CHAPTER 185: CHAPTER 185: THE GUARDIAN OF THE ABYSS

The chamber was alive with sound. Not the sound of breathing, footsteps, or even machinery—it was the pulse of something massive, something older than the lab’s steel skeleton itself. The colossal bio-mechanical guardian stirred, its form a grotesque marriage of human sinew and engineered plating. Hydraulic veins pulsed like arteries, glowing with crimson light, each beat reverberating through the floor.

Lin stood at the front of the trio, shoulders squared, though his body ached from the last battle. His breathing was measured, but his knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists. Keller’s hand twitched near his gun, though both of them knew bullets would do little against something of this scale. Min-joon staggered back, his mind already unraveling at the sight of the creature that seemed to crawl out of hell itself.

The guardian’s head tilted with an almost human curiosity, then split open vertically, revealing rows of serrated, grinding plates where a mouth should have been. The noise was a metallic scream, sharp and grating, making Min-joon clap his hands over his ears.

Lin’s eyes narrowed. He felt it then—the static in his head, the familiar whisper. Jin’s voice, oily and cruel, slithered through the cracks of his mind.

"Do you see? That’s what you could become if you stop pretending. If you just let go."

Lin shook his head violently, forcing the thought down. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath.

Keller shot him a look but didn’t press. There wasn’t time.

The guardian stepped forward, each movement sending tremors through the ground. The crimson glow spread into the walls, as though the entire chamber was alive and connected to it. The three of them stood at the edge of survival itself, and Lin knew that hesitation meant death.

"Stay behind me," Lin said, voice steady despite the chaos around him. His gaze was fixed on the monstrosity, calculating, waiting.

Keller gave a grim nod. Min-joon tried to move forward, but his knees buckled, and he collapsed against the wall. "I— I can’t..." His voice cracked with terror.

Lin didn’t look back. "Then don’t. Just breathe. Let us handle this."

The guardian lunged.

It didn’t move like something so massive should. It was too fast, its limbs snapping forward like whips, hydraulics hissing as blades unfolded from its arms. Lin pushed Keller out of the way and rolled, the blade slicing through the floor and carving a smoking trench in the steel.

Keller fired three shots in quick succession. The bullets sparked against the guardian’s plating, ricocheting uselessly. The creature didn’t even flinch. Its head turned toward Keller, crimson light intensifying.

"Damn it," Keller hissed.

Lin moved. His body surged with an unnatural strength, muscles coiling with raw energy he didn’t fully control. He grabbed Keller’s arm and pulled him back just as the guardian’s arm lashed out, the blade embedding into the wall with an ear-splitting shriek. Sparks rained over them.

Lin felt the whispers again.

"Use me. Stop fighting what you are. You’ll die here if you don’t accept me."

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. For a split second, Lin’s vision flickered—not the chamber, not Keller, not Min-joon, but rows of cold, sterile training rooms, Jin’s hand gripping his shoulder, the words he’d heard so many times before: "You’re not human. You’re mine."

"No." Lin forced the memory out with a guttural growl, his voice carrying through the cavernous chamber. "I’m not yours."

The guardian’s fist slammed down where he’d been standing a moment before, the shockwave rattling the chamber. Lin darted in close, faster than Keller had ever seen him move, and struck. His fist cracked against the guardian’s armor, denting it slightly. The feedback jolted through his arm, nearly dislocating his shoulder, but the dent was proof—proof the monster could be hurt.

The guardian staggered half a step, then steadied, head twisting to focus on Lin. The crimson glow inside its veins pulsed brighter, like a challenge.

Keller swore under his breath. "You can actually hurt it?"

Lin flexed his hand, ignoring the sharp pain lancing through his knuckles. "Barely." His eyes darkened. "But barely is enough."

The guardian lunged again, faster, adapting. This time it split its arms into multiple blade-like extensions, slashing in arcs that forced Lin to twist, duck, and weave. Each strike was meant to kill. The monster was learning him just as the clone had—but this wasn’t a mirror. This was an abyss, reflecting what he could become if he let Jin win.

Lin roared, channeling everything into a strike that collided with the guardian’s leg joint. The plating cracked, hydraulic fluid spraying out in a burst of steam. The guardian screeched, staggering for the first time.

Keller seized the chance, firing directly into the exposed joint. This time, the bullet embedded deeper, grinding against the machinery inside. The guardian faltered, its balance momentarily compromised.

"Lin!" Keller shouted. "That’s your opening!"

Lin didn’t hesitate. He launched himself upward, slamming his knee into the creature’s torso. The impact crunched, plating cracking under the force. The crimson veins flared like warning lights, the entire chamber vibrating.

But then, mid-air, the whisper came again—louder, insistent.

"Yes. That’s it. Feel it. The strength, the hunger. Stop pretending you’re different. You’re mine, Lin. You always have been."

The voice nearly unbalanced him. His punch faltered, grazing the guardian’s head instead of crushing it. He landed hard, the impact rattling through his bones.

"Lin!" Keller barked, snapping him back to reality.

Lin’s chest heaved. Sweat poured down his temple. He knew the truth: the power that let him fight this monster was the same power Jin had buried inside him. Every time he used it, he slipped closer to that abyss.

But then his eyes darted to Min-joon, trembling on the floor, his face pale with terror. To Keller, weapon useless but still standing firm by his side.

Lin clenched his fists. "I’m not yours," he whispered again, this time to himself as much as to the voice. "I’ll never be yours."

The guardian roared, blades splitting and reconfiguring into a massive pike. It stabbed downward, aiming to impale Lin through the chest.

Lin exhaled once, calm, and stepped in—not back, not aside, but into the strike. His hand shot out, catching the pike mid-thrust. The impact nearly tore his arm from its socket, but he held it. Muscles screamed, bone threatened to snap, yet he held.

And then he twisted.

With a guttural shout that echoed in the chamber, Lin wrenched the pike aside and drove his fist directly into the guardian’s exposed core. The plating shattered under the impact, crimson light spilling like blood. The guardian convulsed, mechanical screams filling the chamber, its limbs thrashing wildly.

Keller grabbed Min-joon and dragged him back as sparks and hydraulic fluid rained down. Lin didn’t move. He pushed harder, deeper, forcing the strength through his body even as it tore at his insides. The guardian buckled, collapsed, and finally crashed to the ground, its crimson glow flickering out like a dying heartbeat.

Silence followed.

Lin stood in the aftermath, chest heaving, his hand dripping with blackened fluid. His body trembled, not just from exhaustion, but from the war raging inside his mind.

Keller’s voice broke the silence. "You... killed it."

Lin didn’t answer. He was staring at his hand, still shaking, as if the whispers might crawl out of his skin.

Behind him, Min-joon finally let out a sob, the sound raw and broken. Keller put a hand on his shoulder, but his eyes never left Lin.

Lin turned slowly, his gaze shadowed. "It’s not over," he said hoarsely. "That... was just the beginning."

And somewhere deep within his skull, Jin’s voice chuckled.

"Good. You’re learning."