The lab lights were dim, bathing the room in soft amber tones.Ha-rin lay on the cot by the wall, pale but peaceful, her breathing shallow and slow — like she was dreaming with her eyes open.
Across the room, Jae-hyun worked in silence.The table in front of him was covered with open schematics, half-finished circuits, and a single glowing shard that pulsed faintly in rhythm with Ha-rin's heartbeat.
The clock above him read 11:52:00, but it didn't move.Time was holding its breath again.
Seo-jin hovered near the doorway, hesitant."You haven't slept in thirty hours," he said softly. "Your hands are shaking."
Jae-hyun didn't look up. "I can't afford sleep. If she loses another layer, Echo will overwrite her long-term emotional memory."
Seo-jin sighed, setting down a thermos of coffee."You really think this new setup — what did you call it — the Reverie Link — will work?"
Jae-hyun's voice was quiet but certain. "It has to."
He held up a small device — a circular neural interface threaded with gold filaments that shimmered faintly like living veins."It'll connect my consciousness directly to hers through Echo's frequency. I'll anchor her memories using mine."
Seo-jin frowned. "You mean, you're going to share your brain with a collapsing timeline?"
Jae-hyun gave a faint, humorless smile. "For her? That's a small price."
He knelt beside Ha-rin, brushing a stray hair from her face.Her skin was cool under his touch — too cool.
"You always said I talked too much," he murmured, voice barely audible."Guess now it's my turn to listen."
He placed the Reverie Link on both their temples.For a moment, nothing happened — and then, a pulse.
The shard on the table flared.The room blurred.
And Jae-hyun fell into the Reverie Field.
It was like diving into light.Warm, endless light — and then color.Fragments of Ha-rin's memories surrounded him, floating like glass petals in the air.
He reached out and touched the nearest one.A small café by the river. Ha-rin laughing, holding a cup of coffee with both hands.Her hair whipped by the wind. Her voice bright and teasing —
"You think logic can explain everything, Kang Jae-hyun?"
He smiled faintly, whispering to the echo, "Not you."
The image shimmered and folded back into the air.He turned — another memory.
A rainy evening at the university.Ha-rin, soaked, holding out her notebook, grinning.
"You owe me dinner if this prototype works."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then I still get dinner."
He chuckled softly. "You always did win every argument."
He moved deeper into the field.The memories were growing dimmer now — fading at the edges, dissolving like ink in water.He reached for one, desperate to hold it.
It was the moment she'd first touched his hand in the lab.The spark. The shy smile. The heartbeat that had changed everything.
He whispered her name. "Ha-rin…"
The scene flickered — and for a moment, he felt her turn toward him.
"You're not supposed to be here," her voice said softly, both real and not.
He froze. "Ha-rin?"
"You're inside what I've forgotten."
He moved closer, heart racing. "Then I'll help you remember."
She smiled sadly.
"If you give me your memories, you'll forget yourself."
He shook his head. "Then we'll forget together."
The light around them pulsed violently.The shards outside — in the real world — began to glow brighter, synchronizing with his neural link.
Seo-jin's voice crackled faintly through the comms."Jae-hyun! Your vitals are syncing with hers! You have to pull back!"
He ignored it.His world was her — the girl of laughter and storms, of bravery and softness.
He reached out again, touching the fading edge of her face.And for the first time, her image didn't dissolve.
Instead, she looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I remember now," she whispered. "You're the one who taught me how to breathe when the world held its breath."
He felt his own vision blur. "And you're the one who made it worth breathing for."
The shards in the lab suddenly stilled.The hum quieted.
Inside the Reverie, the world slowed — then steadied.The countdown, frozen at 11:52:00, began to tick again.
11:52:01.11:52:02.
Ha-rin reached for him, fingers trembling.
"If I fade again…"
He caught her hand, holding it against his chest."Then I'll build another world until you find me in it."
Her tears fell — glowing as they hit the ground.
"You're impossible."
He smiled softly. "That's what you loved about me."
The light swallowed them both.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in the lab — lying on the floor beside her.Her hand was in his. Her eyes were open.
And she was smiling.
"Hey," she whispered weakly, voice breaking. "You look like you fought time again."
He laughed shakily, brushing her cheek. "And lost gloriously."
Seo-jin exhaled loudly from across the room. "Thank god you're both alive. I was about to start composing your eulogies."
Ha-rin blinked, her gaze drifting toward the shard cluster."Did it work?"
The shards glowed faintly rose — no longer gold, no longer mechanical.Each pulse matched the beat of two hearts.
Jae-hyun smiled."Yes," he said softly. "Now the world remembers us both."