The engine of the silver sedan sputtered as it climbed the winding mountain road, sending a thick cloud of exhaust into the fog.
Behind us, the blue lights of Seoul had vanished hours ago.
Down in the valley, the city had looked like a glowing cage under the new Aegis Grid.
Up here, in the cold air of the eastern mountains, there were no digital billboards or smart streetlights.
There were only towering pine trees, shattered asphalt, and steep cliffs dropping into dark ravines.
I gripped the steering wheel tight.
My hands were stiff from the cold draft blowing through the broken rear window.
Beside me in the passenger seat, Sua was fast asleep.
Her cap was pulled low over her eyes, and her sawed-off shotgun rested across her lap.
Her breathing was slow and heavy.
For the first time since I woke up in that police station on Run 47, she looked completely at peace.
In the back seat, Assemblyman Kang was slouched against the door, snoring softly.
He had wrapped his ruined suit jacket around his chest to stay warm.
He looked less like a powerful politician now and more like a tired old man who had lost everything.
I looked down at the dashboard.
The fuel gauge needle was hovering barely above the red empty line.
We need gas, I thought.
And we need to get off this main road before sunrise.
I reached into my jumpsuit pocket and touched the Death Log.
The book was cool, but a steady, calm pulse vibrated through the leather, like a tiny heartbeat.
I flipped the cover open with one hand, keeping my other hand on the wheel.
In the dim yellow light of the dashboard, fresh black ink was waiting on the page:
Run 47.
You have crossed the mountain pass into Taebaek County.
The Aegis Grid cannot reach you here—the old radio towers in these hills were abandoned twenty years ago.
Drive two miles past the broken stone marker.
You will find an old logging station with a hand-pumped fuel tank.
Do not use your headlights after the marker.
I let out a quiet breath and closed the diary.
Two miles down the road, the stone marker appeared on the shoulder—a cracked slab of gray granite overgrown with dried moss.
I reached over to the dash and flipped the headlight switch to off.
The world went instantly pitch black.
The sedan rolled forward in the gloom, guided only by the pale moonlight filtering through the fog.
I slowed down to twenty miles per hour, my eyes straining to catch the edge of the asphalt.
”Ji-hoo?” Sua’s voice was raspy from sleep.
She shifted in her seat, her eyes opening instantly as she felt the car slow down.
Her hand went straight to the wooden stock of her gun.
“Why did you turn the lights off?”
”We’re close,” I whispered.
“The book says there’s a gas station ahead.
We can’t give away our position.”
”Are we in Taebaek?” she asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
”Just inside the county line,” I replied.
“How are you feeling?”
Sua looked down at her hands, flexing her cold fingers.
“Like I fell off a ten-story building and got dragged through a river.” She gave me a small, crooked smile.
“So, better than yesterday.”
I chuckled softly, keeping my eyes on the dark road ahead.
To our right, a low wooden building emerged from the fog.
It was an old logging station, its roof sagging under years of snow and rain.
A rusted iron fuel tank sat on concrete blocks near a dark garage bay, complete with a manual hand-crank pump.
I turned the sedan into the overgrown gravel lot, rolling to a stop right beside the fuel tank.
I killed the engine.
The sudden silence was massive.
There was no sound except the wind whistling through the pines and the quiet ping-ping-ping of the car’s cooling engine.
”Wake the assemblyman,” I told Sua.
“We need to fill the tank and check the map.”
Sua reached into the back and nudged Kang’s shoulder.
The politician jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his eyes wide with panic before he remembered where he was.
”Are we there?” Kang asked, wiping his face.
“Did they find us?”
”No one found us,” Sua said, opening her door.
“Get out and help us push the car into the shadow of the shed.
If a drone flies over, I don’t want this silver paint reflecting the moon.”
We stepped out into the freezing night air.
The smell of wet pine needles and crushed gravel hit my nose.
It was completely different from the sharp, metallic smell of Seoul.
Together, the three of us pushed the silver sedan under the leaning wooden overhang of the logging shed.
