The cab pulled away from the mining site, wheels crunching over the gravel road as the night settled over the sky like cooled steel. Han Jaemin sank into the backseat, letting his spine ease into the torn leather as the air conditioning brushed across his damp neck. He wasn't smiling, but his chest felt a little lighter.

  A raid. Not conversion. Finally.

  He loosened the black wrap tied to his wrist and wiped the sweat from his brow, rolling his neck with a soft crack. His fingers hovered over the seat's armrest, then reached into his hoodie pocket for his phone.

  17% battery. Enough.

  Five unread messages blinked on the screen, all from Taeha.

  "Hi Hyung-nim :)"

  "How is life?"

  "Did you miss me Hyung-nim?"

  "I did :)"

  "Let's meet up soon... please, I've got something to say..."

  Jaemin's thumb hovered above the last message. It felt... off. Not the usual joking tone Taeha always wrote with. There was a hesitance in it, a subtle fragility that poked at Jaemin's instincts. But he just gave a thumbs-up emoji and locked the phone with a click. He leaned back, gazing out the window.

  The street lights passed in streaks of white, cutting through the tinted glass.

  "…Tomorrow, huh?"

  He mumbled to himself, eyes half-lidded as he watched the shapes of buildings blur by.

  Tier 3 unit. Strike team. Covenant-backed.

  It was going to be his first time joining an official assault party—not a merc-hired freelance run. He'd heard stories. Better gear. Better support. But also: higher pressure, sharper eyes, stricter protocol.

  "They just need a filler. Not expecting much from me."

  He told himself that, but the tension in his wrist wouldn't fade. He kept flexing it open and shut, feeling the faint warmth of his Core just beneath the surface. Still latent. Still sealed.

  One thing was clear, his job is not fighting, just a filler to meet the entry requirements.

  "Not hoping for something bad…

  "His eyes shifted, narrowing.

  "…but if things go haywire—I can help clean up the mess."

  He didn't smile. Not now. Not for something like that.

  Because the only time he'd allowed himself to step in was if the others couldn't.

  If they were injured. Bleeding. Screaming. Or already dead.

  And that was the last damn thing Jaemin wanted.

  *****

  The cab slowed at a light. A pack of kids crossed the street with bright lunchboxes and dirt-smeared jackets, laughing loudly and carefree. Jaemin's gaze followed them until they vanished down an alley. He blinked and looked forward again.

  Fifteen minutes till home. Twenty-four hours till the Rift.

  And somewhere in between, Yoon Taeha was waiting for an answer.

  "Becoming strong at the cost of lives is equivalent to getting strong for nothing."

  The thought haunted Jaemin like a stain that wouldn't wash off, clawing at the edges of his mind as he leaned back in the rattling cab. The city lights flickered against the window beside him, distorted by fatigue and the glimmer of sweat still clinging to his skin. His hand fumbled for the wallet in his hoodie pocket.

  "Keep the change,"

  He muttered to the driver, stepping out and letting the cab roll off into the night.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Now that he was going to his apartment, he was wondering why he didn't take the change...Damn.

  He dragged his feet up the concrete steps, one floor at a time, bones creaking under exhaustion he no longer had the strength to hide. His hoodie stuck to his back, soaked. His fingers were raw and stained from hours of compression work, heat-shaping rift dust into crystals — and his mind? Numb. Utterly fucking numb.

  ****

  Meanwhile… inside the Rift

  SLASH!

  SLASH!

  A final flurry of faint red sparks lit the fractured air as a clean, double strike split the Tier-2 Rift Boss in half.

  PLOP!

  Its husk fell and evaporated into auric steam before it even hit the Forest floor.

  Surprisingly, the rift boss chamber was a forest.

  Ha Yura landed with the same quiet grace she always had — no sound, no excess motion, like the world made room for her presence alone. She rolled her shoulder once, a silent crack echoing into the void, before taking three slow steps back.

  Step. Step. Step.

  And then she exited the rift. Just like that. The rift hissed behind her, closing in a pulse of fading light.

  Outside, the mining team foreman was stuffing the last of the packed core crates into the transport capsule, wiping his face with the back of his thick glove. He didn't hear her until—

  "Excuse me."

  A voice called out, clear and sharp.

  "HYUCK!"

  The man nearly dropped the crate, jerking around.

  "Y-Yes ma'am!!"

  "Ma'am?"

  Ha Yura tilted her head slightly, brows raised.

  "Please… don't call me that, sir. You're my elder."

  She gave him a soft, respectful bow. A humble one. It caught him entirely off guard.

