The shift back to the real world was jarring, as it always was after hours in NexaRealm. One moment, Joon-ho was sitting amidst the falling snow of Ebonveil Highlands; the next, he was in his dimly lit room, blinking at the familiar mess that surrounded him. The hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound, save for the muffled clicks from Kang-dae's mouse.
It took him a second to process that it was over—the bizarre reunion, the ambush, the sudden disappearance of Jin-ho. As strange as it felt, it all happened. And now, he was back, as if none of it had occurred.
Across the room, Kang-dae was fixed out on his table seat, deep into whatever news he was playing, his face illuminated by the white glow of the monitor screen. Nearby, Kyu sat at his desk, headphones on, scrolling through his phone. Neither of them knew what Joon-ho had just gone through, nor had they been informed. To them, it was just another evening.
As Joon-ho closed the door behind him with a quiet click, Kang-dae noticed. He glanced up from his game with an easy grin.
"Hye, roaming around in NexaRealm or something?" Kang-dae asked, letting go of his mouse and turning towards Joon-ho. He spoke casually, the same way he always did, like nothing in the world could shake him.
Joon-ho hesitated for a split second before nodding.
"Yeah. Something like that."
Kang-dae's eyes flicked back to his game. It wasn't an interrogation—just an offhand comment, nothing more. And yet, Joon-ho could feel the weight of what he wasn't saying.
Because how could he tell them the truth? That he'd just met with Jin-ho—their long-vanished friend—and that it was under classified circumstances, sanctioned by the founders of NexaRealm themselves? How could he explain the ambush, the confrontation, and the surreal reunion that ended with the promise of a real-world meeting?
No, this wasn't something they could know, not yet. If Kang-dae didn't believe him, Director Hye-su herself could confirm it, but that wouldn't make it easier to explain.
Joon-ho sat down heavily on his bed, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him. His mind was still spinning from everything that had unfolded, but here he was, back in the real world, with nothing to show for it except a few lingering thoughts and the creeping exhaustion that followed.
Kyu glanced up briefly, his eyes barely leaving his phone.
"Tired?" Kang-dae continued to ask, not in a concerted way.
"Yeah," Joon-ho murmured. "Just... tired."
"Figures," Kang-dae said, back to his current news browsing. "You always look tired after playing that game. Maybe you should, I don't know, touch some grass sometime."
He smirked without looking away from the screen. The sarcasm applied to them all. They are all avid players, and they all represent Korea now.
Joon-ho couldn't help but chuckle, though it felt strange to laugh after everything that had happened. Kang-dae's carefree attitude was grounding, even if the weight of what Joon-ho was keeping from him threatened to drag him down.
He flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind replayed the events in NexaRealm—Jin-ho's sudden appearance, the cryptic reunion, and the strange relief that followed the tension. What had they even accomplished? He didn't know.
And yet, it was done.
Now, all he could do was wait—wait for the next move from Director Hye-su and Secretary Hae-won, wait to see if Jin-ho would follow through on his word, and wait to figure out what the hell came next.
For now, though, he was back to the mundane reality of his dorm room, surrounded by friends who had no idea what he'd just been through. And maybe, for tonight, that was okay.
In the sleek, glass-walled main office of NexaCorp, Director Hye-su leaned back in her chair, pulling the Realm device off her head with a sharp exhale. Beside her, Hae-won did the same, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The hum of the room's ambient lighting filled the quiet between them. It was strange how jarring the transition from the digital world to reality could be—as if all that had happened in Ebonveil Highlands were just a dream, though it weighed too heavily to be one.
Hye-su rubbed her temple, the faint glow from the cityscape outside casting shadows over her sharp features.
"What a mess," she muttered, half to herself. "Jin-ho. Of all people..."
Hae-won offered a soft hum of agreement, folding her arms as she glanced toward the window. She knew better than anyone that this wasn't just a random reconnection—it was complicated, entangled with years of conflict, hurt, and misunderstandings.
