The truck hydroplaned on the wet highway.
"Slow down!" David Kim yelled, gripping the dashboard. "We're carrying a comatose patient and illegal server equipment!"
"We don't have time," Sae-ri kept her foot on the gas. Her eyes were fixed on the road, dark and slick with rain. "His neural synapses are degrading by 2% every hour. If we don't get him to the tank, he's gone."
In the back of the truck, Min-ji sat next to Yoo-jin's body. She was holding his hand. It was cold.
"He looks like a doll," Min-ji whispered. "Like when they turn us off between shoots."
Eden monitored the vitals. The android had plugged himself into Yoo-jin's neck port, acting as a temporary life support battery.
"I am stabilizing the bio-rhythm," Eden stated. "But his consciousness is not here. It is... buffering."
"Where are we going?" Sol asked, looking out the back window. "This isn't Seoul."
"Incheon," Sae-ri said. " The Free Economic Zone. Sector 9."
"That's a wasteland," Luna frowned. "It's all abandoned warehouses."
"Exactly," Sae-ri swerved to avoid a pothole. "That's where Mason built the first lab. Before the glitz. Before the tower. That's where Yoo-jin was born."
They arrived at midnight.
Sector 9 was a graveyard of industry. Rusted cranes loomed like dinosaur skeletons. In the center sat a nondescript concrete blockhouse. No signs. No lights.
"This is it?" David looked skeptical. "It looks like a parking garage."
"It's a bunker," Sae-ri killed the engine. "Get the stretcher."
They unloaded Yoo-jin. The rain soaked his clothes immediately. He didn't shiver.
"Eden, break the door," Sae-ri commanded.
Eden walked up to the rusted steel shutter. He didn't punch it. He placed his hand on the electronic lock.
Spark.
The lock fried. Eden lifted the heavy shutter with one hand.
CREAAAAK.
The smell of old chemicals and dust rolled out.
They pushed the stretcher inside. Flashlights cut through the darkness.
It wasn't a garage. It was a hospital. But not for people.
Rows of glass tanks lined the walls. Most were broken, jagged shards covering the floor. But in the center, a massive central computer sat dormant, covered in dust sheets.
"The Cradle," Eden whispered. "I remember this place. My first memory is that light fixture."
"Focus," Sae-ri ran to the central console. She wiped away twenty years of dust.
"David, power it up."
"I can't just plug it in," David looked at the ancient wiring. "This tech is from the 90s. It's analog."
"Use the truck's generator!" Min-ji yelled. "Jury-rig it!"
They ran cables from the truck to the console.
VROOOM.
The generator kicked in. The lights in the bunker flickered on. Buzzing fluorescent tubes illuminated the horror of the room.
On the walls were photos. Not of landscapes. Of faces.
Hundreds of them. All identical.
Han Yoo-jin. Han Yoo-jin. Han Yoo-jin.
"Oh god," Sol covered her mouth. "They're all him."
"Prototypes," Eden walked past the photos. "Subject 700 to 733. Failed iterations."
Sae-ri didn't look. She focused on the screen.
[System Booting...]
[Zenith Life Sciences OS v1.0]
[Welcome, Dr. Gold.]
"We're in," Sae-ri typed furiously. "I'm initiating the 'Recall Protocol'. It should pull his data from the local network cache."
[Error: Subject Not Found.]
[Data Fragmented.]
"It's not working!" Sae-ri slammed the console. "The Ghost said bring him to the Source! We're at the Source!"
"The console isn't the source," a voice came from the shadows.
Everyone spun around. Min-ji raised her bat.
Walking out from the back room was a man. He wore a dirty lab coat. He had long, gray hair and a beard that reached his chest. He looked like a homeless wizard.
"Who are you?" Sae-ri demanded.
The old man laughed. It was a dry, rattling sound.
"I'm the janitor," he said. He walked over to Yoo-jin's body. He poked Yoo-jin's cheek with a dirty finger.
"Subject 734. The successful one. I wondered when you'd come back."
"Get away from him!" Min-ji stepped forward.
"Wait," Eden stopped her. "I know his biometric signature."
Eden looked at the old man.
"Dr. Kang?" Eden asked. " The Chief Geneticist?"
The old man grinned, revealing yellow teeth.
"I haven't been a doctor in a long time, robot boy. Mason fired me when I told him the clones had souls."
Dr. Kang looked at Sae-ri.
"You're trying to download a ghost into a meat suit using a USB cable. It won't work."
"Then tell us what works!" Sae-ri pleaded. "He's dying."
"He's not dying," Dr. Kang walked to a large, circular tank in the corner. It was filled with murky green liquid. "He's lost. His mind is wandering the digital plane, looking for a body that matches his frequency."
"Frequency?"
"A clone isn't just DNA," Dr. Kang tapped the glass. "It's a resonance. To pull him back, you need to recreate the exact emotional state of his creation."
"His creation?" David asked.
"Pain," Dr. Kang said simply. "And purpose."
He pointed to the tank.
