The city lights of Seoul glimmered beneath a haze of spring rain as Hana and Sigma moved through the back alleys of Yongsan. The boy—still dazed, his eyes flickering with residual interference—stumbled behind her. Hana kept one hand on the grip of her pistol and the other lightly touching the jammer strapped to her waist. She didn't know how long Sigma's free will would last.
At the top of the Namsan tower, an encrypted signal pulsed like a heartbeat. Mika's voice came through Hana's comms.
"They've moved Prototype 02 to a facility under Han River. Black site. Almost no data. You're walking blind."
"Not the first time," Hana replied dryly.
Suddenly, Sigma grabbed her wrist. His voice trembled, a whisper beneath layers of fear and static.
"They… burned my name. Replaced it with code. But… I remember… Seojun."
Hana blinked. A name. Not a designation. Not a weapon.
"You're not a number to me," she said. "You're Seojun now. And we're getting your life back."
Just then, the streetlights flickered—then died. The hum of approaching drones filled the air. From the shadows, black-suited figures emerged, faces hidden behind masks bearing the Sigma insignia.
"They found us," Hana muttered. She shoved Seojun behind her. "Run if you can. Fight if you must."
The first drone dive-bombed them.
Seojun caught it mid-air with inhuman speed—and crushed it.
His eyes lit up—not blue. Not brown.
Gold.
Something new had awakened.