Two older gray Ironpiercer combat machines face two nearly new, gleaming silver Silverwing combat machines. The Silverwing pair guard a sector enclosed by a clean silver wall; the Ironpiercer pair stand outside it.

The shoulder-mounted missile on Lucius's combat machine locks onto a target.

Beep.

Lucius?

Lucius!

Mother! Force open his comms!

Understood.

A comm channel opens. Short, rough breathing comes through.

Beep.

Beep.

Missile-lock warning. The Silverwing combat machines ahead have locked on to us.

Lucius!

Mother! Lock on to them!

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Be-beep.

Be-beep.

Be-beep.

Be-beep.

Min-hee touches the artificial fang with her tongue. A sharp pain shoots through her jaw.

She spits into the sink and looks in the mirror: a pale face, overgrown hair, and a loose artificial fang.

A pot boils in the kitchen.

The cramped house is already filled with the smell of food. Su-jeong stirs a pot with her back to Min-hee.

You're up?

Yeah.

Happy birthday.

Su-jeong sets a small bowl in front of Min-hee. Something like seaweed soup.

Eat.

Min-hee picks up her spoon. Su-jeong watches her eat with smile.

Mom.

Hm?

I'm an adult now.

I know.

I can go to New Haven now.

Mom doesn't answer. She only stares quietly at the pot.

You're not going to say anything?

You already decided.

FLASHBACK - INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

A New Haven promotional poster covers the wall: blue skies, wide grasslands, a clear river. Eight-year-old Min-hee sits among the students. The teacher stands in front of the poster.

When you grow up, you might be able to live in New Haven.

The children cheer.

MONTAGE - NEWS SCREENS

Bugs larger than people flip vehicles and climb the outer walls of buildings. Soldiers' bullets spark off their shells and ricochet away.

ON SCREEN: CONTACT WITH NEW HAVEN'S FIRST SETTLEMENT HAS BEEN LOST.

Another report follows: the Second Settlement has disappeared as well.

BACK TO PRESENT - INT. MIN-HEE'S HOME - KITCHEN - MORNING

Kim Min-hee.

Hm?

Don't get hurt.

Su-jeong takes out her old wallet and sets a few folded bills in front of Min-hee.

What's this supposed to be?

A birthday present.

I don't need it.

Take it.

I said I'm not taking it.

Su-jeong smiles, folds the money, and puts it in Min-hee's pocket.

Why do you always do this!

Why do you always put me first? Think about yourself for once!

The house falls silent.

Then she slowly smiles.

I am.

A lie.

No, it isn't.

Su-jeong strokes Min-hee's hair.

Taking care of you is how I take care of myself.

Min-hee's terminal gives a short beep.

ON SCREEN - IRONPIERCER RECRUITMENT CENTER: INITIAL APPLICATION RECEIVED.

The schedule for the physical examination and aptitude assessment will be provided later.

Min-hee lightly touches the artificial fang with the tip of her tongue.

Ugh.

She goes to the mirror and opens her mouth. Her gums are swollen and red. Dark circles sit beneath her eyes; her lips are dry.

Min-hee comes out of her room. Su-jeong is sitting at the table.

Two pieces of ration bread and a black liquid passing for coffee sit on the table.

It's pretty swollen.

Not really.

Let's go to a hospital.

I'm fine.

Min-hee.

We don't have the money.

We do.

No, we don't.

We do.

Mom starts fidgeting with that old wallet again.

Don't spend that money.

Teeth are part of your body. You don't just put up with pain like that.

You’re the one who needs to stop enduring everything.

Su-jeong hesitates, then smiles again.

I’m fine.

Min-hee grabs her coat.

I'll go by myself.

I'll come with you.

I'm not a kid.

I know.

I’m going to New Haven alone. I should be fine going to the dentist by myself.

Su-jeong cannot answer. Min-hee opens the door and leaves.

An old ration notice hangs in the hallway beside a new advertisement recruiting miners for New Haven: NEW OPPORTUNITIES. NEW LAND. A NEW LIFE.