"Put him in the amniotic fluid. It's conductive. Then... you have to sing to him."
"Sing?" Luna asked. "Like a lullaby?"
"No," Dr. Kang's eyes were sharp. "Like a beacon. You need a song that defines him. A song that reminds his subconscious why he exists."
Sae-ri looked at the murky tank. It looked like a coffin.
"Do it," she said.
They stripped Yoo-jin down to his boxers. Eden lifted him effortlessly and lowered him into the green fluid.
Yoo-jin floated there, suspended in the gel. He looked peaceful.
"Connect the electrodes," Dr. Kang ordered, flipping switches on a rusted panel. "We're going to shock his nervous system while you stimulate the auditory cortex."
"What song?" Sol asked nervously. "What defines him?"
"Starforce," Min-ji said. "The first song we ever did. The one he wrote for us in the basement."
"No," Sae-ri shook her head. "That's our song. We need his song."
She looked at Yoo-jin floating in the tank.
"He doesn't have a song," Sae-ri realized. "He spent his whole life making music for other people. He never wrote one for himself."
"Then we write it now," Kai stepped forward. He had been silent in the corner.
"Kai?"
"I know his rhythm," Kai pulled out a tablet. "I spent three years training under him. I know how he taps his foot when he's stressed. I know the hum he makes when he's thinking."
Kai started tapping a beat on the metal tank.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.
It was erratic. Fast. Anxious.
"That's it," Min-ji recognized it. "That's his pacing tempo."
"Add the melody," Kai looked at Sol and Luna. "Minor key. Melancholy, but aggressive. Like he's fighting a losing war."
The twins hummed. A low, haunting harmony filled the bunker.
Hmmmmm...
"David," Kai ordered. "Bass line. Heartbeat pace."
David tapped on the console keys. Thump. Thump.
It was coming together. A song made of fragments. A portrait of a man who was stitched together.
"Sae-ri," Kai looked at her. "The lyrics. You know him best."
Sae-ri walked to the glass. She placed her hand on it, right over Yoo-jin's floating face.
She closed her eyes.
"I'm not real," she sang softly. Her voice was raw.
I'm just a copy of a dream...
Built to break, built to scream...
The liquid in the tank began to bubble.
"Neural activity spiking!" Eden reported. "30%... 40%..."
"Louder!" Dr. Kang cranked a dial. "He needs to hear you over the static!"
Sae-ri raised her voice. The others joined in.
Min-ji added a percussive shout. Sol and Luna soared into the high notes. Kai rapped a verse about ambition and plastic lies.
It was a mess. It was chaos. It was perfect.
I am the glitch in your design!
I am the error in the line!
ZAP.
A bolt of blue electricity arced through the tank.
Yoo-jin's body convulsed.
"Vital signs critical!" David screamed. "Heart rate 200!"
"Don't stop!" Sae-ri screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Yoo-jin! Come back!"
She hit the high note. A desperate, piercing cry of love and fear.
COME BACK!
The glass shattered.
CRASH.
Green fluid exploded outward, flooding the room. Sae-ri was knocked back, slipping on the wet floor.
Steam hissed from the broken tank.
Silence fell.
"Did we kill him?" Min-ji whispered, wiping slime from her face.
In the center of the wreckage, a figure moved.
Yoo-jin sat up. He was soaking wet, covered in glass shards and green goo. He coughed, spitting out fluid.
He looked at his hands. He flexed his fingers.
He looked up at the team staring at him in horror.
Yoo-jin took a deep breath.
"That bridge," Yoo-jin rasped, his voice rough. "Was missing a hook in the chorus."
Sae-ri let out a sob. She scrambled over the glass and tackled him in a hug.
"You idiot!" she cried into his wet shoulder. "You absolute idiot!"
"I'm back," Yoo-jin patted her hair weakly. "I'm back."
He looked at Dr. Kang, who was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
"Dr. Kang," Yoo-jin nodded. "You look terrible."
"You look like a pickle," Dr. Kang retorted. "Welcome to the land of the living, Number 734."
Yoo-jin stood up, helped by Eden. He shivered. The cold air of reality hit him.
"Status?" Yoo-jin asked, automatically switching back to Producer Mode.
"We won," David said, grinning. "Mason's network is down. The Violet Signal is off. The debt... well, the debt is still there, but we have 200 billion won in the crypto wallet from the Arena."
"200 billion," Yoo-jin nodded. "It's a start."
He walked to the exit. He looked out at the rain falling on the desolate industrial park.
"Where are we going?" Min-ji asked. "Back to the basement?"
"No," Yoo-jin wiped the green slime from his face. His eyes were cold. Harder than before.
"We're done hiding."
He turned to the team.
"We have money. We have a hit group. We have the Phantom Guild."
He picked up a piece of broken glass. He looked at his reflection.
"We're going to buy a building," Yoo-jin said.
"A building?"
"Gangnam," Yoo-jin declared. "Right across the street from Zenith Tower."
"We're starting a label," Yoo-jin dropped the glass.
"And we're going to steal all his trainees."