Fall had started with high hopes.

  Ezra had finally started to settle into his b, learned to tolerate Haru’s antics, and had even gotten used to his new life of luxury. But today? Today was going to be an absolute nightmare. And it all started with a single mistake. Ezra left his phone on the workbench.

  Ezra was deep in work, focusing intently on another one of Haru’s insane blueprints, when he heard the question that made his blood turn to ice.

  "Ezra," Haru piped up from across the b.

  Ezra didn’t even gnce up, still carefully adjusting a calibration sensor. "What?"

  "Do you have games on your phone?"

  Ezra’s hands froze mid-adjustment. Slowly, so very slowly, he turned his head. Haru was holding his phone. Ezra's one and only outdated, scratched-up, barely-functioning device. Ezra inhaled sharply, already feeling the beginning of a stress headache forming behind his eyes. "Kid," he started, his voice dangerously calm, "put that down before I—"

  And then—An idea struck him.

  A terrible, wonderful, beautifully reckless idea. He straightened. Cleared his throat. Put on his most serious expression. "Yeah," he said casually. "I got loads of games on it." Haru’s eyes widened with excitement. Ezra leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if offering forbidden knowledge. "Wanna shut the fuck up for a couple hours and py them?"

  Haru beamed. "YES!"

  Ezra grinned. He had won. For once in his life, he had outsmarted the gremlin.

  It worked—for a while.

  Haru sat quietly in a chair, hunched over the ancient relic of a phone, thumbs tapping furiously. Ezra worked in peace, adjusting components, soldering circuits, basking in the unbelievable silence of a Haruto Kim-free workspace. It was bliss.And then—

  Thirty minutes ter—"Ezra."

  Ezra sighed, rubbing his temples. "What, Haru?"

  "Your phone is boring."

  Ezra felt his soul leave his body.

  Before he could react, Haru was scrolling through YouTube. A video started pying—Japanese narration, dramatic music, the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn. Ezra peeked over. On the screen, a fantasy samurai warrior in traditional armor crept through a dense, misty forest, stalking his prey in silence. The title fshed across the screen—Tenzai Raikou: Bde of the Celestial Dragon. Ezra sighed. "Don’t get any ideas."

  Haru said nothing. Which was worse than a response.

  Fifteen minutes passed. Ezra was deep in his work, lost in a delicate circuit assembly when—He noticed something strange.

  The b was quiet. Too quiet.

  Suspiciously quiet.

  Ezra’s entire body tensed. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his head. The chair where Haru had been sitting was empty. Ezra's phone was gone. The air in the b suddenly felt colder. Oh no.

  His eyes darted around, scanning the entire workspace. No Haru. He checked under the workbench. Nothing. He checked the storage closets. Nothing. He even checked inside one of the empty supply containers, just in case Haru had decided to become Schr?dinger’s Cat for fun.

  Still nothing. Then—"Ezraaaaaa…"

  Ezra jerked violently, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat. The voice came from above him. His head snapped upward. And there, peering down from a ceiling grid tile, was Haru. Eyes gleaming. Grinning. Like a small, mischievous goblin lurking in the shadows.

  Ezra didn’t even have time to yell. Haru unched himself down from the ceiling, nding with a roll like he was an actual goddamn ninja. Ezra staggered backward, clutching his chest. "What the fuck?!"

  Haru beamed. "Pretty good, huh? I synchronized my breathing with the ventition system! Just like Tenzai Raikou!"

  Ezra wanted to scream. This wasn’t real. This had to be a hallucination.

  Before Ezra could reprimand him, a voice interrupted them both. "You two." Ezra turned. Mr. Key stood in the doorway, watching with mild amusement, arms crossed. "Be ready in half an hour," he said simply.

  Ezra blinked. "For what?"

  Mr. Key smiled. It wasn’t a comforting smile. "We’re taking a tour of the core."

