The next morning, the Do sisters found themselves at the National Assembly Hall. Not as fighters, but as advisors. Invitations had been extended to a classified roundtable on emergent neural tech, one hosted under the guise of humanitarian ethics reform.

Reika’s containment was already sparking global conversation. Some feared her ideology might outlive her imprisonment. Others whispered about sympathizers still in the system.

Rin sat beside Ji Woo, scanning data from overnight intercepts. “Someone leaked our location in the North Sea,” she said.

Ji Woo tapped her screen. “We’ve traced it to a civilian contractor in Brussels. High clearance. Disappeared after your mission.”

Rae joined them, reading the decrypted messages. “And they mentioned ‘Protocol Phoenix.’ Whatever that means, it’s not over.”

Later that day, Bong Soon and Min Hyeok met their daughters at the Legacy Network’s new tech hub. Construction crews worked in the background, rebuilding infrastructure to prevent future mind-hacking threats.

“We’re proud of you both,” Min Hyeok said. “But you don’t have to carry this forever.”

Rae smiled. “We know. That’s why we’re building something new—so we don’t have to.”

Bong Soon squeezed Rin’s hand. “Your strength has never just been power. It’s how you use it.”

Rin looked out over the city skyline. “Then we’ll use it right.”

That night, at a quiet park lit by lanterns, the sisters walked alone.

Children played nearby. Couples strolled in peace. No one knew how close they’d come to collapse—or who had stopped it.

Rin tossed a rock into the pond. “We saved the world again.”

Rae grinned. “And didn’t even ask for a parade.”

They laughed together, the sound light and real.

For the first time in weeks, there was no code to crack, no enemy to track. Just two sisters, breathing in a world they helped preserve.