(POV: SEO-JUN — THE EXECUTIONER
LOCATION: THE WHITE VOID / STATUS: THE PROXIMITY CURSE.)
I woke up in a vacuum of blinding white data. No floor. No sky. Just a null-dimension where reality had been scrubbed clean. The only thing tethering me to existence was the heavy, frantic heartbeat of the Anomaly against my chest.
(SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: SURVIVAL PACT ACTIVE. SYNCHRONY: 45%.)
(WARNING: PROXIMITY LIMIT — 10 METERS. SEPARATION = SOUL FRACTURE.)
I looked at Ha-joon. He was grinning, his violet eyes blown wide as they reflected the infinite nothingness. "We did it, King," he rasped. "We actually pulled the plug."
"I pulled the plug," I corrected, my hand clamping around his throat—not to kill, but to anchor. "You just provided the short circuit."
The curse hit us immediately. Ha-joon tried to drift away to touch a floating fragment of the Academy's clock tower. The second he crossed the ten-meter mark, our souls tore. It wasn't a metaphor. It was a sharp, ripping agony that made us both gasp and claw back toward each other. We were literally chained by obsession now—a metaphysical leash that stapled our spirits together with jagged needles of mana.
There was no audience left. No Order. Just two monsters in a white room. I pulled him back into my personal space, my fingers digging into his skin, tracing the [REBOOT FRACTURES] that were still glowing with the heat of the collapse.
"Since there's no world left to delete," I hissed, "I'll spend my eternity deleting every thought in your head that isn't me."
This was our first "Void Synchronization." Without gravity or laws, our intimacy became a brutal struggle for dominance. I wasn't gentle. I wanted to see how much of my Executioner's frequency he could conduct before he shattered. Every touch sent a surge of black mana into his violet core, a violent exchange of energy that felt like a battle.
(MANA SYNC IN PROGRESS. PLEASURE/PAIN FEEDBACK LOOP: STABLE.)
We drifted in the nothingness, a collision of black and violet lightning. I marked him—deeper this time—my teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of his shoulder until the bond snapped back with a wave of euphoric feedback that nearly short-circuited my HUD. It was a toxic loop: I hurt him, the bond healed him, and the energy released made us both stronger.
But the void wasn't empty. Fragments of "Deleted Worlds" began to drift by like ghosts. A scorched violin. A stone throne. Ha-joon's eyes widened as a blood-stained executioner's block floated past.
"I remember that," he whispered. "Life number 42. That's where the last guy ended me."
The honeymoon shattered. A black rift tore open ten meters away. Three figures stepped out in silver-and-gold Order armor. My former colleagues.
The leader looked at us with pure disgust. "Seo-jun. You were sent to delete the bug. Not marry it."
I manifested my [EXECUTIONER'S WHIP], the black lightning longer and darker than ever. "He isn't a bug anymore. He's the owner of this dimension. And you're trespassing."
____
POV: HA-JOON — THE REGRESSOR
(STATUS: COMBAT ENGAGED / SYNC: 55%.)
The Order squad didn't waste time with dialogue. They moved with the clinical precision of hitmen. To them, I was a pile of corrupted code. To Seo-jun, I was a traitor's prize.
"Target the anomaly!" the leader barked. "Seo-jun is compromised. Delete them both!"
Two of them lunged at me with Deletion-Blades. I didn't flinch. (BOND SIDE-EFFECT: SHARED SENSES.) I felt Seo-jun's rage before he even moved—a cold, suffocating pressure in my own lungs.
"Don't touch him!" Seo-jun roared. He swung his whip, a massive arc of black lightning that tore through the white void. One Executioner was caught in the throat and dragged into a miniature void-rift Seo-jun had opened in mid-air.
I stepped forward, my eyes glowing violet. I let a spectral blade thrust into my shoulder on purpose.
(SKILL ACTIVATED: ECHO PAIN — MAX OVERLOAD.)
The Executioner's armor peeled back like paper as the reflected damage exploded outward, shattering his arm into grey pixels.
Seo-jun appeared behind him, his hand glowing with black fire. He reached into the man's chest and deleted his soul-file manually. The Executioner vanished into ash.
(BOND DEEPENING: MEMORY BLEED INITIATED.)
As the second one died, a jolt of raw data hit my brain. I wasn't just seeing Seo-jun; I was being him. I saw his first mission centuries ago—a child anomaly crying for mercy. I felt his heart freeze as he did the job.
"Ha-joon, focus!" Seo-jun's voice snapped me back.
The leader retreated into the rift, bleeding black mana. "The Purge Fleet is mobilizing. You have 72 hours before the universe is scrubbed clean of your existence."
The rift closed. We were alone, drifting toward a "Void Island"—a floating chunk of a deleted Gothic world. We landed on the grey grass of a ruined cathedral.
My shoulder was healing, but the memory bleed was a heavy weight.
"I saw it," I whispered. "The child. Life number one."
Seo-jun turned away, his hands trembling. "I saw your 99th death. The way you begged for it to be slow. We're both disgusting, aren't we?"
We found a broken System Terminal inside the cathedral. It hummed to life.
[NEW OBJECTIVE: REBUILD PRIVATE TIMELINE.]
[REQUIREMENT: 100% BOND SYNCHRONY.]
[FAILURE: PERMANENT ERASE.]
The terminal demanded a ritual dive. We had to relive each other's worst memory. To prove we could carry the weight of our sins.
"Ready to see how deep my hell goes, King?" I asked.
Seo-jun grabbed my hand, his grip desperate. "I'm already living in it, Ha-joon. Let's go."