  "Oh no no, please, I–I couldn't possibly,"

  The foreman stammered, bowing so hard he nearly hit the crate.

  "I just have a question."

  She said gently, brushing a lock of sweat-misted hair behind her ear.

  "Can I ask where…"

  She paused. Her eyes faltered, the words hesitating on her tongue like they were unfamiliar. The foreman blinked.

  "Yes, Ms. Ha?"

  He asked, more softly now.

  Her eyes lifted to meet his, unwavering.

  "…Do you know where Han Jaemin went?"

  The foreman let out a short breath of relief.

  "Ahhh, Mr. Big Pecs."

  He chuckled, rubbing his neck.

  "He left not too long ago — went home, I think."

  "Home…"

  Ha Yura echoed, lips parting slightly as she looked up at the night sky. It was late.

  Really late. The streets were dead quiet, and the moon hung crooked above the city.

  "Well… Ms. Ha, it's almost midnight, after all."

  The foreman added.

  "Right."

  She whispered, nodding.

  "Right, sorry. Please go ahead and finish up–"

  She halted mid-sentence, then turned back.

  "…Will he be here tomorrow?"

  She asked.

  The foreman nodded immediately.

  "Yeah. He's still on duty — helping the second team tomorrow inside the Rift, so he'll be back."

  "Perfect."

  She said.

  And that was all. No smile. No reason given. Just that single word.

  She offered another quiet bow, then turned on her heel and walked off toward the night — hair glinting under the overhead lights, vanishing with the same silence she'd entered with.

  The foreman stared after her.

  "…These kids, man."

  He muttered under his breath, cracking open a thermos of barley tea. "Something's brewing here...hehehe"

  *****

  Jaemin dropped onto the bed like a sack of bones, hoodie half off, hair sticking to his forehead from the cab ride. He hadn't even bothered turning on the lights. Just the faint blue of the Focus glimmered over his temple like a low-hung moon.

  [You have 1 unopened reward from Echo Rift.]

  "Huh?"

  Jaemin muttered, lifting his wrist to check. A box icon hovered lazily in the corner of his UI.

  [Would you like to open Synergy Box?]

  "…Synergy Burst-related?"

  He whispered.

  "I didn't even notice this."

  He tapped yes.

  SWISH!

  The box flickered and vanished into a swirl of code.

  FWWUIP—PING!

  His Focus ignited, casting soft circuits of light across the ceiling. Then came the ping.

  TING!

  [New Synergy Burst acquired!]

  [Paradigm Shift – (Compatible with a sword only).]

  "…Sword only?"

  Jaemin muttered, brow twitching.

  He sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes.

  "I don't even use swords. Not my thing."

  Though that wasn't true, not entirely. He could use them—hell, he'd outpaced instructors in drills before. But it never felt right. Daggers suited him. Quick. Close. Quiet. A sword was just... loud.

  He flopped back again.

  "So it gives me something I can't even use. Great."

  Silence.

  Then: click—Focus dimming down.

  Jaemin exhaled hard.

  "…Even if I show up for the raid, I need to be careful."

  He murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

  "They see one of the Resonants... It's over. Instant panic."

  He turned his head toward the dark window. Somewhere in the city, a rift had just closed.

  He could still feel the tremor in the air.

  "Gotta play it right."

  Jaemin shut his eyes.

  ****

  "Man…"

  Yoon Taeha sighed, struggling with the collar of a sleek, black, tailored shirt. He stood in front of the mirror, lips pursed, hair still a mess.

  "I'll never look cool like Hyung-nim…"

  "Why are you so obsessed with your 'Hyung-nim'?"

  Park Chaeyoung called out, sprawled lazily on his bed, flipping through a book.

  "Because he is cool."

  Taeha replied without missing a beat.

  "Understanding, calm, calculative…"

  Chaeyoung raised a brow.

  "Sounds like he really caught your eye."

  "And most importantly—he's my big brother."

  Taeha grinned, the admiration glowing from his face like a badge.

  Chaeyoung glanced up from her book. There was a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  "You know... I've seen the way your brothers talk. They're rotten from the inside out. But your 'Hyung-nim'—he saw something good in you, didn't he? Something the others didn't."

  Yoon Taeha's expression softened.

  "That's why I've been working out. Trying to look better, move sharply. I want to be the perfect helper for him. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough."

  "Well."

  Chaeyoung muttered, rolling over and planting her face into his pillow, "Judging by the way you talk about him, I think your Hyung-nim already sees you as enough."

  Taeha looked back at the mirror. The shirt wasn't sitting perfectly, and his hair still sucked. But for once, he didn't mind.

  "That's why Hyung-nim is so damn cool."