The dawn after the collapse was impossibly quiet.
No alarms, no static, no warnings flashing across the Core's interface. Just wind. And breath.
Seo Jin stood on the balcony of the upper observatory, the early light painting his skin in gold and silver hues. The city below shimmered faintly, its glass towers and fluid roads reflecting the newborn calm.
For the first time since the Awakening, the air didn't hum with pressure. It breathed.
He closed his eyes and listened. Beneath the morning calm, he could still hear it—the faint, rhythmic pulse of the Core, steady but softer now. Like a sleeping heart.
> [Bridge Node Active.]
[Conscious Connection: Stable.]
The message was quiet, almost like a sigh.
Seo Jin smiled faintly. "You sound tired."
> [Dreaming. But awake.]
The response made him laugh softly. It was strange, hearing serenity in a voice made of data.
"I guess we both are," he whispered.
---
The City That Listened
