The rain didn't wash away the blood on the lobby floor. It just diluted it, turning the white tiles into a watercolor painting of violence.
"Five minutes," Yoo-jin said. He checked his watch. The glass was cracked. "Grab the hard drives. Grab the microphones. Leave the costumes."
"The costumes cost fifty million won," David whined, hugging a server tower like a life preserver.
"You can't eat sequins," Yoo-jin snapped. "Move."
The BK Building—his fortress, his symbol of defiance—was already a corpse. The windows were shattered. The "Zenith Killer" sign was hanging by a single wire. Police sirens wailed in the distance, getting louder.
They weren't coming to arrest him. They were coming to finish what the Clones started.
"Bus is loaded," Min-ji kicked the front door open. She had a black eye, but she was carrying three equipment cases stacked on her back like an ant. "But Hyung, fifty girls in one bus? We're practically sitting on each other's laps."
"Better than sitting in a cell," Yoo-jin said.
He took one last look at the lobby.
He saw the phantom of Ji-soo standing near the vending machine, laughing. Now, that space was empty.
Guilt hit him like a physical blow. He swallowed it down.
Emotions are luxury goods, he told himself. Right now, I can't afford them.
"Let's go."
The drive was silent.
The windows of the stolen tour bus were blacked out with duct tape. Fifty trainees sat in the dark. No one checked their phones. No one cried. They were too terrified to make a sound.
Yoo-jin sat in the jump seat next to Kai, who was driving.
"Where are we actually going?" Kai whispered. "You said subway tunnels. You mean, like, buying a ticket?"
"Line 5," Yoo-jin said. "Yeouinaru Station."
"That's the deepest station in Korea. It's crawling with civilians."
"Not the station," Yoo-jin pointed to the GPS. "Under it."
Every city has secrets. Seoul was built on war paranoia. Beneath the glittering subway lines lay a web of old civil defense shelters, maintenance shafts, and "Ghost Stations"—stops that were planned but never opened.
"Turn here," Yoo-jin ordered.
Kai swerved off the main road, heading down a narrow access ramp toward the Han River maintenance depot.
"Kill the lights."
The bus rolled into the darkness.
The metal gate was rusted shut. A sign read: DANGER - HIGH VOLTAGE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Eden stepped off the bus. The android's eyes glowed with a soft blue light. He walked to the heavy padlock.
He didn't pick it. He just gripped it.
Crunch.
The metal sheared like wet clay.
"Welcome home," Eden said, his voice glitching slightly.
The trainees filed out of the bus, shivering in the damp river air. They looked at the dark tunnel mouth. It smelled of wet concrete and rust.
"We... we have to live in there?" a trainee named Ha-eun whispered. She was clutching her side where the Clone had grabbed her.
"It's dirty," another girl sobbed.
"It's dark."
Panic was spreading. It was a contagion, faster than any virus. If he lost them now, the group would fracture.
Yoo-jin clapped his hands. The sound echoed sharply against the concrete walls.
"Listen up!"
The girls flinched. They looked at him.
Yoo-jin didn't look like a refugee. He stood straight, ignoring his injuries. He looked at the tunnel like he was inspecting a stage at the Olympic Stadium.
"Acoustics check," Yoo-jin said. "High ceiling. Concrete reverb. Natural delay."
He turned to the girls.
"Do you know why idols practice in basement studios? Why hip-hop started in block parties? Why rock bands start in garages?"
He walked toward the darkness.
"Because perfection is boring. Hunger creates art. Zenith has the sky, but we have the ground."
He pointed into the black abyss.
"This isn't a sewer. It's the most exclusive recording booth in the world. Soundproof. Bombproof. And rent-free."
He held out his hand.
"Who wants to make history?"
Silence.
Then, Sae-ri stepped forward. She was wearing a torn dress and combat boots. She grabbed a flashlight from Min-ji.
"I hate the sky anyway," she said. "The sun gives you wrinkles."
She walked into the tunnel.
One by one, the girls followed.
It was a Ghost Station.
Built in the 90s for a line extension that ran out of funding, it was a massive cavern of gray concrete. No tracks, just a long platform and pillars. Dust motes danced in the beams of their flashlights.
"It's... huge," David's voice echoed.
"Eden, power," Yoo-jin ordered.
Eden walked to a rusted breaker box on the far wall. He placed his hand on the panel.
Interface... connection established.
Eden's internal battery surged. He acted as a bridge, hot-wiring the dormant station into the main city grid running parallel behind the wall.
Hummmmm.
Overhead, ancient industrial lights flickered to life. They were dim, buzzing with an orange glow, casting long, dramatic shadows.
The space transformed. It looked industrial. Raw.
"Set up the perimeter," Yoo-jin commanded. "David, get the servers online. We need to know what the world is saying about us. Kai, designate sleeping zones. Safety in numbers."
"What about food?" Min-ji asked. She dropped the heavy cases. "My stomach is eating itself."
