Charlotte had gone back to her home country to attend the funeral of her twin sister—but she never returned. No, more precisely, she couldn’t return.
“Such a heartbreaking loss. We will forever remember the noble sacrifice of our dear friends Claire, Charlotte, and Jacob.”
Even under the cloudless, sunny sky, Lee Han-seo’s mood was gray and heavy. He sat in a daze, tracing the patterns on the carpet with his eyes. On the TV, left on for background noise, the anchor’s polished voice continued relaying the tragic story that had dominated the news cycle for days.
The live broadcast faded out, transitioning to a pre-recorded segment.
An old home video played: young Claire and Charlotte, carefree and giggling as they rolled around on the grass. The footage switched to photos of the sisters, a little older now, arms linked and messily devouring sandwiches at a training center. The images flickered across the screen at just the right rhythm to stir up emotions. In the middle of that nostalgic montage, a man with dark skin appeared—Jacob, Claire’s Bonded Pair Esper.
Claire had been injured in the blink of an eye. While Jacob was helping civilians escape the dungeon, a monster—one that hadn’t quite died—suddenly lunged at her. They called in every Healing Esper and renowned doctor they could find, but with severe brainstem damage, Claire remained in a coma for six months before finally passing away.
It was no surprise that Jacob, an S-Class Esper already tormented by guilt for failing to protect his Guide, eventually lost control.
On the day of Claire’s funeral, Jacob went into a Rampage. Charlotte, who had returned home just to lay her sister to rest, tried to stop him—and ended up following Claire in death.
Fortunately, Charlotte’s swift intervention saved lives. While several Espers were injured in the chaos, not a single death was reported. For a Rampage caused by an S-Class Esper—one powerful enough to level a city—that outcome was shockingly tame.
News outlets worldwide were quick to call it a miracle. Had Charlotte failed to contain Jacob, he would’ve gone down not as a tragic victim, but as a mass-murdering criminal responsible for unimaginable destruction.
Still, no one could say whether the authorities—suddenly down two S-Class Espers and one S-Class Guide—felt the same way.
The UK’s Esper Affairs Department, prioritizing domestic dungeon control above all else, decided to recall every Esper and Guide it had dispatched to the International Alliance. Whether it was a U-Class Dungeon forming on home soil or an S-Class Dungeon they couldn’t control overseas, the result was the same: national collapse. There would be no more cooperative deployments—no diplomacy, no negotiation.
The Alliance publicly expressed deep regret and formally asked the UK to reconsider, but the request went ignored. Britain’s stance was so firm it looked ready to withdraw from the Alliance entirely.
Tension rippled through the whole organization—and even the U-Class Response Team, which had been riding high on optimism just weeks earlier, suddenly felt unsettled.
But what truly disturbed people was the reaction of Ronnie—Charlotte’s Bonded Pair Guide.
Ronnie and Charlotte had worked side by side for years. It wasn’t until three years ago that their Matching Rate finally stabilized enough to form an Imprint. They were unmistakably close. More than colleagues or loyal friends—they loved each other.
And yet, when Ronnie heard about Charlotte’s death, she only commented that something felt “off”… and then quickly made plans to return to the UK with the other British Espers. At a small farewell gathering held by the Guides of the Response Team, she even shrugged and said she’d better start looking for a new Pair.
The grief she showed was just right for a co-worker’s sudden passing—neither excessive nor lacking. But for someone who had just lost her lover, it felt… oddly subdued.
Was she pretending to be fine? Or was she genuinely okay?
No one could say for sure—but Lee Han-seo and the other Guides had a gut feeling. It was the latter.
“We were bonded because of Matching Rate, that’s all. Honestly? I feel a bit lighter now. Back in the UK, those three S-Class people—Charlotte, Jacob, and Claire—they were treated like untouchable heroes. I lost count of how many times I was told to stop getting too chummy with them, especially since I wasn’t even S-Class like Claire. Maybe thinking this way makes me a terrible person… but it’s the truth.”
