The promotion changed things for Minjae in ways that weighed on him. It did not change the look on his face though. He walked into the office with that same calm nod. He set his bag down next to the desk with quiet care. He opened his laptop at the usual angle. All his movements stayed just like they were from the day before. Still, something was different underneath. It felt like a soft hum running below the surface.
Those three women noticed it each in their own way.
Ha Seori sat up in HR. She kept peeking through the glass wall that was set at just the right angle for her to see Minjae's desk. Her fingers hung over the keys without really typing much. The email on her screen sat half done. Her attention wandered whenever she spotted his face. It looked steady but distant. She recognized that expression. It meant his mind was way out ahead again.
Yuri carried a pile of quarterly reports toward the conference room. She saw how Minjae's gaze stuck on the data screen a bit longer than normal. He understood the numbers fine. He always did. But his thoughts seemed elsewhere. That small delay stood out for him. She slowed down as she went by his desk. She acted like she was looking at her phone for a notice. Then she caught a tiny twitch in his jaw. It was like he held something back.
Yura leaned on the break room doorframe. From there she spotted something others missed. It was a quick half smile that vanished when he realized she watched. That was not his standard polite one. This seemed smaller and more personal. Something real and open showed through.
She tilted her head a little. She muttered to herself about what had made him smile like that. No one else was nearby to hear.
Minjae kept quiet about it all. He went through his day with that steady mechanical feel. He sat in two meetings. He gave a brief talk on market ups and downs ahead. He answered questions right away without pause. He even threw in a light joke when a senior analyst fumbled with a chart. The room laughed. He smiled along. The routine wrapped up. But deep inside that smooth pace, an old feeling had woken up.
The last elevator ding signaled the end of work. The office cleared out. Desks sat empty. Screens went dark. Goodbyes faded into the steady air conditioning noise. Minjae stayed put. He wrapped up one more email. He shut the laptop. He glanced at his reflection in the window before getting up. His face gave away nothing about his next move.
He headed out the side door.
The hall he stepped into did not show up on any building plans. It hid behind a storage area that interns walked by every day. The path ended at a slim door. It needed a eye scan and code to open. The door slid back with a hiss. Cool recycled air slipped out. Inside waited quiet. The lab lights came on soft and clean as sensors picked up his steps. They hummed gently.
He let out a breath. It felt like relief almost. Here no one watched him. No forced laughs either. Just him and whatever pulled him forward.
The rune drawn in chalk sat on the main table. It looked the same as last night. He had not wiped it away. Part of him would not let him. The lines felt faint but they held a beat he sensed more than saw.
Tonight he did not plan to try some new idea. He wanted to check if it held steady. Was that spark just luck or the start of more.
He pulled on gloves. He turned on the spectrometer. He scanned the spot where the light had shown before. The results came back weak but clear. It showed a low pulse like static but without any push or rub to cause it. The rune itself gave off the signal. Not the room around it. And definitely not him.
That part stood out most.
It proved the rune did more than sit there. It had responded in some way. Short yes. But real.
He bent in closer. He followed the edges with his eyes only. The chalk held a faint shine that others would miss. To him it seemed to move. It matched a rhythm from deep in his past. His chest felt tight. He almost sensed it once more. That flow like wind across rough skin.
He recalled how his mind had eased that night. Not cut sharp by reason. But softened by letting go. Not control but freedom. Perhaps that held the answer. Not force but willingness.
He picked up the chalk once more. His hand moved sure and careful. Almost respectful. He drew line after line. Curve after curve. He matched the sizes exactly. He added the symbols in the order from those old human bases. The worn out spots where troops scratched marks they barely knew. Then they disappeared by morning.
When he finished he spoke the word soft. It came from no human language really. But he shaped it into sounds a voice could make.
"Veran."
The air went still.
Then a spark came. Like a pulse right underfoot.
The wave moved through the space. It touched the fine hairs on his arm. It crossed his chest. It reached right into his core. For that moment he lost who he was now. The number guy. The leader type. The quiet one at the desk. For that moment he turned back to his old self. The feel of soaring came back. Wide open. Hot and fierce. Unbound. It flowed through him like air in lungs that once breathed flame.
And then it was gone.
He dropped his hand. The room returned to silence, machines humming like nothing had changed. He exhaled through his nose, not in frustration, but in quiet contemplation.
"I can't summon it on command," he said under his breath. His voice echoed off the sterile walls. "Which means it's not willpower. Not repetition. It's—"
He trailed off, eyes falling to the stack of documents beside him. One particular page was creased from overuse: a civilian interview from Jeonju. The man in the report had lifted a car to save his daughter trapped beneath. An act physically impossible, yet witnessed. When asked how, the man had answered, *'I didn't think. I just moved. Like something else made the choice for me.'*
Not control. Clarity.
He scribbled a note into his logbook:
THEORY
— Runes = Containers
— Activation = Resonant spark
— Source = ??? (Emotion? Clarity? Life force?)
— "Veran" matches one known activation word
— Observable pulse confirmed
Then, in smaller handwriting beneath:
Recreate emotional state under clinical conditions. Compare variable inputs.
He leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The lab's lights felt harsher when fatigue crept in. His human body—fragile, finite—complained quietly in ways his old form never did. He missed endurance. He missed certainty.
Outside, Seoul's skyline stretched into the horizon. The company floor above him slept. Tomorrow there would be more deadlines, another meeting, more surface-level chatter about fiscal quarters and projections. Seori would probably comment on how pale he looked. Yura would joke that he was secretly part robot. Yuri would quietly swap his empty coffee mug for a fresh one without saying a word.
He almost smiled at the thought.
For a moment, the idea of returning to the ordinary world didn't feel like a burden—it felt like camouflage. A necessary disguise to keep this pursuit hidden. To keep himself hidden.
His phone buzzed.
He blinked, the sudden vibration breaking his rhythm. A group message appeared on the screen.
Seori: "Meeting moved to 10. Also, eat something."
Yura: [attached photo of instant noodles] "We know you're still working."
Yuri: ...
Minjae stared at the screen for a long time, thumb hovering but never typing a reply. The three of them—so different, yet somehow orbiting the same unspoken concern. The same quiet rhythm he couldn't quite push away.
He set the phone down.
"Tomorrow," he murmured.
He shut the notebook, powered down the spectrometer, and waited for the lights to dim one by one. When the final click echoed, he stepped out of the lab and let the door seal behind him with a hiss.
---
The next morning Minjae got to the office a little later than normal. The place was full of the usual morning rush. Phones rang nonstop. Printers hummed away. Someone near accounting laughed way too loud. But as soon as he stepped inside everything seemed to quiet down a bit. It was like the whole building slowed to match his step.
Yura leaned back in her chair and grinned at him. "Look who finally showed up. You are ten minutes late. That is almost like starting a revolt coming from you."
"Traffic held me up." He replied calmly while hanging up his jacket.
"At seven-thirty in the morning."
He skipped the response. Instead he just shrugged lightly. That made her let out a sigh like she had lost the round.
Seori walked past with two cups from the coffee machine. "This one is for you." She told him. She set it right on his desk before he had a chance to say no. "You look like you only got about three hours of sleep."
"It was more like four." He admitted.
"So you are owning up to it."
He looked her way with a small half smile. "You would fit right in as an auditor."
"I would pass on that." She said. "Auditors do not get to down this much coffee."
Yuri sat across the room keeping to herself. She stayed out of the talk but her eyes stuck on the bit of chalk dust still on his sleeve. She started to say something. Then she held back. He noticed her pause right as he glanced over.
"What is it?" He asked in a low voice.
"Nothing at all." She answered turning aside. "Just make sure you eat something."
He blinked feeling caught off guard. "That is the second time today someone has said that to me."
"Then you should pay attention the next time." She shot back without turning around.
He watched her for a second. Then he nodded slightly. No one else caught it.
The day pushed on with emails and data reports. Numbers started to run together in his head. Still under that he kept thinking back to the lab. To the instant when the air had thrummed at the sound of his words. It came across as alive somehow. Not just some kind of power surge. More like it knew him. Like an old force in the rune had shifted and looked his way. It seemed to murmur I remember you.
That idea hung around more than he wanted.
Come afternoon he realized he had been staring at an empty spreadsheet for a whole minute almost. Seoris face showed up in the glow of his monitor behind him.
"Minjae," She said softly. "Are you all right?"
He snapped out of it and shut the file. "Just worn out."
"You keep mentioning that these days."
"I have been worn out a lot these days."
Her mouth turned up but not into a full smile. "Promotions are meant to make folks feel good, not like they are being chased by ghosts."
He stopped for a beat not sure if he should chuckle or brush it off. "Guess I did not get the notice."
She looked at him a little longer. Like she was trying to see past the steady front. "You do not need to handle it all by yourself you know."
He faced her with a gentle look in his eyes. "Sometimes that is the only way to get through it."
Seori breathed out and nodded once. Then she headed off.
Once she left Minjae released a breath he did not know he was keeping in. Her comment struck deeper than she realized. Handling it all alone. That had defined his life for ages.
By the end of the day he made up his mind. He would give it another go that night. But he would change his approach.
No planning this time. No forcing it.
Just letting go.
That night he faced the rune once more. The chalk lines had mostly vanished by then. But the shape stayed clear in his thoughts. He skipped drawing it over. He shut his eyes instead. He recalled how it had stirred at first. The soft buzz in the air. The heat building in his chest. That feeling of being known.
He spoke the word not to trigger it. Just to bring it back. Veran.
No response came.
He let out his breath in a slow stream. Truth is that might be okay. Maybe staying steady is not about doing the same thing over. It is about finding the beat. And a beat needs time to build.
He pulled out his notebook for the last entry that evening. He jotted down.
It answers when I am not demanding.
It remembers when I forget what I am.
Perhaps that is the point.
He shut the cover. Switched off the lights. Walked out of the lab again. Frustration was gone now. But he felt sure about one part.
Whatever moved down there had not vanished.
It waited its turn.
And he did too.