The first thing Seo Jin noticed was the silence.
Not the absence of sound—but a silence so deep it hummed, stretching across every atom in the air like the breath before creation.
Light rippled through the Core chamber, bending around him in slow, fluid waves. It wasn't just illumination anymore—it moved, alive and pulsing like it had veins of thought. The Core's walls, once smooth and metallic, now shimmered like liquid glass. Reality trembled as though struggling to decide what it wanted to be.
Li Ran's arms were still wrapped tightly around him. He hadn't let go. Not since Seo Jin came back.
"Hey," Li Ran murmured, voice hoarse. "You're… still with me, right?"
Seo Jin blinked, his pupils adjusting to the surreal brightness. "I think so," he whispered. "But… everything's different."
And it was.
The air tasted like static and salt. The ground beneath them was warm, humming faintly with rhythm—like a heart.
