Seoul – Legacy HQ Rooftop, Pre-dawn

No cameras. No guards. No mission briefings.

Just Do Rae and Do Rin, perched on the edge of the rooftop where it all truly began—where they first trained, argued, laughed, cried. Where they first felt what it meant to be not just sisters, but inheritors.

The wind pulled gently at their jackets.

“You remember what you said the first night we came up here?” Rae asked.

“That this was either going to make us or break us.”

“You were wrong,” Rae said with a crooked smile. “It did both.”

Rin chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. We broke. We healed. We grew sharper.”

They let the silence stretch.

Beneath them, the city pulsed quietly. A heartbeat they now felt connected to—not as rulers, not as guardians, but as part of the fabric.

“If we had to choose again,” Rin said, “on that birthday when everything changed... would you still take it?”

Rae didn’t answer right away.

She thought of the injuries. The betrayal. The impossible choices. The weight.

She also thought of Jin Seok, of the kids they’d saved, of Bong Soon’s walnut tree, of every time her strength had held someone else up.

“Yeah,” Rae said softly. “I’d take it again. But this time... I’d take it with eyes open.”

Rin nodded slowly.

“Me too.”

“You think Mom ever regretted it?” Rae asked.

“I think she feared it more than she regretted it. But in the end, she gave it to us anyway.”

They looked out over Seoul as the sun started to rise, casting everything in gold.

Flashback — Ten Years Ago

Two teenage girls on this very rooftop. One anxious. One defiant.

A birthday cake between them, half-smashed from sparring too hard.

Rae: “What if we’re not ready?”

Rin: “We don’t have to be. We just have to show up.”

Back in the present, the grown women shared a smile—same words, new weight.

“This city doesn't need perfection,” Rin said, watching dawn push through the skyline.

“It needs truth,” Rae replied. “And maybe a little stubborn hope.”

“We can give it that.”