After a brief silence, Hye-su spoke again, her voice brisk and efficient as always.
"Clear my schedule for tomorrow, would you? We're meeting him."
Hae-won nodded.
"Already on it," she tapped a few buttons on her tablet, rearranging appointments with smooth precision. Efficiency was her forte, even amidst strange situations like this.
"Good." Hye-su exhaled through her nose, staring down at her desk where a virtual meeting agenda still hovered in holographic form. "We can't waste time. If we wait too long, he'll slip away again. I know it."
The name Jin-ho hung in the air between them—heavy and personal, far more than a name from the past.
"You think he'll actually show?" Hae-won asked quietly, glancing at Hye-su from the corner of her eye.
Hye-su scoffed, though not unkindly.
"He'd better." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "If he's serious about facing us, he won't keep playing these games."
A pause, then a soft snort of amusement.
"Though, it is Jin-ho. He probably will—at least a little."
The two women shared a rare moment of understanding, their guarded exteriors slipping just enough to reveal the bittersweet humour beneath.
"Still the same old Jin-ho," Hae-won murmured, more to herself. "Even after all this time."
Hye-su nodded slowly, as if reluctantly agreeing.
"He never changes. Always slipping through the cracks, always one step ahead. But... it was good to see him, wasn't it? Even if he pissed me off."
"Yeah. It was," Hae-won smiled faintly, something soft lingering in her expression.
They lapsed into silence again, each lost in their thoughts. The office felt colder somehow—emptier—now that they were no longer connected to the vibrant, chaotic world of NexaRealm.
"Do you think he's still the same?" Hae-won asked after a while, her voice gentle, almost hesitant. "Deep down, I mean."
Hye-su tilted her head slightly, considering the question.
"I don't know," she admitted. "He's always been good at keeping people out. Even back then."
She drummed her fingers on the desk, a restless habit she rarely indulged.
"But... I think maybe he's trying. Reaching out. In his own... stupid, roundabout way."
"That sounds like him," a small chuckle escaped Hae-won.
Hye-su smirked, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Yeah. It does."
For a moment, it felt as if they were back in those early days—the three of them inseparable, full of ambition and ideas, before things became complicated. Before Jin-ho disappeared, leaving behind unanswered questions and unresolved tension.
But now, it was different. They weren't the same people they used to be. They had responsibilities, a company to run, and wounds that hadn't fully healed. Meeting him again wasn't just about rekindling a friendship—it was about confronting the past and figuring out what came next.
Hye-su exhaled, breaking the silence.
"Well, we'll know soon enough. Tomorrow, we'll see if he's serious or just screwing with us again."
Hae-won gave a slight nod.
"I'll make sure everything's ready."
As Hae-won turned back to her tablet, Hye-su allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability, her gaze lingering on the faint reflection of herself in the glass wall.
"It's been a long time," she murmured, almost to herself. Too long.
Hae-won glanced up from her tablet, sensing the weight in Hye-su's words but knowing better than to comment on it. Some things didn't need to be said aloud—not between them. Instead, she offered a small, reassuring smile.
"We'll handle it, Hye-su. Like always."
Hye-su gave a slight nod, her fingers still drumming absently on the desk.
"Yeah... We will." She sat back in her chair, exhaling one last time as if trying to release the tension that had built up from the encounter with Jin-ho. "Make sure the car is ready early. I don't want to waste time tomorrow."
"Already arranged." Hae-won's efficiency was as sharp as ever, her fingers gliding over the tablet's surface. "We'll leave at first light. I'll confirm the address with navigation tonight."
Hye-su gave a short, approving hum.
"Good." She stared at the office ceiling for a moment before muttering, "It'll be weird seeing him in person. After everything."
"Yeah," Hae-won agreed quietly. "But it's time."
The two shared one last glance—a flicker of shared determination—and then rose from their seats. There was no turning back now. Tomorrow, they would confront the man who had once been their closest friend—and finally begin untangling the threads of their fractured past.