The neon lights of New Seoul flickered as the Celestial Sector overhead pulsed with a rhythmic, golden heartbeat. Below, the three Archangels—Michael, Uriel, and Raphael—remained on one knee, their light-scythes deactivated in a terrifying display of submission.
Han-Jun stood in the center of the silent plaza, his chest heaving. The golden veins in his arms were no longer glowing; they were vibrating, humming in resonance with the girl on the screen.
"Hee... this isn't you," Han-Jun rasped, his voice cracking. "The Queen... she's twisting your mind. Like she did to the Hive. Like she did to the Chimera."
On the massive holographic display, Han-Hee's face was calm—too calm. She sat in the Chairman's high-backed throne, her small hands resting on the armrests that once controlled the world's economy.
"The Queen didn't twist me, brother," Han-Hee replied, her voice projected through every speaker in the city. "She opened me. You fought to 'save' these people, but look at them. Min-Ho tried to kill you. The students are rioting. The system you broke only left a wound that won't stop bleeding. I'm not twisting the world. I'm cauterizing it."
The Commandment of Gold
Han-Hee raised a finger.
Immediately, the three Archangels stood up. They didn't look at Han-Jun; they looked at the unconscious Min-Ho and the trembling students in the shadows.
"If you won't join the Crown, Han-Jun, then you are just another 'corrupted file'. Archangels: Execute the 'Purge' at 50% capacity. Start with the ones he loves."
Michael-2 moved first. His armor didn't hiss; it sang. He raised his hand, and a lattice of golden lasers began to map the plaza, marking every living soul for deletion.
"NO!" Han-Jun roared.
He didn't run. He detonated.
He pushed his "Zero-State" past the 200% limit, ignoring the warning messages flashing in his retinas. The gold in his blood began to boil. He slammed his fists into the ground, sending a wave of Solidified Resonance through the concrete.
The shockwave didn't just break the ground; it created a physical barrier of upturned asphalt and steel between the Archangels and the students.
"Min-Ho! Wake up!" Han-Jun screamed, grabbing the unconscious boy and tossing him toward a group of fleeing Fanatics. "Get everyone to the subways! The deep tunnels have lead lining—it'll scramble the Archangels' targeting!"
The Trinity of Heaven
The three Archangels moved in perfect synchronization. They didn't fight like the "Final Four" bullies; they fought like a single organism.
Uriel-3 launched a volley of light-spears from the sky, while Raphael-4 used a localized gravity well to slow Han-Jun's movements. Michael-2 closed the distance, his armored fist glowing with the power of a miniature sun.
Han-Jun took the hit to the chest.
CRACK.
His golden sternum held, but the force sent him through three concrete walls. He coughed up a mixture of red blood and gold fluid.
Analysis: Internal damage 40%. Kinetic shielding: DEPLETED. System Warning: Core Overheat.
"You're fighting for a memory, Han-Jun," Han-Hee's voice whispered in his ear. "The boy who protected me from bullies is gone. You're a King without a kingdom. Let go."
"I'm not... a King," Han-Jun whispered, wiping the gold from his chin. He stood up in the ruins of a café, his eyes burning with a white, cold fire. "I'm the guy who takes the hits. And I'm just getting started."
The Glitch Protocol: Phase 2
Han-Jun didn't charge the Archangels. He closed his eyes and reached out to the Icarus Satellite himself.
He didn't try to hack it. He tried to overload it.
He used his body as a lightning rod, drawing the golden energy out of the air and into his own marrow. The gold veins on his skin began to turn black—the "Burnout State."
"Seol!" Han-Jun yelled to the sky, hoping his brother was still listening in the void. "Redirect the Sector's power output to my coordinates! ALL OF IT!"
"Han-Jun, you'll vaporize!" Han-Seol's voice crackled through the static.
"DO IT! GIVE ME THE CROWN!"
A pillar of pure, blinding gold light descended from the Celestial Sector, hitting Han-Jun directly. The Archangels froze, their sensors blinded by the raw output.
Han-Jun felt his nerves melting, his skin peeling away to reveal a skeleton made of glowing, solidified light. He wasn't Subject Zero anymore. He was the Singularity.
He lunged.
In one microsecond, he struck all three Archangels. He didn't use fists; he used Data-Spikes. He punched his glowing hands directly into their chest plates, injecting a raw, unfiltered stream of his own agonizing memories—the pain of the school, the death of his brother, the hunger of the pit.
The Archangels didn't just break; they suffocated on his humanity. Their high-tech armor turned grey, then crumbled into ash. The "Perfect Machines" were destroyed by the weight of a "Designated Bully's" soul.
Han-Jun stood alone in the smoking plaza, his body flickering like a dying candle. The sky above began to tilt. The Celestial Sector was descending—not to attack, but to land.
The massive golden gates at the base of the floating city opened.
Han-Hee stepped out, her white dress fluttering in the wind. She wasn't alone. Behind her stood hundreds of "New Humans"—citizens of the Sector who had already been fully converted into golden-veined hybrids.
"You destroyed my cleaners," Han-Hee said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "But the 'Great Reset' is already at 99%. The satellite is locked onto every Aegis chip in the world. In sixty seconds, they will all be 'deleted'—unless you kill me, Han-Jun."
She held out a small, golden dagger. The handle was shaped like a Black Rose.