Yoon Haeun hadn't slept.
The glowing mark had vanished, but the feeling it left behind hadn't. Even after cleaning the broken mug, bandaging her finger, and trying to convince herself it was all stress-induced—her body knew better.
Something had changed.
Now, at 3:43 AM, she stood by the window of her 25th-floor apartment, the Seoul skyline spread out like a blinking constellation of artificial stars. Everything looked the same. And yet, nothing felt familiar.
Her phone buzzed. A text from her best friend, Jiwoo, back in Busan.
> Still alive in Seoul, right?
Don't get kidnapped by rich chaebols. Unless he's hot. Then at least send pics.
Haeun smiled for a second before her heart sank again. How would I even explain this to anyone?
She stared down at her wrist. Just skin. No glow. No answers.
Eventually, exhaustion won. She climbed into bed, the sheets cold against her skin.
---
She dreamt of fire.
Not flames—but a world drenched in red. Lanterns swaying in a wind she couldn't feel. The air smelled of incense and blood. She stood barefoot in a hanbok she'd never worn before, embroidered with symbols she didn't recognize but knew.
A man waited for her at the top of a staircase, half in shadow. She couldn't see his face, but she knew his presence. It sang in her bones.
She tried to speak, but no words came.
He turned—and her breath caught.
It was Jinhwan.
But not the man she met yesterday. This one wore traditional robes. His eyes were the same, but younger. More open. Still haunted.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"I don't know how I got here," she replied, though her voice sounded far away.
He stepped forward and reached for her.
"I tried to protect you. Every time."
Suddenly, the world shook. The lanterns blew out.
From behind her, a voice hissed like smoke curling into flesh.
"You keep finding each other. And you keep paying the price."
---
She jolted awake.
Her breath came fast, chest heaving, sheets tangled around her legs. The room was silent again, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner.
But her heart—her heart raced like she had just run from something.
And her bracelet?
On the nightstand.
Still warm.
---
Daehan Tower – 9:10 AM
"Good morning, Haeun-ssi. You're early," said Yuri, raising a curious brow.
"Couldn't sleep," Haeun replied, offering a weak smile. "Thought I'd get a head start."
Yuri walked her through the maze of inner offices to the architecture division—a space so pristine, it looked like someone had stolen it from a future magazine.
Her new desk was tucked in the far right corner near the window. A single box sat on the chair—her ID card, some orientation documents, a Daehan-branded planner.
But what caught her attention was the folder already waiting for her.
No label. Just her name, handwritten in calligraphy she didn't recognize.
Inside were old blueprints.
Of a building that hadn't been constructed yet.
Or so she thought—until her fingers touched the parchment and her breath left her lungs.
She knew this building.
A curved hallway. A hidden door behind the garden wall. A room filled with talismans and old books.
It didn't make sense.
She had seen it in the dream.
---
Across the tower, in his private wing, Jinhwan stood in front of a black monitor, Min beside him.
"She dreamt again," Min confirmed.
Jinhwan's jaw clenched. "I know."
"She's seeing the old house. The one we burned."
"She was always the key," Jinhwan whispered. "But this time... she's waking faster."
Min hesitated. "And the others?"
"Their marks haven't responded yet. But the closer she gets to the truth, the more they'll remember."
He tapped the screen gently, watching the surveillance feed. Haeun flipping through the blueprints, her expression somewhere between wonder and fear.
"Should I tell her?" Min asked.
"No."
"Then what?"
Jinhwan finally looked away.
"We give her the same choice she always had."
---
Back at Haeun's desk
She couldn't explain why her hands trembled as she turned the page. Every line on the blueprint whispered something to her memory. Not in words. In feelings. In warnings.
You've been here.
She ran her fingers along the sketch of a strange symbol carved into the wall of the hidden chamber. It looked like a lotus in flames.
You've died here.
Yuri returned with a tablet and some digital files, unaware of the storm behind Haeun's eyes.
"Jinhwan-ssi asked to see you. Privately."
Haeun swallowed hard.
She nodded and stood, heart suddenly loud in her chest.
---
Private rooftop garden – 9:42 AM
He was already waiting, of course.
Same as in her dream.
Only this time, he wasn't wearing royal robes or speaking in riddles.
He just looked tired. Like someone carrying more than one lifetime's worth of mistakes.
"You're remembering, aren't you?" he asked gently.
Haeun nodded.
"I think I've seen you before," she said. "Not just in dreams. I mean… way before."
He stepped closer.
"Then you remember how it ends."
She held his gaze, trembling but unflinching.
"Maybe this time, it doesn't have to."