While Sua stood watch near the road with her shotgun, I unhooked the rubber hose from the hand pump and shoved the nozzle into the sedan’s fuel tank.
I grabbed the iron crank handle and began turning it.
CREAK.
CLANK.
CREAK.
CLANK.
The heavy mechanical gears groaned in the quiet night, but after a few turns, the thick smell of old gasoline filled the air, and fuel began flowing down the line.
Kang leaned against the wooden wall of the shed, shivering violently in his thin shirt.
“I don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice trembling.
“Director Baek…
I’ve known him for five years.
We sat on the same committees.
We drank tea in his office at the 7th Bureau.
He was a war hero.
He had pictures of his family on his desk.”
I kept cranking the handle, my arms burning with the effort.
“The real Baek might have been a war hero, Assemblyman.
But the man running the 7th Bureau today isn’t interested in tea.”
”The fragment said Baek is human,” Sua said from the edge of the gravel lot, her back to us as she watched the road.
“He isn’t a synthetic replacement.
He’s the one building them.”
”Which makes him worse,” I added, locking the fuel nozzle back onto the pump.
“An android is just following its programming.
Director Baek chose to skin people and build a machine empire.”
I walked over to the driver’s side of the car, pulled out the paper roadmap we had grabbed from the Ministry breakroom, and spread it out on the hood.
Sua walked over, clicking on her small tactical flashlight and keeping the beam shielded with her hand so it only lit up the map.
”Where was Baek born?” she asked, pointing her finger at the cluster of mountains marked in green.
”The log said Taebaek,” I replied, tracing the lines on the paper.
“During the 1980s, this whole area was a boomtown for coal mining.
When the government closed the mines twenty years ago, the towns emptied out.
Most of them are ghost towns now.”
”A perfect place to build secret laboratories,” Kang whispered, stepping closer to look at the map.
“The military owned several deep underground storage bunkers in these mountains after the war.
If Baek wanted a facility away from civilian eyes, he would have used those old shafts.”
I nodded, my eyes stopping at a small black dot labeled Dosit-ri.
It sat at the end of a dead-end road deep inside a steep canyon.
”Dosit-ri,” I read aloud.
“Population zero.”
”That’s where we’re going?” Sua asked.
”That’s where the third piece of Page 12 is,” I said.
“My 46th self left it there for a reason.
He knew that if the city fell to the Aegis Grid, Taebaek was the only place left where we could find Baek’s origins.”
Before Sua could reply, a faint sound drifted through the mountain fog.
It wasn’t the wind.
It was the low, steady rumble of a heavy engine.
Sua instantly clicked off the flashlight.
Darkness swallowed us again.
”Get down,” I breathed, grabbing Kang’s shoulder and pulling him flat against the gravel behind the sedan. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Sua crouched right beside me, resting her shotgun across the hood of the car.
Far down the mountain road, two narrow beams of bright white light pierced through the thick fog.
A vehicle was coming up the pass, moving fast.
”Is it a police car?” Kang whimpered, burying his face in his hands.
”No,” I whispered, watching the lights cut through the trees.
“Police cars use blue Aegis strobes now.
Those are halogen high-beams.”
The vehicle rounded the sharp bend in the road.
It was a massive, matte-black armored pickup truck with reinforced steel bumpers and dark tinted windows.
It had no license plates.
My chest pocket grew warm.
A slow, hot heat spread across my ribs.
I didn’t need to open the Death Log to know what that heat meant.
”The Cleaner,” Sua whispered, her teeth clenching.
“He tracked the sedan.”
”He didn’t use the Aegis Grid,” I realized, watching the black truck slow down as it passed the broken stone marker.
“He used old-fashioned tire tracking.
Our rear tires were leaking fluid after the drop from the Ministry roof.”
The black truck rolled past the logging station, its heavy tires crunching slowly over the wet asphalt.
For three terrifying seconds, its high-beams swept across the front of the wooden shed, lighting up the dust floating in the air just inches above our heads.
