Hana rubbed her hands together. It didn’t create warmth so much as it relieved the numbness for a few precious seconds. It felt like sharp needles in her skin as the feeling returned.

Pain was good, she reminded herself. It meant the nerves in her hands were still functioning albeit barely. It meant that her brain was healthy enough to receive and interpret those signals. It meant she was still alive.

From a distance, the capital of Pyong-gang wasn’t more than a cluster of industrial buildings and what looked to be a badly aging shopping mall. Even before the break, the north hadn’t been in the best condition. She could only imagine what it would’ve looked like when the city was in better condition.

Probably the same, she thought to herself.

They had left the woods behind an hour ago and crossed through an open plain to reach the city. The party had been silent on their approach, but it was an obvious silence.

There’s no way he doesn’t know we’re using the clan chat, Sunbae.

Just because he knows that we’re talking doesn’t mean he knows what we’re talking about.The conversation had gone round and round after their last encounter with the Frostbitten in the forest. The small group had taken them by surprise, but everyone had made a good showing of themselves during the battle. Hana had even noticed that her brother made a conscious effort to reduce the danger to himself and his team in battle.

Hana herself had performed well. It felt good to be in her element rather than constantly facing off against boss monsters or having to hold back to allow younger players to gain more experience in battle.

Her brother had been curiously silent since the battle. Hana had thought to see if she could get him to open, but decided against it. After the stress of the past few days, she could use a bit of silence from him.

I asked him three questions: is my father here, what happened to your team, and how did you learn about sin?

The rules of the game were simple. They each asked three questions and answered with one lie.

The only reason to lie about their father would be to get the party to accompany him to Pyong-gang. But lying about the survivors would have been enough, it made no sense to lie about Youngho as well.

But it would be additional incentive, wouldn’t it? Jinyoung asked.

Hana had to agree, but the idea that Seunghyo would lie to her about her father made her stomach turn. Separated or not, they had once meant the world to each other.

If he lied about the rest of his team, they would be lying in wait, Willow offered.

In truth, Hana had assumed that to be the lie. When she asked him about the rest of his team, he had answered that all but two were dead. The wraith was certainly deadly, but it could be possible that he and his team had simply retreated through the gate-lock with few losses if any.

But he told me he had met up with the other survey team, Hana countered. If he were lying to deflate their numbers, why not leave that part out as well?

Finally, the third question had been about how Seunghyo knew of ‘sin’.

It makes sense that he would’ve seen data in the labs about sin, Jinyoung said. And there doesn’t seem to be anything to gain if he did lie about this.

Hana cursed to herself. This was exactly what Seunghyo wanted, to sow confusion and dissent among Hana and her party.

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It doesn’t matter, she said. We need to be ready for anything when we get in there.

***

The exterior of the shopping mall was surprisingly well intact. It didn’t look like the ravages of the Break had done much to it. It wasn’t until they were inside that the party realized the reasoning.

“It’s empty,” Willow whispered.

The entirety of the mall was empty. Not as if it had been cleared out, but as if it had never been populated to begin with.

“Yeah,” Seunghyo said with a chuckle. “ Rumor is, the north built this and the structures around here before the break to make it look like it was a thriving industrial complex. But all the buildings around here are empty shells.”

The pathfinder walked ahead past empty elevator shafts towards a stairwell in the back.

“Since there wasn’t a population here before the Break, there aren’t any dungeons in the area,” he continued. “At least, there wasn't until the barony got involved.”

It wasn't until they reached the third floor that they began to notice signs of life. Makeshift barricades had been erected and there were drag marks all over the floors.

Someone had been shoring up defenses.

The guards on the fourth floor eyed them warily, checking for injuries before cautiously waving them forward. Jinyoung had expected them to remove their weapons, but no effort was made. In fact, every person they passed on their way up carried a weapon be it a sword, mace, or axe.

They’re all armed, he said.

The party was observed with keen eyes. It looked like most of the survivors had been here for a while, weeks most likely.

“From what I could gather, the survivors here are from all over the barony,” Seunghyo explained. “Some fled their homes to safehouses that turned out to be less than advertised. This is the second or third stop for most of these people.”

The security and focus on being armed at all times made sense. Especially if you’d already experienced your shelter being raided just weeks or days earlier.

“It looks like the barony was using the fifth floor as a research station,” Seunghyo continued. “The rest of the building was pretty much empty until the survivors moved in.”

Seunghyo stopped another survivor and whispered to her. The woman, a short rogue with flaxen hair mumbled something back and pointed down the corridor.

Moment of truth, Hana said.

Now on the sixth floor, the party moved through the wide open space. It was populated with makeshift living quarters and a small kitchen. At most, there were thirty survivors living here although it looked like they could pick up and scatter at a moment’s notice.

They passed by a handful of onlookers before stopping in front a small crew of haggard older players.eyes as they moved through. Some of the survivors were asleep, but others were huddled in groups whispering with hushed voices. Not all the survivors were players, Jinyoung realized. Some were young, younger than he was when he went into the Black Shrine. While everyone was armed, it was evident which weren’t used to carrying weapons by the way they carried themselves.

Just ahead, a wall was covered with makeshift maps while a group of older men grumbled to one another.

Seunghyo brought the party to a stop just in front of the group who slowly turned to face the newcomers.

Hana said it almost like a whisper, Jinyoung, it’s him.

He was shorter than Jinyoung remembered. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

Or maybe it was just his imagination. His hair had long-since grayed and when he turned around, he could see the deep set wrinkles around the man’s eyes.

The old man had always worn leather armor, he preferred it to chain or plate mail as it allowed him flexibility. And, of course, he didn’t wield any weapons like monks were known to do. He only had the cloth wraps around his hands which barely hid the scars.

Youngho’s eyes slid right over Jinyoung and fixed directly on Hana.

“Hana?” He had barely croaked out the words before Hana rushed up and hugged her father. Willow stepped back to allow the family some semblance of space. When Jinyoung attempted to do the same, he felt Seunghyo behind him.

“Not so fast.”

There was a moment where Hana forgot the stress of where they were and what they were doing. Where she was a child again, safe in her father’s arms. The moment was there, then it passed.

Youngho saw the change come over his daughter and his face darkened. “What?”

The old man's eyes scanned the remaining three people before him. He bowed politely at Willow and when he finally recognized Seunghyo, his face broke into concern, but he gave him an approving nod.

Youngho thought to nod at the third stranger, but something stopped him. Enough that he paused and moved to take a closer look.

One moment, Youngho’s countenance was wrinkled with effort before recognition struck and his expression broke. “God, boy…is that you?”