Rain fell.
Cold droplets splattered onto his thin coat, washing away the sins of empty streets.
Khả Vũ stood in front of an abandoned train station,
a cup of cold coffee in his hand,
his eyes fixed on a long-dead digital screen.
"I always knew someone would find me."
"I just didn't expect it to be you."
The voice came from behind.
An Thư stepped out of the mist —
no longer sorrowful, her eyes sharper, firmer.
But behind them still lingered a quiet ache.
"I've read everything about the original code."
"You're the only one who can stop it."
Khả Vũ didn't turn around.
"I'm not stopping anything.
I just refuse to share the same stage with them."
"And if one day they turn the system into a weapon?"
"Then I'll stand where it explodes."
An Thư moved to stand beside him.
"I'm not here to change your mind."
"I'm here… so I won't be on the other side anymore."
He closed his eyes.
A sigh — soft, nearly invisible.
A flicker of something…
then nothing.
"You'll die."
"Then I'll die with you…
better that than living blind."
A sniper's shot rang out.
The bullet struck a pole inches from them.
Blood splattered — but not from An Thư, not from Khả Vũ.
A shadow retreated in the distance.
Khả Vũ murmured:
"They've started…"
"And this… is where the real game begins."