The staircase groaned under their steps. With every footfall, the air thickened—like they were descending not just underground, but into memory itself.

Rin’s flashlight cut through the dark, bouncing off metal walls lined with rusted pipes and old wires. Rae stayed close, fists clenched, eyes scanning for movement.

They reached the bottom. A heavy metal door stood before them, sealed with a handprint scanner—one still glowing, still functional.

Rin hesitated, then reached out. The scanner blinked red.

Rae stepped forward. "Try mine."

She pressed her palm to the glass.

It blinked green. The door hissed and slid open.

They stepped into a room that didn’t feel like it belonged underground. Sleek. Silent. Filled with glass cases and locked drawers.

Everything was pristine. Preserved.

A wall display flickered to life.

PROJECT: LEGACY 001 — INITIAL SUCCESS RATE: 12%
TEST SUBJECTS: 23
SURVIVORS: 3

Rae’s voice was low. “What the hell is this place?”

Rin walked up to one of the glass cases. Inside was a blood-stained training gi with their family crest embroidered on the sleeve.

“I think,” Rin said, “this is where it all started. Not just the formula—us.”

A new screen activated. Footage. Old and grainy.

A woman who looked eerily like Bong Soon—fighting, screaming, lifting weights that bent iron, all while hooked up to machines.

Rin swallowed. “That’s not Mom.”

“No,” Rae said, stepping closer. “That’s Grandmother.”

The video ended. Another file opened.

A log entry. Mi Na’s voice played over static:

"Test subject A13 displayed immense potential but regressed under emotional strain. Notes: Strength cannot rely on feeling. It must be coded into the body. Into the bones."

Rin looked at Rae. "She wanted to erase what made us human."

Before Rae could respond, a door slammed shut behind them.

The lights dimmed. Gas hissed from the ceiling.

A voice filled the chamber.

Mi Na.

"You came to find the truth. So breathe it in. Let it seep into your blood. Let the legacy teach you what your mother never could."

Rae grabbed Rin, yanking her toward the exit—but it was sealed.

The floor panels buzzed under their feet.

A countdown started flashing on the walls:

EXPOSURE PROTOCOL — 00:59... 00:58...

Rin hacked at the control panel. Rae braced for a fight.

As the timer ticked, one thing became crystal clear:

Mi Na wasn’t trying to stop them from knowing the truth.

She was testing what they’d do with it.