The crack across the dark screen wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
It sounded like a whisper—a thin, crisp tick that somehow echoed through the entire room like a warning.
Ha-rin jerked upright.
Jae-hyun's hand slid automatically to her waist, steadying her before she even swayed.
"Stay close," he murmured.
She didn't need the instruction.She was already leaning into his warmth like it was a lifeline.
The crack on the screen widened—just a millimeter—but every instinct in her screamed danger.
"Jae-hyun," she whispered."It's moving."
"I see it."
He positioned himself slightly in front of her, keeping her tucked behind the line of his body, one hand gripping hers so tight she felt the pulse in his palm.
Echo's voice trembled inside her ribcage:
"…incoming breach… time fracture forming… brace…"
"Brace for what?" she whispered.
Before Echo could answer—the screen flickered.
Once.Twice.
Then something moved behind the glass.
Not a reflection.Not a projection.
A hand.
Pale.Slender.Flickering with faint glitch-static.Pressing flat against the inside of the screen.
Ha-rin felt her breath stop.
"That's not possible," Jae-hyun whispered.
Broken Ha-rin's silhouette filled the black display—her face half in shadow, half lit by flickering blue streaks.
She smiled.
But it wasn't cruel this time.
It was… eerie.Soft.Almost affectionate.
"Did you miss me?" her voice whispered from inside the screen.
Ha-rin stumbled back—Jae-hyun caught her immediately, an arm hooking around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest.
"You don't belong here," Jae-hyun growled.
Broken Ha-rin tilted her head.
"I belong everywhere she does."
"No," he snapped."You belong nowhere."
Broken Ha-rin's eyes flickered.
Then she pressed her palm harder against the inside surface—
And the screen bulged outward.
Like a bubble of reality stretching.
Glass shouldn't bend.
But it did.
Ha-rin choked on a gasp.
"…temporal membrane thinning… weakening…"Echo's voice shook.
"Jae-hyun—" she whispered urgently. "She's breaking through the surface."
He pulled her even closer, shielding her entirely with his body.
"Let her try," he muttered. "She won't touch you."
Broken Ha-rin's voice slithered through the air.
"You can't protect her from me."
"Watch me."
Broken Ha-rin's fingers pushed through the glass—like a hand emerging from water—shards sliding harmlessly around her glitching skin.
Ha-rin felt her chest constrict.
"She's… coming out."
"Yes," Jae-hyun said grimly."And we're not staying here for it."
"Where do we go? The exit is behind—"
The building lights flickered violently.
The air flickered.
The temperature shifted—hotcoldhotcoldlike someone was flipping through micro-loops around them.
Echo pulsed hard.
"…RUN…"
Broken Ha-rin's hand reached farther through the fractured screen—
And then her voice changed.
Deeper.Multilayered.Glitched.
"…don't run…""…you'll only die tired…"
Ha-rin froze.
That wasn't just Broken Ha-rin.
There was another tone underneath.
Older.Familiar.
Echo stiffened inside her—his hum spiking painfully.
"…ERROR… corrupted trace… older core detected…"
"Older core?" Ha-rin gasped."Echo—what does that mean?!"
"…fragment of original build… pre-anchor… unstable…"
Jae-hyun's eyes widened.
"Mira warned me about that," he whispered. "The very first build. The one before she found the stable emotional model. The one that went rogue."
Ha-rin's stomach dropped.
"You're saying she's not just a loop fragment—she's hosting an unstable Echo?"
Before he could answer—Broken Ha-rin stepped fully out of the glass.
Her feet hit the floor without sound.
Her form glowed faintly at the edges—pixels flickeringstutteringlike reality wasn't fully convinced she should exist.
Ha-rin's hand tightened reflexively around Jae-hyun's shirt.
He didn't look away from the threat.
But his free hand slid until their fingers intertwined again, grounding her.
Broken Ha-rin's eyes went straight to their joined hands.
