Rin stood on the rooftop of their new tech lab, watching the neon signs flicker to life as the city of Seoul returned to a familiar rhythm. Below, the world continued moving, unaware of how close it had come to collapse—again.

Inside, Rae tested new neural dampeners designed to counteract subliminal influence. She had insisted on trying them on herself first. Ji Woo monitored readings nearby, making small adjustments.

“Still think these will make a difference?” Rae asked.

Ji Woo glanced over. “If we can stop one mind from being hijacked, it’s worth it.”

Rin joined them. “We’re not just fixing damage anymore. We’re building shields before the arrows fly.”

Rae cracked a grin. “Poetic. Who taught you that?”

“Mom,” Rin said. “When we were kids. After I broke the neighbor’s mailbox.”

They all laughed. For a moment, things felt normal.

At the detention center, Seo Jin received a heavily redacted letter. She read it with interest, eyes scanning quickly. Then she whispered a name.

"Reika."

The guard outside noticed her smirk, but said nothing.

That night, Bong Soon invited everyone to a family dinner. Homemade kimchi stew. Side dishes. Laughter.

Rae watched Rin laugh over an awkward story Min Hyeok was retelling. Seul showed Ji Woo a new trick involving magnetic pulses and levitating spoons.

For the first time in weeks, nobody was checking monitors.

No sirens. No encrypted messages.

Just peace.

Rin stood up quietly, walking out to the porch. Rae followed.

The moon hung full above them, soft and silver.

“Think we’ll get to keep this peace?” Rae asked.

Rin thought for a moment. “Only if we’re willing to protect it without becoming what we fight.”

Rae nodded. “Then I guess we keep the lights on. Just in case.”

They clinked glasses—ginger soda and warm tea.

For tonight, they had silence. And strength.