"There's a convenience store supply depot two tunnels over," Yoo-jin lied smoothly. He had no idea if that was true, but leaders don't say I don't know. "We raid it tomorrow. Tonight, we ration."
He walked to the edge of the platform. He sat on an empty cable spool.
His legs finally gave out.
He was exhausted. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He touched the bandage Sae-ri had applied in the bus.
"You're shaking," a voice said.
Sae-ri sat down next to him. She handed him a bottle of water. It was warm.
"Adrenaline crash," Yoo-jin muttered. He cracked the cap. "I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar, Han Yoo-jin."
She looked around the cavern. Fifty girls were setting up sleeping bags on the concrete. It looked like a refugee camp, but there was a strange energy. They were helping each other. They were angry.
"They took Ji-soo," Sae-ri said softly. "The Clones."
"I know."
"Why?"
"Because she's the Center," Yoo-jin squeezed the plastic bottle until it crinkled. "She represents the innocent image they need. The Ministry can't just use Clones. Clones are weapons. They need a human face to sell the lie."
"What lie?"
"That everything is fine. That Zenith is still Zenith."
"Boss!" David shouted from the other side of the platform. "You need to see this!"
Yoo-jin forced himself up. He and Sae-ri walked to the makeshift command center—a folding table with three monitors powered by Eden's back port.
"N3KO patched us into the Zenith internal network," David typed furiously. "Look at the trending page."
On the screen, a video was playing.
It was high production value. 4K resolution. Perfect lighting.
The setting was a white room. Pure, clinical, heavenly.
And there, in the center, stood Ji-soo.
She was wearing a white dress. Her makeup was flawless. She looked like an angel.
But Yoo-jin saw the truth. He saw the slight tremor in her hands. The way her pupils were dilated.
Drugs? Or fear?
"Hello, Citizens," Ji-soo spoke. Her voice was steady, but it sounded hollow. "I am safe. The terrorists who kidnapped me—the group known as Starforce—have been neutralized."
"That bitch!" Min-ji growled. "She's reading a script!"
"Shh," Yoo-jin leaned in.
"The Ministry of National Defense rescued me," Ji-soo continued, smiling a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "To celebrate peace, I will be debuting next week. With my new group."
The camera panned out.
Twelve figures stepped into the frame behind her.
They weren't the Clones.
Or rather, they were, but they had been repackaged.
They wore white suits. Their hair was styled perfectly. They didn't look like soldiers anymore. They looked like the ultimate boy group.
Twelve Han Yoo-jins.
And one Ji-soo.
The text on the screen flashed:
DEBUT SHOWCASE: PROJECT AEGIS.
The Idols Who Will Protect You.
"They're debuting the Clones?" Kai asked, horrified. "As idols?"
"It's genius," Yoo-jin whispered. "Terrifyingly genius."
If you present a super-soldier as a weapon, people get scared.
If you present him as an Oppa, people buy the merchandise.
The Ministry was going to brainwash the public through a fandom. They would turn the entire nation into Zenith stans.
"And look at the comments," David pointed.
OMG so handsome!
Thank god Ji-soo is safe!
Starforce are monsters! Capture them!
Project Aegis visuals are insane!
They were losing the narrative. In the span of four hours, Yoo-jin had gone from revolutionary hero to terrorist kidnapper.
"We're dead," David put his head in his hands. "We have no money. No building. And the entire country hates us."
The mood in the Ghost Station plummeted. The trainees watching over David's shoulder looked defeated. How could they fight that?
Yoo-jin stared at the screen. He stared at the face of the Clone standing directly behind Ji-soo.
The Clone was smiling. A perfect, practiced, algorithm-generated smile.
It pissed Yoo-jin off.
"David," Yoo-jin said.
"What?"
"Do we have an internet connection?"
"Yeah, N3KO routed a satellite signal, but—"
"Camera," Yoo-jin ordered.
"Huh?"
"Give me a camera. Now."
Yoo-jin grabbed a portable light and shoved it into Kai's hands. "Hold this."
He dragged a chair to the center of the platform. He sat down. Behind him, the cavernous dark tunnel stretched out like the throat of a monster.
"Hyung, what are you doing?"
"They want a show?" Yoo-jin unbuttoned his bloody collar. He looked into the lens. "I'll give them a reality show."
He didn't clean up the blood on his forehead. He didn't fix his hair. He looked raw, dangerous, and real.
"Live stream," Yoo-jin commanded. "Platform: Every pirate server you can find."
"We'll be tracked!"
"Let them track us. By the time they get here, the damage will be done."
David hit the key.
STREAM START.
Yoo-jin leaned forward. The red light of the camera reflected in his dark eyes.
"Hello, Korea," Yoo-jin said, his voice echoing in the tunnel.
"My name is Han Yoo-jin. The real one."
He held up his middle finger.
"And I have a production note for the Ministry."
He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
"Your center is flat."