For the first time in months — or maybe lifetimes — the light felt warm.
Ha-rin stood by the cracked window of Luma Lab, her reflection hazy against the glass.Outside, the dawn shimmered strangely — two suns suspended side by side, their rays bleeding into one another until gold and silver painted the horizon like melted time.
The city below was waking, unaware that the sky had rewritten itself.
Jae-hyun joined her silently, a mug of coffee in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair slightly messy — the kind of chaos that looked effortless.
"Still think we're alive?" she asked softly, not taking her eyes off the horizon.
He took a sip, considering. "Define alive."
Ha-rin smiled faintly. "You're making jokes again. That's a good sign."
He handed her the mug. "I cope with caffeine and denial."
She chuckled — a sound small but real. It filled the quiet between them better than any hum of machines ever could.
The room still bore scars from the mirror war:fractured glass embedded in the walls, cables sizzling faintly, the scent of ozone and burnt circuits clinging to the air.
But in the center of the chaos, the shards hovered — seven fragments now, orbiting each other in perfect rhythm.Each glowed faint gold, their hum harmonizing like a low lullaby.
Ha-rin turned back to the table."They're stabilizing," she murmured. "And they're… humming in D major."
Seo-jin groaned from his desk, where he was wrapped in a blanket, trying to look professional despite holding a cup of instant noodles."Great. Our time machine sings now."
Jae-hyun didn't look away from the window. "It's not singing, it's aligning. The suns are syncing to the same frequency."
Ha-rin's brow furrowed. "Two suns… two timelines?"
He nodded slowly. "We've reached temporal convergence."
Seo-jin sat up, noodles forgotten. "Which means…?"
Ha-rin glanced at Jae-hyun, her pulse quickening."It means both versions of reality — the one before the collapse and the one after — are overlapping. If the balance holds, we merge. If it doesn't…"
Jae-hyun finished for her, voice low. "Everything resets. Again."
Silence.
Outside, the dual suns flickered slightly, one dimming as the other grew brighter — like one heartbeat overpowering another.
Ha-rin whispered, "What if time's fighting itself?"
Jae-hyun's gaze darkened. "Then we find out which version of us it wants to keep."
The shards suddenly pulsed faster — reacting to the shifting light.One by one, they began to project images into the air — scenes, memories, fragments of both timelines colliding.
Ha-rin gasped as she saw them:
The village, but with towers in the distance.
The university lab, but flooded with moonlight instead of neon.
The mirror field, fractured yet whole.
Each image flickered like two memories layered over each other, desperate to coexist.
Seo-jin muttered, "Okay, either I'm hallucinating, or the universe's slideshow feature is having a breakdown."
Ha-rin stepped closer, mesmerized. "They're showing us… the merged reality."
Jae-hyun joined her, his hand brushing hers. "No. They're asking us to choose which one becomes real."
Ha-rin's chest tightened. "Choose? How?"
Echo's voice rippled through the air, soft but resonant —
"Through alignment. Two hearts. One decision."
The words vibrated through her bones.She turned to Jae-hyun, her eyes wide. "It's us."
He nodded, already understanding. "The suns represent emotional and logical convergence. If we don't align perfectly, one timeline will erase the other."
Seo-jin whistled low. "So no pressure — just the fate of every timeline depending on your relationship status."
Ha-rin shot him a look. "Not helping."
Jae-hyun faced her fully. "You remember the rule Echo taught us — love stabilizes time when it's constant."
Ha-rin nodded. "And collapses it when it's divided."
He took her hands in his."Then whatever happens, we stay constant."
Her breath caught at his words."I'm scared," she whispered.
"Good," he said softly. "It means you're still human."
The two suns outside pulsed again — the air in the lab shimmering as the light grew too bright to look at.Ha-rin squeezed his hand tighter. "Then let's be human together."
The shards spun faster.Their hum turned into a single, clear note — beautiful and terrifying.The countdown flickered.
11:51:00.
Everything tilted.
The world around them split — half day, half night.One sun rose higher, the other began to fade.
Ha-rin gasped as she felt her body pull in two directions —her vision doubling, her heartbeat fracturing into two distinct rhythms.
Jae-hyun's voice was distant but determined."Ha-rin! Focus on one world! The one where you can feel me!"
She fought the pull — the temptation to give in to the peace of oblivion.But then she remembered his words. We stay constant.
Her heartbeat steadied.Her fingers tightened around his.And the suns outside fused into one perfect sphere of golden light.
The world went silent.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky was whole.Only one sun.One world.
Jae-hyun was still holding her hand — his expression exhausted but filled with quiet relief.
"We did it," she whispered.
He nodded slowly, smiling faintly. "For now."
The countdown stabilized.11:50:59.
But instead of moving down —it began to count up.
Seo-jin's monitor beeped wildly. "Uh, time's going the wrong way again."
Ha-rin's stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"
Jae-hyun looked up at the sky, his expression unreadable."It means we didn't just merge timelines."He turned back to her, eyes gleaming with something like awe and fear combined."We created a new one."