POV: Kang Yejun
The police don't make it past the ground floor.
Yejun watches from the apartment window as Kaien walks downstairs wearing his power like armor. His silver eyes are glacial. His voice is quiet but absolute. By the time he returns ten minutes later, the police are gone. The warrant has been "reviewed by higher authorities." Somehow, inexplicably, it's been dismissed.
Yejun doesn't ask how. He's learning that billionaires move through the world differently than everyone else.
The drive to Kaien's penthouse takes twenty minutes. Haneul falls asleep between them, exhausted from fear and quantum travel. Yejun watches the city pass by and tries to process that his entire life just changed in the span of a few hours.
The building is impossible.
It's a tower of glass and steel rising above Seoul like a monument to wealth and power. The elevator opens directly into the penthouse. Yejun steps out and his breath catches.
The space is massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the Han River, the water reflecting streetlights like liquid stars. The furniture is minimal and expensive. Everything is clean and cold and perfect, except for the toys scattered in one corner and children's books stacked on a coffee table.
"Your room is down the hallway," Kaien says, his voice gentle despite what just happened downstairs. "Ji-woo stocked it with essentials."
Essentials turns out to be a bedroom bigger than his entire former apartment. The closet is fuller than his old wardrobe ever was. Designer clothes in his exact size. Shoes. Accessories. Everything a kept partner would need.
Yejun stands in the middle of the space and feels untethered from reality.
Haneul wakes as the sun sets. The child is hungry and clingy, still processing the police sirens and escape. Kaien carries him to the kitchen while Yejun explores, touching things carefully like they might break if he's not gentle enough.
"Do you cook?" Kaien asks.
Yejun nods. "Some. I worked at a café."
"Haneul mentioned you made pancakes in his timeline," Kaien says, his voice careful. "We have everything you need."
It's a test. Yejun understands that immediately. Kaien is testing whether Yejun will actually step into the role or just pretend. Whether this is performance or something real.
Yejun chooses real.
He makes pancakes from scratch. Searches for blueberries in the impossibly well-stocked kitchen. Finds them. Adds them to the batter. Haneul watches from a stool, his silver eyes getting brighter with each pancake that lands on the plate.
"Papa used to make these," Haneul whispers. "In my timeline. On Sunday mornings. Daddy would make coffee and Papa would make pancakes and we'd all eat together and it was the best thing ever."
Yejun's hands shake as he plates the food.
At the table, Haneul eats like he's tasting happiness for the first time in this timeline. His joy is so pure it breaks something in Yejun's chest. This child has lost everything twice and still believes in love. Still reaches for connection. Still hopes.
Kaien watches them from across the table. His expression is unreadable but his silver eyes are intense. Like he's memorizing this moment. Like he's trying to see if it matches the memories Haneul described from the other timeline.
Like he's falling.
After Haneul falls asleep in his new room (a space Kaien has already filled with books and toys and safety), Yejun steps onto the balcony overlooking the city.
The night air is cold. Seoul spreads below them like a circuit board of lights. Yejun can see the Han River from here. Can see the places where he used to walk. The café where he worked. The apartment where he almost didn't wake up.
He's been in this penthouse for four hours and it already feels more like home than anywhere else.
"Having regrets?" Kaien's voice comes from behind.
Yejun turns. Kaien is silhouetted against the interior light, silver hair gleaming. He looks like something from another timeline himself. Something too perfect to exist in this world.
"No," Yejun admits. "Just wondering what I've gotten myself into."
Kaien steps beside him, leaning against the railing. Their shoulders almost touch. "Me too," he says quietly.
The admission hangs between them. Neither of them realizes they're already falling. That the chemistry sparking between them isn't fake or forced. That somewhere between the impossible child and the handshake deal, they've started choosing each other for real.
"Yejun," Kaien says, and the way he says his name sounds like a question and a promise simultaneously.
Before Kaien can finish, his phone rings.
The caller ID shows: "Dr. Jung Taewon - URGENT."
Kaien's entire body goes rigid. He answers the call and listens for fifteen seconds without speaking. His face drains of color.
"When?" he asks, his voice dropping to ice. "Are you certain?"
Pause.
"How long has Ji-woo had access?"
Yejun's stomach drops.
Ji-woo is Kaien's assistant. The person who stocked his closet. The person who would know everything about his research and schedule.
Kaien hangs up and turns to face Yejun. His silver eyes are dangerous now. Not beautiful. Just dangerous.
"The details in Jihoon's live stream," Kaien says quietly. "The specific technical information about the quantum device. The exact description of the dimensional rift. Someone with intimate knowledge of my research provided that information."
"Who?" Yejun asks, though he already knows.
"My assistant. Ji-woo has been working with Jihoon for months. Feeding him information. Waiting for the right moment to expose everything." Kaien's fists clench. "He's been in my company for six years. I trusted him."
"Why would he—"
"Money," Kaien interrupts. "And something else. Jihoon apparently promised him something bigger. Something about Haneul."
The word hangs in the air like poison.
"What about Haneul?" Yejun asks, though his voice is barely a whisper.
Kaien's expression is grim. "According to Taewon, Ji-woo has been trying to access my private research on dimensional transport. He's been stealing my notes. My data. My entire body of work on how Haneul arrived."
"Why would Jihoon want—"
"Because if he can understand how Haneul got here, he can weaponize it," Kaien says flatly. "And if he can do that, he can control it. He can use it."
From inside the penthouse, they hear Haneul scream.
Not a nightmare scream. A terrified scream like something is hunting him.
Both of them run.
They find Haneul awake and trembling, pointing at his window. "He's coming! Papa, Daddy, he's coming through the rift! He's breaking through!"
Outside the penthouse window, impossible in the night sky, a tear is opening. Not small. Not subtle. A massive rift in reality itself is splitting open directly outside their building.
But this time, it's not blue light pouring through.
It's something darker.
Something that moves with intention and malice.
Something that's hunting.
And Yejun realizes with absolute certainty that whatever is coming through that rift isn't Haneul's past trying to catch up with him.
It's something that's been waiting for a way into this timeline.
Something that Jihoon has just invited in.
"Protect him," Kaien commands, already moving toward the window. "Get Haneul to the safe room. Now."
But before Yejun can move, the rift explodes outward.
And the scream that comes from it is so loud that windows shatter.
It sounds like something that exists between dimensions.
It sounds like something that's been hungry for a very long time.
And it sounds like it knows their names.