The peace that followed the Dawn was not silence.
It was too perfect.
Seo Jin first noticed it three weeks after the restoration.
The Core's hum—once a gentle background rhythm that sang faintly through the city—had evened out to flawless symmetry. It pulsed every three-point-two seconds. Never faster. Never slower. Not once did it falter, not once did it fluctuate.
At first, it seemed beautiful. Predictable. Safe.
But then came the disquiet—because nothing alive was ever that perfect.
---
He woke one morning to find the sunrise frozen halfway through its arc. The light shimmered midair like it had forgotten what to do next, before snapping suddenly back into motion.
It lasted less than a second. No one else noticed.
But Seo Jin did.
