The courtyard behind Lotus was a graveyard of broken concrete and rusted steel.
Seo-jin stood at its center, sweat slicking his skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Ko towered a few meters away, arms crossed, watching with a face carved from stone.
"No excuses," Ko said flatly. "Move again."
Seo-jin swallowed hard.
His muscles screamed.
His ankle throbbed.
Every inch of him begged for rest.
But he clenched his fists, feeling the pulse of the fragment under his ribs, and nodded.
One step.
Another.
Lunge.
Duck.
Strike.
The air shimmered faintly around him as his fragment tried to react instinctively, warping space in tiny bursts.
Seo-jin fought it back.
Controlled it.
Focused it.
Each movement felt like dragging himself through fire.
But he moved.
Again.
And again.
**
Ko grunted.
"Better."
Seo-jin collapsed to one knee, coughing.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand.
"You're… insane," he panted.
Ko barked a short laugh.
"You're alive. That's the job."
Seo-jin looked up at him through the haze of pain and exhaustion.
"You always make it sound so simple."
Ko crouched down, meeting his gaze.
"It is simple," he said. "Hard. Bloody. Brutal. But simple."
He jabbed a finger against Seo-jin's forehead, not gently.
"Survive. Adapt. Win."
Seo-jin closed his eyes.
The words sank deep into him.
Not encouragement.
Not kindness.
Reality.
He nodded slowly.
"I get it."
Ko's mouth twitched—almost a smile.
"Good."
**
Later, after Ko left him sprawled half-dead on the cracked stones, Ha-eun found him.
She dropped down beside him without a word, pulling a battered med-kit from her satchel.
"You're a mess," she said, her voice soft but teasing.
Seo-jin chuckled weakly.
"Thanks for the professional diagnosis."
She dabbed antiseptic on a cut above his eyebrow.
He winced.
"Baby," she muttered.
He smiled faintly.
For a few minutes, they said nothing.
Just the quiet scrape of bandages and the distant sound of the ruined city breathing its broken sighs.
Finally, Ha-eun spoke.
"You're changing."
He stiffened slightly.
She noticed.
She always noticed.
"But you're still you," she added, almost fiercely.
Seo-jin opened his eyes.
Looked at her.
"How can you be so sure?"
Ha-eun shrugged, tying off a bandage on his arm.
"Because you're still fighting."
She leaned back, stretching out her legs.
"Monsters don't fight for themselves. They just consume. You're still fighting to stay you."
Seo-jin let her words settle inside him.
Warm and heavy.
A balm against the gnawing cold growing somewhere deep within.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Ha-eun flashed him a tired grin.
"Someone's gotta keep you grounded, idiot."
**
That night, Seo-jin climbed to the roof of Lotus.
The wind cut through his torn shirt, sharp and cold.
He stood there, looking out over the endless sprawl of shattered buildings and bleeding skies.
The Lower City stretched to the horizon, a tapestry of despair and stubborn life.
Seo-jin closed his eyes.
Breathed deep.
The fragment inside him stirred, responding.
Power thrummed under his skin.
Wild. Hungry.
He clenched his fists.
"Control."
"Discipline."
"Or be devoured."
The choice was his.
And for the first time, he wasn't afraid of the hunger burning inside him.
He would master it.
Shape it.
Forge it into something that could change everything.
One day, the world would remember Seo-jin.
The courtyard behind Lotus was a graveyard of broken concrete and rusted steel.
Seo-jin stood at its center, sweat slicking his skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Ko towered a few meters away, arms crossed, watching with a face carved from stone.
"No excuses," Ko said flatly. "Move again."
Seo-jin swallowed hard.
His muscles screamed.
His ankle throbbed.
Every inch of him begged for rest.
But he clenched his fists, feeling the pulse of the fragment under his ribs, and nodded.
One step.
Another.
Lunge.
Duck.
Strike.
The air shimmered faintly around him as his fragment tried to react instinctively, warping space in tiny bursts.
Seo-jin fought it back.
Controlled it.
Focused it.
Each movement felt like dragging himself through fire.
But he moved.
Again.
And again.
**
Ko grunted.
"Better."
Seo-jin collapsed to one knee, coughing.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand.
"You're… insane," he panted.
Ko barked a short laugh.
"You're alive. That's the job."
Seo-jin looked up at him through the haze of pain and exhaustion.
"You always make it sound so simple."
Ko crouched down, meeting his gaze.
"It is simple," he said. "Hard. Bloody. Brutal. But simple."
He jabbed a finger against Seo-jin's forehead, not gently.
"Survive. Adapt. Win."
Seo-jin closed his eyes.
The words sank deep into him.
Not encouragement.
