Interlude: Zeal

  The command center was unusually quiet, the hum of servers providing a low-frequency backdrop to the flickering blue light of the monitor. Rin was curled up on the edge of the sofa, her eyes fixed on the screen where a Star Wars marathon was playing.

  The heavy door slid open. Seonho stepped in, the weight of the world visible in the slight slump of his shoulders. Without a word, he set a cracked tablet down on the coffee table.

  Rin’s gaze shifted from the screen to the tablet, then up to Seonho, a silent question in her eyes.

  Seonho let out a long, weary sigh. "We got our lead," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Turns out Leeseo’s... unauthorized side mission paid off. Our trainees are actually starting to show some real promise."

  Rin let out a soft, knowing laugh. "See? You keep sidelining them, but we need all the help we can get. They’re helpful, Seonho. And more importantly—they’re full of heart."

  Seonho went to sit down, but his hand stopped mid-air. Resting on the cushion was a small, frayed pink bracelet. He picked it up, his thumb tracing the cheap plastic beads. "She... left this?"

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  "Yup," Rin said softly, turning her attention back to the data on the tablet. "Zeal... so they’re the real enemy."

  "The backbone of ANTI," Seonho confirmed, his voice hardening. "Wonjung apparently just founded that organization as a smoke screen to distract us from her true conquest. The clinical tests, the systematic brainwashing, the theft of powers... it’s all Zeal. And their leader? Still a ghost. No name, no face."

  "Wonjung has been playing a long game," Rin murmured, her eyes dark. "We don't even know where she's headed yet."

  Seonho’s gaze drifted toward the TV. On the screen, the silhouette of Darth Vader loomed, his hand outstretched as he used the Force to choke an officer into submission. The imagery felt uncomfortably familiar.

  "Leeseo is strong," Seonho said, his voice barely a whisper. "But against her..."

  Rin saw the doubt clouding his expression and offered a small, nostalgic smile. "Hey... remember when Sungmin used to race you? Back when you were just kids, running from the dorms all the way to the HQ entrance?"

  Seonho’s expression softened instantly. "I do."

  "You kept losing to him," Rin chuckled, the memory bringing a spark of life back into the room. "Day after day, he beat you. Then one day, you finally had enough. You snapped and Blinked right past him to the finish line."

  She laughed at the memory. "You were so braced for him to be angry, to call you a cheater. But instead, he just stood there and clapped. You were so stunned, wondering why he wasn't mad. And do you remember what he said?"

  Seonho’s lips curled into a genuine laugh—a rare sound these days. "He told me, 'We never talked about any rules. I didn't know why you never blinked in the first place.'"

  Rin leaned her head back, smiling at the ceiling. "You guys were so cute back then."

  The laughter faded into a comfortable, albeit heavy, silence. Seonho looked down at the pink bracelet in his hand, then back at the screen.

  "I miss him," Seonho said.

  Rin’s smile turned bittersweet as she looked at the empty spot on the couch where their friend should have been.

  "Me too..." Rin sighed. "and I miss General Gaeul."

  Seonho stood up. "San's squad advanced. I'm gonna have to meet with them soon."

  Rin nodded. "Good luck."