They reached the hospital.
President Seo Jinyoung followed Jaemin through the front doors—no words, no guards, no entourage. Just the two of them.
Whispers rippled almost instantly.
"Is that the president?"
"President Seo Jinyoung??"
"Who's that with the President?"
"Oh my god, the guy with him is hot… is he single?"
"The president looks so fine even at that age, omg."
Jaemin didn't flinch at the murmurs; he just walked. The president mirrored his calm pace, hands folded behind his back like a professor out for a stroll.
At the front desk, the receptionist caught sight of them. For a split second, her brain froze seeing Seo Jinyoung standing behind someone else.
"Yes? How may I assist you?"
She asked, quickly recovering.
"I'm here to meet Han Mi-Young."
"Room 908, please sign here."
Jaemin signed. No fuss. He nodded a quiet thanks and walked off.
Inside the elevator, it was finally quiet.
Seo Jinyoung exhaled.
"This building could use some renovating…"
Jaemin tilted his head slightly, eyes squinting just a bit.
"Does this place come under the Association?"
"Nope."
Seo Jinyoung replied.
"Just being a little judgmental."
He chuckled lightly. The kind of chuckle that came from having seen the world and being tired of it.
Jaemin gave a soft smile, faint but real.
The elevator doors slid open.
They stepped out. Walked in sync. Each step measured, light, as if both of them were pacing toward something heavy.
Finally, they reached the room.
Seo Jinyoung stopped right outside.
"Please."
He said, one hand resting gently over his chest.
"Take all the time you need."
Jaemin looked at him for a moment… then nodded.
He pushed the door open—quietly.
The same sight.
White sheets. A heart monitor's low, consistent rhythm. A woman, lying peacefully, her body unmoving, her face pale but serene.
His mother.
Her body hadn't moved in years.
Not once.
No shift of fingers, no flutter of lashes, no twitch at the corners of her mouth. The machines beside her breathed for her, ticked for her, lived for her.
Han Mi-Young.
Jaemin sat beside the bed. The chair creaked slightly under his weight, his knees apart, elbows resting on them, hands laced together. His fingers were cold—but her hand was colder. He gently ran his thumb across the back of her palm.
"…It's been wild the past few days, Mom."
He said, voice low.
There was no response. Not that he expected one.
"I… I don't know what to say anymore. Mother… mom."
His words cracked.
His head lowered. The fringe of his hair dipped into his eyes.
"We miss you."
He muttered.
"I miss you."
The words left like an exhale. Like a sigh that'd been held in for far too long.
"Just wait a little longer, okay?"
His voice had weight now. A kind of desperate strength.
"I'll bring you back. I'll get stronger. I'll fix this—what they said can't be fixed, what they said wasn't possible. I'll make it possible."
He clenched her hand tighter.
"Everyone deserves a chance to live again. Isn't that what you told me?" he whispered.
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"You should too."
FWIUP—PING!
His Focus suddenly sparked, hovering to the right of his vision. A familiar screen opened.
Skillset:
1. Dash
2. Brute Strength
3. Healing
4. Super Jump
5. Flight
6. Master Swordsman
7. Dual Daggers
8. Binary Orbital Overload (Weapon Specific)
9. Phantom Grasp
10. Storm Call
11. Divine Winds
12. Thunderbolt
13. Shadow Walk
14. Wraith
15. Biome Burst
16. Core Override
17. Diviner's blessings
18. Gravechain Legion
19. Black Sun Invocation
He stared at skill #17.
Diviner's Blessings.
Still not enough.
Not yet.
"I just need to level up."
He murmured.
"I need to finish the last level of the Echo Rift. That'll give me the next stage of the skill."
The skill's evolution was locked behind the final quest inside his Echo Rift—[Active Quest: A Gift From the Past.]
That's what it was all building to.
When the quest ends… so does the lock. The system would evolve the skill automatically.
And with that evolution—
[Grace of the Mighty.]
A power strong enough to cut through spinal discoordination.
A miracle in the shape of a skill. A rebirth.
"Wait for me, Mom."
Jaemin said, pressing her hand to his forehead.
"Just a little longer…"
Silence returned to the room, but in his mind, gears were grinding. The weight of the Rift. The climb to level 450.
And the final fight that was waiting for him at the top.
Jaemin exhaled, casting a final look at his mother before his hand left hers.
"I'll get you back… and soon."
He murmured.
Then he turned. The door clicked gently behind him.
Outside, to his surprise, President Seo Jinyoung was nowhere in sight. Instead, Kim Min-soo stood patiently with his hands behind his back.
Before Jaemin could open his mouth, Kim Min-soo simply said.
"Please follow me."
No hesitation. No explanation.
Jaemin did.