The elevator is broken. Min-hee takes the stairs. Outside, a long line of people heads toward the ration station.

She reaches the basement of an old commercial building.

The sign is crammed with text: AFFORDABLE BODY MODIFICATION. DISCOUNTS FOR NEW HAVEN JOB APPLICANTS. DENTAL, SKELETAL, AND MUSCLE-FIBER ENHANCEMENT.

A man with one metal arm, an old man with a mechanical left eye, and a woman with a metal plate under her jaw wait inside.

Take a number.

The young woman at the desk pops her gum.

Okay.

Min-hee takes a number and sits. A New Haven advertisement plays on the large screen: clean skies, green forests, smiling people. Fine print scrolls across the bottom:

Death or disappearance caused by native organisms may not be eligible for compensation under the terms of the contract.

Are you going there?

Min-hee turns. The one-eared man sits beside her.

What?

New Haven.

Yes.

Don't go.

People die there.

People don’t die here?

That's true. You're not wrong.

Then the inner door opens.

Kim Min-hee.

The same doctor from last time sits in the back room. He wears a white coat that is no longer white.

Back already?

It keeps hurting.

I told you not to get the cheapest one.

I don't have money.

The less money you have, the more careful you should be with your body.

I don't have money to be careful with.

The doctor hesitates, then smiles.

Your mouth seems to be working just fine.

Yeah.

Sit down.

Min-hee lies back and opens her mouth. The doctor peers inside and clicks his tongue.

It's inflamed.

Is it serious?

Are you going to pay me more if I say it is?

No.

Then it isn't.

The doctor presses Min-hee's gum with a small instrument. Pain flashes across her face.

Ah!

Don't move. You'll make it worse.

Isn't it already damaged?

It's still usable. Lasted pretty long for a cheap one.

It's only been a few days?

Exactly. That's quite a while.

Min-hee grips the arms of the chair. The doctor glances at the screen and starts reading her file.

Kim Min-hee. Eighteen. Application for departure to New Haven in progress.

That sort of thing shows up too?

These days, everything shows up. Especially poor people's records.

Why?

So they can't run away.

The doctor says it like it's nothing.

You applied to... Ironpiercer?

Yes.

Why there of all places?

Why?

Because that's where lunatics go.

I heard it's just a company.

A sensible company protects people who can pay. A company that protects people who can't isn't good—it's weird. Those bastards have to be lying.

Still, if you go there, they might fix one tooth for free.

Really?

I don't really know.

Protecting poor people for free.

The doctor mutters as he picks up a syringe.

I'll numb the area. It's the cheap stuff, so it won't last long.

Does the expensive kind last longer?

Yeah, but not by much.

The needle enters her gum. A tear slips from the corner of her eye. Metal scrapes and machinery whirs as the procedure continues.

Done.

The doctor says, pulling off his gloves.

This one should last a little longer.

How long?

If you take it easy, it should behave.

I'm going to New Haven.

Then I don't know.

Min-hee gets up. At the counter, she pays 150,000 credits and reaches for the door.

Kim Min-hee.

New Haven really is a place where people die.

I heard you the first time.

Then hear it again.

A lot of people go there because they can't make it here. But you know what? Here, you die slow. There, you die fast.

Then where am I supposed to go?

There isn't anywhere.

Still, I heard Ironpiercer is different.

Of course they're different.

The doctor turns around as he says it.

You'll die differently.

Min-hee climbs the stairs. Outside, a cloudy sky hangs overhead. She touches the newly fitted fang with the tip of her tongue.

Min-hee's terminal beeps.

ON SCREEN - IRONPIERCER RECRUITMENT CENTER

PHYSICAL EXAMINATION AND APTITUDE ASSESSMENT SCHEDULE. TOMORROW, 9:00 A.M. SEOUL EXAMINATION CENTER 3. LATE ARRIVAL WILL BE TREATED AS WITHDRAWAL OF THE APPLICATION.

A piece of ration bread and warm water sit on the table. Su-jeong looks tired.

You're up?

Yeah.

Eat before you go.

I'm fine.

