That night at 00:00 hours, I'm standing outside room 14 in the Sub-levels. Just standing, because I'm too nervous to knock. Jai's words are stuck in my head. Hurry up. Hurry up and fall in love with someone I've spoken to all of once.

It's obvious I loved him before; I've followed him through two lifetimes. Even now, I feel so drawn to him, like it's a matter of gravity. What if I fuck this up somehow? What if I get in my own head? I don't want to mess this up for the me I used to be.

Christ, this should be the least of my worries. The scariest thing waiting for me is definitely not a guy with square glasses and persistent bedhead.

I knock on the door. I see someone appear on the other side of the cloudy window. I swipe the keycard and open the door.

"Minho, hey!" His voice instantly brightens once he sees me. "Come in, come in, take a seat — er, they took away my chairs — is the bed okay?"

"Yeah, sure." I sit gingerly on the edge of the bed. "Sorry if I woke you up or something."

"No no, I was awake." He curls up with his legs crossed, facing me. "What's up? Why'd you come down?"

"I... don't know really. Jai — he told me to come see you."

Jisung raises his eyebrows. "He did?"

"We went to find the passcode for your ankle monitor and started talking about... things. Oh, I know the code, I can take it off if you want... though I guess it'd be kinda suspicious if it just disappeared."

"Exactly, I'll leave it on for now." He seems eager to ask, "What did you two talk about?"

"He said something... surprising, actually. Did I break into his house?"

Jisung smiles, seeming relieved. "We did — we had to, though I guess we left a pretty big mess behind us. There was an incident with some cleaning droids... and police officers..."

"Why didn't you say this earlier?"

"Jai was in the room — I couldn't trust him not to tell Oracle. Sorry, that probably makes no sense — God, I've been keeping so much of the story from you. We broke into Jai's home lab because we were conducting an experiment on a sample of your Adrantine. You and me, we had a plan. We were going to destroy all Adrantine."

I look at him, at a loss. All that comes to mind is "Did... did we do it?"

It makes him smile. "Yes. Our plan worked perfectly. I mean, in one way. After we were captured, they brought me here to take care of my bullet wounds and interrogate me, then they had to decide what to do with me. And then Adrantine started shrivelling up and dying. They suspect I'm behind it but have nothing to prove it. I haven't said a word."

"Wait, does that mean I...?" I hold my hands out.

"You'll be fine. Your body was constructed in advance and all pre-existing Adrantine is safe. Everything created with the doctored formula will rot within 12 hours — I mean, depending on the light source and humidity — anyway, the point is, it's sent Oracle into a spiral."

"So when the revolt happens, if all the cyborgs go, Oracle will have nothing?"

"Not necessarily — there's still the matter of the Adrantine androids. Since they don't have sentience, there's no convincing them to walk out. I've been trying to figure out how to hijack their systems, but I haven't studied them closely so it's all hypothetical."

"Haruko said they're at higher risk of critical damage — that must be a good thing."

"It's a great thing. Even if we don't take the androids with us, they'll be wiped out within the decade."

"That's awesome."

We smile. The conversation fizzles. I fold my legs up onto the bed, turning toward him.

"So," I say, "how do they treat you down here?"

"Um." He's running his hand through his hair, absent, only tangling it more. "Well. It's not great, but it's not awful. Two meals a day through that slot in the door, they only interrogate me eight or nine times a week. It's more like solitary confinement than anything."

"But... solitary confinement is torture."

He nods soberly. "Yeah."

"Is there anything I can get you? I mean, I don't have a lot of things, but I could ask around...?"

"No, I couldn't. If I'm caught with something from the outside, it would be... bad. Don't worry, though, I'm coping. I've had a lot of time to... think."

I nod. I'm hesitant to ask what he's been thinking and the conversation dies again. He's looking at me, slowly, like he's taking inventory.

"Should we talk about the plan more?" I ask.

"No," he replies.

"O...kay."

"You used to have a tattoo." He pokes me just below my collarbone. "I can't believe they removed it."

"What did it look like?"

He pulls the collar of his shirt down, uncovering a lock drawn in dark blue ink. "You had the key. We got them a couple years ago on our anniversary. We were drunk, should've been asleep, but we passed a tattoo parlour and couldn't help ourselves."

I put my hand on my chest, feeling the rough skin. It's an understatement to say I wish I could remember that night. A few years ago, I was happy, celebrating, reckless and in love — now my entire life is confined within these walls, defined by who I'm not, who had to die so I could live.

"I would draw it for you, but I don't have a pen," he says. "You know, no sharp objects."

"Right... Jisung, this might be a weird question, but what have you been thinking about?"

He considers his answer, lacing his hands together. "Just... everything. Everything I've ever said, done, believed... loved, hated, cried over, fought for... it's like my life has been flashing before my eyes for weeks. I feel like I should have gone crazy a dozen times over by now."

"What kept you sane?"

"Thinking about the future. Convincing myself that I could have a future, that it could be a happy one. But mostly thinking about you."

"Oh."

"I didn't know where you were or if you remembered me — they wouldn't even tell me if you were alive. But I promised myself, if I was lucky enough to see you again, I'd love you no matter who you were."

I look into his eyes. That love, I see it, I feel it. I'm a little overwhelmed.

I look down at my hands, swallowing. "I was... so nervous. To come here and see you. I'm still nervous. I know what we meant to each other, but I don't think I... feel that way yet..."

He reaches out, holds my hand. "It's okay. You don't have to love me, Minho. Now or ever. I just want you to know that you will always have me. Always."

He's about to take his hand away — I hold it tighter. "But... I want to be around you. I feel like I need to be."

"Oh. Okay." He smiles. "I won't lie, that makes me really happy."

"Then I'm happy you're happy. Can I stay a little longer?"

He squeezes my hand. "Stay as long as you like."