The sky screamed.
A wave of red light pulsed from nowhere—rippling through buildings, traffic, even people. It didn't damage anything. It just labeled everything.
Ji-Hoon's name floated midair in system text above him:
[THREAT IDENTIFIED: WORLD-TIER ANOMALY]
People backed away. Not in fear—yet—but in confusion. Most hadn't seen a real system flag like this since the collapse five years ago. It wasn't meant for public view.
Then the countdown began.
✦ [PRISM_GOD DEPLOYMENT PROTOCOL: INITIATING]
✦ [0:59… 0:58…]
Ji-Hoon didn't hesitate.
He ducked into an alley, cloak folding into shadows as he ran. His boots kicked up old trash and loose code shards—fragments of an unstable reality, pieces of Edenfall still leaking into the world.
["The alert's broadcasting on admin-level channels," Luma said, her voice tight. "Prism_God is sending something. I don't know what. I've never seen this protocol before."]
"I have," Ji-Hoon muttered. "In the dev logs."
Luma went silent.
He reached the edge of a collapsed subway entrance—a hidden drop into a known Ghost Sector, flagged years ago but never closed off. He jumped without pause.
Midair, time jittered.
Not slowed—skipped. Like a video buffering.
He hit the tracks in a crouch.
Above, the countdown ticked past 0:03…
…0:02…
…0:01.
Then everything broke.
✦ [DEPLOYING ASSET: ARCHON-V0]
✦ [CLASS: ARTIFICIAL REGULATOR / HOSTILE – AUTO-AUTHORIZED]
It didn't land.
It manifested.
A construct of light and wire pulled itself from empty air above Seoul, wings of floating circuitry snapping into shape like predator fins. Its face was blank—just a glowing prism with no features, no eyes. Around it, UI laws rewrote themselves.
Every player, every system user, every bypassed civilian interface received the same alert:
✦ "Stand clear of combat radius. Root-tier protocol in progress."
✦ "Engaging Subject: Ji-Hoon Kwon."
And Ji-Hoon was already moving.
The tunnel cracked open behind him as the ARCHON dropped, tearing through multiple floors without touching them. It wasn't teleportation. It was priority override—space itself was letting it through first.
Ji-Hoon triggered two abilities at once.
✦ False Echo – Modified
✦ Phantom Thread – Unstable
He split again—three versions of himself now, each throwing decoys in different directions. But the ARCHON didn't chase.
It rewrote the terrain instead.
The entire subway bent in a perfect spiral, collapsing inward toward a single impossible point—like a black hole made of train cars and HUD lines. Ji-Hoon dove through the collapsing geometry, skimming a wall that didn't technically exist anymore.
["You're not going to survive this if you just run. You have to inject something. Burn one of the new permissions Ryu gave you."]
"I don't know what they do yet."
["Then guess smarter."]
Ji-Hoon slammed his palm into the concrete, activating the key Ryu gave him.
✦ [ADMIN/GHOST HYBRID INTERFACE – INITIALIZED]
✦ [Loading Subroutine: Local Override…]
✦ [Injecting Recode Hook…]
Reality buckled.
Ji-Hoon stood—not in the subway anymore—but in the ARCHON's interface.
Inside its thought space.
A flat field of data, hovering code towers, logic chains like scaffolding in the sky.
And the ARCHON was there—still blank-faced—but now paused, confused.
He'd broken its targeting.
Ji-Hoon walked forward. "You're not really alive. Just a regulator. Just a hammer looking for nails."
The ARCHON began to twitch. Systems locking, unlocking. Its voice leaked through filtered syllables:
"Root access—detected. Permission conflict. Resolution: overwrite host or delete."
"I'd like to see you try."
He reached forward.
✦ Skill Fusion: Phantom Thread + System Trace
✦ Result: DEEP INTRUSION
✦ Status: Partial Success
Ji-Hoon stabbed his hand directly into the ARCHON's prism core.
Data exploded.
For a second—just a second—he saw inside the real backend of Edenfall. Not the maps, not the zones.
But the truth.
A cage.
A glass cell in the center of orbit, with a sleeping figure suspended inside, wires plugged into her spine.
Kaeri.
Or someone who used to be her.
Then the vision snapped shut.
The ARCHON exploded outward in all directions, throwing Ji-Hoon across a hundred meters of code terrain. He slammed back into real space—bleeding from the nose, half his interface flickering.
["You saw it too, didn't you?" Luma asked quietly. "She's alive."]
"Alive and modified," Ji-Hoon breathed. "Prism_God's using her."
He stood.
The sky hadn't cleared.
The alert was still rising.
✦ [ARCHON STATUS: OFFLINE]
✦ [REDEPLOYMENT REQUESTED – TARGET CLASS REMAINS UNRESOLVED]
And now, it wasn't just system forces moving.
Other players had seen the alert.
And some of them weren't going to wait for orders.