Seoul.

  Hongdae at night was a living organism.

  Neon signs flickered above crowded streets. Music thumped from underground clubs. Strangers laughed too loudly. Steam rose from food stalls. The winter air bit at exposed skin.

  Harsh Kumar stood outside a convenience store, hands wrapped around a small cup of hot Americano.

  The warmth barely reached his fingers.

  His phone screen glowed weakly.

  2% battery.

  He sighed.

  “Yaar… not now.”

  He had just finished his shift at a small Indian restaurant two streets away. Eight hours of smiling customers. Burned fingers. Fake energy.

  Now he was just tired.

  Tired… and a little lonely.

  Korea was beautiful.

  But sometimes it felt like the entire city was alive—except inside him.

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket and stepped off the curb.

  A voice stopped him.

  “Harsh Kumar.”

  His body locked.

  He turned slowly.

  A girl stood a few feet behind him.

  Black coat. Hair tied back. Sharp, steady eyes.

  Not dangerous.

  But not normal either.

  He blinked.

  “Sorry… do I know you?”

  She stepped closer.

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  “No,” she said calmly. “But I know you.”

  Harsh forced a small laugh.

  “Okay… that sounds like the start of either a romance or a kidnapping.”

  She didn’t smile.

  Her gaze dropped to his phone.

  “Your battery is at two percent.”

  Harsh frowned. “Yeah… so?”

  “In twenty seconds, it will die.”

  “…What?”

  “And in two minutes,” she continued softly, “someone will try to kill you.”

  The world seemed to pause.

  Then Harsh laughed.

  “Okay. I don’t know which K-drama universe you came from, but—”

  His phone vibrated once.

  The screen went black.

  Dead.

  The sound of the city rushed back into his ears.

  He stared at the phone.

  Then at her.

  She hadn’t moved.

  Not even surprised.

  Harsh swallowed.

  “Who are you?”

  “Han Ji-woo.”

  The name meant nothing.

  And yet… something twisted faintly in his chest.

  “Nice to meet you, Ji-woo,” he said carefully, stepping back. “But I think you—”

  She grabbed his wrist.

  Her grip was firm. Not aggressive. Certain.

  “Come with me if you want to live.”

  He pulled away.

  “Are you insane?”

  Her voice dropped lower.

  “You came to Korea to start over. New name. New papers. New life.”

  Harsh felt his pulse spike.

  “What are you talking about? I’m just a student!”

  She looked at him like he was the one who didn’t understand reality.

  “You were part of Project Aurora.”

  The words hit him like a distant echo.

  Project… Aurora.

  For half a second—

  A flash.

  Cold white lights.

  A metal room.

  A voice saying: Subject H-17 responding.

  Harsh stumbled back.

  “No… I’ve never—”

  Across the street, a man stepped out of the moving crowd.

  Grey jacket. Calm posture.

  Not drunk. Not angry.

  Focused.

  His hand rose.

  Streetlight reflected off metal.

  Harsh’s brain processed it too slowly.

  A gun.

  Ji-woo leaned close.

  “Run.”

  The gunshot split the night.

  BANG.

  Screams erupted.

  Someone dropped a drink. Glass shattered. A crowd scattered in blind panic.

  Harsh stood frozen.

  Ji-woo slapped his shoulder.

  “MOVE!”

  Adrenaline exploded through him.

  He ran.

  They sprinted between shops. Neon lights smeared into streaks of color. Another shot hit a wall inches behind them.

  “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!” Harsh shouted.

  “Because,” Ji-woo yelled back, “you are the key!”

  “To WHAT?!”

  She didn’t answer.

  They cut into a narrow alley behind a nightclub. Music thumped through brick walls.

  At the end of the alley waited a black car.

  Low. Sleek.

  Not civilian.

  Military plates.

  Ji-woo yanked the door open.

  “Get in.”

  Harsh hesitated, breath shaking.

  “I don’t even know you!”

  For the first time—

  Her expression changed.

  The cold certainty cracked.

  And beneath it was exhaustion.

  Fear.

  Something personal.

  “Harsh,” she said quietly, “I’ve been looking for you for three years.”

  His heart skipped.

  “How?”

  Her voice lowered to almost a whisper.

  “Because I’m not supposed to be here.”

  Another gunshot echoed from the alley entrance.

  Closer.

  Harsh’s chest tightened.

  “What does that even mean?”

  Ji-woo met his eyes.

  And the next sentence shattered everything.

  “I’m from the future.”

  The sound of footsteps approached.

  The man in grey turned into the alley.

  Gun raised.

  Ji-woo grabbed Harsh’s collar—

  And the world exploded in light.