The hall they walked through was quieter than the rest of the hospital. Empty, save for two guards at the ends. The doors pushed open—revealing a private lounge room, sleek and dim-lit with tall windows, and at its centre sat Seo Jinyoung, relaxed with a glass of hot tea.
Jaemin stepped in, sitting across without a word.
"So."
Seo Jinyoung said with his usual calm.
"Shall we resume our talk?"
"Sure," Jaemin replied flatly.
Seo Jinyoung smiled, placing his cup down.
"I'm aware of something. You haven't joined any Covenant yet."
Jaemin nodded.
"Yes. I haven't."
Seo Jinyoung leaned slightly forward. Jaemin could already tell where this was going.
"And why don't you join us, then?"
Seo Jinyoung offered, voice low, smooth.
Jaemin blinked.
"Huh? But I'm already registered."
"Yes, well, that's the standard procedure."
Seo Jinyoung replied.
"What I'm asking is—work directly under the Association. Specifically. Not a Covenant. Not a guild. Not a contract."
"…Why?"
That one word left Jaemin's lips too easily. Like a reflex.
And Seo Jinyoung paused—just for a second.
It wasn't the question itself that startled him. It was how casually it was asked. No flinch. No awe. No hesitation.
"A man... asking why, so easily... to me?"
Seo Jinyoung let out a breath, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile.
Jaemin stayed quiet for a moment, then gave a faint chuckle under his breath.
Seo Jinyoung raised a brow.
"Well… a lot of Covenants are in the hunt for you."
The president said with a light breath.
"They're competitive—and frankly, they're already grabbing each other's necks. The moment you land in someone's hands, it'll turn into a political war."
Jaemin said nothing.
"Joining us."
Seo Jinyoung continued.
"Won't just end that war quietly. It would increase the Association's might… in ways no one would contest."
A pause.
"Hm."
Jaemin tilted his head slightly.
"I refuse."
Seo Jinyoung blinked.
The silence that followed was sudden, loud despite the quiet room. The old man's throat clicked as he swallowed dryly—but he held his composure, immaculate as ever.
"I see…"
He finally said, carefully.
"May I ask the reason?"
Jaemin leaned back slightly, his voice level.
"A close friend of mine is building a Covenant. He's doing it in the hopes that I'll join."
"So."
Seo Jinyoung said slowly.
"You'll be refusing… to join him."
"Exactly."
"…I see."
Seo Jinyoung glanced away, thinking—then leaned forward again.
"We could cancel all existing paperwork. Refund the full amount. Pay you both—handsomely—if the two of you decide to join under our banner."
Jaemin didn't even blink.
"Would that money."
He asked.
"Be enough to repay my friend's… my brother's dream?"
The silence after that wasn't heavy. It was clear.
Seo Jinyoung stared at Jaemin for a moment longer—then leaned back in his chair and smiled. Not bitterly. Not offended. But quietly, like someone who'd just been reminded how rare conviction was.
"Very well."
He said.
"I wish you luck… in your endeavour."
Seo Jinyoung reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small folded slip of paper.
"Here."
He said, handing it over.
Jaemin looked down. A handwritten number.
"My personal line."
The president said calmly.
"No assistants. No red tape."
Jaemin took it, slipping it into his pocket without a word.
"Don't get me wrong, President."
He finally said, voice steady.
"I crave fighting Abyssals. Getting stronger. Joining a fresh Covenant… that's what can fulfil that."
Seo Jinyoung looked at him for a long second.
He smiled.
A tired smile. The kind that held no bitterness—just memory. The kind only someone old could wear. Old, and still wanting to be in the field. His days of battle were behind him, even if he never chose that himself.
And in Jaemin… he saw a younger version of the fire that was lit like wildfire, once carried by all CoreBorns. Unburnt. Untethered.
He stood slowly, suit still pristine.
"It was a pleasure, Mr. Han."
He said, extending his hand one last time.
"I'm sure every fight you take… will make us proud."
Jaemin met the handshake. No hesitation this time. A single respectful bow, and he left in silence.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Kim Min-soo stepped forward, quiet.
"Kim Min-soo."
Seo Jinyoung said without turning.
"Yes, President."
"Keep an eye out for him."
A beat.
"While we can't stop him… It's better to keep others' eyes away. From him. From his power."
"Yes, President."
"Seal every document. Transfer his entire Coreborn registry to a black file. Classify everything under my personal clearance."
Kim Min-soo bowed his head slightly.
"Understood."
"We'll respect your wishes, Mr. Han."
Seo Jinyoung murmured, eyes drifting upward to the clean white ceiling above him.
"To keep everything away from the public eye… until it's time."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
And then whispered, just loud enough to hear in the quiet:
"Spread your wings, young mine… fight without regret, for our future."
