CHAPTER 188: CHAPTER 188: THE CALL OF THE ABYSS

The platform shook as if the entire world beneath them was waking up. Machinery whined, metal teeth clashed together, and the crimson glow of the abyss pulsed like a beating heart. That colossal eye remained fixed on Lin, its gaze unblinking, its light slicing straight through the marrow of his bones.

"Designation: Lin."

The words thundered again, not just echoing through the chamber, but vibrating inside his skull. Lin clutched his head, his breathing sharp and ragged. His body wasn’t responding the way he wanted. His muscles locked, his pulse raced out of rhythm, and his mind fractured under the weight of memories that weren’t entirely his.

Needles. Restraints. White light flooding vision.

Hands pressing him down, voices cold, clinical.

Jin’s scream—then silence.

Jin’s laughter cracked through the memory.

"They carved you out of me. Or maybe they carved me out of you. Doesn’t matter. Either way, we’re pieces of the same puzzle."

"No!" Lin’s voice ripped out of his throat, hoarse and raw. His hands slammed the platform floor, metal denting under the force. "I’m not you!"

The abyss pulsed again, the eye narrowing as if studying him, cataloguing him.

Keller knelt beside him, one arm gripping Lin’s shoulder, trying to anchor him. "Listen to me, you don’t have to answer it! You’re not their machine—you’re not their damn property!"

But Lin couldn’t hear Keller’s words over the flood of whispers rising from the abyss. Dozens of voices now, layered atop one another, some mechanical, some human, all repeating his name.

Lin. Lin. Lin.

Min-joon huddled against the railing, hands pressed to his ears, tears streaking down his dirt-smeared cheeks. His lips moved silently, begging for it all to stop.

Keller’s jaw tightened. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the stolen drive, its casing scratched and dented but still intact. "Lin! You want the truth?" His voice cut sharp through the chaos. "Then listen! I saw the files. Just enough before the purge."

Lin’s eyes snapped toward him, crimson flickering in their depths.

Keller gritted his teeth. "You weren’t just on their list—you were their blueprint. The experiments, the hybridization—they weren’t just building weapons. They were building you."

Lin’s body froze.

The abyss pulsed brighter, as if confirming Keller’s words.

"You’re telling me," Keller pressed, forcing the words out fast before Lin collapsed further, "that every abomination we’ve seen, every half-human, half-machine, every sentinel—they all came from you. From your template."

The words sank like daggers.

Min-joon’s breath hitched. He shook his head violently. "No. No, that’s not true. Lin’s not—he’s not like them!"

Keller’s voice broke softer, but firm. "He’s not. Because he fought it. Because he wasn’t supposed to survive outside of here—but he did. He tore himself away from this place."

Lin staggered to his feet, legs trembling, fists clenched. His chest heaved, every breath a battle. "You’re saying... I’m their mistake."

Keller shook his head. "No. You’re their failure. And that’s what makes you dangerous to them."

Jin’s laughter sharpened in Lin’s skull, but it no longer drowned everything else.

"See? You’re no hero. You’re a broken prototype. You and I—we were never meant to be free."

Lin slammed his fist into the railing, metal screeching as it bent under the force. He glared down into the abyss, voice shaking but loud. "If they built me, then they’ll learn what their creation does when it turns against them."

The abyss eye contracted, then widened, the entire chamber trembling. The platform split at the edges, metal grinding as new shapes rose from below.

Sentinels. But not like the ones before.

These were taller, their limbs sleeker, their bodies interlaced with sinew and steel. Their faces were blank except for a single glowing slit across where eyes should be. The hum of their cores resonated with the abyss, every step syncing with its pulse.

Min-joon’s scream cracked the air. "Not again—please, not again!"

Keller dragged the boy back, drawing his weapon in one hand. "Lin!"

Lin didn’t answer. He stepped forward, his body trembling, every vein burning as if the abyss itself was trying to pull him apart. His crimson-flickering eyes locked on the advancing sentinels.

Then he let go.

The power ripped through him like wildfire, surging from his core, shattering the crimson chains the abyss tried to bind him with. His aura burst outward, a violent storm of heat and shadow, slamming into the platform walls. Sparks exploded. Metal cracked.

The sentinels staggered but kept advancing.

Lin’s lips curled back in a snarl. "Come then. Let’s see what happens when you fight the thing you created."

The first sentinel lunged. Lin met it head-on, his arm catching its blade mid-swing. Sparks exploded as steel screeched against his flesh, his strength overwhelming the construct. With a roar, he twisted and hurled it into the abyss.

The second sentinel struck from behind. Lin spun, crimson flaring in his eyes, and slammed his elbow backward. The impact caved in the sentinel’s chest, wires sparking and fluids spraying as it collapsed in a heap.

But the others closed in fast—four, five, six of them, moving with uncanny synchronization.

Lin fought like a storm unleashed, but every strike, every roar carried not just rage, but desperation. Because with every pulse of the abyss, he felt it clawing at him, dragging him closer to losing himself. His fists struck, his aura tore through steel, but his veins burned hotter, his mind slipped further.

Keller fired into the melee, his bullets sparking against sentinel armor, buying Lin seconds at a time. "Don’t let it take you, Lin! You hear me? Don’t!"

Min-joon’s sobs filled the background, but through them, his voice cracked out, high and desperate. "Lin! You’re not them! You’re you! Don’t let it win!"

Those words—fragile, trembling—cut deeper than Keller’s shouts.

Lin staggered mid-strike, his eyes flickering between crimson and black. His breath shuddered.

Not them. Not a machine. Not a prototype.

He gritted his teeth, forcing the crimson back, even as the abyss screamed his name again. His aura faltered for a heartbeat, then steadied, focused—not wild, but sharpened like a blade.

He struck again, but this time with control. His fist tore through a sentinel’s chest, pulling out its glowing core and crushing it in his hand. The others hesitated, their synchronization stuttering, as if confused by his resistance.

The abyss pulsed harder, furious, the eye narrowing in rage.

Jin’s laughter fell silent. For the first time, he didn’t sound mocking. He sounded almost... unsettled.

"You shouldn’t be able to fight it. Not like this."

Lin spat blood onto the platform and lifted his gaze to the abyss. His voice was hoarse, but steady. "Then maybe I’m not your mistake. Maybe I’m your end."

The chamber roared in fury, the abyss pulsing like a wounded beast.

And in the silence that followed, Keller muttered under his breath, almost reverent: "God help us all."