The elevator doors slid open on the eighth floor, letting in a rush of noise from the construction site that had become LUNE's future. Paint fumes and the hum of drills hung thick in the air, mingling with the perfume of sawdust and ambition. Joon-ho stepped out first, Harin right on his heels, clipboard in hand, hair pulled into a severe ponytail as if ready to wage war with any foreman who stepped out of line.
For a moment, they just stood there—surveying what would soon be theirs. The place looked nothing like the empty, echoing space they'd first toured a month ago. Glass panels gleamed under fresh lights, white walls bore the ghostly outlines of where the LUNE logo would be mounted, and sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the city in gold and silver.
Joon-ho dragged a knuckle along the edge of the new reception desk, admiring the glossy lacquer. "Not bad," he said, voice just loud enough to make a pair of workers look up and then duck back to their task.
