The redacted file was thin—just a few lines of heavily censored data, a grainy photo, and a name: Reika. No surname. No birthplace. No affiliations.

But Seo Jin recognized the face immediately.

Reika had once been the ghost in Mi Na’s shadow. The contingency no one ever mentioned aloud. She wasn’t part of Blue Star’s hierarchy—she was beyond it.

A theorist, tactician, and psychological architect. If Mi Na built the system, Reika designed the ideology.

Now she was in play.

Rin met with Ji Woo early that morning in the basement archives of the Do Legacy Network. Ji Woo slid a folder across the table.

"This is what we have. Not much. Reika vanished seven years ago after a failed ethics tribunal in Zurich. She was labeled too radical—even for Mi Na."

Rin scanned the file. “So why resurface now?”

“She didn’t,” Ji Woo replied. “Someone wants us to know she exists. Seo Jin didn’t just get that letter. She wanted it to be found.”

Rae, meanwhile, was in the field. Several drone outposts along Korea’s eastern coast had gone offline. She investigated the site near Sokcho—only to find the drone tech had been upgraded.

Subtle. Sleek. More efficient.

Too advanced for anyone still under surveillance.

Rae tapped her comm. “We’ve got a ghost engineer. These specs weren’t in circulation even during the Mi Na days.”

Rin’s voice came through: “We think it’s Reika.”

Rae paused. “I thought she was a myth.”

“She’s real. And she’s leaving breadcrumbs.”

That night, a coded transmission reached the Do lab—on an old emergency channel thought to be defunct. No sender. Just one sentence:

"The next revolution won’t be televised—it’ll be internalized."

Ji Woo decrypted the origin. Not Korea. Not even Asia.

“London,” she said. “And then rerouted six times through Arctic relays.”

Rin stared at the screen. “She’s inviting us to follow.”

Rae’s jaw tightened. “Then let’s accept the invitation. But we don’t follow. We hunt.”