The world cracked quietly. In the lab's ruins, Kim Minjun stood amidst silence and ash, the air thick with ozone. Before him, the **Echo** pulsed-a gaping heart of the world calling to him with his own fear and guilt. He closed his eyes, and the darkness showed him **Sohyeon**'s face. Now, Sohyeon was just a ghost, and the cold bracelet on Minjun's wrist was a constant reminder of his failure. "I should have..." he whispered, and the rift mocked him, echoing his pain. Stepping into the light, Minjun wasn't seeking a path; he was seeking an end.

In another world, under a lead-colored sky, Lee Sohyeon sat in his lab, clutching a ring. The tiny **Stella** crystal was the only remaining spark of the man he had lost-Minjun, who vanished in a blaze. Sohyeon was left with memories and shadows, no longer trusting himself as hallucinations and whispers filled the darkness. "Will you come back?" he'd whisper.

Suddenly, the air trembled. Instruments screamed as the Stella crystal flared in his hand. Space compressed, and a figure was born within it. Sohyeon's heart pounded. He knew that face, that scar. **Minjun**. But the eyes held no warmth or hope, only a stranger's pain. In that moment, Sohyeon couldn't tell if he was seeing his love or a ghost.

The bunker was collapsing slowly. Arguments over rations, the gardeners' whispers about poor harvests, the tired gaze of Doctor Yoon.


"Will you find the answer, Seo-hyeon?" she asked him one evening. Her voice trembled, but her eyes were filled with hope.


He nodded, even though inside everything screamed: I couldn't even save him.


He returned to the laboratory. At that moment, an old sensor on the wall flickered. A red light. At first, Seo-hyeon thought it was a malfunction. But then the screen came to life, showing a surge of energy. Not a virus. Not an error. Something else.


He stepped closer. The ring on his finger suddenly flared brighter. The Stella lit up like a living star.


The air trembled. A low hum filled the room, as if the walls had begun to sing. Flashes of light reflected on the surface of the test tubes. The screen displayed the data: anomaly, a tear.


The light intensified, and Seo-hyeon took a step back, pressing the ring to his chest. It felt as if it were pulling him forward.


A crunching sound, like breaking glass. And in the radiance, he heard a voice.


The light grew stronger, spreading through the lab like a flame. The instruments flickered, the flasks rang with the vibration. Seo-hyeon pressed the ring to his chest, trying not to be blinded.


And then a silhouette emerged from the light. Tall, achingly familiar. The outline of shoulders, the line of a jaw, and—the eyes. Gray-green, glowing through the light.


"Seo-hyeon…" the voice echoed in his mind.


He lunged forward, his heart pounding like a drum. But at that moment, the radiance wavered, and the silhouette distorted, as if stretching towards him through cracked glass. Min-jun's face blurred, turning into an empty mask.


The lights in the lab went out. The equipment wailed an alarm. A message flashed on the screen:


Seo-hyeon stood frozen, feeling the Stella burning his finger. And he understood: this wasn't just a vision. Something—or someone—had truly responded.


Chapter 7 - Chapter 2.3: The Call of the Star