  The words hit Ezra like a gut punch. His stomach flipped, twisted, sank into the abyss. He forgot how to breathe for a moment. The Silent Legion. The reactor beneath Mt. Fuji. The pce where people had mutated from exposure. The thing that was supposedly keeping the pnet stable. His face paled.

  Meanwhile—Haru gasped with excitement, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "Really?!" he cheered. "We're finally going?!"

  Ezra swallowed the bile rising in his throat. This was it. His worst nightmare was becoming real. He was going to die in that mountain. And Haru was going to have the time of his life doing it.

  The cart rumbled down the long tunnel, the dim lights casting ghostly shadows against the cold, reinforced walls. Ezra sat stiffly, gripping the rail beside him, staring ahead as the path stretched into a seemingly endless void.

  The deeper they went, the thicker the air became, pressing against his chest like a slow-growing weight. It felt like he was descending into hell itself, a suffocating sense of finality cwing at the back of his mind.

  Haru, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

  The kid’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he peered out into the tunnel, his head swiveling back and forth like he was the main character in some fantasy epic, sneaking into the ir of a legendary dragon.

  "Ezra," Haru whispered, leaning in, his voice brimming with excitement. "Doesn’t this feel like a legendary moment? Like we’re about to face the final boss?"

  Ezra barely turned his head. "Kid, if this is the final boss, I’d rather just skip the cutscene and go straight to the game over screen."

  Haru grinned. "That’s quitter talk!"

  Ezra groaned, leaning back, eyes narrowing as he focused ahead. At the end of the tunnel, a deep elevator shaft awaited them.

  The cart slowed to a halt. Mr. Key stepped off first, motioning for them to follow. Ezra hesitated, looking down into the seemingly bottomless abyss of the elevator shaft. The massive chamber was carved from pure rock, reinforced with yers of steel and high-tech security systems. The walls were lined with heavy-duty lifts, each one capable of carrying hundreds of tons of cargo, and at the center, their own private elevator waited.

  The moment Ezra stepped onto the ptform, the temperature shifted. It wasn’t hot. It wasn’t cold.It was dense. The air felt charged, like static before a storm, pressing down on them as if the very weight of the mountain above was reminding them where they were going.

  Ezra’s stomach twisted as the elevator lurched downward. The descent began. Haru, of course, was unbothered, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "How deep does this go?" he asked.

  Mr. Key was silent for a moment before responding. "Deep enough that if the reactor ever failed," he said, "the crater it would leave behind would be visible from space."

  Haru grinned wider. Ezra felt his soul leave his body.

  When the elevator doors slid open, Mr. Key led them down the final stretch of the path, stopping in front of a massive bunker door. The sheer size of it was almost incomprehensible—reinforced steel so thick it could withstand nuclear bsts, sealed with mechanical locks that hissed with pressure.

  Only a White-Card holder could open it. Even then, special clearance was required. "This is as far as I go," Mr. Key said, turning to them both. "Beyond this door, the facility is run by the Silent Legion."

  Ezra didn’t like the way he said that. Not like it was some cooperative business venture. No. It sounded like a separate entity entirely. Something that Key Industries simply had to respect. Ezra swallowed, suddenly aware of just how small he was in the grand scheme of things.

  Mr. Key motioned toward the nearby checkpoint—a processing station guarded by a single figure dressed entirely in bck. The man barely spoke, processing their White Cards efficiently, methodically, before handing them back.

  Ezra had no idea what information was being loaded onto them, but the moment the system beeped, a small red light above the door flickered green. The bunker doors began to unlock. The security guard stepped aside.

  "Proceed."

  Ezra had never felt so intimidated by a single word before. And yet, the worst was still to come.

  The moment they stepped inside, their tour guide was already waiting for them. She stood at attention, her arms csped behind her back, her jet-bck armor fitted with precision, as if she had never once stood anywhere without absolute purpose. Her voice was crisp, authoritative, cutting through the room like a bde.

