The Thought Converter screamed.
[CRITICAL ALERT] Emotional Anchor: Yoon Haejin – Severed.
Moneytory’s heart stopped.
For a moment, the entire world fell silent.
No breath.
No pulse.
Nothing.
Only one word burned through him.
"No."
The coordinates flashed across his device.
She was being dragged into the mirror world—
the world of order, silence, and sterilized perfection.
His own world of emotions cracked under his boots as he ran.
Every step shattering the fragile balance he had fought to protect.
He saw them—
agents in white armor, emotionless, mechanical—
closing around her.
Haejin didn’t scream.
She didn’t struggle.
She simply turned—
and smiled, sad and beautiful—
right at him.
"It’s okay," she mouthed.
"You have to keep going."
And then she vanished into the light.
Moneytory collapsed to his knees.
Hands trembling.
Breath ragged.
He had failed again.
Just like before.
Just like when he let her hand slip away all those years ago.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
But then—
He remembered.
The feel of her fingers brushing his.
The warmth of her laugh.
The weight of the memory orb she had held against her chest.
He stood up.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Eyes burning.
"Not this time."
The world he entered was blinding white.
Skyscrapers without windows.
Cities without sound.
Faces without smiles.
The perfect prison.
At the center:
the Fortress of Thought.
Where Haejin’s soul was being rewritten.
Moneytory fought every step.
His memories—stolen.
His emotions—stripped away.
With each step forward, he forgot a little more.
Forgot her voice.
Forgot her smile.
Forgot his own name.
Until—
A whisper.
"You're warm."
A flicker.
A crack through the void.
He clutched at it—
a single, burning thread of memory.
Haejin.
Her hand in his.
And he roared.
The Thought Converter on his wrist blazed gold.
Emotions—pure, wild, and unfiltered—exploded outward.
They tore through the fortress like wildfire.
He reached the core.
There she was.
Strapped into a machine of glass and light,
eyes empty, heart muted.
The Mirror Moneytory waited beside her.
"You can’t save her," he said calmly.
"You can’t save yourself."
Moneytory said nothing.
He didn’t need to.
He stepped forward.
Every fear.
Every failure.
Every regret.
He let it all fuel him.
The Mirror threw perfect visions at him:
A life where he was rich.
A life where he was respected.
A life without pain.
Moneytory crushed them all.
Because a life without her—
without emotion—
was no life at all.
He reached the throne.
Tore the restraints apart with pure will.
Caught her as she fell.
Held her close.
For a terrible moment, she didn’t move.
And then—
her hand, weak but sure, closed around his wrist.
"You really came," she whispered.
Tears blurred his vision.
"I always will," he choked out.
The Fortress crumbled around them.
They ran—
hand in hand—
through a world collapsing into dust.
And this time,
he never let go.
Outside, under a fractured sky,
they stopped.
Breathless.
Alive.
Together.
She leaned against him.
"You didn’t run away this time."
He smiled.
"No.
And I never will again."
To be continued...