For a moment, Ha-rin thought she had died.
Silence.No wind.No sound.No pressure.
Just white.
A white so bright it wasn't light—but nothingness.
She floated in it—weightless, breath suspended in her chest.
Her fingers twitched.
Nothing.
Her voice whispered.
Nothing.
Even her heartbeat struggled.
"...Jae-hyun?"
The sound went nowhere.It didn't echo.Didn't scatter.Didn't exist.
Panic rushed through her veins.
He wasn't here.
She wasn't in her body.She wasn't in the safe node.She wasn't in any version of time she could recognize.
She was—
"…in the sync gap…"
Echo's voice came faintly.Like a hum inside her bones rather than her ears.
"Echo?"
"…your consciousness is suspended…your anchor is missing…"
"My anchor—?"
Before Echo could answer—
A faint warmth touched her palm.
Soft.Human.Familiar.
Someone grabbed her hand.
Hard.
"Ha-rin."
Jae-hyun's voice cracked through the emptiness like fire tearing through snow.
Her breath returned in a rush.
"Jae-hyun—where—?"
He pulled her close suddenly, arms tight around her waist, chest pressed to her back.
She felt him shaking—just slightly—but enough to know he had been terrified too.
"You're here," he breathed against her ear."God, you're here."
She turned in his embrace.
He kept holding her as if any second she would vanish again.
Their eyes met in the impossible white void.
Only them.No time.No ground.No sky.
Just two heartbeats—finding each other in nowhere.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
He shook his head.
"I don't know."His fingers slid through her hair."But I'm not letting go."
Her throat tightened.
"Jae… were you scared?"
He didn't hide it.
His forehead came to rest against hers.
His voice was barely a whisper.
"I thought I lost you. Again."
Her breath hitched.
She placed her hand on his cheek.
"You didn't lose me."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like it was the only real thing in existence.
A tremor ran through him.
She had never seen him this vulnerable.
Never seen his mask fall away completely.
Never seen the man behind all the versions of himself.
So she held him—arms looping around his neck,their bodies pressed together in the soft white space—and whispered:
"I'm here. I'm right here."
He let out a breath that sounded like he'd been holding it for a lifetime.
His grip tightened around her waist.
"And I'm not letting you go," he murmured, voice raw."Not in this world, not in the next, not in any loop—"
Suddenly a ripple of static cracked behind them.
The white space flickered—just slightly.
Jae-hyun tensed immediately.
His arms moved around her, shielding her even though nothing was visible.
"Jae-hyun…" she whispered.
"Stay behind me," he said instinctively.
"Stop doing that," she whispered, clinging to him. "We're in this together."
He looked back at her over his shoulder—
Eyes soft.Deep.Full of emotions she didn't dare name out loud.
"You're right."He exhaled."We're together. Always."
She squeezed his hand, intertwining their fingers.
And that's when—
A shape appeared.
Not walking.Not forming.
Just appearing.
Broken Ha-rin.
Not glitching.Not screaming.Not monstrous.
Just…
Small.
Fragile.
Barefoot.Dress torn.Expression blank.Like a ghost of a choice never made.
Her voice was faint.
"...it hurts."
Ha-rin's heart cracked open.
"Where does it hurt?" she asked softly.
Broken Ha-rin lifted her trembling hands.
Her palms flickered—one moment whole,the next moment scattering into digital dust.
"I'm… fading."
Jae-hyun pulled Ha-rin closer unconsciously.
Broken Ha-rin noticed.
Her voice cracked.
"You still choose each other here."
Ha-rin swallowed.
"Broken Ha-rin… where are we?"
Broken Ha-rin lifted her eyes.
"You're in the space between timelines," she whispered."The Sync Gap."
Jae-hyun stiffened.
"That sounds like a trap."
Broken Ha-rin shook her head.
"No. This is where Echo brought you to survive the collapse."She pointed at Ha-rin's chest."But your Echo isn't strong enough to hold both of you long."
Ha-rin blinked.
"Both…?"
