The air inside the Lotus base was heavy.
Seo-jin tightened the straps on his satchel, fingers trembling slightly.
Ha-eun leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him pack. Her eyes narrowed.
— "You're not telling me something," she said.
Seo-jin paused.
— "I'm just scouting," he lied smoothly.
Ha-eun's jaw tightened.
— "Alone?"
He shrugged.
— "Faster that way."
She didn't buy it.
Neither of them said what they were really thinking:
Whatever Seo-jin was planning, it was dangerous.
Maybe suicidal.
Ha-eun pushed off the wall, walking closer.
She grabbed his wrist, forcing him to meet her gaze.
— "Come back alive, idiot," she whispered.
Seo-jin swallowed hard.
He nodded once.
No promises.
No reassurances.
Only the weight of everything he couldn't say.
Then he slipped out into the dark.
**
The Lower City stretched before him like a graveyard.
Seo-jin moved fast, avoiding the main streets.
The broken buildings loomed like silent sentinels under the sickly glow of fractured streetlights.
He headed south, deeper into the ruins.
Toward the Trial Zone.
A place where reality itself had bled and curdled, tainted by fragment instability.
A place where only the desperate — or the mad — dared to tread.
Seo-jin intended to prove he was neither.
**
By the time he reached the outer perimeter, his lungs burned from the cold, metallic air.
A makeshift fence of razor wire and crumbling concrete marked the border.
Warnings sprayed in bright red letters:
NO ENTRY.
FRAGMENT CORRUPTION BEYOND THIS POINT.
Seo-jin hesitated only a moment.
Then he slipped through a gap in the wire.
Immediately, the world changed.
The very air seemed heavier.
Thicker.
The sky above twisted sluggishly, colors bleeding at the edges of vision.
His fragment pulsed uneasily in his chest, sensing the distortion.
Seo-jin tightened his fists.
No turning back now.
**
The ground cracked under his boots as he moved deeper.
Pavement rippled like water.
Walls leaned at impossible angles.
Sometimes he thought he caught glimpses of movement — shadows flickering at the edge of sight.
But when he turned, there was nothing.
His heart pounded.
He forced his breathing steady.
One step at a time.
Twenty minutes in, he encountered the first anomaly.
A lamppost grown twisted and bloated, its metal skin pulsing like a heartbeat.
Veins of glowing blue light throbbed along its surface.
Seo-jin skirted it carefully.
His fragment vibrated in warning.
Some things here were not meant to be touched.
**
As he moved deeper, the hallucinations began.
It started small — a whisper behind him.
Footsteps that didn't belong to his own.
He ignored them.
But soon, the visions grew stronger.
He saw flashes of his childhood.
Starving.
Stealing.
Crying silently in the dirt while better-fed children passed by, sneering.
He heard the voices of men who had beaten him.
Felt the sting of boots against ribs.
"Weak."
"Worthless."
"You'll die forgotten."
Seo-jin gritted his teeth.
"That's not who I am anymore."
He pressed forward.
**
The terrain grew worse.
Hills of debris.
Twisted girders jutting like broken bones.
Pools of liquid reality — shimmering and unstable — spread across the cracked ground.
Seo-jin had to move carefully, testing each step with his fragment senses.
One wrong move and he could fall through a breach into nothingness.
His breathing grew shallow.
Sweat soaked his shirt despite the cold.
His legs ached from the constant tension.
But he didn't stop.
Not yet.
Hours passed.
Or minutes.
Or days.
Time didn't work right here.
Seo-jin couldn't tell anymore.
He stumbled through a corridor of collapsed buildings, the walls closing in oppressively.
Every noise seemed too loud.
Every silence too deep.
His head throbbed.
His vision blurred.
Still he moved.
Because if he stopped...
He didn't know if he could start again.
**
The first real threat came without warning.
A low, wet growl echoed through the ruins.
Seo-jin froze.
Ahead, something crawled into view.
It had once been human — maybe.
Now it was a mass of limbs and teeth and fragment-scarred flesh.
Its eyes glowed sickly green.
Its movements were wrong — jerky, twitching.
The creature sniffed the air.
Seo-jin's heart slammed against his ribs.
It hadn't seen him yet.
Slowly, carefully, he backed away.
He didn't need a fight.
Not here.
Not now.
The creature shifted, nose twitching.
Seo-jin held his breath.
A shard of rubble slipped under his boot.
Crunch.
The creature's head snapped toward him.
It shrieked — a sound like tearing metal — and charged.
**
Seo-jin didn't think.
He ran.
Sprinting full-speed through the warped streets, dodging debris and collapsed walls.
Behind him, the monster crashed after him, howling.
Seo-jin felt the brush of clawed fingers swipe inches from his back.
He dove through a narrow gap between two broken walls.
The creature smashed against the concrete, roaring in frustration.
Seo-jin rolled, scrambled to his feet, and kept running.
He didn't dare look back.
The ruins blurred past him.
He skidded around a corner, only to find a wall of rubble blocking his way.
"Damn it!"
Thinking fast, Seo-jin activated his fragment.
A micro-fissure split the wall just enough to collapse part of it.
He squeezed through, tearing his jacket, scraping his skin raw.
The creature was still behind him, screaming.
Another sharp turn — another collapsed building.
He hurled a loose chunk of debris into a side alley, the noise echoing loudly.
The creature veered toward the sound instinctively.
Seo-jin didn't waste a second.
He ran.
But the world tilted under his feet.
His foot caught on twisted metal, and he tumbled hard to the ground.
Pain lanced up his ankle.
He hissed, forcing himself up.
Every step now sent knives through his leg.
"Keep moving."
He limped heavily, breathing ragged.
Somehow, miraculously, the creature's sounds faded behind him.
**
Every inch of his body throbbed.
Sweat stung his eyes.
He wanted nothing more than to collapse.
But he kept dragging himself forward.
Until finally—
He saw it.
An archway of blackened stone, fused with fragment residue.
Reality warped visibly around it.
Beyond it, a plaza bathed in a ghostly light.
The heart of the Trial Zone.
**
Seo-jin stumbled toward it.
He paused at the threshold.
For a moment, doubt clawed at him.
He was bleeding.
Broken.
Exhausted.
"Am I really ready for this?"
But he thought of Ha-eun.
Of Ko.
Of everyone who ever told him he wasn't enough.
He gritted his teeth.
— "No one decides that but me," he whispered.
Then he stepped through the archway.
And the real trial began.