Lost in Tomorrow

Chapter 9: The Cost of Defiance

The tunnels shook as the drones' sirens blared, echoing off the cold metal walls. Joon's heart pounded as he ran, his breath ragged, his legs screaming in protest. Haneul was right behind him, her grip firm on his wrist as she pulled him forward.

"We're almost there!" she shouted over the deafening noise.

Joon didn't know where there was. He just ran.

Behind them, the heavy thud of approaching footsteps grew louder. The Architects' enforcers—tall, armored figures with glowing visors—were closing in fast.

Joon stole a glance over his shoulder. Six of them. No, seven.

"Haneul," he gasped, "we can't outrun them forever."

"I know," she said, her voice tight. "But we don't have to."

She skidded to a stop and shoved him forward.

"Keep going. Don't stop."

Joon's stomach dropped. "What? No! You're coming with me."

Haneul's expression was calm, but her eyes—her eyes were full of something Joon had never seen before.

Resignation.

"I'll hold them off," she said.

"No," Joon growled, grabbing her arm. "No way in hell—"

She pried his fingers off. "Joon. Look at me."

He did.

"I need you to live."

Joon's throat tightened.

"Haneul, I—"

A single gunshot rang out.

Joon barely had time to register it before Haneul's body jerked violently. A dark stain spread across her side, her breathing hitching for just a second—just long enough for Joon to realize what had happened.

She staggered but didn't fall.

Instead, she smiled.

And then—

She lunged at the enforcers.

Joon screamed her name, but it was too late.

Haneul was already moving, already fighting, her body a blur of speed and violence. She slammed into the nearest enforcer, disarming him in seconds, twisting his own weapon into his chest before turning on the others.

For a brief, terrible moment, she was winning.

Then—

A second shot.

A third.

A fourth.

Joon couldn't breathe.

Haneul staggered, blood pouring from her wounds. One of the enforcers grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.

Joon watched, helpless, as she struggled. As she choked.

And then—

She was thrown like a ragdoll against the metal wall.

Something cracked.

Joon barely recognized the sound of his own scream.

Haneul slid to the ground, motionless.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, slowly, painfully, she lifted her head.

Her mouth moved, but no words came out.

Just blood.

And then—

Her body slumped forward.

And she was gone.

Joon couldn't move.

Couldn't think.

The enforcers turned toward him.

Something inside him snapped.

His mind burned—his power surging forward like wildfire. He heard them all at once—their thoughts, their commands, their orders.

Eliminate the boy.

Leave no survivors.

He is a threat.

Joon clenched his fists, his vision blurring.

He didn't care if they thought he was a threat.

Because now—

He was.

The Fall of Haneul

Joon didn't remember running. Didn't remember how he escaped.

One moment, he was staring at Haneul's lifeless body.

The next—

He was somewhere else.

Alone.

The tunnels stretched out before him like an endless maze. His chest heaved, his hands shaking violently.

He wanted to scream. To cry.

But he couldn't.

Haneul was gone.

And it was all his fault.

Joon squeezed his eyes shut. He could still hear her voice. Still see the way she smiled at him, even when she knew she was about to die.

I need you to live.

A hollow laugh bubbled up in his throat.

Live?

For what?

For this?

Joon dragged himself forward. One step. Then another.

He didn't know where he was going.

Didn't care.

All he knew was that he had to keep moving.

Because if he stopped—

If he let himself think—

The grief would swallow him whole.

The Phantom in the Dark

Joon didn't know how long he walked.

Minutes. Hours. Days.

It all blurred together.

At some point, his body gave up.

He collapsed against a crumbling wall, his breathing shallow.

He was so tired.

Maybe he could rest. Just for a little while.

Maybe—

"Whoa, you look like hell."

Joon's eyes snapped open.

The voice was light, teasing. Almost amused.

And then—

A figure materialized out of thin air.

Joon's breath caught.

They had just appeared—as if stepping out of the shadows themselves.

Short, wild hair. Sharp eyes that gleamed with mischief. A smirk that could either be friendly or dangerous.

Joon tried to speak, but his voice failed him.

The stranger crouched down in front of him.

"I gotta say," they mused, tilting their head, "not many people make it out of a fight with the Architects alive."

Joon's mind spun.

Who was this person?

And more importantly—

How had they just… appeared out of nowhere?

The stranger grinned, as if reading his thoughts.

"Let's just say I have a habit of slipping through the cracks."

Their form flickered—just for a second. Their entire body phased, turning translucent, barely there.

Joon's breath hitched.

No.

No way.

"Who… are you?" he rasped.

The stranger winked.

"Call me whatever you want," they said. "But since we're gonna be best friends, let's make it interesting."

Their voice was playful, but something about them felt… dangerous.

Powerful.

Deadly.

Joon's heart pounded.

His grief hadn't even settled—Haneul was still warm in his memory—

And yet, standing before him was someone entirely new.

Someone who shouldn't exist.

Someone who could walk through walls and vanish into thin air.

The stranger smirked.

"Now," they said, cracking their knuckles. "What's it gonna be, lost boy?"

Joon swallowed.

Who was this person?

And more importantly—

Were they here to help him…

Or to kill him?