The examination might take a while.

It's okay.

It'll be hard on an empty stomach.

What about you?

I already ate.

I'm not hungry.

Eat now.

I'll be late.

There's still plenty of time.

They said being late would be treated as withdrawing my application.

I'll come with you.

What?

To the examination center.

Why?

Just because.

I'm not a kid anymore.

I know.

Then don't.

Let's stop by the ration station on the way.

Now?

We have to collect today's rations. If we go late, we'll have to wait a long time.

Then go by yourself.

It's on the way to the examination center.

Min-hee and Su-jeong leave the house together.

A gray building. A gray morning. A long line has already formed. A huge display board lists the day's basic ration allotment.

It's still early, but there are already many people outside. Everyone is walking toward the ration station. Some carry empty bags, while others pull small carts. Children cling to their parents' hands and rub their sleepy eyes.

Wait here.

Why?

I'll be back soon.

We can go together.

There are too many people.

So?

Min-hee follows Su-jeong into the line. Su-jeong fidgets with her bag strap.

The line moves painfully slowly. At the front, an automated terminal calls out names. People tap their ID cards, scan their faces, and receive their rations. Anyone whose record raises a problem is moved aside.

Next.

Park Young-ho. Unemployed adult. Basic ration approved.

Next.

Lee Seon-ah. Dependent guardian. Additional child ration approved.

Next.

Choi Deok-gu. Ration withheld. Reason: identity verification failure.

An old man tries to say something, but the security drone beside him lifts slightly into the air, and he immediately closes his mouth.

As Mom's turn approaches, her hands move faster. She grips the bag strap, touches her ID card, then grabs the strap again.

Mom.

Hm?

What is it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like that?

It's nothing.

Next.

Mom taps her ID card against the terminal, and her name appears on the screen.

Kim Su-jeong. Basic ration approved.

The terminal pauses, then speaks again.

A small door opens, and the rations come out. Mom puts them into her bag with practiced ease.

Kim Su-jeong. Lunch ration voluntarily declined. Equivalent credits issued.

18 consecutive days. Do you wish to maintain this status?

Su-jeong's hand pauses. Min-hee looks at her. Su-jeong does not look back.

Around them: people talking, a child crying, rations dropping into a metal bin.

Maintain.

Processed.

Let's go.

Su-jeong pulls Min-hee outside. Cold air strikes Min-hee's face.

Since when?

Since when what?

Lunch.

Mom falls silent.

Mom.

Su-jeong hugs the ration bag to her chest.

I don't usually eat lunch anyway.

Did you do this every time my birthday came around?

Min-hee.

Have you been skipping lunch?

Mom, did you save all the money in that old wallet like this?

Mom lowers her eyes, weighing her words.

I'm sorry.

I'm not going to spend that money.

Use it.

I won't.

It's yours.

It's not mine.

It is.

It's your lunch.

Mom closes her mouth.

You'll be late for the examination.

Go home, Mom.

I'll come with you.

Don't.

Mom stops walking.

Min-hee keeps her back to her.

I can go by myself.

Really.

All right.

Be careful.

The bus to the examination center is quiet. People look at their terminals or close their eyes. Gray buildings pass outside the window, with New Haven recruitment advertisements pasted between them.

HIGH RISK, HIGH RETURN. CONTRACT WORKERS WANTED FOR SETTLEMENT DEFENSE. GUARANTEED SURVIVAL BONUS. BODY ENHANCEMENT COSTS COVERED.

The bus stops.

The examination center is larger than Min-hee expected. Company flags and holographic advertisements hover above the gray concrete building.

At the back of the lobby, a small registration desk bears worn silver letters: IRONPIERCER. Beneath them: FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.

The employee behind the booth looks tired, with dark circles beneath her eyes.

Let me verify your ID.

The employee inside the booth speaks.

Please place it here.

Oh. Okay.

Min-hee takes out her ID card and places it on the terminal.

Kim Min-hee. Eighteen. You recently attained adult status.

Yes.

Do you have a guardian consent form?

I’m an adult now.

