Three hours had passed, and night had fallen.
 
When Youngjae got off the motorbike, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from Daehyun's frightening driving skills, he was shocked to find that he was in yet another district he didn't recognize; though, he did remember seeing a sign on the road that read "Welcome to District 8" for a brief second (there was also a small " off" scribbled underneath). None of the street signs in the vicinity looked remotely familiar, the entire place seemed devoid of any human soul, and every other building was on the verge of crumbling. For a moment, Youngjae wondered if Daehyun had taken him someplace to kill him, but shoved the thought away because they came all this way and Youngjae was keen on knowing Junhong's safety. It would be better to just give Daehyun the benefit of the doubt.
 
Daehyun left the motorbike leaning against a brick building, and walked with brisk steps down the street, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. Youngjae silently asked himself if following Daehyun had been the right thing to do.

"Welcome to the land the Republic abandoned," Daehyun muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disgust.
 
Youngjae picked up his pace to walk beside Daehyun, who had his eyes fixed straight ahead unlike four hours ago when they were walking to the bus stop. "What—"
 
"Hold on," Daehyun ordered, his voice muffled by the scarf. "Once we're inside, I'll explain everything."
 
Scowling, Youngjae snapped his jaw shut, and begrudgingly followed Daehyun down the abandoned road. There was an eeriness about the place that was unsettling to Youngjae, though; perhaps it was the emptiness of the place or the unfamiliarity of it. Either way, Youngjae felt the hair on his back stand on end as if he was being watched.
 
Daehyun turned down an alleyway, and Youngjae barely had time to follow. The instant they were out of the streetlights and engulfed in the darkness of the alley, though, a red light lit their path from behind them. It was then that Daehyun picked up his pace; that was all it took for Youngjae to begin panicking,
 
"Take my hand, hurry," Daehyun muttered, sticking out his hand towards Youngjae.
 
The instant their skin touched, Daehyun was practically sprinting down the alley, and Youngjae had barely registered what was happening until he was being harshly tugged at the arm. They turned left and right, their frantic footsteps echoing against the close walls of the quiet alley. The light persisted to follow them.
 
"What's the—"
 
"Don't turn around. Whatever you do, don't turn around," Daehyun interrupted. The commanding tone only increased Youngjae's panic.
 
Despite Daehyun's warning (and Youngjae's better judgement), he still turned his head; it was just a fraction, just a small degree to the right, but what Youngjae saw made him stumble slightly. A spherical robot, about the size of a steering wheel, floated just above eye-level, its center glowing a furious red. It had two spindling mechanical arms that stretched out for Youngjae, but fell just a couple feet short. Its source of power, it seemed, came from that glowing center.
 
It didn't instill panic and fear in Youngjae, but more of a curiosity for the robot.
 
Daehyun glanced back at Youngjae, groaning at what had happened. "For 's sake, I told you not to look at it!"
 
At the outburst, Youngjae focused his attention to the front again. It wasn't long before Youngjae grew tired, though, and he knew his pace was steadily growing slower and slower. When he glanced back again, he saw the robot had caught up and had his scarf in its metal claw. It was slowing Youngjae down, and he could feel the scarf beginning to press against his neck.
 
"We're almost there, just hang on," Daehyun urged, tugging on Youngjae's hand.
 
"Daehyun," Youngjae began, his voice trembling slightly. "Behind me..."
 
Daehyun didn't even look back. "Yeah, I know. I'll tell you about it later."
 
"No," Youngjae said, his voice falling to a whisper. "It's...pulling me back."
 
"You can't be serious," Daehyun said, slowing his own pace. The next thing Youngjae knew, Daehyun spun around, the balls of his shoes making a scraping sound on the concrete as he shoved Youngjae to the side. He pulled the pistol from behind his back, shooting the robot right in its center.
 
The entire world flashed a brilliant white, leaving splotches blinking in Youngjae's vision, and his ears rang painfully. He held his breath, staring at Daehyun's eyes, bright orbs that shone with determination and possibly anger as well.
 
The claw let go of Youngjae's scarf, and the robot fell to the ground with a cold clatter. The once red center faded, leaving Daehyun and Youngjae in darkness with the faint sheen of moonlight as their only source of light. Daehyun turned around, his silhouette just barely a darker shadow against the walls, but before they could move again, Youngjae scooped up the robot in his hands. Daehyun stared at Youngjae, who said nothing. After a brief moment of contemplation on Daehyun's part, he resumed moving. They walked in silence for the most part, save for their hard pants for breath. Daehyun could have said something, but Youngjae didn't hear it; his ears were still ringing.
 
When Daehyun stopped, Youngjae bumped into his back, causing the both of them to nearly fall flat on their faces. Daehyun knocked on the door with three staccato taps. A panel eye-level to them in the door slid open, revealing a pair of eyes. It focused on them, and, upon seeing Daehyun, opened the door that swung open with a creak that Youngjae was sure the entire world heard. Without hesitation, Daehyun ushered Youngjae inside. It wasn't particularly warm, but was warmer than outside. The dim orange light enveloped Youngjae, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust.
 
"Welcome back," a voice greeted, and when Youngjae turned his head, he saw a young man with dyed blonde hair behind a counter, chin in his hand, an amused look on his face. "Is that your new toy, Busan Wonbin?"
 
Daehyun grit his teeth, and urged Youngjae forward. Youngjae glanced between the young man and Daehyun, wondering what kind of exchange was happening.
 
"Just ignore him," Daehyun told Youngjae, the hand on the small of Youngjae's back pressing harder.
 
"Have fun, and please don't be too loud. There are other people here, too, you know!" the young man called out as Daehyun led Youngjae down a dimly lit corridor.
 