None of us moved.
None of us breathed.
The truck kept going, its red taillights disappearing into the fog as it headed further up the mountain toward the dead-end canyon of Dosit-ri.
”He knows we’re in these mountains,” Sua said softly, pushing herself up from the gravel.
“He’s heading straight for the mining town.”
”Then he’s leading us right to Baek’s doorstep,” I said, opening the driver’s door of our silver car.
“Get in.
We follow him without lights.”
The canyon road to Dosit-ri felt like driving into a stone tomb.
The granite walls rose hundreds of feet on either side of us, blocking out even the faint light of the moon.
I kept fifty yards between our car and the faint red glow of the Cleaner’s taillights ahead, coasting in neutral whenever the road sloped downward to keep the engine sound quiet.
After three miles, the canyon opened up into a wide, bowl-shaped valley.
Dosit-ri was dead.
Row upon row of collapsed wooden houses sat along muddy, unpaved streets.
Broken coal carts sat rusted on old iron tracks.
In the center of the valley stood the main coal processing plant—a massive, seven-story structure of corrugated steel and iron beams that looked like a giant skeleton rising out of the dirt.
The Cleaner’s black truck had stopped in the center of the town square, right in front of the coal plant’s main entrance.
Its engine was idling quietly, its headlights pointing straight at the rusted steel doors.
I parked our sedan behind a row of collapsed wooden miner shacks a hundred yards away.
”We stay on foot from here,” I told Kang.
“Stay inside this shack.
If you hear shooting, do not come out.”
”Ji-hoo…” Kang said, grabbing my sleeve.
His hands were shaking.
“If you don’t come back…”
”If I don’t come back, walk west toward the highway,” I said.
“Stay off the roads.”
I pulled the steel wrench from my belt, handing it to him.
“Use this if anyone tries to open the door.”
Kang looked at the heavy iron tool, then nodded slowly.
He shrank back into the darkness of the shack, pulling a broken wooden door shut behind him.
Sua and I stepped out into the mud.
The air here smelled strange—not like pines, but like old chemicals, burnt sulfur, and cold damp earth.
We moved low from shack to shack, keeping our eyes on the Cleaner’s truck.
The driver’s side door of the black truck opened.
The Cleaner stepped out onto the muddy street.
He was still wearing his gray raincoat, but now he had a long, black tactical rifle slung over his shoulder.
He didn’t look around.
He didn’t scan the shacks.
He stepped straight up to the heavy steel doors of the coal plant, pulled out a small electronic bypass device, and pressed it against the door’s rusty lock.
BEEP-CLICK.
The heavy steel door slid open with a screech of rusted iron.
The Cleaner stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind him.
”He’s inside,” Sua whispered, crouching beside me behind an old coal cart.
“Why would a killer come to an abandoned coal plant?”
”Because it’s not an abandoned coal plant,” I said.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Death Log.
The book was glowing with a bright, hot orange light now.
I opened the cover.
Fresh red ink was writing itself faster than I had ever seen before:
Run 47.
You have reached Dosit-ri.
Below the coal plant lies Sub-Level Alpha—Director Baek’s original laboratory built in 1998.
This is where the first skin-wearing prototype was created.
The third fragment of Page 12 is stored inside the central core vault.
But warning, Ji-hoo: The Cleaner is not here to kill you.
He is here to destroy the vault before you can read it.
My blood ran cold.
”He isn’t hunting us anymore,” I told Sua, my voice tight.
“Baek sent him to burn the evidence before we could reach it.
If he destroys that vault, we lose Page 12 forever.”
”Then we stop him,” Sua said, racking the slide of her shotgun with a sharp CLACK.
“How do we get inside without using the main door?”
I scanned the Death Log’s fresh text.
Use the ventilation shaft on the northern side of the main structure.
It connects directly to the old coal chute.
”Follow me,” I said.
We sprinted across the muddy lot, keeping close to the massive iron walls of the coal plant.
