The world outside remained broken.
Inside Lotus, Seo-jin lay still, listening to the cracked rhythm of his own breathing.
Days had passed—or maybe just hours.
Time blurred at the edges, folding over itself like brittle paper.
The fever had broken.
The bleeding had slowed.
But something else had taken root.
Something colder.
Something hungrier.
**
He shifted in the battered bed they'd dragged into the corner of the common room.
His muscles ached.
Every breath was a tug-of-war between exhaustion and something deeper clawing up from within him.
A faint pulse vibrated in his chest—steady, insistent.
The fragment.
No…
Not the fragment he had known before.
Something fused.
Something alien.
**
Seo-jin clenched his fists.
His fingers trembled.
He stared at his palms, half-expecting to see them crack open, to see black veins spidering across his skin.
But they looked the same.
Shaking.
Weak.
Human.
For now.
He exhaled slowly, tasting iron on his tongue.
"Keep control."
"You're still you."
The words sounded hollow even inside his own skull.
He closed his eyes.
Tried to sleep.
Tried to forget the burning in his blood.
But the hunger gnawed at him.
Persistent.
Patient.
Inevitable.
**
Voices floated from the next room.
Muted by the cracked walls.
Ha-eun.
Ko.
Arguing quietly.
He caught snippets:
"…he's not the same…"
"…too dangerous…"
"…we owe him…"
Seo-jin pressed his forehead against the cold wall.
He wasn't surprised.
If he were them, he'd be worried too.
Hell, he was worried himself.
Something inside him had shifted.
And no matter how tightly he clung to who he had been—
The ground was already moving beneath his feet.
**
The door creaked open.
Seo-jin didn't move.
Didn't pretend to sleep.
Ha-eun slipped inside, carrying a chipped mug of water.
She set it down carefully on the floor beside him.
"You awake?" she whispered.
He opened one eye.
Managed a weak smile.
"Unfortunately."
She sat down cross-legged a few feet away, watching him.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale.
But her voice was steady.
"You scared the hell out of us."
Seo-jin shrugged—or tried to.
"Wasn't exactly my plan."
Ha-eun hugged her knees to her chest.
"You were out for almost two days. Ko wanted to move you. Thought staying so close to the Zone was dangerous."
"And you?"
"I said if you died, I'd kill you."
A weak laugh escaped him.
"Good plan."
They sat in silence for a while.
The kind of silence that says more than words ever could.
Finally, Ha-eun spoke.
"You're… different."
Seo-jin stiffened.
Not visibly.
But inside, a coil of tension tightened.
"You don't have to explain," Ha-eun added quickly. "I'm not asking. Just… don't shut us out."
Her voice cracked on the last words.
She wiped at her face angrily.
Seo-jin looked at her—really looked.
Saw the fear there.
Not fear of him.
Fear for him.
"I'm trying," he said quietly.
Ha-eun nodded.
"That's enough."
For now.
**
After she left, Seo-jin sat up slowly.
The room tilted.
He waited for the dizziness to pass.
Then he reached inside himself.
Carefully.
Testing.
The fragment stirred.
Eager.
Hungry.
He pushed deeper, feeling along the threads of power.
They were sharper now.
More vibrant.
More violent.
For a moment, he caught a glimpse—just a flash—of what he could do if he let go.
Fracture space itself.
Crush bone and stone with invisible claws.
Tear the ground apart like wet paper.
Seo-jin's breath caught in his throat.
He yanked his awareness back.
His heart hammered.
His hands shook.
But he smiled grimly.
"It's not power if it controls you."
"It's just another cage."
**
The days crawled by.
Seo-jin recovered slowly.
Too slowly.
Every movement sent spikes of pain through his body.
The others tried not to stare.
They failed.
He caught the glances.
The hushed conversations.
The fear.
He couldn't blame them.
He was different.
He could feel it in the way the world responded to him now.
Surfaces warped slightly as he passed.
Metal strained.
Glass quivered.
Small things.
Barely noticeable.
But growing.
Day by day.
**
One night, he woke gasping.
His fragment burning like a brand inside his chest.
He staggered to his feet.
Stumbled into the bathroom.
Collapsed over the cracked sink.
Cold water hissed out of the tap.
He splashed it onto his face, shivering.
Stared at his reflection.
And for a moment—
Just a moment—
His eyes glowed faintly.
Not gold.
Not blue.
A deep, hungry red.
Seo-jin recoiled.
Clutched the sink until his knuckles turned white.
"Get a grip," he whispered harshly.
"You're still you."
But the mirror didn't answer.
And the thing in his chest pulsed once.
Satisfied.
**
The next morning, Ko cornered him.
"You need to start training again," the big man said bluntly.
Seo-jin blinked at him.
"Are you serious?"
"You're healing. Slowly, yeah. But you're not gonna get any better rotting on that couch."
Seo-jin stared at the cracked floor.
"I'm not… ready."
Ko snorted.
"You think being ready ever mattered?"
Seo-jin said nothing.
Ko clapped a massive hand on his shoulder—careful, but firm.
"You lived, kid. That's more than most get. Now figure out what you're gonna do with it."
Then he turned and stomped away.
**
Seo-jin sat there for a long time.
Thinking.
Turning Ko's words over and over.
Figure out what you're gonna do with it.
He touched his chest lightly.
Felt the slow, steady thrum of the fragment beneath his skin.
Not a curse.
Not a blessing.
A tool.
A weapon.
A choice.
He stood up.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His body screamed in protest.
He ignored it.
Stepped into the courtyard behind Lotus.
The sun hung low and red, bleeding across the crumbling rooftops.
Seo-jin closed his eyes.
Breathed deep.
And drew on his fragment.
**
The world rippled around him.
The air cracked.
Space flexed.
Seo-jin gritted his teeth.
Held the power in check.
Focused it.
Not a flood.
Not a surge.
A whisper.
A scalpel.
Thin lines of distortion shimmered across the courtyard, tracing invisible fractures.
Seo-jin opened his eyes.
Smiled grimly.
He was still broken.
Still bleeding inside.
Still scared.
But he was here.
Alive.
Evolving.
And the world would have to deal with it.
One way or another.