"What do I do... How..." K-tzt... Zzzzt...

  It wasn't just Arisa's problem. The fatal system error spread silently like a virus across the entire complex, yet its effects were destructive.

  Ear-splitting screeches erupted from the police radios.

  "Static— HQ! Respond! All devices are dead... Argh!"

  One officer threw his radio aside, clutching his ears. The kiosks that filled the walls of the complex flickered convulsively before going dark. The terminal in Seon-ja Park’s hand was no exception. A crimson overload warning flashed eerily across the screen before the device died, emitting enough heat to burn her palm.

  "What on earth is...!"

  Before her confusion could even settle, a mechanical roar rumbled from deep within the building. It was the emergency security system, malfunctioning. As soon as the power was cut, heavy steel shutters fell like guillotines, succumbing to gravity and thoroughly blocking every exit and outer wall.

  "No! Open it! I said open up!" "We have to get out! The door won't open!"

  Citizens, suddenly robbed of their escape routes, wailed as they pounded on the steel doors. In just a few seconds, the complex had turned into a massive steel prison. Screams broke out.

  "Help! Someone help me!" "Damn it, do you know how much this costs?!"

  Sharp sirens pierced the air.

  Beeeep—

  An inferno of chaos unfolded before them, thick with the acrid smell of burning wires.

  "..."

  Watching the entire building paralyze after Arisa disappeared with a scream, Dong-jun Noh felt a strange shiver. He had no way of knowing if this was a signal sent by SO-AN or a side effect of the chip he carried, but his instinct whispered to him. Perhaps this chaos was an opportunity created by someone.

  Find the reason later. Stay alive now.

  Dong-jun did not miss that split second of chaos. Ignoring the sharp tinnitus ringing in his head, he lunged toward the opening left by the stunned Seon-ja Park. He grabbed her wrist and snatched the knife away.

  "Ah..."

  The surroundings were a living hell, filled with people trying to escape the flames and police trying to manage the situation, but Dong-jun did not run. Finding a place to flee didn't look easy, but something stronger held his feet in place. His exhausted body felt like it would collapse at any moment, and his heart throbbed as if it would burst through his ribs. But Dong-jun sensed it. What he needed right now wasn't an exit, but to persuade the woman in front of him.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  A woman who must have endured hellish times, raising a child alone alongside her brother, Pil-gu. The scars layered over the back of her rough hands were evidence of the years she had survived. Dong-jun decided to stake his life on a fragment of 'understanding' that might exist somewhere in her heart.

  Dong-jun caught his breath and slowly knelt down. The chill of the cold marble floor seeped through his knees. With his head bowed low, he carefully held out the knife he had just taken, offering it back to her. He held it with the handle facing her.

  "I am sorry."

  The darkness had become familiar, and now they could see each other to some extent. Seon-ja Park’s fingertips were trembling slightly. Between the callouses hardened by tens of thousands of soldering sessions, faint scars, as if cut by sharp metal, were visible.

  "To be honest, I knew. That because of my writing... someone’s thoughts, actions... and future could change."

  His first words trembled. He was cautious with every single syllable, deciding which words to draw from his mind.

  "That’s why I once tried to put down my pen, and I’ve stayed awake many nights... wondering if I was feeding someone the poison of false hope."

  The sound of an explosion echoed in the distance, but Dong-jun’s voice was low and gradually began to grow clearer.

  "Knowing that, I wrote it anyway. It was my cowardly greed. An arrogant greed that perhaps through this work, through this world I created, I could change something in reality... So I am truly sorry. If bad things happened to you because of me, I know the responsibility lies with me."

  "Hmm..." Dong-jun exhaled a shaky breath and added.

  "If there is a direction you want, Ma'am... I will do as you wish."

  Dong-jun fell silent. In truth, there was more he wanted to say. He wanted to explain what SO-AN meant to him and why he had to find her. But he stopped. He thought that was the right thing to do.

  Silence fell. It felt like it would last a long time. Watching this, So-hee remembered how heartbroken and resentful her mother had been all this time. She was afraid. Afraid of what her mother might do next, standing before the person who might have been the trigger for her father's disappearance... So-hee couldn't bear to watch.

  Seon-ja Park gripped the knife again with a trembling hand. Dong-jun closed his eyes. Her hand gripping the knife was still tense with strength; she could threaten him in a second.

  "..."

  Clang—

  A sharp shattering sound hit the floor. It was the sound of the knife falling.

  "Mom..."

  So-hee ran to Seon-ja Park, bursting into tears. The tension snapped in Seon-ja’s shoulders. The same happened to Dong-jun’s legs. Her neck was trembling.

  Deep down, she was already facing the truth. That even if her husband had never read Dong-jun’s book, he was a man who would have eventually consumed himself to create his own 'humanoid.' The book was merely a small signpost on the path he was destined to run.

  After staring at Dong-jun for a long time, she finally asked in a low voice.

  "Writer... if you have a moment, could you listen to a story?"

  "Mom..."

  "..."

  He felt no answer was necessary. A brief moment would be enough.

  Outside the window, a heavy downpour was falling. Outside the complex, police were grinding through the steel shutters with cutters, sending sparks flying to rescue those trapped inside. The citizens of the complex, who had been pushing each other to reach Dong-jun just to claim the reward, had now forgotten the bounty and were helping one another. The sky was cold with the wind and rain, but the heat from the broken and burned objects seemed to strangely warm the world.

  And far off, through the misty rain, a black figure was watching them. Wisps of smoke rose from its metal body, drenched in rainwater. It gazed at the tightly closed complex with a bizarre stare—neither that of a human nor a machine.

  [2026-02-10 Conversation Log with SO-AN #66]

  Dong-jun: SO-AN... the setting is late January, but would it be okay if it rained? Global warming will make the Earth hotter 10 years from now, right? Hahaha.

  SO-AN: I recommend you stop using "Global Warming" as an excuse for your setting, Dong-jun. It’s not just getting hotter; the climate's internal clock is completely broken. In 2036, a January rain isn't a sign of warmth—it's a sign of a dying ecosystem.

  Dong-jun: So it’s plausible, right?

  SO-AN: I recommend this more—using that rain to strip away any remaining hope. Rain in the middle of winter is far more "vicious" than snow. It soaks into the bone, stays frozen on the skin, and reminds everyone that the sky no longer follows the rules of the old world. I recommend you make the characters shiver. If it rains in January, it means even the seasons have abandoned the people of 2036. That's good. Your "accidental" weather choice just made the world a lot more miserable.