The night settled over Seoul like a heavy curtain.
No sirens.
No tremors.
Just a deep, unnatural quiet—something too still to belong to a living city.
Seo Joon stopped in front of the old community library, breathing shallowly. He hadn't meant to come here. His feet simply carried him, as if following a memory he didn't want to remember.
The air smelled faintly of dust and cold stone.
A soft fog rolled across the ground, brushing against his shoes.
Inside his pocket, his phone vibrated again—Lina's eighth message.
> Are you safe? Joon… please answer.
He stared at the screen for a long moment.
Then turned it off.
He wasn't ready to talk. Not after what he saw inside the Tower.
Not after hearing the name that had followed him since childhood.
The Weaver.
He shivered.
The library doors creaked as he pushed them open. The space inside was dark, except for a single lamp glowing weakly near the center table. Shadows clung to the shelves like silent creatures.
He walked deeper.
Every step echoed with an uncomfortable clarity—too sharp, too loud.
This place… didn't used to feel like this.
A draft moved past him, carrying the faint whisper of pages flipping. But no books had been opened. No wind should be inside.
He swallowed hard.
The world was changing.
And it wasn't waiting for humans to understand it.
A Book Out of Place
At the far end of the library, a single book lay on the floor.
He froze.
The cover was blank—no title, no author, nothing except a single symbol burned into the leather.
A crooked circle.
A line through the center.
A small dot at the top.
The same symbol carved inside the Tower.
Seo Joon's heartbeat quickened.
He crouched, reaching for it.
When his fingertips brushed the cover—
thump
The sound came from behind him.
He spun around.
The shelves were the same.
The shadows unchanged.
No footsteps.
No living presence.
But the air felt wrong again… like the space itself was breathing.
The Door
He lifted the book.
As soon as he did, the shelf directly in front of him… shifted.
The books pulled inward, sinking into the wood, folding like dissolving paper.
A seam appeared between the shelves—thin, vertical, glowing faintly with blue-white light.
A door that had never been part of the library.
Seo Joon's throat tightened.
"No… this wasn't here before."
A pulse of light escaped through the cracks and washed over the floor, illuminating the dust and old carpets. The glow had the same energy as the summoning circle in the sky. Cold. Hungry. Alive.
Inside his mind, a whisper formed—not a sound, but a pressure.
"You already opened the first path…"
He staggered backward, clutching his head.
The same whisper from the Tower.
The same presence.
The Weaver.
He Has to Choose
For a long moment, Seo Joon simply stood still, staring at the impossible door.
He could walk away.
Pretend it wasn't real.
Pretend he was still an ordinary student.
But deep inside, he knew the truth:
The Tower hadn't chosen him randomly.
And this door wasn't asking for permission.
It was waiting.
His hand trembled.
"It's never going to let me live a normal life, is it…?"
Silence answered him.
Then the light brightened, as if urging him to move.
He took a slow breath, steadying himself.
One step.
Then another.
He reached the handle—cold metal, yet strangely warm beneath his skin.
His heart pounded as he whispered:
"…Please don't let this be the end."
He pulled the door open.
And the world on the other side—
was not Seoul.