"What else can you let me on... this time, details about the Lapis Chamber."
Jaemin's voice was low, steady. Gyeongmin didn't answer at once — he stood slowly, moving to the window, eyes scanning the horizon as if trying to form the words. Then he turned back, his gaze heavier than before.
"The Lapis Chamber is a hidden space. Deserted. Not unlike a rift, but it's… contained. You can enter it, you can leave it — but no one is allowed to anymore."
"Contained?" Jaemin repeated.
"Exactly. It's not a naturally active rift. It's a residual zone — like leftover radiation from something stronger. Think of it as a scar, left behind by a Tier 2 Rift that never fully closed. The one called the Saeyueol Rift."
"Are there any rift monsters inside?" Jaemin asked.
Gyeongmin shook his head. "It's empty. Has been for years. The Aether Crest installed surveillance cams and core readers inside the chamber walls. We've had them running non-stop since the event. No motion. No signatures. No fluctuations. Just silence."
Jaemin leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Then what the hell does it have to do with the five Coreborn? They didn't die in a Tier 2 rift."
Gyeongmin exhaled slowly.
"They didn't die," he said. "They were declared dead. The mission log says they disappeared during a routine sweep of the Saeyueol Rift — but the truth is, their beacons were last pinged inside the Lapis Chamber."
Jaemin frowned. "They went there voluntarily?"
"They weren't supposed to. The chamber wasn't even on the field map. They were nowhere near its coordinates."
He paused, then continued, more quietly.
"Ryu Sangho was the first to veer off. Veteran commander. Solid mental track. His comms log was clear until the moment he changed course. No threats detected. No core spikes. He just… started walking."
"And the others?"
"Im Ha-ri followed four minutes later. Then Bek Daehyun. Then the last two — Hwan and Mira. No signals. No commands. They just broke from formation, one after another, without a sound."
Jaemin's jaw tightened. "Like they were being called."
Gyeongmin nodded, eyes cold. "That's what it looked like. But there was no psychic interference. No aura leak. No spiritual toxins. They weren't controlled… they chose to go."
"And then?"
"When the last one stepped through, the chamber sealed. Not physically — more like… conceptually. Every scanner went dark. Audio, visuals, core pulses. Nothing came back. Not even static."
"Did the Aether Crest try breaching it?"
"We threw everything at it," Gyeongmin said grimly. "Sentries. Pulse-lures. Shard detonations. Core resonance triggers. Nothing moved. The chamber didn't resist — it just ignored."
"And Ryu Sangho's note?"
Gyeongmin turned, pulling open a drawer and handing Jaemin a digital slate. A scanned piece of paper glowed faintly on screen, the ink faded but visible:
"If something calls from blue silence, do not answer. Not all echoes come from your own voice. If I fail to return, it means I heard it too late."
Gyeongmin's eyes locked with Jaemin's.
"We don't know what the Lapis Chamber really is. It doesn't attack. It doesn't feed. It doesn't mutate or emit. It just… remembers. That's why we named it after lapis — the stone of memory. That blue silence? It echoes, but only if it wants you to hear it."
Jaemin leaned forward, eyes steady."So where exactly is the Lapis Chamber?"
Gyeongmin folded his arms, his voice quieter now."It's in the outskirts of Seoul. Beneath the main facility of the Aether Crest."
Jaemin frowned. "The research center?"
"That's what the public sees. A modest site. White halls, scanners, sterile labs. But that's just the first layer," Gyeongmin said, shaking his head. "The actual structure beneath it… it's five times bigger than any other research complex ever built. A labyrinth buried underground. Just memorizing a third of it would take you years."
He paused, tone tightening."They keep it far from public knowledge due to constant internal testing and redacted data. The deeper you go, the older the structure feels. Like it wasn't built by the Crest… just repurposed."
Jaemin's brow furrowed."Hm. But how will I know I've reached the Lapis Chamber?"
"You'll know," Gyeongmin replied, his voice darker now. "You'll walk a hallway where the air itself starts to feel wrong. Cold without wind. Time feels slower. Lights flicker when they shouldn't. And then you'll see it—every ten meters, glowing red signage stamped into the walls, reading:
'Entering Zone: ████ Ecliptic — PLEASE RETURN IMMEDIATELY UNLESS AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL.'"
"The name's been redacted that long?"
"No one's been able to trace it," Gyeongmin said. "And it doesn't stop there. The final gateway to the chamber — a massive gate sealed with metallic roots — is entirely covered in ancient sigils. Symbols that radiate energy, but no one's ever translated them."
Jaemin narrowed his eyes."What language?"
"Sanskrit," Gyeongmin said without hesitation. "Or something older. Almost like… a primal form of it."
Jaemin blinked, confused. "Sanskrit? What does that have to do with anything here?"
Gyeongmin's voice dropped.
"No one knows. We've brought in linguists, historians, even Coreborn with mnemonic-based abilities. The markings refuse translation. But one thing's certain — whatever's written there… it's powerful. Strong enough that even corrupted beings stop dead at the gate."
"Like a ward?"
"Something more than that," Gyeongmin murmured. "A command. An ancient law embedded in the symbols. One of the Aether Crest officers tried to step in unauthorized last year. The sigils didn't burn him. Didn't throw him back. They just… made him kneel. Said he couldn't breathe. Said the symbols were watching him."
Jaemin stayed silent for a beat, letting the weight of it settle.
"And no one's ever come out once they enter?"
"No one who hears the echo," Gyeongmin replied grimly. "Once the silence chooses you, it doesn't let go."
