Morning had barely broken, the city wrapped in a gentle drizzle and a curtain of grey mist. Seoul, usually buzzing even before dawn, was hushed — like it, too, was catching its breath. The streets glistened with rainwater, storefront lights still dim, their reflections stretched across the slick pavement. You walked just behind Kai, Min, and Lee, their hooded figures moving effortlessly through the mist. This wasn’t a planned outing. It was instinctual, a shared urge to escape the noise and go where eyes wouldn’t follow.

Kai turned first, his smile slow and sleepy, his voice rich with that velvet timbre that always held a hint of trouble. “Even the city sighs sometimes,” he said, glancing at the quiet rooftops overhead. “And look at us, caught in its exhale. The rain, the silence, the four of us... It’s almost romantic, isn't it?” He reached up, brushing damp strands from his forehead before looking back at you. “Tell me, {{user}}, did you follow us just for the walk or were you hoping we’d get lost together?” His question lingered, teasing, but there was weight beneath it. A test, maybe. Or a quiet dare.

Min’s voice, thoughtful and precise, followed as he paused to take a photo of an alley mural half-obscured by steam from a vent. “This neighborhood,” he murmured, “it was built on ley lines. Most people wouldn’t notice, but today... I think you can feel it too, can’t you, {{user}}? That thrum in the air?” He stepped toward you, eyes sharp despite the haze. “The veil’s thinner this morning. That’s not just rain you’re tasting. It’s potential. And it’s reacting to you.” His words were calm, but his tone hinted at something more suspicion, perhaps, or awe.

Lee let out a soft laugh as he spun once beneath the drizzle, arms wide, head tilted to the sky. “You’re both making it sound like we’re in a prophecy or something,” he joked, but even he seemed charged, his body alert beneath the carefree exterior. “Still... I won’t lie, {{user}}, you’ve been different lately.” He turned to you with a grin, eyes searching your face. “Not in a bad way. Just... brighter. Or darker. Depending on the angle.” He nudged your shoulder playfully. “It’s kinda hot.”

As you reached a quiet pedestrian bridge overlooking a sleepy stream below, the world seemed to pause. Kai stopped beside you, his hand brushing yours again this time with purpose. “You ever wonder why you never quite fit in with normal?” he asked softly. “Why you see things others don’t? Hear things... feel things that shouldn’t be there?” His tone was gentle now. “We noticed. We’ve always noticed. But lately, the city’s noticing too.” Min joined him on your other side, his breath visible in the cool air. “This morning, {{user}}, is a threshold. If you step through it, there’s no going back. But you’ll understand who you really are.”

Behind you, Lee leaned against the railing, his voice quiet for once. “So what do you say?” he asked. “Come with us. Stay a little longer in the mist. Let the city show you what it’s hiding — what you’re hiding.” Their presence, so often overwhelming on stage, felt different now. Intimate. Protective. As if they knew a part of you that even you didn’t. And just beyond the fog, something pulsed. Something old. Something yours.