By midnight, the city had become a network of resistance cells, each one relaying intel to Rin’s custom comms grid. Rae led ground teams, dismantling signal beacons across districts with brutal precision.

“Target six down,” Rae reported, panting, her arm smoking slightly from a near miss. “Moving to next quadrant.”

On the rooftop of the Eastern Broadcasting Center, Rin rerouted public frequencies to override Seo Jin’s subliminal triggers. “Hijacking frequencies now. Pumping out stabilizers and crowd-calming tones.”

Bong Soon’s voice cut in over comms. “Confirmed. Public agitation is down 20% in the last ten minutes.”

Rin let out a breath. “It’s working. But she’s adapting.”

In Busan, Seo Jin slammed a laptop closed, sparks flying. “She cracked the frequency layer?”

Her lieutenant nodded. “Half our range is jammed. We’re losing momentum.”

Seo Jin narrowed her eyes. “Then escalate. Flip the beacon grid to burn mode. Let’s see if they can fight fire and fear.”

Back in Seoul, power grids began to flicker. New signals hijacked emergency broadcasts and LED screens. People paused mid-run, mid-shout, frozen by hypnotic strobes of red and black light.

Rae shielded a child and shouted, “It’s direct visual manipulation! We need to black out the screens!”

“Already on it,” Rin replied. “Deploying AV scramblers. Pulling down city billboards now.”

Across the skyline, giant displays blinked off one by one.

Ji Woo patched in. “But she’s still transmitting from a high-altitude repeater above Incheon. That’s the heart of her signal web.”

Rae tightened her gloves. “Then we climb.”

At dawn, Rae and Rin stood before the Incheon signal tower, rising through the mist like a monument to madness. Guard bots whirred around it. Security drones hummed in circular patterns.

Rin smirked. “I hate heights.”

Rae grinned. “I love breaking things.”

With synchronized breath, they launched upward—ready to shut down the last pulse of fear with everything they had.