Jaemin sat in silence, eyes fixed ahead, the room thick with unspoken tension.
"…I'm assuming there's more intel on this case?" he asked.
"There is," Gyeongmin replied without missing a beat. "But I'll give it to you when we start the case."
Jaemin turned slightly, posture tightening. "So then… where do we start?"
"Two days from now," Gyeongmin said, walking toward his desk, "there's an annual internal meet between the four divisions. Each one discloses what they feel the need to disclose—strategic intel, research breakthroughs, Rift anomalies. You'll be attending that meet with me."
Jaemin blinked. "What? Won't that raise suspicion?"
"I'll have that part covered. Don't worry about it," Gyeongmin said calmly, already reaching for a file folder on his desk. "Just play your role."
Jaemin leaned forward, wary. "And after the meet?"
Gyeongmin looked up, firm. "The Aether Crest hoards Rift data like gold. They're obsessed with anomalies, shifts in core activity, irregularities in Tier classification. You'll give them info—for info."
"Which info exactly?" Jaemin asked.
Gyeongmin smiled faintly. "I'll let you know that day itself."
He stepped toward the door. "There's someone I want you to meet."
"Who?"
"The president of the Aether Crest," he said. "Dr. Kwon Haseok. He'll be your target."
Jaemin's eyes narrowed slightly. The name carried weight, even among the higher-ups.
"Understood," Jaemin said.
This was it.
No going back now.
"I hope our mission is nothing but success," Gyeongmin said, his tone resolute as he stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Within a beat, the door opened again.
Joo Minhyuck entered, composed as ever in his dark uniform. "Mr. Han," he said with a slight nod, "allow me to drop you to your next location. Orders of the Director himself."
Jaemin slowly rose from his seat, sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Drop me to a coffee shop, please."
Minhyuck paused for a second, a faint look of confusion flashing in his eyes—but of course, there was no questioning Jaemin now.
"Understood," Minhyuck replied, holding the door open.
****
At the cafe.
"Hyung-nim, you never called me to meet with you first," Taeha said, sliding into the seat across from Jaemin with a smirk. "Should I be scared?"
"Chill," Jaemin replied, sipping his coffee. "I'm here to talk about the raid."
"Oh? What about it?" Taeha raised an eyebrow, curious now.
"When can we start?"
Taeha blinked. "Weren't you busy, hyung-nim?"
"Just answer my question," Jaemin said, his tone sharpening just slightly.
Taeha leaned back, that same easygoing smile on his face. "We can start anytime."
"Let's start tomorrow."
"Okayyy," Taeha said with a playful stretch. "As you say. I'll come pick you up around 8 a.m.?"
"Yeah, sounds good." Jaemin nodded, setting his cup down.
Jaemin exhaled softly as he stepped out of the cab, the day's weight still hanging on his shoulders. The neon hum of the apartment sign buzzed above him as he walked toward the entrance of the worn-out residential building. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was home — quiet, grounded.
By the entrance, an old man in a blue windbreaker sat on a creaky plastic chair, a small space heater buzzing beside him. He looked up, eyes crinkling with recognition.
"Annyeonghaseyo, Park ajeossi. You're still on duty this late?" Jaemin asked, his voice soft but warm.
"Eyy, night shift today," the old man chuckled, waving his hand lazily. "How have you been, Jaemin-ah?"
"I'm good. How about you, ajeossi?" Jaemin replied with a respectful smile, bowing lightly.
"Still keeping the blood pumping," Park ajeossi said with a dry snicker, tapping his chest. "Old bones, you know."
Jaemin bowed again. "That's good to hear. I'll head up now, get some rest when your shift ends."
The old man nodded with a small grin. "Don't work yourself to death, kid."
Jaemin smiled, then stepped inside. The old elevator groaned awake as he pressed the button. The doors opened with a reluctant clunk, and he stepped in, leaning back against the cool metal wall.
The button for the 7th floor lit up, and the doors slowly slid shut.
Jaemin shut the door behind him with a soft click. The lights were dim, only the glow from the kitchen lamp casting a muted hue over the apartment. It was unusually quiet—no clatter of papers or the soft hum of Nari's study playlist. He peeked over the couch.
She was curled up, fast asleep, her arm dangling off the edge like a deflated balloon. A notebook had slipped to the floor beside her.
"Must've burned out again…" he murmured, picking up the notebook and placing it gently on the table.
He made his way to his room, stripped off the day's weight along with his jacket, and pulled on a loose shirt and sweats. Falling back onto his bed, the mattress groaned slightly, but it was the only sound in the room.
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then a familiar voice, calm and collected, surfaced like a ripple in still water.
"You've taken on more today than usual."
Jaemin's eyes opened just a little. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "I thought you didn't comment on my personal life."
"It's not commentary. It's observation. You're pacing yourself. That's…new."
Jaemin exhaled through his nose, the ceiling fan lazily spinning above him. "A lot of things feel new. Aether Crest. The chamber. Even the silence feels louder lately."
"The silence is when people show their truest form."A pause. "You've done well not to crumble."
Jaemin turned on his side, burying half his face into the pillow. "Not yet, anyway."
"You won't."The voice had no hesitation. Just clarity. Just presence."Sleep. I'll keep watch."
Jaemin didn't respond. He didn't have to. His eyelids fluttered shut, breath steadying as sleep crept in—slow and welcome.
And in the quiet of the room, with the hum of city life muffled beyond the windows, the Warden's presence lingered like a soft breeze through steel bars—silent, patient, resolute.