The sirens had faded, but in their place came a new sound—grinding engines, the clatter of metal on broken stone, the guttural shouts of men.
Min-joon froze where he crouched beneath a shattered overpass, Lin leaning heavily against him. Keller pressed his back to the crumbling concrete, his pistol drawn, his face taut with suspicion. Hwan only smiled faintly, as if he had been waiting for this.
Headlights cut through the choking dust, scattering shadows across the ruins. Vehicles—old trucks retrofitted with scavenged armor, mesh plating, spikes of rebar welded like teeth. Figures clung to the sides, rifles slung across their shoulders, masks covering faces burned by ash and sun.
"Militias," Keller muttered. His voice was low but sharp, like the scrape of steel on stone. "Scavenger packs. Saw plenty in Busan after the fall. Hyenas that tear at what the abyss leaves behind."
Min-joon's jaw clenched. "Hyenas or not, they're armed. We need to move before—"
A spotlight flared across the avenue, blinding them.
"Too late," Keller finished bitterly.
Shouts erupted. The convoy skidded to a halt, doors slamming open. Boots hit pavement. Within seconds, they were surrounded—floodlights mounted on trucks glaring into the ruins, rifles trained, voices barking orders in rapid-fire Korean.
"Drop your weapons!" one shouted. Another followed, louder: "On the ground! Hands where we can see!"
Min-joon raised his empty hand, keeping his body between Lin and the lights. Keller didn't lower his pistol, though he shifted it slightly downward, teeth gritted.
From the crowd stepped their leader—tall, wrapped in scavenged body armor painted with crude symbols. His mask was half-burned, one eye visible beneath the cracked visor. He carried a rifle in one hand, but his stance was casual, cocky.
"Well, well," the man drawled. "What do we have here? Strays wandering the bones of the city." His gaze landed on Lin, slumping against Min-joon. He tilted his head, as though appraising a prize animal. "That one's hurt. Bad. But he's glowing. And anything that glows down here…" His grin was audible through the mask. "…is valuable."
Min-joon stiffened. "He's not yours."
The leader chuckled. "Everything here is ours. The corpses, the weapons, the tech. Even people, if they're worth enough. And he?" He gestured at Lin. "He's worth more than you can imagine. The surface governments pay high for abyss-marked freaks. Hand him over, and maybe we let you walk."
Keller took a step forward, pistol raised fully now. "Try and take him, and see how many of your men drop before I do."
The spotlight swung, catching the fresh blood across Lin's arm, the faint shimmer of black runes beneath his skin. Murmurs rippled through the scavengers—fear mixed with greed.
The leader raised a hand, steadying his pack. "Easy. We don't want to waste bullets. Just the glowing one."
Lin stirred then, forcing his head up. His voice was hoarse, ragged, but it carried.
"I'm not… yours."
The runes across his chest flickered like coals stoked by wind. The chains beneath his skin writhed.
Min-joon felt it instantly—the shift in the air, the prickle of static, the growing wrongness. He turned, alarm flashing in his eyes. "Lin—don't. Hold it back. Please."
But Lin's heartbeat thundered, louder than his breath, louder than the scavengers' shouts. With every pulse, the abyss answered. The chains wanted out.
The leader's grin faltered as the ground beneath Lin cracked. "What the hell—"
The chains exploded.
Black tendrils tore through the pavement, lashing upward like vipers. They punched through the nearest truck, ripping metal apart with shrieks of tearing steel. One wrapped around a soldier, snapping him into the air before hurling him screaming into the rubble. Another split the floodlight in half, plunging the street into chaotic shadow.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets whined and sparked as they struck the chains, but they didn't slow. The tendrils weaved like predators, striking faster than eyes could follow.
Min-joon clutched Lin's arm, shouting through the chaos. "Stop! Lin, stop! You're killing them!"
But Lin wasn't commanding. He could feel it—the chains were no longer listening. They were feeding, thrashing, hunting. His mind reeled, screaming at them to stop, but his body was only a passenger now.
Keller fired into the dark, trying to pick off scavengers rushing closer, but even he risked being struck as a chain lashed past him, cracking the asphalt where he stood. He shouted over the storm: "You think this is control? This is what I warned you about!"
Hwan stood back, face illuminated by the flash of muzzle fire, eyes wide with awe. His whisper was almost tender. "Magnificent."
A chain whipped past Min-joon, nearly slicing him open. He didn't flinch. Instead, he grabbed Lin by both shoulders, shaking him hard.
"Lin! Listen to me! Look at me!" His voice was raw, desperate, breaking with every word. "You're still here—you're you! Don't let it take that! Don't let it win!"
Lin's vision blurred, drowning in smoke and screams. He wanted to answer, to hold onto Min-joon's voice like an anchor. But the chains surged again, coiling around another scavenger and dragging him into the dark.
The leader screamed orders, but his voice was lost to panic. His men scattered, some firing blindly, others fleeing into the ruins.
And then, as suddenly as it had erupted, silence fell.
The chains hung in the air, dripping with dust and blood, twitching like serpents tasting the air. Slowly, they receded, sinking back beneath Lin's skin, leaving only cracked pavement and corpses in their wake.
Lin collapsed, gasping, trembling violently. His eyes were wide with horror. His hands shook as if they were soaked in blood, though they were clean.
"I didn't… I didn't mean…"
Min-joon caught him, pulling him close. "I know. I know. You're still here. You're still you." His own voice shook, but he forced it steady. "Just hold on."
Keller stood rigid, his pistol still raised, his face pale with fury and fear. "Don't you dare tell me he's still him." He gestured at the ruined street, the torn bodies. "That wasn't human. That was a massacre."
Min-joon shot him a glare, protective, defiant. "He fought it back. He came back. That's all that matters."
Keller spat into the dust, muttering a curse.
Above them, a flare burst into the night sky—a streak of red fire, hissing as it bloomed into light. The surviving scavengers had signaled.
Dozens of engines roared in the distance, answering the call. And beneath that mechanical thunder, something else stirred—something heavier, slower, echoing like a drumbeat of bone.
Hwan tilted his head back, smiling at the flare's glow. "Ah… the city wakes again. And it's hungry."
Min-joon tightened his grip on Lin, eyes darting to Keller. "We move. Now. Before they close in."
Keller hesitated only a second, then nodded, grim and sharp. "And if he loses control again—"
"He won't." Min-joon's voice was steel, unyielding. "Because I won't let him."
Together, they slipped into the ruins as the rumble of militias grew louder, carrying with them the shadow of what Lin had just unleashed.