemed too bright, too fragile.
Jisoo's voice was quieter now. "Why me?"
"You've survived things no one else did," the boy said without hesitation. "You prepare before others notice danger. You act before others accept the truth. You're exactly the kind of mind that can adapt to what's coming."
Jisoo didn't reply immediately. He was remembering Haru's quiet bravery. The way he'd told Jisoo to run. The way his small voice had stayed steady even as death was closing in.
"…If I agree," Jisoo said finally, "what happens next?"
The boy's green eyes lit up again. "We start searching. The six Protectors from your side are already alive somewhere in this world. Some of them will come willingly. Others… will have to be convinced."
"And the other Savior?"
The boy's smile returned. "That's my problem to solve."
Jisoo studied him for a long moment. "You still haven't told me why you look like a kid."
The boy shrugged. "You trust children more than strangers in suits."
Jisoo snorted faintly despite himself.
But the humor faded quickly. His hands tightened on the straps of his go-bag. "Fine. I'll play along—for now. But if you're lying—"
"I don't lie," the boy interrupted. "I can't. I'm a system."
Jisoo didn't answer. He just slung the bag over his shoulder and began moving through the apartment, finishing his packing with sharper precision. Food. Water. Weapons. Tools. He didn't know where they'd be going next, but he wouldn't be caught unprepared. Not again.
When he glanced back toward the doorway, the boy was still there, watching him with that strange mix of innocence and calculation.
Somewhere deep in Jisoo's gut, he felt the faint echo of what his instincts were telling him: this boy was dangerous—but maybe not to him. Not yet.
And if what the boy said was true, the apocalypse wasn't the end.
It was only the beginning
The city was still awake.People walked the sidewalks without fear, street vendors called out their prices, and the sun still poured warmth down in wide, careless strokes. It was almost surreal to Kim Jisoo. He kept waiting for the air to grow heavy, for the light to falter—waiting for the signs he knew would come.
Instead, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
When he turned, the first thing he saw was a sweep of black hair. The girl looked like she'd stepped out of a school uniform catalog—except for the fresh cuts on her cheek and brow. Her white shirt was torn at the sleeve, a faint line of blood staining the fabric. Her skirt was scuffed, shoes muddied.
She didn't flinch when his gaze met hers.
If anything, she looked at him like he was just another obstacle in a long day she'd already survived through gritted teeth.
The System, walking beside Jisoo, tapped his arm. "Protector."
Jisoo blinked at him. "Her?"
"Yes."
Jisoo's eyes slid back to the girl. She was maybe seventeen, eighteen at most, with an expression that was more knife than smile. She was beautiful, but it was the dangerous kind—like something carved from glass and left with jagged edges.
She didn't approach. She didn't speak. She just stood there, assessing him with the same cold precision he was using on her.
Jisoo looked away first. He didn't like staring at people longer than necessary, and he sure as hell didn't like strangers deciding they knew something about him.
"We're not… recruiting right now," he muttered to the System, starting to walk again.
The boy just tilted his head. "You're supposed to lead them."
"I'll lead when I have to. Right now, I'm not walking up to some injured stranger in the middle of the street and asking if she wants to save the world."
The System's green eyes held something that might have been amusement. "You're really bad at social interaction."
Jisoo didn't answer.
They walked for nearly an hour, weaving through streets Jisoo had memorized years ago. The city's pulse felt different to him now—not because it had changed, but because he had. Every passerby was a possible future threat. Every alley was a place a monster could appear when the dimming began.
And through all of it, the girl followed.
She kept her distance, maybe ten meters behind, never saying a word. But she didn't leave. Even when Jisoo turned corners abruptly or crossed the street without warning, she matched his movements.
"You're being tailed," the System said casually.
"I know," Jisoo muttered.
"Going to do anything about it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she's not attacking."
The boy hummed as if this was a curious answer.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the industrial district, the streets had thinned. Jisoo kept his knife in his pocket, thumb brushing the hilt out of habit. The lab was close now.
When the gates finally came into view—rusted metal hiding the hidden security system beneath—Jisoo slowed. His chest felt tight.
He hadn't been back here in this time. But the memories from the other… life… were vivid. The sound of alarms. The feel of Haru's small frame pressed against him as they ran.
The room Haru had stayed in was down two flights of stairs, past the main security lock. The image of it was so sharp in his mind that Jisoo could almost see the toys scattered on the floor, the small bed he'd set up just in case.
He pushed the thought away.
The gates slid open after a coded sequence on the hidden panel. The System followed him in without hesitation, hands folded behind his back like he was touring a museum.
Behind them, the girl with black hair stepped through as if she'd been invited.
Jisoo turned. "You're not supposed to be here."
Her voice was flat when she answered. "You didn't tell me to leave."
The System grinned. "See? She's already loyal."
Jisoo ignored him, walking ahead and keying open the secondary door. The familiar scent of the lab—cool metal, filtered air, faint tang of machine oil—washed over him.
It felt both safe and suffocating.
They passed the main hall and descended into the deeper sections. As they moved, Jisoo's gaze caught on a side door—familiar, worn, paint slightly peeling.
Haru's room.
His steps slowed, but only for a fraction of a second. Then he kept going.
The System, noticing, said nothing. But his eyes flickered in quiet observation.
Inside the central chamber, Jisoo dropped his bag onto a table and started unpacking equipment. The girl leaned casually against the wall, her expression still unreadable.
"You followed us all the way here," Jisoo said finally, not looking up. "Why?"
"Because I'm not safe out there," she said. "And you… don't look easy to kill."
The answer made the System chuckle. "Told you she was a Protector."
Jisoo didn't respond. He was busy slotting new power cells into the workbench interface, running a quick diagnostic on the lab's environmental controls.
The girl didn't move from her place by the wall. She didn't fidget, didn't glance around curiously like most people would in a high-tech lab. She just… stayed. Watching.
It made the air feel heavier, though Jisoo would never admit it.