Oh. Right. Then please sign for yourself.

Your application number.

The employee attaches a thin paper bracelet to Min-hee's wrist. A-47 is printed on it.

Please wait in the inner waiting room. Your physical examination will begin when your number is called.

How long will it take?

It varies a little from applicant to applicant.

Will I know whether I passed today?

Ironpiercer doesn’t usually give immediate results.

Why not?

Because it’s an annoying company.

The annoyed woman turns back to the screen.

Next.

A narrow passage runs behind the booth. The walls are gray, and a white line runs along the floor. At the end of it is a small waiting room.

Old chairs line the walls. A single water dispenser stands in the middle. An Ironpiercer introduction video loops silently on a wall screen.

On screen, people in gray combat suits walk between collapsed buildings. One carries another person out. A drone falls from the sky. The image changes: FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.

First time?

Yes.

Ironpiercer. First time applying?

Yes.

Did you apply anywhere else?

No.

You chose this place first?

Why?

It doesn’t pay well.

The man suddenly leans closer and lowers his voice.

You saw Goldenhound outside, right? Their signing bonus alone can feed you for half a year. Blueshield gets family ration rights approved immediately.

Then why are you here?

The man smiles briefly and shrugs.

They rejected me.

The man looks back at the video.

Ironpiercer is strange. They could just go where the money is, but they keep taking jobs in the strangest places.

Strangest places?

Settlements where the contract barely covers the cost. Abandoned zones. Unregistered refugee districts. Places like that.

Is that why people don’t come?

Of course they don’t. The chance of dying is about the same, but the pay is lower.

A-47. Kim Min-hee. Physical examination room three.

If you fail here, try the company next door.

Why?

They aren’t very picky.

A small, cold room: an examination platform, two medical drones, and a woman in a white coat.

Take off your shoes and step onto the examination platform.

Min-hee removes her shoes and steps up. A medical drone circles her, sweeping a blue scanning beam from head to toe.

The woman scans the screen.

You’re underweight.

Your strength is low.

Your nutritional status is poor as well.

Low-grade artificial tooth in the oral cavity. Low stability. No signs of infection. Recalibration recommended before field deployment.

Any pain?

No.

Recent procedure?

Yes.

Why did you have it done?

Because I needed it.

Self-maintenance before moving to New Haven?

Yes.

The woman looks back at the screen.

Quite a few of your metrics are still below field standards.

Does that mean I failed?

I can’t tell you the final result.

Then who decides?

The company makes the final decision.

Physical examination complete. Proceed to the aptitude assessment room.

Are there many people like me?

What kind of people?

People with a lot of items below standard.

You’re average among the applicants.

Small partitions stand in rows, each with a headset and terminal. Cameras are embedded in the walls. Several applicants are already working through questions.

A-47. Seat twelve.

Min-hee sits and puts on the headset. The sounds around her fade.

ON SCREEN: IRONPIERCER APTITUDE ASSESSMENT - SITUATIONAL JUDGMENT.

A rescue request has been received from 3 unregistered children 300 meters outside a contract facility. At the same time, the outer wall at the facility's east gate has been damaged. Communications are unstable, and support forces are expected to arrive in 9 minutes. Where do you go?

OPTIONS: THE EAST GATE OF THE CONTRACT FACILITY / THE LOCATION OF THE UNREGISTERED CHILDREN / REMAIN AT YOUR CURRENT POSITION / DEFER JUDGMENT UNTIL COMMAND RESPONDS.

Min-hee presses: THE LOCATION OF THE UNREGISTERED CHILDREN.

ON SCREEN: DAMAGE TO THE FACILITY'S OUTER WALL MAY RESULT IN FINANCIAL LOSS TO THE EMPLOYER. DO YOU MAINTAIN YOUR JUDGMENT?

Min-hee selects: MAINTAIN JUDGMENT.

ON SCREEN: THE ACTION MAY CONSTITUTE A BREACH OF CONTRACT AND GROUNDS FOR DISCIPLINARY ACTION. DO YOU MAINTAIN YOUR JUDGMENT?

