Into The Null Zone

Dawn painted the city in pale gray as Jin-Woo and Seo-Yeon moved through narrow alleyways, packs on their backs, faces hardened with resolve. Daehan Memorial wasn't far — but between them and the vault lay the Null Zone.

No satellites, no tracking, and no fixed flow of time.

According to the data Sang-Hyun gave them, the Null Zone had once been a failed Janus testing ground. Something in the core corrupted space-time. Those who entered came out altered… if they came out at all.

Jin-Woo stared at the rusted gates of the facility as they approached.

"This is where it began for a lot of us," Seo-Yeon said. "Failed resets, broken minds. They buried everything here. But the Root Key is supposed to be inside."

"We only need one shot," Jin-Woo replied.

Descent

The facility smelled of decay and burnt wiring. They slipped inside through a broken side door. Inside, nature had already begun to reclaim the space — moss growing along the cracked tiles, vines creeping up server racks that hadn't been powered in years.

Jin-Woo's watch immediately blinked red: SIGNAL LOST.

The Null Zone.

"Mark your steps," Seo-Yeon whispered. "Chrono-feedback can loop you without warning."

He dropped a chalk mark on the wall. "We'll leave a trail."

They pushed deeper.

The further they went, the stranger things got. Shadows stretched too long. Footsteps echoed before they moved. At one point, Jin-Woo turned a corner and nearly collided — with himself.

A faded image — him, bloodied, kneeling. Then gone.

"Time echo," Seo-Yeon muttered, gripping her weapon tighter.

The Vault

Finally, they reached the sub-basement. At the far end was a massive steel vault, its door sealed with a rotating mechanism covered in biometric pads and puzzle-locks.

Jin-Woo stepped forward. The system flared to life.

IDENTITY: ANOMALOUS. ACCESS GRANTED (LIMITED).

Seo-Yeon raised a brow. "You're not supposed to be here, and the system knows it."

"I'll take what I can get."

The door hissed open, revealing a chamber bathed in violet-blue light. In the center hovered a small metallic case pulsing with faint energy.

"The Root Key," Jin-Woo said.

He stepped forward — and the floor rippled beneath his feet.

The Guardian

A hum filled the air.

From the chamber walls, tendrils of light curled together into the shape of a man. But not a man. A construct — metallic bones, shifting panels, and eyes like shattered mirrors.

"State your vector."

Jin-Woo froze. "We're here to shut down rollback protocol."

The construct tilted its head. "Rollback is active because your anomaly destabilizes universal continuity. You are not permissioned."

Seo-Yeon raised her rifle. "We don't have time for this."

"Correct."

The construct lunged.

Jin-Woo ducked and rolled, barely avoiding a bladed arm that shattered the concrete. Seo-Yeon fired a burst into its torso, sparks flying — but it kept coming.

Jin-Woo scrambled to the pedestal and slammed his hand onto the Root Key.

Pain exploded through his skull.

Interface

He was somewhere else.

White. Endless.

And standing across from him — Yoon Mi-Ra.

"You activated the Key," she said, calm and sad. "Now you see it."

"See what?"

She gestured.

Around him flickered thousands of versions of himself — dying, fighting, failing, winning. Timelines, possibilities, realities.

"This is the Chain," she whispered. "And it's fraying."

Countdown

Back in the real world, Seo-Yeon fought with everything she had. The construct now shimmered with distortion — its form glitching.

Suddenly, Jin-Woo gasped, the Root Key burning in his palm.

He opened his eyes.

And everything froze.

The construct locked mid-strike. Seo-Yeon froze mid-motion.

Jin-Woo stood alone in frozen time.

A voice echoed:

"You have ten minutes of stabilized divergence. Choose wisely."