: The Path to Salvation
Several days had passed since the attack, and the bunker was still recovering. Each morning began with inspections, bandaging, and minor repairs. The survivors, like ants after a flood, scurried through the corridors, crossing arms to check equipment, reinforcing barricades, and moving crates. The air carried the scent of smoke, blood, rusted metal, and sweat — a lingering reminder of the night's battle, like a scar that could not be washed away.
Min-jun and So-hyun spent almost all of these days in the laboratory. They worked without taking their eyes off the screens, fingers gliding over keyboards, touching sensors, entering data into tablets and holograms. Fatigue was visible in every glance, but so was determination. Min-jun often leaned close to So-hyun, his shoulder brushing against him, silently saying, "I'm here. I've got you." And So-hyun felt that support in the smallest touches: a fleeting brush of fingers on the keyboard, the warmth from Min-jun's hand as he leaned over the screen.
So-hyun leaned over a hologram, his eyes flickering with reflections from countless data points. The "Aether" energy they had begun studying proved far more complex than they had anticipated. It wasn't just connected to the portals — it controlled the virus, guided its mutations, and influenced the spread of Echo. It was a discovery that could either save or destroy their world.
"Min-jun… look," So-hyun said quietly, pointing at a graph. "This shows how Echo energy interacts with the virus. It accelerates its mutations but also makes it unstable. If we can channel this flow…" He hesitated, gripping the tablet. "…we could slow the virus."
Min-jun crouched beside him, eyes scanning the graphs, though he understood only part of the formulas. His military instincts recognized patterns in the chaos of numbers, and he felt that familiar sensation — precision, control, but also fear. He rested his elbow on the table and touched the bracelet on his wrist. It warmed slightly, as if resonating with So-hyun's words.
"I get it," Min-jun said, his voice low, hoarse from exhaustion but firm. "We can try to direct the energy… but if we make a mistake…" He clenched his fist. "…it could destroy everything around us."
So-hyun lifted his eyes, meeting Min-jun's gaze. There was resolve in them, mingled with anxiety and fatigue. "I know. But if we don't try…" He inhaled deeply, clutching his bracelet. "…we've already lost too much. We cannot let the virus win."
Min-jun leaned closer, barely touching So-hyun's hand. Their fingers met, and in that simple touch was the inexplicable connection that held them together in this world. No words, no explanations — just the feeling that they had to act, despite fear.
They immersed themselves even deeper into their work. Every step was calculated, every equation a potential path to salvation or ruin. So-hyun pointed at the hologram, explaining new data, while Min-jun adjusted instruments and checked connections. Their world had narrowed to these screens, these data points, and the energy shimmering in their crystals. The rest of the bunker, with its fears and destruction, faded into the background.
And in this chaos of the lab, amidst wires, flickering holograms, and heavy breathing, their hands always found each other. A fleeting brush of fingers, a gentle touch on the shoulder, a small gesture of reassurance — all anchors in a world where any moment could be the last. Their hearts beat in unison, and every glance said that together they could endure anything.