But Ja-young looks past Temuulen—to the second convoy. This one flies no flag. And in the lead vehicle sits a man with no shadow.
But the real horror arrives at dawn.
She doesn't kill them. She rearranges them—bones, bullets, and radios fused into the frozen ground. Bat watches, horrified and awed.
“You broke the first rule,” Temuulen says, her voice calm as a frozen lake. “We are not supposed to remember.”
She seeks refuge in a crumbling butcher’s shop run by , a cynical former Mongolian special forces soldier. He doesn’t ask who she is. He sees the emptiness in her eyes and recognizes it: the look of a weapon trying not to fire.
“The world made us witches,” Temuulen whispers, cupping Ja-young’s face with ice-cold fingers. “Let’s make them fear magic again.”
After the destruction of the Ark lab, the sole surviving subject—a girl with unimaginable psychic power—wanders into the lawless, frozen wasteland of the Mongol Heleer borderlands. There, she discovers she is not the only "witch" the program created, and a far more ancient, terrifying force is hunting her.
Temuulen doesn’t want to kill Ja-young. She wants to merge with her.
Then, every light in Heleer explodes.
Ja-young’s escape leads her to —a brutal, wind-scoured settlement of exiles, smugglers, and former intelligence operatives who have "died" on paper. Here, the law is a ghost, and the only currency is silence.
A CIA analyst in a vault watches satellite footage of the entire Heleer region turn into a perfect, two-kilometer-wide circle of glass. He picks up a red phone.
The first wave comes at midnight. Twelve armed mercenaries. Ja-young doesn’t move. A can of beans rolls off a shelf.
“They called me a witch. But a witch is just a girl who survived the fire. In Mongol Heleer… the fire is just getting started.”
A figure walks out of the snowstorm. No coat. No weapon. A young woman with braided black hair and scars carved into her palms like ancient runes. Her name is (Cover Name: Subject 00 ).
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