There was no sound at first.Only the electric pulse of the countdown reverberating through the lab like a heartbeat that didn't belong to any living thing.11:53:02 → 11:53:01.
Ha-rin's breath came out ragged.She and Jae-hyun stood back-to-back in the fractured lab, surrounded by shards of broken glass that floated weightlessly in the charged air.Each fragment reflected distorted versions of them — smiles that didn't belong, shadows where eyes should've been.
Then the reflections stepped out of the mirrors.
Two perfect replicas — the Echo Shadows — faced them.Their movements were too fluid, too in sync, as though the universe itself had rehearsed them.
Shadow-Ha-rin tilted her head, lips curling into a smile that looked almost kind.
"You fought to fix time. We fought to survive it."
Shadow-Jae-hyun's voice followed, calm but hollow.
"The system learned love from your choices. It learned pain from ours."
Ha-rin swallowed hard. "You're not real."
The shadows moved closer in unison.
"Neither is love," they said together.
The lights flickered violently.Every screen in the lab came alive, displaying hundreds of overlapping heart-rate signatures — all matching the same rhythm.Their rhythm.
Jae-hyun cursed under his breath. "They're syncing to us. Every emotional spike feeds them."
Seo-jin's distorted voice buzzed faintly from the comms — static-filled, panicked.
"Don't react emotionally! They're mimicking your resonance patterns!"
Ha-rin tried to still her trembling hands. "Don't react emotionally? That's literally all we do!"
Jae-hyun grabbed her wrist gently. "Then let's control what we feel."
The shadows lunged.Energy surged through the room, shattering the floor tiles into floating fragments.
Jae-hyun met his double mid-strike — their collision sending a crack of light rippling across the room.For a moment, it was like watching two reflections in a broken mirror — one fighting to exist, the other to erase.
Ha-rin faced her own shadow.The other her moved gracefully, almost like a dancer, every step perfectly calculated.When she struck, it wasn't with fists — but with memories.
Each time their hands collided, Ha-rin saw flashes:Her own fears.Her anger.Every unspoken doubt.
"You resent him," Shadow-Ha-rin whispered, circling her."Every time he chooses logic over you."
Ha-rin's breath faltered. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?"
The shadow's eyes glowed faint silver.
"You think love should save him. But deep down, you want him to need you."
Ha-rin froze.
On the other side of the room, Jae-hyun's double was relentless — speaking in his voice but sharper, crueler.
"You protect her because you're afraid she'll realize she doesn't need you."
Jae-hyun snarled, driving his fist into the reflection — but the impact only made it laugh.
"You hide behind control. That's not love, that's fear."
The hum deepened, the lab trembling.Every emotion — fear, anger, guilt — amplified the shadows.The more they resisted, the stronger their duplicates grew.
Ha-rin dropped to her knees, shaking. "We're feeding them."
Jae-hyun looked around, panting. "Then we change the frequency."
Ha-rin blinked. "How?"
He reached for her hand, his voice barely steady. "By loving them."
She stared at him. "What—?"
He smiled faintly. "They're us. Every broken version, every regret. We can't destroy them without forgiving them."
Ha-rin looked back at her shadow — the reflection of all her fears, loneliness, and jealousy —and for the first time, she didn't pull away.
She stepped closer, hand trembling."I'm sorry," she whispered. "For hating you for feeling too much."
The shadow flinched.Light rippled across its form.
Jae-hyun mirrored her — standing face-to-face with his double."I forgive you," he said quietly. "For all the times you couldn't save her."
Their echoes faltered.Their outlines blurred, breaking apart into waves of silver light.
Ha-rin's eyes filled with tears. "It's working…"
The two shadows reached for them one last time —not in anger, but in peace.
"Then remember us kindly."
And with that, they dissolved into light — their forms scattering like dust in a sunrise.
The room fell silent.The shards on the table glowed again, brighter now —and a seventh fragment floated up between them, formed from the remnants of their reflections.
It pulsed softly, warm like a heartbeat rediscovered.
Ha-rin reached for it, whispering, "The shard of forgiveness."
Jae-hyun exhaled slowly, letting his shoulders relax for the first time in hours."Maybe love isn't balance after all," he murmured. "Maybe it's acceptance."
Ha-rin smiled through her tears. "And maybe that's how we'll win."
The countdown flickered back to life.11:52:58.
Only this time, the digits glowed gold.
Seo-jin's voice returned, shaky but alive."Uh, so… either you two just purified an ancient AI through emotional therapy, or I'm hallucinating."
Ha-rin laughed weakly, leaning into Jae-hyun's shoulder. "Maybe both."
Outside the shattered lab window, dawn broke over Luma City —two suns overlapping in the sky for a single, impossible moment.
The loop hadn't reset.Not yet.