Ronnie, who now seemed strangely at ease, confessed that before the Imprint was severed, it was like she’d been under some kind of spell—like protecting Charlotte had been the only thing that mattered. Now, she said, she finally felt like herself again. And with that, she left the Response Team for good.
Most of the Guides on the team were Imprinted with their Pairs—including Lee Han-seo.
After Ronnie’s departure, no one mentioned the metaphorical stone she’d thrown into their still waters. But the quiet was only surface-deep.
Both pairs—Claire and Jacob, Charlotte and Ronnie—had their Imprints broken by death. Jacob had been unable to survive the loss and descended into a Rampage. Ronnie, on the other hand, said she finally felt free—like she’d reclaimed her true self.
Lee Han-seo couldn’t say for certain where he stood. Was he like Jacob… or like Ronnie? That uncertainty left a cold chill creeping down his spine.
He did love Park Woo-jun. That much was true. The powerful pull he’d felt the first time they met had been real, undeniable.
But it was also true that this all-consuming, overwhelming love had only started after the Imprint was formed.
If his pre-Imprint self had been asked to choose—not between Ryu Ho-yeon and Park Woo-jun, but between Park Woo-jun and leaving the Center altogether—what answer would he have given?
Even now, Lee Han-seo didn’t know.
Even if this love—so fierce it feels worth dying for—turned out to be a lie, it wouldn’t change a thing. Because a convincing lie, if never exposed, is no different from the truth. As long as Lee Han-seo remained Park Woo-jun’s Bonded Pair, and neither of them suffered some tragic accident or had their Imprint broken, their life together would go on just as it always had. And yet, his head was spinning with doubt for no reason.
Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.
The TV still buzzed with background noise, but Han-seo was too deep in thought to notice. His preset alarm blared—loud and clear. It was time to guide Julian.
Charlotte was gone, and the British Espers had returned home. But the U-Class Dungeon didn’t care about human grief. It wouldn’t wait. The next mission was already scheduled for about a month from now. An S-Class Esper from Egypt, who had been tapped to fill Charlotte’s spot on the team, would join them at headquarters as soon as he finished clearing his current dungeon.
Even in mourning, training couldn’t stop. And Han-seo still had to guide both Espers. In that kind of world, one person’s inner turmoil didn’t even amount to dust floating in the void.
He forced his heavy body out of bed and stepped into the hallway—only to run right into Park Woo-jun, who was just coming back from personal training.
“…Where are you going?”
Woo-jun asked quietly, his voice gentle and uncertain. For some reason, Han-seo couldn’t bring himself to meet those round, soft eyes. He tilted his head away and muttered, “To guide Julian.”
“Ah.”
“……”
It was hard to brush off as nothing—Woo-jun’s expression went stiff. It didn’t seem like he was upset about Julian. No, it felt more like he couldn’t handle how distant Han-seo had become.
“Han-seo… did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong? What do you mean? Of course not.”
“But lately… you…”
“……”
“……”
You’ve been different.
Woo-jun couldn’t bring himself to say it.
I love you, I really do… but I don’t know if this is how I truly feel.
And Han-seo couldn’t bring himself to admit it.
The fear of what they might hear in return kept them both silent, and so, once again, they let the moment pass in silence.
When Han-seo returned after guiding Julian, Woo-jun was already lying in bed with his eyes closed. Maybe it was because he’d gotten through puberty without much drama—but now, this late-blooming emotional confusion hit like a storm. Restless and stirred up, Han-seo instinctively crawled into Woo-jun’s arms. Whether he was asleep or just pretending, Woo-jun pulled him close without a word.
Wrapped in that familiar warmth, Han-seo slowly began to organize his thoughts.
Yeah… a week is more than enough time to spiral into doubt. So what if it’s real or not? It’s not like our Imprint is going to break.
But as if to mock that fragile resolve—
The very next afternoon, the Alliance headquarters was rocked once again by a piece of news so shocking it left everyone reeling.