Broken Ha-rin smiled faintly.
"You are anchored by him."Her eyes softened painfully."And he is anchored by you."
Jae-hyun's breath hitched.
"So if one of us is separated—?"
"You fall into the loop's void," Broken Ha-rin finished."And you never come back."
Ha-rin felt cold.
Jae-hyun tightened his grip.
"I'm not letting that happen."
Broken Ha-rin looked at him for a long moment.
Her gaze slowly turned sorrowful.
"I used to hear you say that," she whispered."In the loops.When she died.When you died.When time collapsed."
Ha-rin felt her chest twist with pain.
Broken Ha-rin's voice broke.
"You two kept choosing each other even when it killed you."
Jae-hyun's eyes narrowed.
"And you hate us for it."
Broken Ha-rin shook her head.
"No."Her tears flickered like broken pixels."I was jealous."
Ha-rin took a tiny step forward.
"Broken Ha-rin… is that why you tried to replace me?"
Broken Ha-rin's throat worked.
"I didn't know what else to do."A pause."I thought if I became you… he would look at me like he looks at you."
Jae-hyun's jaw tightened.
"He never would."
Broken Ha-rin's eyes shimmered.
"I know that now."
Another ripple tore through the white space.
Echo's voice surged weakly through Ha-rin's pulse:
"…time limit… sync gap destabilizing…"
Ha-rin gasped.
"Echo… what do we do?"
"…anchor to emotional constants… embrace… connection…"
Jae-hyun blinked.
"Did Echo just tell us to—?"
"Yes," Ha-rin breathed."He did."
Broken Ha-rin's voice trembled.
"You have to choose," she whispered."Or you'll fall apart like I did."
Jae-hyun's gaze met Ha-rin's.
And suddenly the void didn't feel cold anymore.
His hand moved to her cheek.
Her breath caught.
His voice dropped to a soft, trembling whisper.
"Ha-rin… let me anchor you."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She nodded, unable to speak.
He pulled her gently, carefully, into his arms—slow, deliberate, reverent.
Her forehead rested against his collarbone.His chin brushed her hair.His arms wrapped around her waist like he was made to hold her.
The white space vibrated—stabilizing around their warmth.
Broken Ha-rin watched—eyes softening, breaking, healing all at once.
"You two…" she whispered,"you're the loop's constant."
Ha-rin lifted her head slightly, face close to Jae-hyun's.
"What does that mean?"
Broken Ha-rin pointed at their intertwined forms.
"You break…and you create…every timeline."
Jae-hyun's voice turned low and steady.
"So how do we leave this place?"
Broken Ha-rin's expression softened with a sad smile.
"You need one thing."
"What?" Ha-rin whispered.
Broken Ha-rin stepped forward—reached out—and touched Ha-rin's chest, right over Echo.
Her touch didn't hurt.
It soothed.
"You need to remember the moment," she whispered,"the moment the loops began."
Ha-rin froze.
Jae-hyun's breath hitched.
Broken Ha-rin stepped back, fading at the edges.
"You've forgotten it," she whispered."But if you remember…time will open for you."
She looked so tired.
So lonely.
Ha-rin took a shaky step toward her.
"Broken Ha-rin—wait—"
Broken Ha-rin smiled softly.
"It's okay."Her voice faded like wind."It's okay to let me go."A pause."You deserve to be whole.And I… deserve to rest."
Ha-rin felt tears escape her eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Broken Ha-rin closed her eyes.
"Find the moment," she murmured."The moment everything shattered…and everything began."
She faded.
Bit by bit.
Until only her voice remained:
"…find the rooftop."
The white space cracked.
Jae-hyun grabbed Ha-rin's shoulders.
"Ha-rin—look at me."
Their faces inches apart.
Breath mingling.
Eyes locked.
A spark pulsed through her.
The space ruptured.
Echo thundered through her chest:
"…ANCHOR LOCK… OPENING TIMELINE…"
White exploded into color—
And Ha-rin fell—
Straight into the memory of the rooftop.