Leo’s Blackcar Y pulled out of Tera Motors Factory No. 2 and merged onto the Skyway, headed for Seongbuk-dong. Six minutes to Dr. Jang’s grand mansion. But the moment the Blackcar Y appeared on the road, police drones immediately began their pursuit.
Whirrr— whirrrr—
Twelve patrol-type pursuit drones. Their rear LIDAR immediately identified the Blackcar Y’s vehicle model and broadcast a siren signal. A red alert popped up on Leo’s in-vehicle monitor.
“Master. Twelve police drones approaching at 380 km/h. Will enter firing range in 6.2 seconds.”
Mika spoke coolly.
“Leo, you draw them off toward the Han River. I’ll fly separately.”
Flying separately… Mika had already accepted that she was a butterfly drone. As if to honor that acceptance, Leo fell silent for three seconds before answering.
“A valid operation. I will attempt to draw them off at the bypass just before the tunnel entrance.”
The Blackcar Y maintained its speed and reached the point just before the tunnel entrance. The lock on the in-vehicle ceiling hatch released — whirr— a small slit opened just a sliver.
Screech—
At the same instant, the Blackcar Y turned sharply and pulled into the tunnel bypass. The pursuit drones rushed after it in unison.
Whirr— a small butterfly-shaped drone hovered briefly in the direction the Blackcar Y had gone, then sharply veered left and began flying toward the deep mountain ridges of Seongbuk-dong. The pursuit drones’ LIDAR did not detect the butterfly drone at all, and swept past it.
By the time Mika (the butterfly drone) arrived in the airspace above Dr. Jang’s mansion, 150 suppression drones, commanded by the Police Agency’s pacification AI ‘FutureForce,’ were already swarming the mansion in tight formation.
Mika activated the Ghost Handshake camouflage protocol. It was a cloaking technology that disguised her signature as friendly to the enemy’s identification algorithm. None of the hostile drones around her triggered a security alert against the butterfly. Mika entered the mansion’s living room without resistance.
Boom- crash- boom- boom-
Suppression drones were colliding and exploding all over the 15-meter-tall stained-glass windows. The multicolored stained-glass piece ‘My Memory of Joan of Arc’ was shattering — from Joan of Arc’s head downward — chu-kang, chang. Colorful shards of glass scattered through the air, glittering as if exhaling their last light. In this way, Dr. Jang Jin-gyu’s grand mansion was being attacked by countless drone swarms. The 150 suppression drones split up — 20 to the first-floor study, 30 to the living room, 70 to the second floor, and 30 to outer-perimeter patrol — searching the mansion inside and out.
Whirr- whirr-
Mika was flying in among the 20 drones heading for the study.
“There is a secret door in the study wall leading underground. There are 8 likely lock points. Detonate them all.”
When FutureForce’s order came down through the drone headsets, 8 of the 20 drones switched their upper green lights to red, then flew at each of the 8 book-filled points and struck them at point-blank range.
Boom- ba-boom-
When the 8 points were detonated, a huge bookshelf opened like a massive door, screeching and clicking. Tudu-duk- one of the lock mechanisms broke off and fell to the floor.
Whirrrr!
The 12-drone swarm charged at high speed toward the opened bookshelf door. Surely a staircase leading underground would appear. But — ku-kwang- kwang- the drones that flew at the bookshelf door slammed straight into an inner blast wall and exploded. There was nothing there but a solid concrete wall.
“It’s a fake. Search elsewhere.”
The remaining 8 drones immediately turned and flew toward the kitchen. But one drone did not leave the study. The small butterfly-shaped drone — Mika. Mika flew silently, scanning the bookshelf wall. From one of the 8 detonated lock points, light was leaking out. It was a hole that had been blown open. The small butterfly-shaped drone flew straight into that hole.
“…”
“Careful, careful! Don’t break it!”
“Yes, understood, Doctor.”
As the small butterfly drone emerged from the ventilation duct, the panoramic view of a wide, high-ceilinged underground laboratory unfolded before her.
For a moment, Mika doubted her own visual sensors.
A new space had revealed itself: 30 meters high, 80 meters wide. The entire east wall of the lab opened up with a massive sheet of reinforced glass, and beyond it stretched a black cylindrical vacuum tube 6 meters in diameter, beginning at the lab and shooting straight into darkness. Cyan-tinged magnetic coils lined both walls of the tube, embedded at regular intervals like a colossal spine. The launch platform set against the east interior was as enormous as a subway station. Above the rail-like tube, a three-car maglev train hovered 50 cm in the air, awaiting the launch signal.