Her smile cracked.
"You're holding him," she whispered."Even now."
Ha-rin swallowed hard.
"Why does that matter?"
Broken Ha-rin's head jerked—just slightly.
Her voice emerged in layers again.
"…because he was mine first…"
Jae-hyun stiffened.
"No," he said coldly. "You were a simulation. A test. A failed scenario. She's real."
Broken Ha-rin blinked slowly.
When she opened her eyes—
Her tears were glitching blue.
"You think I don't know?" she whispered."You think I don't remember every loop where you died for her? Every time I tried to save you, and she pulled you away?"
Ha-rin stepped back instinctively.
Broken Ha-rin's gaze snapped to her.
"You didn't deserve him then," she hissed."And you don't deserve him now."
Jae-hyun moved in front of Ha-rin like a shield.
"Touch her," he warned quietly, "and I'll break your entire existence."
Broken Ha-rin laughed softly.
"You think you can destroy me? I'm the version of her that survived her death."
Ha-rin froze.
"My… death?"
"You don't remember," Broken Ha-rin whispered, gaze softening."But I do. In one loop, you died trying to save him."
Jae-hyun's breath caught.
"What?" Ha-rin whispered.
"And you left me behind," Broken Ha-rin continued."You died. He died. Echo broke.""And the only thing left was me."
Ha-rin felt faint.
Jae-hyun grabbed her hand again, anchoring her.
"No," he murmured. "We don't trust anything she says."
Broken Ha-rin tilted her head.
"You don't have to trust me."She raised her hand—and the lights flickered in sync with her pulse."He will show you."
And suddenly—
Ha-rin's chest burned.
A searing pulse.
Echo screamed inside her thoughts:
"…INCOMING—MEMORY SPIKE—PROTECTOR CONFLICT—"
She gasped and stumbled.
Jae-hyun caught her mid-collapse.
Broken Ha-rin's smile widened.
"See?" she whispered."You're not built to handle him. You'll shatter. Just like I did."
The burn in Ha-rin's chest deepened.
Echo's hum became chaotic, panicked.
"…she's forcing a sync… rejection protocol failing… constant overload…"
Jae-hyun lifted Ha-rin into his arms in one smooth motion.
Her fingers clutched at him weakly.
"Jae…" she whispered, dizzy. "Something's… pulling…"
"I've got you," he breathed, voice dangerously calm. "Stay with me."
Broken Ha-rin took a step forward.
Jae-hyun backed away, tightening his hold.
Her voice softened into something terrifyingly gentle.
"Let me fix you," Broken Ha-rin whispered."Let me make us whole again."
Jae-hyun snarled.
"She doesn't need you."
Broken Ha-rin's expression cracked.
"She needs me more than you do."
"No," Ha-rin whispered, forcing her voice through the pain."I don't need you. I don't want you."
Broken Ha-rin's eyes flashed—hurt, jealous, violent.
"Of course you choose him," she whispered bitterly.
Not Ha-rin.
But her own glitching reflection turned against her.
Jae-hyun leaned close to Ha-rin's ear—his breath warm against her skinhis heartbeat trembling against her palms.
"Ha-rin," he murmured, voice breaking despite his calm, "look at me."
She lifted her gaze weakly.
His eyes were raw.Desperate.Fiercely, beautifully alive.
"No one replaces you," he whispered."No loop. No copy. No echo."His forehead pressed to hers."You are the only version I love."
Her heart stuttered.
Echo surged inside her—a protective pulse of warmth.
"…constant selection reinforced… override possible…"
Broken Ha-rin screamed.
"No!" she shrieked. "STOP CHOOSING EACH OTHER!"
The floor vibrated.Lights exploded overhead.The safe node collapsed into flickering fragments of time—half realhalf loophalf glitch.
Jae-hyun shielded Ha-rin with his entire body—
and Echo screamed one last word through her chest:
"…RUN—NOW—"