Ha-rin didn't remember unlocking her apartment door.
Or kicking off her shoes.Or turning on the hallway light.
Everything after leaving the rooftop felt like walking through water—thick, slow, heavy. A week off. With Jae-hyun. A heartbeat that no longer belonged only to her.
Echo's faint whispers.
Broken Ha-rin somewhere out there.
Too much.All at once.
She leaned her forehead against the doorframe and exhaled shakily.
"Ha-rin."
She jerked upright.
Jae-hyun was standing behind her, close enough that the warmth of his body brushed the back of her coat. His voice was low, gentle, but threaded with worry.
"You're trembling again."
"No, I'm—"
He reached out without asking, sliding a hand lightly along her arm, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist—a touch meant to steady but one that made her breath hitch.
"You don't have to pretend with me," he murmured.
She swallowed.
"I'm just tired."
He arched a brow. "You've been tired since 1999."
A startled laugh escaped her. "Hey—!"
His expression softened again.
"Ha-rin. Open the door before you fall asleep in the hallway."
She nodded numbly and pushed the door open.
The moment she stepped inside, her knees nearly buckled.
Not from exhaustion.
From the quiet.
The apartment felt wrong.Everything too still.Too empty.
Echo had always been a faint background hum in her chest—information, observation, teasing commentary. Even outside the lab, she'd felt his presence in the small data pulses of her smartwatch or the automated systems at home.
But now—
Silence.
It rang louder than any alarm.
Jae-hyun closed the door behind them, watching her with a careful intensity, the kind that stripped away all pretenses.
"Sit," he ordered gently. "You look like you're about to tip over."
She sank onto the couch without arguing.
He shrugged off his blazer and draped it around her shoulders before sitting beside her—too close, knee brushing hers, thigh pressed warmly along her side. The closeness felt dangerous.
Comforting.
Necessary.
"I'm worried," he said quietly.
She blinked at him. "About what?"
"You."His voice was soft, but the emotion behind it wasn't."You're still pale. And shaking. And I know you're pretending you're fine so Mira won't drag you to a hospital."
Her lips parted. "I—"
He leaned closer.
"Look at me."
The command wasn't sharp, but something in it made her obey instantly.
His eyes held hers, dark and searching.
"There you are," he whispered. "Come back."
Her throat tightened.
"How do you do that?" she asked quietly.
"Do what?"
"Make me feel like I'm living in the wrong timeline until I look at you."
He didn't answer.
Just lifted a hand, cupped her face gently, and brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. She leaned into the touch before she could stop herself.
The city lights outside the windows flickered on as if responding.
"Ha-rin," he murmured, voice barely above breath, "let me stay tonight."
Her breath caught.
Not in a romantic-movie way.
In a startled, heartbeat-skipping, world-tilting way.
"W-what?"
He didn't look away.
"I'm not asking to share your bed or invade your space."His thumb brushed her cheek again."I'm asking because you shouldn't be alone."
She blinked rapidly."Jae-hyun—"
"You had memory collapse level-3 trauma today," he continued softly."I almost lost you in a collapsing loop.Echo died in front of you.Broken Ha-rin is out there, tied to your mind.And your heartbeat is syncing with something we don't understand."
He swallowed hard.
"And you shake every time you think no one is looking."
Her eyes stung.
"So yes," he finished quietly."I'm staying."
She didn't argue.
Couldn't.
Because he was right.Because the phantom whispering inside her chest had grown clearer since they'd left the lab.Because every moment alone felt like falling into a void.
And because—even though she wouldn't say it—she didn't want him to leave.
So she whispered,
"…Okay."
The relief in Jae-hyun's eyes was subtle but unmistakable.
"Good," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Now lie down."
Her cheeks warmed. "Don't say it like that."
He smirked faintly. "Lie down on the couch, Ha-rin."
She muttered something unintelligible but obeyed, sinking into the cushions. Jae-hyun tugged a blanket over her and sat on the floor beside the couch, his arm resting near her shoulder.
"You're sitting on the floor?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He shot her a look.
"Because watching over you from here is easier than from the other side of the room."
Her heart flipped.
He was impossibly close—close enough that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw,the shadows under his eyes,the tiny flecks of gold in his iriseswhen the streetlights reflected through the window.
She reached toward him before she could think.
Her fingers brushed his hair.Soft.Warmer than she expected.
He nearly froze.
"Ha-rin…"
"I just…" her voice trembled, "needed to know you're really here."
He covered her hand gently, pressing it to his head for a moment.
"I'm here," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Her heartbeat jumped—
And then—
"…constant…"
Ha-rin gasped.
A pulse—like an echoing vibration—rippled through her chest.
Jae-hyun straightened immediately.
"What is it?"
Her hand flew to her sternum.
"I heard him—I heard Echo—Jae-hyun he's—he's—"
Suddenly her vision blurred.
