The phone stopped vibrating.
The apartment went silent.
Too silent.
Ha-rin felt Jae-hyun's arm tighten around her instinctively, drawing her slightly behind him—protective, tense, every muscle wired like a live wire.
Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid Echo's voice would spill out of her chest.
Jae-hyun reached for the phone.
"Wait—" Ha-rin whispered, grabbing his wrist.
He didn't pull away.
But his eyes stayed on her — intense, focused, like he was memorizing her expression.
"Ha-rin," he murmured, "I'm not letting anything touch you."His thumb brushed the back of her hand."You know that, right?"
She swallowed."I know."
The pulse from her chest trembled again.
"…danger… sync… imminent…"
Ha-rin stiffened.
Jae-hyun noticed instantly.His hand cupped the side of her neck, thumb brushing her pulse point.
"Tell me."
Her voice trembled."He's warning us again. Echo's inside the heartbeat. He's… pushing words. Urgency. Danger coming now."
Jae-hyun gently pulled her closer—barely a few inches separating them.
"So we trust him."
She exhaled shakily, resting her forehead against his.
It was grounding.
Calm.
More real than the world threatening to fall apart around them.
"Okay," she whispered. "We trust him."
Then her eyes flicked toward the phone screen glowing on the table.
Jae-hyun released her slowly—reluctantly—and picked it up.
Two messages.
No sender.
No ID.
Just:
HE'S COMING.RUN.
His jaw tightened.
"Whoever sent this… knows about the loops," he said."And about Echo.""And about you."
She hugged her arms around herself, chilled.
"Do you think it's Broken Ha-rin?"
"No."Jae-hyun's voice dropped."Broken Ha-rin doesn't warn. She attacks."
The tension in his voice made her throat dry.
"So then… who—"
Before she could finish—
The lights flickered.
Every electronic device in the apartment surged at once—TV, microwave, thermostat, smart-fridge, everything.Screens flashed white.
Jae-hyun grabbed Ha-rin and pulled her tight against him, shielding her with his body.
"Stay behind me."
She didn't protest.
The apartment lights flickered again—once—twice—and died.
A low mechanical hum vibrated through the floor.
Ha-rin's breath hitched.
Jae-hyun's hand found hers in the dark and squeezed lightly.
"I'm here."
She squeezed back.
The hum grew louder—like electricity building.Or like a machine booting up.
Then the window across the room began to glow faintly from outside—a shifting blue pulse.
Ha-rin's stomach twisted.
"No…" she whispered."That frequency— that light— that's—"
Jae-hyun finished for her.
"Echo's interface signature."
But Echo was inside her.
Which meant—
This was something else.
Or someone else.
A silhouette passed the window.
Human-shaped.But wrong.Wrong proportions.Wrong movement.Like a person whose limbs belonged to someone else—jerkytiming mismatchedlike frames of a video out of sync.
Ha-rin clung to Jae-hyun.
"What—what is that—"
"Don't look," he murmured, sliding his hand up to cradle the back of her head and gently push her face into his shoulder."Ha-rin, don't look."
She clutched his shirt, heart pounding against his chest.
Every hair on her body stood on end.
The hum moved closer.
Footsteps.
Not normal footsteps.
Heavy.Metallic.Too rhythmic.
"…anchor—hazard—split—sync—"
Echo's voice trembled violently through her chest.
Jae-hyun felt it.He pulled her even closer, one arm around her back, the other shielding her head.
"Ha-rin," he whispered into her ear—steady, warm, grounding—"listen to me very carefully."
She nodded against him, desperate.
"You and I are leaving.We're going to move quietly, slowly, toward the back door.Do not let go of my hand."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"I won't."
The silhouette outside the window moved again—a jerky, disjointed tilt of its head.Like it was listening.
Like it was scanning.
Jae-hyun's breath brushed her temple.
"When I say run," he whispered,"you run with me.You don't look back.No matter what you hear."His lips brushed her hair."And no matter what happens to me."
She jerked back enough to look up at him, eyes wide.
"No—Jae-hyun—don't say that—"
His forehead pressed to hers.
"I need you alive."
Her breath tangled with his.
"I can't lose you again."
He closed his eyes, jaw tight with emotion.
"You're not losing me."
He kissed her forehead—firm, lingering, an anchor more than affection.
But when he pulled back—
His eyes sharpened.
The silhouette stopped moving.
The hum intensified.
Ready to strike.
"Ha-rin," he whispered,"Run."
She had no time to respond.
A sound tore through the apartment—high-pitchedmechanicalinhuman—
The lights exploded back on.
And Ha-rin—heart racing, hand locked in Jae-hyun's—saw it clearly for the first time.
The figure standing inside her living room.
Its face glitched.Its limbs flickered.Its voice sounded like someone speaking through broken speakers.
And yet—
Ha-rin recognized the shape of that face.
Her blood ran ice-cold.
"Jae-hyun…" she whispered.
He swallowed.
"I know."
Because standing there—distorted, corrupted, artificial—
was a machine wearing Echo's face.