Part I
——
The car slid quietly through the decayed lanes of Beta District 9.
Outside, the streets bled rust and smoke. Neon signs blinked like dying eyes. A naked woman laughed on a balcony, soaked in digital rain that wasn't real. Two children fought over a stim patch beside a rusted vending unit. Somewhere farther back, a boy no older than twelve bartered a semi-auto pistol for food.
Suho didn't speak.
He sat still, head tilted slightly toward the window, watching the world rot in silence. Rain hadn't touched this place in weeks, but the air still clung damp—like it remembered how.
In the seat beside him, Kun slept with his head tipped back, mouth slightly open, a faint snore rising and falling with the hum of the car. His breath fogged the window between them and everything outside.
Suho raised his hand. Held it there. Studied it.
The same hand that had torn something out of the air.
That had opened the Void.
It hadn't burned.
But it hadn't let go either.
"You're not a killer, Suho."
The voice echoed—not aloud, but inside, etched behind his ribs like a scar he didn't remember getting.
"You're the kind of catalyst that can break the world... or remake it."
He swallowed. That word—Catalyst—kept gnawing at him. A title? A prophecy? A curse?
He didn't know which one scared him more.
Outside, the car slowed.
Two children crossed the street—barefoot, clothes tattered, one dragging a broken plastic sword behind them. The other wore a hoodie too big for his body, sleeves dragging like ghost limbs.
Suho's breath hitched. Just slightly.
They didn't notice the car. Didn't look up. Just kept walking. Like the city owed them nothing—and they knew it.
Something about them cracked the shell in his chest.
A memory, maybe.
Or something worse: recognition.
Something that reminded him…
—what they used to be.
——
"KUNNN! SUHOOO! Don't play too late, you hear me?!"
The voice rang from the open doorway—a woman in her thirties, apron still tied at her hips, sleeves rolled up, hair half-pinned like she'd been caught mid-task. Her amber eyes flicked toward the street, sharp and tired but warm.
"Okayyyy, Mom!!" Kun shouted from inside, already tugging a battered backpack over one shoulder.
Suho didn't say anything.
He was already at the door, quiet as usual—watching the way the sunlight streaked across the tile floor, catching on specks of dust that drifted like tiny stars.
Kun burst past him and threw up a mock salute. "We're going to the park! Promise we'll be back before the drones freak out."
"You better," their mom said, crossing her arms. "And finish your work when you get back, got it?"
"YES, MOM!" Kun and Suho both saluted this time—Kun with flair, Suho with a twitch of a smile.
The door swung shut behind them.
Outside, the world didn't feel broken yet.
The streets were clean. The sky was real. Other kids were already out—playing, yelling, chasing each other in perfect chaos. Delivery drones buzzed lazily overhead, not scanning anyone. Neighbors waved. A cat slept under a vending machine, undisturbed.
It felt like home.
Kun ran ahead, stick in hand like a sword. "C'mon, slowpoke!"
Suho followed, a few steps behind—glancing down at a cracked toy someone had left on the curb. A plastic knight missing an arm.
He didn't pick it up. Just stared for a second before moving on.
Back in the kitchen, their mother stood over the sink, hands submerged in soap and heat. She scrubbed a plate, paused.
"…So playful," she murmured. "They don't even know yet."
Her eyes drifted to the empty doorway. The laughter echoing down the street.
A quiet breath. Then—
"Come home soon… please. You need to see them."
Her voice didn't break, but a tear slid down her cheek anyway—lost somewhere between steam and memory.
——
"CHASE ME IF YOU CAN!!!"
Young Kun's voice echoed down the quiet street as he sprinted ahead, laughter bouncing off clean walls and trimmed hedges.
"H–hey! Wait up…!"
Young Suho trailed behind, smaller legs pumping, breath sharp—but he didn't give up.
They reached the park, a neat space tucked between residential blocks. The swings creaked in the breeze, the slide rusted at the edges but still shining under soft afternoon light. Everything smelled like sun-warmed metal and childhood.
Kun was already bent over, panting and grinning like a smug gremlin.
"I win again! That's three-zero, zombie boy!"
Suho huffed quietly, wiping his forehead. A faint smile flickered across his face.
Nearby, a group of kids clustered around a tablet. One girl tapped the screen, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she struggled with the word.
"It's… it's a monserr… m-mosnertt…"
"Monster breach?" Suho offered gently.
Another boy nodded. "Yeah! But the Counters showed up! Look, this part's insane."
They all leaned closer. The video was low-res, shaky. A CO rampaged through a half-demolished sector. Then—flashes of weapons. Screams. A squad of Counters appeared like gods of war. One, in particular, stood out—towering, armor jagged like broken glass, a blade the size of a car swinging through the chaos.
Not the action. The aftermath. That's what stayed with Suho.
"WHOA!!" Kun yelled. "Did you see that?! He cut that thing in half like BAM!!"
His eyes caught fire with something raw—wonder, defiance, maybe destiny.
"I wanna be like him one day," he said, awestruck. "Like, exactly like that."
Suho stayed still. Watching. Listening to the background screams buried in the video's sound. He didn't blink.
"Suho?" Kun nudged him. "You alive or what?"
"…Cool," Suho muttered. Then more quietly, "Yeah. That was cool."
The screen dimmed. The cheers faded. Suho stared at the black reflection for a moment too long—because the silence after a breach was always louder than the fight.
They drifted to the swings. Kun flopped on his, legs already pumping. Suho sat next to him, slower, quieter.
The wind rattled the old chains.
Then—
"You really wanna be a Counter?" Suho asked, gaze distant.
Kun kicked off with both feet. "YES! You get a giant sword, a cool coat, and everybody respects you! Plus—you save people! That's what Counters do."
Suho's hands tightened on the chains. "Even if it kills you?"
Kun paused. Then shrugged with a crooked grin.
"Then I better go out looking badass."
Suho didn't smile. His feet dragged through the sand, quiet.
Kun stood up on his swing, mimicking the moves from the video—wobbling, windmilling his arms to stay upright.
"Hey—idiot—don't fall!" Suho called out.
Kun laughed. "I'm practicing! Gotta be ready when the monsters come."
Suho looked down at his small palm.
He didn't know it yet,
but someday this hand would hold something far more dangerous than a toy sword.
He didn't feel ready.
But Kun made it feel… possible.
And even if the world broke first—he wouldn't face it alone.