Not from dizziness.
From overlap.
A second image layered over her apartment—Jae-hyun standing beside a different couchin a different roomwearing different clothes.
A different time.
A dream.
A memory that didn't belong to her.
But it felt like being pulled underwater by a familiar hand.
"Jae-hyun—" she choked, "something's—wrong—"
He caught her shoulders.
"Ha-rin! Look at me—stay with me—"
But she was already falling.
Her head hit the pillow—her eyelids dropped—the blanket curled around her like a wave—and consciousness dissolved.
🌙 THE DREAM
She opened her eyes to darkness.
Her apartment was gone.
She stood in the middle of a vast, moonlit courtyard. White blossoms floated in the air like drifting snow. And beneath the open sky—
Jae-hyun stood waiting for her.
Except—he wasn't alone.
A second silhouette stood behind him.A girl with her face.Her eyes.
Broken Ha-rin.
She stepped out of the shadows, smirking.
"Welcome back," Broken Ha-rin whispered."To the place where you lost him first."
Ha-rin's blood ran cold.
Jae-hyun turned—but not toward Ha-rin.
Toward the other her.
"Ha-rin?" he whispered.
Her voice died in her throat.
He was seeing Broken Ha-rin.Not her.
Broken Ha-rin smiled, stepping closer to him—too close—close enough that their shadows merged under the moonlight.
"Did you miss me?" the corrupted version purred.
Jae-hyun exhaled shakily, like someone reliving a ghost.
"Who… are you?" he asked, confused.
Broken Ha-rin cupped his face with frightening tenderness.
"I'm the Ha-rin you forgot."
Ha-rin lunged forward.
"No—NO—Jae-hyun, that's not me—don't—!"
But her voice didn't reach him.
Her feet didn't move.
Her hands passed through the air like she was walking through water.
She screamed.
"Jae-hyun! JA—HYUN!"
He didn't hear her.
Broken Ha-rin leaned in—lips almost grazing his ear—and whispered:
"If you won't choose me in the real world,you'll choose me here."
Ha-rin felt something snap inside her chest.
A surge of heat—anger, fear, desperation, love—and a voice rising from deep inside:
"…constant—protect—"
A burst of light exploded from her heart.
Broken Ha-rin staggered back.
Jae-hyun clutched his head, wincing.
Ha-rin gasped, staring at her own trembling hands.
"Echo…?" she whispered.
A faint pulse answered.
"…anchor… constant… warning…"
Broken Ha-rin snarled.
"So that's where you hid him."
Ha-rin's heart stuttered.
"Hid who?"
Broken Ha-rin pointed at her chest.
"At you.At your heartbeat."
Her smile twisted.
"Echo didn't die.He burrowed into you.And now he's waking."
The courtyard trembled violently.
Jae-hyun dropped to his knees, clutching his head as memories swirled around him—
fire—broken glass—a girl screaming—another girl crying—and Echo's voice echoing through the night—
"Choose—choose—choose—"
Ha-rin screamed.
The dream shattered.
⚡ BACK IN THE REAL WORLD
Ha-rin bolted upright on the couch.
Sweating.Sobbing.Heart pounding like a war drum.
"Ha-rin!"
Jae-hyun caught her instantly, pulling her into his arms as she shook.
She didn't even try to pull away.
She buried her face in his chest, fingers twisting in his shirt, breathing in the warmth and scent of him as if anchoring herself to the real world.
He wrapped both arms around her, one hand on her back, the other cradling the back of her head.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I've got you. You're safe. Tell me what you saw."
She clung to him.Desperate.
"I saw her," she sobbed. "Broken Ha-rin. She was talking to you. You couldn't see me—I was right there—you couldn't hear me—"
His arms tightened.
"Ha-rin—"
"She said Echo didn't die," she choked out. "She said he's inside me—and she knows—and she's coming—"
Her voice cracked, trembling violently.
Jae-hyun pulled her tighter, hand sliding into her hair as he held her against him like he could shield her from the dream itself.
"Look at me," he whispered.
She lifted her face.
His fingers wiped her tears gently, cupping her cheeks with a tenderness so raw it made her breath break.
"You're here," he murmured. "With me. Not in the dream. Not in the loop. Here."
She nodded, shaking.
His forehead touched hers.
"Ha-rin," he whispered, voice rough, "I'm not losing you again. Do you hear me?"
Her heartbeat galloped.
Ba-dump… ba-dump… ba-dump…
Echo's voice pulsed faintly through her chest:
"…danger… incoming… constant… protect anchor…"
She froze.
So did Jae-hyun.
He felt it.
Because his eyes widened—and his hand moved from her cheek to her chest,not touching—just hovering—feeling the faint vibration through the air.
"Ha-rin…" he whispered, stunned."Your heartbeat. It's… speaking."
She swallowed hard.
It was starting.
Volume 3 was beginning for real.