[Lost Chapter Progress: 11% → 19%]
The train screeched to a stop with a sound that seemed to come from deep inside Kim Dokja's skull. The doors opened, not to a platform, but to a memory.
And not his.
A familiar city burned in the distance. The Han River was black with ash. Bridges lay collapsed like broken limbs. Buildings stood twisted, melting under a crimson sky.
"Is this…" Shin Yoosung whispered, stepping forward. "Seoul?"
"No," Kim Dokja said slowly, his voice strained. "Not ours."
Above the ruined skyline, glowing in impossible script, floated a system message:
[Scenario 12: The Fall of Seoul — Divergent Reconstruction]
Another timeline. Another version of events. One they had never lived.
Han Sooyoung exhaled low. "This is the draft where the Seoul Dome collapsed on the first day. Everyone inside died. The rest of the city turned into a giant scenario maze."
Joonghyuk said nothing. His knuckles were white around his sword.
"This was supposed to be scrapped," he finally said.
"It was," came a voice.
The girl — or whatever she had become — stood near the edge of a collapsed highway, her silhouette flickering like a glitch in the frame.
"Why are you showing us this?" Kim Dokja demanded.
"Because you thought it didn't matter," she said. "Because your narrative erased this version as 'unrealistic'… too tragic. But for me, it was home."
A gust of hot wind rushed past, carrying with it the smell of ozone and burnt paper.
[Begin Trial 2: Correct the Chosen Memory, or Accept Its Inclusion.]
[Objective: Resolve the rewritten history.]
Han Sooyoung's mouth twisted. "So, what — we fix the memory, or it becomes part of the main story?"
Kim Dokja stared at the city. "Either way, the narrative changes."
Yoo Joonghyuk had already stepped forward. "Then let's cut it out."
But as soon as his foot touched the charred ground, the world reacted.
A pulse of golden ink rippled out from the pavement, and from the shadows of the ruined buildings, figures began to form — people.
Civilians.
Panicking.
Burning.
Screaming.
"Help! Please—"
One by one, they ran to the party.
And one by one, they stopped, staring straight at Kim Dokja.
"You knew," one woman whispered. "You read this version."
"I didn't—"
"You skipped it," another said. "You called it 'bad pacing' and 'overkill.'"
"I didn't write this!" Kim Dokja shouted.
"But you remembered, didn't you?" The girl stepped through the smoke. "Even the deleted scenes leave a mark. And now they want justice."
[Warning: Your Narrative Core is under external review.]
[Warning: Guilt Resonance Detected.]
Kim Dokja stumbled back. His heart pounded with something worse than fear — shame. Not because he had done something wrong… but because he had turned the page.
Han Sooyoung moved to stand beside him. "Dokja-ssi. Don't let them rewrite you."
"I'm not."
But even he wasn't sure.
A child emerged from the ruins — holding a tattered, partially burnt copy of Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse. The cover flickered between his world and hers.
"You didn't save me in your version," the boy said.
Kim Dokja dropped to one knee. "I know. I know. But I'm here now. And if this part of the story needs to be remembered, then I'll carry it."
[System Message: Guilt has been acknowledged.]
[Reconstructing Memory: Partial Inclusion Approved.]
The city trembled.
Not collapsing — realigning.
The buildings reshaped. The sky began to lighten. The people faded, not in erasure, but in peace. The scenario became history, not a ghost.
[Trial 2: Complete.]
[Lost Chapter Progress: 19% → 36%]
Kim Dokja rose.
The others stared at him, silent.
It was Yoo Joonghyuk who spoke first. "…You accepted it."
"It wasn't a flaw," Kim Dokja replied. "Just a version of the story that didn't win. That doesn't make it wrong."
Han Sooyoung crossed her arms. "You do know that the more of these you let in, the harder it'll be to hold on to your original thread?"
"I know."
"Then why?"
"Because if I don't," he said quietly, "I'm no better than the constellations who cherry-picked our pain for entertainment."
The silence was heavy. Shin Yoosung looked down at her feet.
Then the girl turned away.
"I wonder," she said softly. "How much of your narrative can survive the weight of everything you ignored?"
The train whistled from behind them.
Time to move on.
They stepped back aboard.
As the doors closed, Kim Dokja stared one last time at the reconstructed city — a Seoul that never was, yet somehow now always would be.
And above, just faintly:
[Scenario 12: Preserved — Shadow Canon]
End of Chapter 22