Not kindness.
Reality.
He nodded slowly.
"I get it."
Ko's mouth twitched—almost a smile.
"Good."
**
Later, after Ko left him sprawled half-dead on the cracked stones, Ha-eun found him.
She dropped down beside him without a word, pulling a battered med-kit from her satchel.
"You're a mess," she said, her voice soft but teasing.
Seo-jin chuckled weakly.
"Thanks for the professional diagnosis."
She dabbed antiseptic on a cut above his eyebrow.
He winced.
"Baby," she muttered.
He smiled faintly.
For a few minutes, they said nothing.
Just the quiet scrape of bandages and the distant sound of the ruined city breathing its broken sighs.
Finally, Ha-eun spoke.
"You're changing."
He stiffened slightly.
She noticed.
She always noticed.
"But you're still you," she added, almost fiercely.
Seo-jin opened his eyes.
Looked at her.
"How can you be so sure?"
Ha-eun shrugged, tying off a bandage on his arm.
"Because you're still fighting."
She leaned back, stretching out her legs.
"Monsters don't fight for themselves. They just consume. You're still fighting to stay you."
Seo-jin let her words settle inside him.
Warm and heavy.
A balm against the gnawing cold growing somewhere deep within.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Ha-eun flashed him a tired grin.
"Someone's gotta keep you grounded, idiot."
**
That night, Seo-jin climbed to the roof of Lotus.
The wind cut through his torn shirt, sharp and cold.
He stood there, looking out over the endless sprawl of shattered buildings and bleeding skies.
The Lower City stretched to the horizon, a tapestry of despair and stubborn life.
Seo-jin closed his eyes.
Breathed deep.
The fragment inside him stirred, responding.
Power thrummed under his skin.
Wild. Hungry.
He clenched his fists.
"Control."
"Discipline."
"Or be devoured."
The choice was his.
And for the first time, he wasn't afraid of the hunger burning inside him.
He would master it.
Shape it.
Forge it into something that could change everything.
Tomorrow would come.
And he would be ready for it.
Exhausted, Seo-jin let his body sag.
His eyes closed.
Sleep took him fast and deep.
**
He woke to shouting.
Confused, muscles aching, Seo-jin sat up slowly on his thin mattress.
Footsteps pounded through the corridors of Lotus.
Voices raised—laughter, arguments, excitement.
Seo-jin dragged himself upright, blinking blearily.
"What the hell…"
He staggered into the main hall.
And froze.
Standing in the center of the room, one hand on her hip, was a girl he had never seen before.
No—not just a girl.
A force of nature.
Her hair was a wild crown of flame-colored red, tied loosely behind her in a messy tail that somehow made her seem even more untamed.
Her jacket was half-zipped, revealing a battered tank top, her boots scuffed, her hands wrapped in cloth.
Her green-gold eyes caught his, and for a moment, Seo-jin swore the air in the room shifted.
Light.
Sharp.
Alive.
She grinned.
A wide, reckless grin.
"You're Seo-jin, right?" she said, voice rough, teasing.
Before he could answer, she tossed something at him.
A practice staff.
Seo-jin barely caught it, wincing at the shock through his arms.
"Come on," she said, already moving toward the courtyard.
"Let's see what you're made of."
Ko, standing off to the side, just smirked.
"New recruit," he said. "Min-ji."
Seo-jin stared at her.
She winked.
Then she was gone, striding outside without a second glance.
**
Seo-jin followed, half in disbelief.
Outside, the light was cold and grey.
Min-ji was already bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, staff spinning lazily in her hands.
"First to land a hit wins," she said.
"No pressure."
Seo-jin tightened his grip.
His body still ached.
His fragment hummed uneasily.
But somehow, looking at Min-ji—
The tiredness faded.
Replaced by something else.
Challenge.
Excitement.
Hope.
"Ready?" she called.
Seo-jin smiled crookedly.
"You're on."
**
They clashed.
Not hard.
Not brutal.
Just a test.
A dance.
Seo-jin ducked under a swing.
Min-ji grinned wider.
She twisted, the staff whistling past his shoulder.
Seo-jin countered, feinting low.
She jumped, laughing breathlessly.
Fast.
Sharp.
Alive.
They moved through the broken courtyard like sparks spinning in the dark.
No clear winner.
No clear loser.
Just two survivors finding something they hadn't realized they needed.
An equal.
An ally.
Maybe—someday—something more.
**
Breathless, grinning, Seo-jin lowered his staff.
Min-ji mirrored him.
Their eyes met.
Something unspoken passed between them.
A spark.
A promise.
Tomorrow could come.
The world could fall apart again.
But for now—
For now, they had found each other.