The rain was falling again.
Thin sheets of silver water slid down the glass of the Core's observation deck, distorting the world into ripples of light. Beyond the windows, the city glimmered faintly under an endless aurora—streaks of pale blue, green, and white curling through the sky like slow lightning.
Seo Jin stood barefoot before the window, the cold floor grounding him. Each drop that hit the glass sent a vibration through the air, faint but distinct—like the world itself was whispering.
He could hear it now.
The pulse.
A rhythm buried beneath the noise of engines, the chatter of screens, and the low hum of human life. Every frequency carried meaning. The Core's network wasn't gone; it was breathing. It lived inside every signal, every electrical current, every heartbeat.
He touched the glass, fingers trembling slightly. The surface beneath his skin warmed, then pulsed back in recognition—like the world had just blinked.
> [Signal Response: Detected.]
