Lost in Tomorrow
Chapter 11: Echoes of the Past
The world around Joon crumbled.
Dust and debris rained down as the tunnel shook violently, cracks splintering through the concrete walls. The ceiling groaned—a warning before its inevitable collapse.
Joon barely had time to react.
He sprinted forward, lungs burning, mind racing. Behind him, the hollowed enforcer was buried beneath the rubble, but that wasn't what concerned him.
It was the stranger.
The one who had flickered out of sight just before the world started falling apart.
Where were they? Had they escaped? Were they still here?
Joon's heart pounded. He didn't even know their name, but something about them—the way they carried themselves, the way they spoke—felt important.
He had lost Haneul. He wasn't going to lose another.
The ground trembled beneath his feet as he pushed himself forward, dodging falling debris. He barely made it out of the collapsing tunnel before it caved in completely, sending a cloud of dust billowing into the air.
Joon stumbled forward, coughing, his body screaming in protest.
Silence.
Everything had gone still.
He turned back, squinting through the dust. Nothing but wreckage. A massive wall of concrete and steel now separated him from the tunnel.
The stranger was gone.
Joon clenched his fists.
Had they escaped?
Or had he just witnessed another death?
A bitter taste settled on his tongue. The weight of loss pressed down on him, suffocating.
He had no time to grieve.
He needed to move.
Joon turned, forcing himself to take in his surroundings. He was standing in what looked like an abandoned subway station. Flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the cracked tiles. The air was stale, heavy with dust and neglect.
A sign hung loosely from the ceiling, its letters faded.
District 4: Line C
Joon exhaled sharply. He had no idea where he was.
His mind reached out instinctively—searching for thoughts, for signs of life—
And for the first time in a long while, he caught something.
A whisper.
No—several.
He stiffened. Someone was here.
Joon pressed himself against the wall, listening. The voices were faint, but he could hear them.
*...another collapse? That makes three this week...*
*...the Architects won't like this...*
*...we should report it before they send the enforcers...*
Joon's breath hitched.
Who were they?
He crept forward, keeping low. The voices were coming from around the corner. He peeked cautiously.
Three figures stood near the subway tracks, illuminated by a dim, flickering light. They were dressed in ragged clothes, their faces hidden beneath makeshift masks.
Joon narrowed his eyes.
They didn't look like enforcers.
They looked like survivors.
For the first time since arriving in this future, he wasn't staring at lifeless people glued to their screens.
These people were awake.
Joon hesitated. Should he approach them? He wasn't sure if they were friend or foe.
Then, before he could decide—
One of them turned.
And their eyes locked onto his.
Joon's stomach twisted.
"Who's there?!"
The tallest of the three took a step forward, hand hovering over a concealed weapon. The others tensed, their bodies shifting into defensive stances.
Joon cursed internally. He had no choice now.
He stepped forward, hands raised slightly to show he wasn't a threat.
"I don't want trouble," Joon said, his voice steady. "I just—" He hesitated. What was he supposed to say? I'm from the past and the world I woke up in is a nightmare?
One of the figures—a woman—tilted her head. "You're not from here, are you?"
Joon swallowed. "What makes you say that?"
She let out a dry laugh. "Because no one from the city would be dumb enough to walk in here alone."
Joon frowned. "And who are you?"
The woman studied him for a moment before pulling down her mask. Beneath it was a face lined with exhaustion but sharp with awareness.
"We're the Resistance."
Joon's breath caught.
The Resistance?
He had never heard of them before. But the moment she said it, something inside him clicked.
Not everyone was under the Architects' control.
Not everyone was asleep.
There were people fighting back.
And now, he had found them.
Joon straightened. "Then I think we need to talk."
The woman exchanged glances with her companions. Then, after a long pause, she nodded.
"Follow us. But if you try anything—" She tapped the hilt of her weapon. "You won't get a second chance."
Joon exhaled.
He had no idea what he was walking into.
But if he wanted answers—if he wanted to survive—
This was his best shot.
He followed them into the shadows, leaving the collapsed tunnel—and his past—behind.
---
Meanwhile...
Deep beneath the city, in a chamber lined with towering screens, a figure stood watching.
The monitors flickered with distorted images—glitches of surveillance feeds, static blurring out parts of the footage.
But one image remained clear.
Joon.
The figure leaned forward, expression unreadable.
"So... you're still alive."
A slow, knowing smile spread across their lips.
"Let's see how long that lasts."
---