The training yard at the SDF base fell silent as Min-jun Park ended the session early, his shadows retracting with a whisper. The Genesis message gnawed at him—*"You're only using leaked energy... come to us..."*—its words a seductive echo of doubt. He needed clarity, not drills. Slipping away from Ji-hoon's puzzled glance and the squad's concerned murmurs, Min-jun headed to his father's workshop, a haven of clanging metal and raw force mana.
Tae-hoon Park looked up from welding a mana-infused engine part, his broad frame casting a shadow in the flickering light. "Haven't seen you here in a while, son. Too busy for your old man?" he said, wiping sweat from his brow, his voice warm but tinged with concern.
"Yeah, it's been a while since we talked," Min-jun replied, his worried expression betraying the storm in his mind. He leaned against a workbench, shadows flickering faintly at his feet.
Tae-hoon set down his tools, sensing the weight in his son's voice. "Anything wrong?"
Min-jun exhaled, the words spilling out. "Kind of. I don't know what I'm doing, Dad. I'm captain of Korea's first Recruit Squad, guaranteed an SDF spot after graduation—but it doesn't feel right. I'm supposed to be grateful, but I didn't ask for this. Is it wrong to want a normal life?"
Tae-hoon's eyes softened, his raw force mana steadying the air. "Son, it's not wrong to wish for normal. You're carrying more than most your age—responsibility, expectations, pressure no one sees. You're not a boy anymore, but you're not a man yet either." He stepped closer, locking eyes with Min-jun, his voice firm. "The world sees you as a puzzle piece that doesn't fit their pretty picture. It's up to you to decide how you stand out in it. Not knowing what to do? That's normal for your age. But no one your age has what you do. Life throws you things you don't need to get what you want—it's your choice to seize it. Your position now isn't fixed. Opportunities will come, and you'll figure them out."
Min-jun listened, a silent smile breaking through. "Thanks, Dad."
Tae-hoon gripped his shoulder. "And remember this: you're not an asset to anyone—not even the SDF. You don't owe them a damn thing."
The words lit a spark in Min-jun's eyes, the Black Heart pulsing with newfound resolve. "I just remembered I've got something to do," he said, grinning as he headed out. In his mind, a shift crystallized: *The SDF isn't my only option. I'm not their asset.*
---
Across Neo-Seoul, Soo-jin Han walked home, her illusions trailing like soft veils, when her phone buzzed. Hye-jin Moon's voice crackled through: "Meet me at the ramen joint on 5th—girl talk, stat!" Soo-jin arrived to find Hye-jin already slurping noodles, her sound powers amplifying the restaurant's chatter for dramatic effect.
"Okay, spill," Hye-jin said, leaning in. "How do we get Min-jun to notice your feelings? Operation Heartthrob is a go!"
Soo-jin blushed, fiddling with her chopsticks. "I don't know, Hye-jin. I told him I care, but he's so... distracted."
Their plotting was cut short by a sharp voice. "He's fully aware of your feelings, but his head's too full to chase his heart right now. He doesn't need a cuddle buddy for romantic evenings—he needs someone who sees what he sees, someone to walk his path. In that, you're lacking compared to Aiko."
The girls spun to see Klara Weiss, the SDF's telepathic instructor, sliding into their booth uninvited. "May I join?" she asked, already sitting, her aura probing lightly.
Soo-jin's voice dropped, laced with shame and a hint of jealousy. "Why say that? What does Aiko have that I don't?"
Hye-jin, clueless about Aiko's deeper ties to Min-jun, looked between them, confused. Klara's tone softened, tinged with sadness. "I'm waking you up, Soo-jin, not tearing you down. Love him, fine—but don't let it be all you are. The world's facing a revelation, and we're all players, main or background. Don't waste your time dreaming of love as your only purpose. Aiko has a goal—she's building her stage. You? You're stuck on Min-jun."
Hye-jin nodded, catching on. "She's right, Soo-jin. We can't play matchmaker forever. You need your own goal."
A breeze swept through the open window, carrying a moment of heavy silence as Soo-jin processed the sting of truth. Klara broke it with a grin, her energy shifting. "But enough of that! Let's have a girls' night!" The trio smiled, laughter rising as they dove into noodles and banter, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.
---
Min-jun, meanwhile, walked the neon-lit streets, his father's words fueling a quiet rebellion. The Genesis message lingered, not as temptation but as a challenge. The SDF, Third Division, even Captain Soo-jin Lee's vision—they weren't his only path. His Black Heart pulsed, not with rage, but with purpose. Whatever came next—Genesis, the SDF, or his own road—he'd carve it himself.