After the monster's death, silence settled over the streets like heavy fog.
Every door was shut, every window locked. The town was still trembling from what had happened at the lab.
Inside the dim house, Rian sat alone at the small dining table. Tears slipped down his face as memories surfaced against his will.
"Rian, eat before school."
Her voice.
He could almost see her by the stove, the faint smile she always wore.
"What did you make, Grandma?"
"Sweet mushroom soup. Your favorite."
His chest tightened.
The house felt hollow now, stripped of warmth, like something essential had been torn out.
Yurim sat beside him in silence, unsure how to reach him. At last, she placed her hand gently over his.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "If I'd held on tighter… maybe—"
Rian didn't look up.
"I don't think she jumped on her own," Yurim continued softly. "On the rooftop, she was whispering.
Like she was answering someone. Something felt wrong."
Rian's jaw clenched. The memory burned behind his eyes.
"Maybe the room she used to lock—" Yurim began.
"Stop."
Rian slammed his hand against the table. His voice shook, raw with grief.
"Just stop talking. Get out."
Yurim froze. Her eyes filled, but she said nothing. She stood and quietly left.
–––
Hours later, Rian woke with a sharp breath, his grandmother's voice fading from his nightmare.
His shirt clung to his skin, damp with sweat.
Morning light filled the room.
Yurim was gone.
Guilt settled heavy in his chest — but the dream lingered, too vivid to ignore. It felt less like memory… and more like a warning.
He stood, steadying himself, and walked toward the door his grandmother never allowed him to open.
Elsewhere, at the ruined laboratory, investigators cleared the wreckage.
Beneath the debris, they found one surviving scientist — battered, shaking, barely alive. When asked what happened, he couldn't answer. He only stared, eyes wide with terror.
Back at the house, Rian's fingers closed around the doorknob of the secret room.
Knock. Knock.
He froze.
Someone was at the door.