We rounded the northern corner, finding a heavy iron pipe three feet wide protruding from the foundation.
The metal grate covering it had long since rusted away into orange powder.
I crawled in first, the freezing iron scraping against my knees and shoulders.
Sua followed right behind me.
The pipe angled sharply downward, sliding us twenty feet down a slick, coal-dusted chute until we tumbled out onto a high metal catwalk inside the facility.
I caught myself on the catwalk railing, looking down into the massive space below.
My breath caught in my throat.
Above ground, the building was a ruined coal plant.
But below ground, the entire mountain had been hollowed out into a massive, sterile white facility illuminated by blinding fluorescent lights.
Rows of automated assembly lines stretched across the concrete floor.
Mechanical robotic arms hung suspended from the ceiling.
Glass tanks filled with clear liquid held dozens of unformed, white synthetic human skeletons waiting for flesh.
It was a factory.
A factory capable of building an army.
And right in the center of the facility sat a heavy steel vault door marked with the red symbol of the 7th Bureau.
Standing in front of that vault was the Cleaner.
He had set a heavy black case on a folding table.
He was pulling out magnetic explosive charges and slapping them directly onto the vault’s locking mechanism.
”He’s setting charges!” Sua whispered beside me on the catwalk.
”We don’t have time to be quiet,” I said, gripping the handrail.
I drew my empty police revolver from my belt.
I didn’t have bullets, but I needed a distraction.
I threw the heavy steel gun with all my weight straight across the cavernous room.
CRASH!
The revolver smashed into a glass tank fifty feet away, shattering the thick panel and sending hundreds of gallons of synthetic liquid crashing onto the concrete floor.
The Cleaner spun around instantly, his black rifle coming up to his shoulder in a split second.
His cold eyes swept up toward the high catwalks, locking directly onto us.
”Ji-hoo,” the Cleaner said, his voice echoing across the hollow factory through his suit’s comms microphone.
“I gave you a chance to die quickly on the roof.
”Because you missed your shot, gray-coat!” Sua yelled.
She raised her shotgun and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The heavy blast ripped through the air.
The buckshot slammed into the folding table next to the Cleaner, destroying his black case and scattering the remaining explosive charges across the concrete floor.
The Cleaner didn’t scream.
He didn’t panic.
He simply dropped behind a steel pillar as Sua’s second shot tore through the air where his chest had been a second before.
”Move!” I shouted, grabbing Sua’s arm as return fire from the Cleaner’s rifle ripped through the metal catwalk beneath our feet.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Sparks erupted everywhere as high-velocity rounds punched clean through the iron walkways.
We ducked behind a heavy ventilation duct, the metal hot against our backs.
”He’s pinned us on the high ground!” Sua yelled, reloading two fresh shells into her shotgun with practiced speed.
“If we stay up here, he’ll flank us from the stairs!”
”We need to get to that vault before the charges he already placed go off!” I said, looking down at the heavy steel door.
A small red timer on the magnetic charge was blinking rapidly: 01:45…
01:44…
01:43…
Less than two minutes before the vault was destroyed.
”I’ll draw his fire!” Sua said, looking me straight in the eyes.
“You get to the vault!”
”No!
Sua, he’s a professional assassin—”
”And I’m a woman with a shotgun who is tired of running!” she interrupted, her eyes fierce.
“You’re the only one who can read the book, Ji-hoo.
You get the page.
I’ll keep his eyes on me.”
Before I could stop her, Sua stood up from behind the duct, racked her weapon, and fired down at the Cleaner’s pillar.
BOOM!
”Hey!
Gray-coat!” she screamed, running down the left catwalk toward the crane assembly.
“Over here!”
The Cleaner shifted his rifle, his barrel following her movement.
I didn’t waste her sacrifice.
I threw myself over the catwalk railing, dropping ten feet onto the top of a giant server rack, then sliding down the metal frame onto the concrete floor below.
My boots hit the ground hard.
Pain shot up my ankles, but I pushed through it, sprinting straight toward the vault door.