  "I am Clover," she said. "Your tour begins now."

  Ezra’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t her no-nonsense attitude that set him on edge. It was her. Her feet weren’t human. They were hooves. Encased in custom-made boots, perfectly tailored to fit her non-human legs. Her ears were tall and pointed, covered in soft fur, twitching at even the smallest sounds. A small set of horns curved just above her forehead, subtle but unmistakable. And her tail—long, swishing behind her, as natural as if she had been born with it. Ezra tried not to stare too hard, but his mind was racing.

  Just how long have they been down here for someone to mutate this drastically?

  Haru, of course, had zero hesitation. He grinned up at her, absolutely fascinated. "You look cool!" Haru blurted out. Ezra almost spped his forehead.

  Clover’s expression remained neutral, but something in her stance softened slightly. "Haru Kim," she said, looking down at him. "I read your file. You are young."

  "I know!" Haru beamed. "That’s what makes me so great!"

  Ezra closed his eyes. "Haru, please shut up."

  Clover’s neutral expression remained, but Ezra swore he saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes. That amusement, however, vanished when her gaze settled on him. "And you," she said ftly, "Ezra Key."

  Ezra straightened. "Uh. Yeah."

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are responsible for this child. Ensure he does not deviate from the path."

  Ezra’s soul shattered into a million pieces. "Babysitting," he muttered under his breath. "Great. Fantastic. Love that."

  Haru, meanwhile, was positively glowing. "Does that mean I get to do whatever I want as long as Ezra keeps track of me?"

  Clover ignored him. "You will not deviate from the tour path," she said. "There are restricted zones beyond these tunnels that you are not permitted to enter. Do not test this rule."

  Ezra didn’t need to be told twice. Haru, however—"Ooooh, what’s in the restricted zones?"

  Ezra grabbed his shoulder before he could ask anything else. "We’re not gonna find out, because we’re gonna behave. Right, Haru?"

  Haru pouted. "Boo. Fine."

  Clover turned, motioning for them to follow. "Then we begin."

  Ezra exhaled deeply, trying to suppress the overwhelming sense of impending doom crawling up his spine. Mr. Key was right. White-Coat University had been education. But the real work? The real danger? It was only just starting.

  The tour was short, efficient, and left no room for questions. Clover led them through reinforced corridors, past thick containment doors, until they reached a single, sterile control room. Ezra had expected to see the core itself, to witness firsthand the energy source that supposedly powered human civilization—but that wasn’t their job.

  Instead, they were shown the st line of defense. A safety mechanism. The terminal in front of them was minimalistic, yet unmistakably final in its function. Clover turned to face them. "If the core ever reaches critical levels, you are required to authorize a complete wipe."

  Ezra’s mouth felt dry. "What does ‘complete wipe’ mean?"

  "There are enough explosives beneath the facility to unch the core into space," she stated. "Far enough that its detonation will be harmless."

  Haru’s eyes sparkled. "Like a superweapon cannon?"

  Ezra stared at the console, gripping his White Card a little tighter. This wasn’t some theoretical disaster protocol. This was real. And one day, he might have to make that call.

  Clover’s expression remained cold, unwavering, as she delivered the final piece of information. "In the event of a complete wipe," she continued, "the authorization process requires on-site personnel to remain within the facility."

  Ezra’s stomach dropped. "What do you mean—‘remain’?"

  Clover’s eyes met his, unflinching. "If the wipe is initiated, those who authorize it must stay behind to ensure the sequence is carried out."

  Ezra felt his pulse in his ears.

  "You’re saying that if this thing goes critical, whoever pushes the button—"

  "—dies with it."

  Silence hung thick in the air. Haru blinked, the weight of those words finally settling in even for him. Ezra exhaled sharply, gripping his White Card, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing into his chest.

  This wasn’t just a tour. This was a warning. One day, if it came to it, he would have to make the call. And if he did—There would be no coming back.