Could a facility like this really exist beneath a Seongbuk-dong mansion? It was beyond the scope of any private laboratory. By any reckoning, it was a national-secret-base-class facility — no, beyond that — and how could such a place have been installed here at all?
While Mika held these questions, eight forklift robots loaded 40 quartz-glass servers — ‘Silica’ — into the cargo car of the hyperloop. The small butterfly drone — Mika — flew straight toward Dr. Jang.
Dr. Jang’s hands were trembling, and his shoulders were tense and stiff. His secretary Rachel placed her hand on his shoulder and gently kneaded it. As his stiffened shoulders loosened and some of the tension eased, he let out a shallow sigh.
“How long will it take them to break through?”
“Seven minutes remaining.”
“Is the child here yet?”
By ‘the child,’ Dr. Jang meant Mika. Rachel smiled as she saw the small butterfly-shaped drone approaching from behind.
“Yes. She’s just arrived.”
Mika flew up before Dr. Jang and Rachel. From the small but high-performance nano-speaker mounted on the butterfly drone came Mika’s voice — exactly as it had been before.
“You evil Doctor!”
Mika lashed out in anger right off the bat. Dr. Jang’s wrinkled eyes widened slightly in surprise. A smile seemed to ghost across his face, but his muscles were paralyzed and no real expression came through. Rachel, as if speaking on Dr. Jang’s behalf, smiled and asked,
“Why? It seems you don’t like the butterfly form?”
“You should have just let me die — why did you keep me alive in this shape?”
At those words, Dr. Jang turned his head and looked at Rachel. Rachel immediately nodded.
“Cyborg No. 463. Operating name Yoon Mika v2. Descend.”
From every direction in the ceiling, countless photon beams began converging on a single point. Photon Assembly — a technology that stored a previously printed body at the molecular-particle level and reconstructed it instantly within a photonic enclosure when summoned. Like 3D printing, a dazzling body assembled itself, layer by layer, in midair. In just 0.6 seconds, a nude white female body floated in midair. It was Yoon Mika exactly as she had been in life.
“It took some time to complete your cyborg body.”
Dr. Jang said this in a trembling voice. It seemed not so much from emotion as from a diaphragm weakened by age. The butterfly drone whirled around Yoon Mika v2 — whrr-whrr-whrr— as if teleporting in tight circles. Rachel could read the butterfly drone’s excitement frequency precisely. Dr. Jang spoke, addressing the butterfly drone.
“This is your body. Enter it.”
The butterfly-shaped drone hovered, at a loss. *‘My body! That’s my body! Not the image that existed only in Leo’s monitor — my real body is right here in front of me!’* The butterfly drone darted left and right even more rapidly — whrr-whrr-whrr— *‘But how am I supposed to get into it? Am I some kind of spirit? I’m just a solid, butterfly-shaped object!’*
“Shall I help you?”
Rachel smiled and snatched the butterfly drone in her hand— *‘Aaagh! What is this lady doing to me right now?!’* The butterfly-shaped drone startled and fluttered.
Rachel paid no mind whatsoever and brought the butterfly drone straight to the brow — the space between the eyebrows — of Yoon Mika v2, floating in midair. It was the brow space said in mythology to hold the Third Eye. Anatomically, it was the projection point of the pineal gland — the seat believed to be the conduit between consciousness and the nervous system.
Zzzzzing— the brow opened, revealing a precision slot. In response, the butterfly’s back panel opened, and a pill-sized capsule — a neural core chip — slid out. Inside that small chip, Mika’s cerebellum, brainstem, and limbic system were compressed in their entirety. The nano-capsule was pulled, as if drawn to a magnet, straight into the brow slot with a click. Zzzing— the brow slot closed. In an instant, Mika’s consciousness went out — whoosh — as if she had been given propofol.
The now-empty butterfly drone could no longer fly; it drifted to the ground and quietly powered down. It was as quiet as a silkworm that had finished its mission and gone to sleep.
“Huh—!”
The naked Yoon Mika, floating in midair, snapped her eyes open.
“Are you awake yet, Reporter Yoon Mika?”
Rachel smiled at Mika. Mika heard the sound of a human heart pounding inside her chest.
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