Dungeon Seoul

The debrief room always smelled faintly of burnt coffee and ozone.

A long screen on the far wall replayed the simulation footage in looping clips: Jinho spinning Pan like a baseball bat, Keiji's perfect strikes, Étienne's dramatic parries… and, of course, the glitched monstrosity tearing through the arena.

Jinho slouched in a chair far too comfortable for his nerves.

Pan floated above the table like a smug halo.

"WE WON."

"That's not the point," Riyeon said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she rewound the footage again. "You triggered two unplanned fusions, a structural instability, and—" she jabbed a finger at the screen "—that thing."

Jinho rubbed the back of his neck. "In my defense, I didn't mean to."

"You never mean to," Mirae said calmly from the head of the table. Her tone could slice steel. "Yet the Administrator Layer continues to react to you."

On screen, Jinho's Patch Slam sent error particles scattering like snow.

In the back row, several Tiger Gate analysts murmured nervously.

Gong Seokjin, the strange admin who claimed he could hear dungeon cores, tapped his pen against a folder. "Notice the glyph pattern here." He pointed to a freeze-frame of the entity's collapse. "That's the same signature we pulled from Rift #117 last month. The one that whispered your name, Specialist Kang."

Jinho raised a hand. "Can I request they stop whispering my name?"

Seokjin's eyes twinkled with unsettling amusement. "You could try asking."

"WE CAN ASK," Pan offered.

"BUT THEY RARELY LISTEN."

Mirae shifted the conversation to a holochart of guild affiliations. "Due to today's… viral incident, we're expecting increased scrutiny. Every international rep on the observation deck is sending reports as we speak."

"Wait," Jinho said, "that whole thing was live‑streamed too?"

"Of course," Mirae replied. "Transparency builds trust."

Chat archive scrolling across the holo-screen.

Chat: PATCH NOTE OPPA MVP AGAIN!!

Chat: THE PAN IS MY RELIGION

Chat: silvercore who?? tiger gate best guild!!

Jinho groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to be a meme forever."

"A GLORIOUS MEME," Pan corrected. "IMMORTAL."

A woman from Tiger Gate's HR department entered, balancing a tray of tea.

She placed a steaming cup before Jinho. "Here you go, Specialist. Chamomile. For… calming effects."

Pan leaned over the cup.

"THIS IS NOT TEA.

THIS IS A SEDATIVE DISGUISED AS GRASS WATER."

The HR woman's smile froze. Mirae sighed.

"Pan," Mirae said, "let her do her job."

"HER JOB IS SUSPICIOUS."

Riyeon kicked Jinho's boot lightly under the table. "Control your weapon."

"I'm trying!" Jinho hissed. "It's like babysitting a karaoke machine with opinions!"

The lights flickered suddenly. Everyone froze.

A faint chime rang in Jinho's ears.

[ADMINISTRATOR LAYER MESSAGE DETECTED]

[—//—//—]

Bearer detected. Patch incomplete. Return to Source.

[—//—//—]

Jinho's breath caught. He glanced around, but no one else reacted except Pan, whose glow pulsed erratically.

"I HEARD IT TOO."

Seokjin leaned forward, eyes sharp. "What did it say?"

Jinho swallowed. "Uh… something about a patch being incomplete. And… returning to the Source."

Mirae exchanged a look with Riyeon, one Jinho didn't like. "That matches the data from Rift #64," Mirae said quietly. "The one we've sealed under the mountains."

Riyeon frowned. "The Hollow Atrium?"

"No," Seokjin murmured, "deeper. The old one."

Mirae straightened, all business again. "Specialist Kang, you're not in trouble. Yet."

"Yet?"

"You're too valuable to lose, and too dangerous to ignore." She gestured to the analysts. "Effective immediately, you're on supervised missions only. Your powers are under observation, and Pan—" she glanced at the floating utensil—"is to remain within HQ unless cleared."

"I GO WHERE I PLEASE," Pan said loftily.

"No, you don't," Mirae replied with a smile that could terrify gods.

As the meeting adjourned, Jinho hung back, staring at the dark screen. "Director… am I dangerous?"

Mirae paused at the door. Her expression softened. "You're unpredictable. That's different."

"Feels the same to me."

She considered that, then said, "The world isn't built for people like you, Jinho. But it might have to be rebuilt anyway. Get some rest."

Pan floated beside him.

"WE ARE NOT DANGEROUS.

WE ARE A PATCH.

THEY SHOULD THANK US."

Jinho sighed. "They don't look thankful."

"THEY WILL.

AFTER THE NEXT STORM."

Down in the cafeteria, Jinho slumped over a bowl of noodles, stirring aimlessly.

Riyeon dropped into the seat opposite him. "You okay?"

"I think I'm one system crash away from being locked in a vault."

"Cheer up. You're famous now." She slurped her noodles. "Kids in the guild are making fanart of you and the pan."

"Fanart?"

Pan perked up.

"SHOW ME."

Riyeon held up her tablet. On the screen was a chibi drawing. Jinho swinging Pan like Thor's hammer, sparks everywhere. A caption read PATCH NOTE OPPA 💙.

Jinho buried his face in his hands again. "I'm doomed."

"NO," Pan intoned proudly. "YOU ARE IMMORTALIZED."

A sudden klaxon wailed through the cafeteria.

Everyone froze. Red lights blinked in rhythmic pulses along the ceiling.

> ALERT: UNSTABLE RIFT DETECTED – SEOUL SECTOR 3

UNAUTHORIZED SIGNATURE: ADMINISTRATOR LAYER FLUCTUATION

Riyeon bolted upright, noodles forgotten. "That's… near the Han River."

Jinho felt Pan stiffen in the air, its glow flickering between soft blue and violent orange.

"I HEAR IT.

I HEAR… THEM."

Jinho's spoon slipped from his fingers. "Pan… what do you mean them?"

The pan spun in a slow, unnatural circle, voice layered and echoing with something else, a second voice, hollow and ancient, bleeding through.

"RETURN… SOURCE… RETURN…"

Jinho grabbed Pan instinctively, shaking it. "Pan! Snap out of it!"

"…THEY ARE COMING."

The cafeteria doors slammed open. Mirae strode in, phone pressed to her ear, coat swinging like a war banner. Behind her, Gong Seokjin trailed with a tablet covered in scrolling glyphs, his expression grim.

"Specialist Kang," Mirae said sharply, locking eyes with him, "you're with me. Now."

Jinho stared at her, at Pan's trembling glow, and then at the flashing alert overhead.

"You're sending me out again? After all that?"

Mirae's eyes narrowed, equal parts command and concern. "This isn't optional. That rift is spiking exactly the same signature we saw in your simulation. And if we don't move now—"

She didn't finish. She didn't have to. Everyone could feel the danger in the air, the pulse of something far older and stranger than a simple dungeon outbreak.

Pan whispered in a low, reverberating tone.

"THE SOURCE WAITS."

Jinho's stomach dropped.

"…Great. Just great."

He pushed back from the table, stood up, and followed Mirae toward whatever came next, heart hammering, pan humming like a storm about to break.