"Yeah, whatever," Daehyun replied.
 
The entire place wasn't exactly spotless, and Youngjae feared the roof might collapse on them if they weren't too careful. The wallpaper was a faded green, and was peeling in some places. Doorways lined up and down the hall, the color of the doors matching the same faded green as the wallpaper. The more Youngjae stalled, though, the harder Daehyun pressed Youngjae to walk faster.
 
"Just a couple more doors, Youngjae," Daehyun said.
 
Eventually, they reached a doorway with the number 184 engraved on a dull golden plate, and Daehyun stopped. Youngjae would have kept walking if the hand guiding him hadn't disappeared. Daehyun took a pair of keys out of his pocket, and inserted one of them into the lock. The door opened, and Daehyun strolled inside while Youngjae took in his surroundings. In the far right corner of the room were two cots laying side by side separated only by a wooden crate. In the center of the room was a wooden desk with a chair beside it. Littering the floor around the desk were papers with numbers, letters, and diagrams, all seemingly random. Other than that, the entire room was bare.
 
"Make yourself at home," Daehyun said as he dropped his knapsack at the foot of one of the cots. He walked toward the desk, and began gathering the papers into a pile. "Don't get too comfortable, though. This is only a pit stop. We're moving again in a couple days."
 
"Why did we have to leave?" Youngjae asked. There were different thoughts going through his mind, but the most prominent ones were I have class tomorrow and I have a research paper due next week and I haven't even started that yet. He still stood near the doorway, but didn't dare move; if he did, he was afraid that he would overstep his boundaries.

"Close the door," Daehyun said, seemingly ignoring Youngjae. He obeyed, and went to repeat his question, but Daehyun began talking again. "Some Legion soldiers were going to come and collect you."

Youngjae blinked. The Legion was used only for the most important instances, such as wars and riots, and was under the direct command of the Empress, Madame Hyosung, herself; everything else was handled by the Auxiliary Police. There was absolutely no way the Legion would go out of their way to fetch somebody as insignificant as Youngjae. "I'm sorry?"

Daehyun placed a stack of papers on the desk, and stared at Youngjae. "Legion soldiers. Gonna get you. We left before they––"

"Yeah, I know, I got that part," Youngjae interrupted Daehyun. "But why would some Legion soldiers be after me? I'm not anything important. I'm a university student with barely a graduate degree, my parents aren't particularly wealthy or influential, I have nothing to my name––"

"Well, for starters, you're a genius," Daehyun said, crouching underneath the desk to collect the papers still on the floor. He stood up straight again before continuing. "But there's also the possibility that they found out you were housing a 'criminal' or a 'renegade' or a 'fugitive'."

Youngjae flapped his mouth open and closed for a short moment, trying to figure out the connection between the two. "I haven't been housing a fugitive!"

Daehyun placed the remaining stack of papers on the desk, faced Youngjae again with raised eyebrows. "Were you?"

With wide eyes, Youngjae's mouth dropped open as he finally pieced it all together. "You're a...?"

Daehyun nodded, then said, "Do you need a moment?"

Youngjae grit his teeth, and his grip on the robot in his arms tightened. Before he could even think, he was spewing out accusations. "You put me at risk! My life at risk! I was supposed to graduate from university, get a decent job, have a family, but you ruined all that!"

When Youngjae looked into Daehyun's eyes, he saw guilt and shame, but Youngjae decided to ignore it. He was going to get back home even if he injured himself doing it. Daehyun opened his mouth, and the voice that came out was small and regretful. "We needed to get to you before the Republic did."

"'We'? Who's 'we'?" Youngjae asked. The longer they carried out this conversation, Youngjae realized, the more irritated he was getting.

"A resistance group. Maybe even terrorists, if you want to go to extremes," Daehyun explained. "But we're certain that there's something wrong inside the Republic."

Youngjae took a deep breath to calm himself before he could do or say anything in a blind rage. "I'm going to assume that you need me for something. What for?"

There was silence for a moment, and a pensive look appeared on Daehyun's face. "Robots aren't unfamiliar territory to you."
 
When Youngjae looked into Daehyun's eyes, waiting for him to elaborate, he found nothing, just an infinite abyss of...darkness. "That's my major, I know. But why?"
 
"Top of your class, built the sturdiest AI in your entire university, a bot that easily rivals even the best of the Republic's," Daehyun continued, listing Youngjae's qualifications as if they were things off a grocery list. "You'd make an excellent weapons specialist or an engineer. That's why the Republic wants you. That's why we had to get you out of the city."
 
Youngjae narrowed his eyes, and leaned back. "How do you know what I do?"
 
"Junhong."

Youngjae stared at Daehyun as the gears in his mind began working. When Youngjae realized it, his mouth fell open, and his hands threatened to drop the robot still in his arms. Junhong was the last person Youngjae would have expected to be involved with this. This made Youngjae question how well he really knew Junhong.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before," Youngjae managed as he tried to calm himself down. "The night we met, you told me you couldn't explain the situation you were in. This is it, isn't it? He's part of your rebel group. Of course Junhong is part of your little anti-Republic campaign. He's a 'friend'."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Youngjae," Daehyun said, his voice going quiet again. "I just...couldn't. Things were difficult. Junhong almost got caught. We were balancing on a rope above hungry sharks. We still are."

Youngjae realized that it was far too late to go back now anyway. If the Legion really had showed up at his apartment, and they found him gone with his transceiver watch abandoned on a side-table, there was no doubt that they'd search for him. Returning would mean being taken in for questioning––why had he been keeping a rebel under his care, why did he leave––and then he'd have to deal with what they had originally planned for him.

With sense of resignation now weighing on his shoulders, Youngjae said, "What can you tell me right now?"