Legacy HQ – Sublevel Vault

The chamber was colder than usual, like the room itself knew something was about to shift.

Do Rin entered first, holding the encrypted coordinates sent by the dormant Mi Na protocol. Do Rae followed, tension already building in her shoulders.

The core vault door unsealed with a hydraulic hiss. Inside: a solitary terminal, humming.

On screen, a single line blinked:

“FINAL WHISPER PROTOCOL – AUTHORIZATION: DO LEGACY REQUIRED”

Rin placed her hand on the biometric pad.
Rae did the same.

The screen pulsed, then flickered to life.

A message began to play.

Mi Na’s voice, calm but tinged with something softer than they remembered.

“If you’re seeing this, I’m gone. But my work—the parts of it that mattered—can still mean something.”

“Inside this vault is a data cache containing neural mapping, cognitive development enhancements, and synthetically modulated emotion-balancing tech. In the right hands, it could eliminate pain. Fear. Anger. Violence.”

“In the wrong hands… it could erase what makes us human.”

The message paused.

Then resumed.

“This is my last choice. One I can’t make. Because I’ve already failed that test.”

“So I leave it to you. The heirs of strength.”

“Open the vault and release the tech to the world. Or lock it away forever.”

“One path saves lives. The other protects souls.”

“Choose.”

Silence.

The terminal gave two options:

[RELEASE CACHE]
[SEAL CACHE PERMANENTLY]

Do Rae stepped back. “This… this isn’t fair.”

“It’s more than fair,” Rin replied. “It’s the price of power.”

They argued quietly. Rae saw hope—real change, less suffering. Rin saw risk—manipulation, weaponization.

“What if this saves millions?” Rae said.

“What if it turns millions into something else?” Rin countered. “If you take away fear, you take away the reason for courage. If you erase pain, you forget what kindness feels like.”

They stood there.

Two sides of the same strength.

Then… together, they reached for the pad again.

And chose.

The screen flashed: [CACHE SEALED]

A confirmation appeared:

"Humanity must grow with its wounds. The Legacy agrees."

The vault sealed.

Permanently.

Later – Training Room Balcony

The sisters sat in silence, the stars above them distant and cold.

“We did the right thing,” Rin said.

“I know,” Rae replied.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“No,” Rae whispered. “But maybe it will someday.”

Below them, the lights of Seoul flickered.

The world kept turning.

But something had shifted.

They weren’t just protectors anymore.

They were guides.