CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER 53: ASYLUM

Hunter Association - Medical Wing - 1:34 AM

White ceiling.

That’s what Yoo saw when he woke up, clean and sterile, the sharp smell of antiseptic clouded his nose.

His body felt heavy, and really warm after hours of freezing.

He tried to sit up, another hand pushed him back down.

"Stay still." An older female medic, oder, her badge read Gold 41. "You’re severely hypothermic, core temperature just stabilized, moving around will shock your system."

Yoo relaxed as his head fell back against the pillow.

His broken fingers were properly set now, proper medical work, not field splints. They’d wrapped his shoulder wound. Bandaged a dozen cuts he hadn’t noticed getting.

"Ji-yeon," he said. His throat was raw. "Subject 31. Where—"

"Next room, also hypothermic but stable. She’ll recover soon enough" The medic checked monitors. "You both got lucky, another hour in that water and we’d be having a very different conversation."

Lucky?.

Yoo almost laughed, fourteen percent odds, three flares, one desperate gamble.

Luck had nothing to do with it.

The door opened with captain Lee stepping in, he looked tired, this was his third-day tired, which came from too much coffee and not enough answers.

"You’re awake, good." Lee pulled up a chair, sat heavily. "We need to talk."

"Am I under arrest?"

"No, the opposite, you’re under protection, there’s a difference." Lee gestured at the room. "Right now, you’re the safest person in Seoul, three Hunter Association Diamond-ranks outside your door, spatial locks on every entrance, no one gets to you without going through us."

"Why?"

"Because Director Kwan of Crucible Initiative just filed an international incident report which claims you, and Subject 31 escaped custody while being lawfully transported, and demanded immediate extradition." Lee’s expression was flat. "We declined."

Yoo processed this. "You’re harboring fugitives."

"By doing this we’re protecting Korean citizens from illegal human experimentation, also different." Lee pulled out a tablet. "Crucible operates in legal gray zones, the international waters or foreign registration, but you were born in Seoul, that makes you ours they can file all the reports they want."

He set the tablet down.

"Now, tell me everything, let’s start with how you ended up on that boat."

Yoo did, he left out nothing the seed integration, the cooperation agreement, the Damascus Protocol leak, the Serpent’s Eye ritual, Kwan’s real plan—not extraction, but awakening something that was already here.

Lee listened without interrupting. His expression grew darker with each detail.

"The Serpent," Lee said when Yoo finished. "Kwan said it’s already here, partially manifested and trapped between dimensions."

"Yes."

"And the ritual would give it anchor points and let it manifest fully."

"That’s what he said."

Lee was quiet for a long moment. Then he pulled out a data chip, the one Park had given him in the subway.

"This is the complete Damascus Protocol. Including Step Five." He inserted it into the tablet. "I had our cryptography team analyze it. Took them eighteen hours to crack the final layer of encryption."

The screen filled with dense text, full of terms Yoo only partially understood.

But the summary was clear enough:

STEP FIVE: DIMENSIONAL BREACH COMPLETION

Upon simultaneous death of all seven recipients, accumulated Primordial essence creates resonance cascade. Dimensional barriers thin at convergence point. Entity designated "Serpent-Who-Coils-Through-Seven-Depths" achieves full manifestation.

WARNING: Entity is NOT controllable. NOT negotiable. NOT bound by human concepts of alliance or gratitude. Manifestation will result in ZK-Class Reality Restructuring Event. Estimated casualties: 400 million to 3.2 billion depending on manifestation stability.

RECOMMENDATION: DO NOT PROCEED WITH RITUAL UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

Yoo stared at the screen.

Three billion casualties.

Maximum.

"Kwan knew this," Lee said. "He read the same file and knew exactly what he was trying to unleash but still did it anyway."

"Why?"

"That’s what I want to know." Lee closed the tablet. "But right now, we have more immediate problems. Crucible lost two recipients—you and Subject 31. But they still have five others, and fifty-one hours until convergence."

"The ritual needs all seven."

"Unless there’s a variation, a backup procedure, we don’t know what they’re planning." Lee stood. "You’re staying here where you’re protected until we figure out what Crucible’s next move is."

He moved toward the door.

"Captain," Yoo said. "What about my father?"

Lee paused. "Your father?"

"Jae-sung. The cooperation agreement—Crucible promised information about where he was taken, that’s why I agreed to work with them."

Lee’s expression shifted, something close to pity.

"Kid, I don’t know how to tell you this gently, so I won’t. Crucible lied, your father wasn’t taken by anyone named Vraxian. He wasn’t taken to a trial realm." Lee pulled up a file on his tablet. "Jae-sung disappeared eight months ago, standard missing person case. The hunter Association investigated and found nothing, no evidence of kidnapping, no ransom, no body. He just... vanished."

Ice spread through Yoo’s chest.

"Crucible invented the story about Vraxian, used it as leverage to make you cooperate. There was never any information to give you." Lee’s voice was gentle. "I’m sorry."

He left.

Yoo lay in the hospital bed, staring at nothing.

They lied.

Everything. All of it. The cooperation agreement. The promised information. The entire reason I agreed to let them study me.

Lies.

Akasha Archive, probability my father is still alive.

Silence. Then: "Insufficient data. If he disappeared eight months ago without evidence of death, possibilities include: voluntary disappearance, accidental death with body not recovered, kidnapping by unknown party, dimensional accident, or—"

Stop.

Just stop.

Yoo closed his eyes.

For the first time in weeks, he disabled Akasha Archive’s emotional suppression completely.

Everything came flooding back.

Grief came raw and sharp. His father was gone, possibly dead, could be suffering, and Yoo had wasted weeks with Crucible chasing a lie.

Rage, at Kwan, at Crucible, then at himself for believing them.

Fear, he was alone, truly alone, no family. No allies except two women he’d just met who’d saved him for their own convinient reasons.

The emotions crashed over him like waves, drowning him.

It continues for five minutes, ten.

Then he reactivated Akasha Archive.

The emotions muted. Became manageable. Data points instead of overwhelming sensations.

Calculate: what are my options now?

"Option One: Remain under Hunter Association protection, Safe but controlled, No freedom of movement."