01:12…
01:11…
01:10…
The red timer on the explosive charge was counting down fast.
I reached the steel vault, grabbing the handles of the magnetic charge.
I pulled with all my strength to rip it off the door, but the powerful magnets were locked tight against the iron.
”It’s biometrically fused!” a voice called out from above.
I looked up.
The Cleaner was standing on the middle catwalk, his rifle pointed straight down at my head.
Sua was lying on the catwalk ten feet behind him, groaning as she tried to reach her dropped shotgun—she had been struck by a glancing round.
”You can’t remove the charge without my thumbprint, Ji-hoo,” the Cleaner said calmly, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“And you don’t have time to kill me.”
00:42…
00:41…
00:40…
My heart hammered in my chest.
The Death Log in my pocket was burning hot—so hot it felt like my coat was on fire.
I ripped the book from my coat and threw it open.
The pages flipped furiously on their own, stopping at a blank page at the very back.
Red ink exploded across the white paper in giant, panicked letters:
Run 47.
Do not touch the charge.
The vault door is already unlocked.
Director Baek left it open in 1998 because he never thought anyone would find this place.
PULL THE WHEEL LEFT!
I dropped the book, grabbed the massive iron wheel in the center of the vault door, and slammed all my weight into it, spinning it to the left.
CLANG-HEAVY-LATCH-RELEASE.
The six-inch thick steel vault door hissed, unsealing itself and swinging open six inches.
The Cleaner’s eyes widened in genuine shock.
For the first time, his calm face cracked into absolute fury.
“No!”
He raised his rifle to shoot me, but behind him, Sua found her strength.
She grabbed a heavy iron pipe from the catwalk floor and swung it with everything she had straight into the back of his knees.
CRACK!
The Cleaner gasped as his legs gave out, his rifle discharge punching harmlessly into the ceiling as he crashed onto the metal walkway.
I threw my shoulder against the heavy vault door, slipping inside the dark, ice-cold room just as the timer hit zero.
00:03…
00:02…
00:01…
BOOM!
The magnetic charge on the outside of the door exploded in a blinding flash of orange fire and black smoke.
The heavy steel vault door slammed shut from the blast wave, sealing me inside the total darkness of the inner chamber.
The noise of the factory vanished.
I lay on the cold stone floor of the vault, coughing in the dark, my ears ringing violently from the blast.
”Sua…” I croaked, trying to stand up.
“Sua…”
I reached into my pocket, pulling out my small box of safety matches.
I struck one against the box.
A small, flickering yellow flame lit up the tiny room.
The vault was simple.
No computers.
No high-tech screens.
Just a single stone pedestal in the center of the chamber, covered in twenty years of white dust.
Sitting on top of the pedestal was a small glass box.
And inside that glass box lay the third and final piece of Page 12.
I walked over, my hands shaking as I lifted the glass cover.
I picked up the yellowed, torn scrap of paper.
I reached into my coat, pulled out the Death Log and the first two fragments, and laid all three pieces together on the pedestal.
The three torn edges fit together like a key in a lock.
The handwriting of my 46th self was complete at last.
I held the match close, reading the full, unbroken message from my past life:
To whoever reaches Run 47:
Director Baek of the 7th Bureau is human.
He created the Apex Foundation using military budget funds to build the skin-wearing androids.
He plans to use the Aegis Grid to monitor every citizen in the country.
To stop him, you must reveal the truth to his original creator.
Director Baek did not design the androids.
He stole the technology in 1998 from his lead research partner—a woman named Han Sua.
She is not a timeline anomaly.
She is the mind who built the original AI.
And she is the only person who holds the master override code to shut the Aegis Grid down forever.
The match burned down to my fingers, going out.
Darkness fell over the vault again.
I stood in the cold room, my breath freezing in the air, my mind completely paralyzed by the words I had just read.
Sua wasn’t just a shop owner who fixed clocks.
She was the creator of the nightmare.
And she didn’t even remember.