I stepped closer to the glass pod, my breath fogging up the cold surface.
It wasn’t a mask.
It was a perfect, bio-synthetic copy of my face.
The messy hair, the small scar on my chin, even the exact shape of my closed eyes.
It was floating in the blue chemical fluid, waiting to be pulled out and stretched over a metal skull.
“Ji-hoo,” Sua whispered, her voice shaking.
She grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
“Why…
why is your face in there?”
My mind raced.
The Apex Foundation didn’t just want to kill me.
They wanted to replace me.
“They know I’m a threat,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“If I just disappear, people might ask questions.
But if an android wears my face, it can go back to my apartment.
It can destroy all my research.
It can live my life and make sure no one ever finds out the truth.”
A heavy, sickening thought hit me.
In my previous 46 lives…
did they succeed?
Did a fake Ji-hoo walk around the city after I died, smiling at my neighbors and burning my diaries?
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
The violent pounding on the heavy steel door snapped us out of our shock.
“Open the door!
Security breach!” a muffled, angry voice shouted from the hallway.
It wasn’t a machine.
It was a human soldier.
“They’re cutting the lock!” Sua yelled, pointing at the door frame.
Bright orange sparks were shooting through the metal crack as someone on the other side used a plasma torch.
“Where is that ventilation shaft?!” I asked, spinning around.
“There!” Sua pointed her shotgun toward the back corner of the massive server room.
Behind rows of blinking black supercomputers, there was a large, square metal grate set high up in the concrete wall.
It was marked with a faded yellow sign: Emergency Exhaust – Roof Access.
We sprinted across the room, our boots splashing through the puddles of synthetic fluid on the floor.
I jumped onto a cooling fan unit and reached up, grabbing the bars of the metal grate.
I pulled with all my strength.
“Move!” Sua shouted.
I dropped down just as she swung the heavy wooden butt of her shotgun directly into the center of the grate.
CLANG!
The metal bent.
She hit it again, harder this time.
The old bolts snapped, and the heavy grate crashed to the floor.
“Go!
Get up there!” I yelled, cupping my hands together to give her a boost.
Sua stepped into my hands, and I pushed her upward.
She grabbed the edge of the dark shaft and pulled herself inside, turning quickly to reach her hand back down for me.
CRASH!
The main server room door blew open in a cloud of smoke and fire.
Five soldiers in heavy black tactical armor poured into the room, their assault rifles raised.
Their laser sights swept across the glass pods and the computer servers, searching for targets.
“Hey!” one of them shouted, spotting my blue mechanic’s jumpsuit.
“Ji-hoo, jump!” Sua screamed.
I leaped off the cooling unit, grabbing her outstretched hand.
With a desperate heave, Sua pulled me up into the dusty, narrow metal tunnel.
Bullets slammed into the concrete wall right where my head had been a second ago.
“They’re in the vents!” a soldier yelled below.
I kicked the broken metal grate back down the hole to block their path.
“Crawl!
As fast as you can!” I told Sua.
The ventilation shaft was completely dark and smelled like rust and old dust.
It slanted upward at a steep angle.
We scrambled on our hands and knees, our elbows scraping against the sharp metal corners.
Below us, we could hear the soldiers shouting into their radios, calling for a team to secure the roof.
It took us two agonizing minutes of climbing before we saw a square of gray, cloudy light ahead.
The roof exit.
I pushed the lightweight rain cover open and we tumbled out onto the flat, tar-covered roof of the Ministry of Defense.
The cold morning wind hit us instantly.
We were ten stories high.
The sprawling city of Seoul stretched out below us, completely unaware of the nightmare happening beneath its streets.
“We made it,” Sua panted, resting her hands on her knees.
“Not yet,” I said, looking around frantically.
There was a helicopter pad on the far side of the roof, and two steel access doors that the soldiers were definitely going to come through any second.
But before we could find a fire escape, a strange, low humming noise began to vibrate through the soles of my shoes.
Sua froze.
I looked down at the city.
Every single massive digital billboard in the downtown area suddenly flickered.
The colorful advertisements vanished.
The streetlights on the main roads turned from yellow to a bright, unnatural blue.
Every security camera mounted on every street corner suddenly turned, their lenses focusing and glowing with small red lights.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
My chest pocket grew terrifyingly hot.
It felt like a burning coal against my skin.
I pulled the Death Log out.
The pages flipped open on their own, the black ink writing in bold, frantic letters:
Run 47.
You are too late.
Director Baek has won the vote.
The Aegis Grid is online.
A loud, electronic chime echoed across the entire city, playing through the emergency speakers on the streets.
Then, a smooth, calm voice spoke from every television screen, billboard, and radio in Seoul.
“Citizens,” the voice said.
It was Director Baek.
“Do not be alarmed.
The Aegis Grid is now active.
This system will guarantee absolute safety for our nation.
The new era of peace begins today.”
Sua stared at the glowing blue streetlights below.
“They can see everything now.
Every camera in the city belongs to them.”
Suddenly, the two steel access doors on the roof burst open.
A squad of soldiers poured out, their weapons raised and pointed straight at us.
“Put your hands in the air!” the captain yelled.
But right behind the soldiers, a man walked out onto the roof.
He wasn’t wearing a military uniform.
He was wearing a plain gray raincoat.
It was the Cleaner.
The human assassin who had been hunting us.
He looked past the soldiers, his cold eyes locking onto mine.
A slow, cruel smile spread across his face as he reached inside his coat.
“End of the line, time-traveler,” the Cleaner said softly, drawing a sleek black pistol.