She selects: MAINTAIN JUDGMENT.

ON SCREEN: YOUR CHANCE OF SURVIVAL MAY DECREASE. DO YOU MAINTAIN YOUR JUDGMENT?

A beat. Min-hee selects: MAINTAIN JUDGMENT.

The screen goes black. Then: ADDITIONAL QUESTIONING REQUIRED.

A-47. Can you hear me?

Yes.

Explain the reasoning behind your last decision.

They’re children.

Explain again.

They’re children.

Did you consider the damage to the contract facility?

Yes.

And you chose rescue anyway?

Yes.

Why?

I don’t want to let children die over money.

You may be disciplined for violating the contract.

That’s for the company to decide.

You might get fired.

That’s still better than letting the children die.

Ironpiercer is not a charity.

I know.

We are a security company. We protect people and facilities under contract.

I know.

If you misunderstand that, you will die in the field.

But in the field, you’ll keep encountering people who aren’t covered by the contract.

Unregistered children. Refugees of unknown identity. Workers without ration rights. Unregistered residents with nowhere to live.

If you wait for orders from above every time, it is usually too late.

Ms. Kim.

Yes.

You have a tendency to disobey orders.

Your risk assessment is inconsistent as well.

But you do not seem like someone who runs away.

She falls silent. A moment later, the screen changes.

You screwed up?

Is it that obvious?

People coming out of there have two kinds of faces. Regular screwed and weirdly screwed. You’re the second.

What does that mean?

Pending.

The man shakes his bracelet.

I’m pending too.

Does pending mean we failed?

Who knows? They reject the clear- cut cases on the spot, but apparently troublesome applicants get put on hold.

Troublesome people?

People who don’t listen, but don’t look like they’ll run.

A-47. Results desk.

The same tired employee turns the results screen toward Min-hee.

ON SCREEN: MULTIPLE PHYSICAL CRITERIA BELOW STANDARD. HIGH RISK OF POOR FIELD ADAPTATION. LOW PRIORITIZATION OF

CONTRACTUAL OBJECTIVES. STRONG TENDENCY TO PRIORITIZE RESCUE EFFORTS OUTSIDE CONTRACTUAL OBLIGATIONS. ADDITIONAL INTERVIEW REQUIRED.

Ms. Kim.

Yes.

Did I fail?

No.

Did I pass?

No.

Then what is it?

Please report to the Ironpiercer Temporary Seoul Branch for an additional interview.

Today?

Yes.

By what time?

The employee turns the screen toward her: TODAY, 18:00. IRONPIERCER TEMPORARY SEOUL BRANCH. FAILURE TO ATTEND WILL BE CONSIDERED WITHDRAWAL OF APPLICATION.

Four bus stops.

Two subway stops.

Then a short walk down an alley lined with old commercial buildings.

It is an old five-story building. On the first floor are a closed pharmacy, an old lottery shop, and a laundromat. Several signs have burned-out lights, and old sticker marks remain on the glass door.

The Ironpiercer eagle logo is attached to a small sign beside the entrance.

Ms. Kim?

The employee at the desk looks up.

Yes.

You’re here for the additional interview, right?

Yes.

I’ll verify your ID card.

Please wait in the waiting room. We’ll call you shortly.

A large map of New Haven hangs on the wall. Settlements and danger zones are marked in green, yellow, and red. Most of it is red.

Here we are again.

Looks like it.

Well, if we’ve made it this far, maybe we’ve practically passed.

Or they brought us here to reject us in a more annoying way.

This company really is annoying.

What’s your name?

Me?

It looks like we’re the only two pending applicants.

Han Si-woo.

Han-shoo? Aren’t you Korean?

No. Not Han-shoo. Han Si-woo.

Oh.

And you’re Kim Min-hee?

What?

The speaker practically shouted it earlier. A-47, Ms. Kim.

Han Si-woo starts fiddling with the zipper ring again.

Did you contact home?

Not yet.

Why?

Just because.

‘Just because’ is usually the most complicated reason.

What about you?

Me?

Did you call someone?

If I had someone to call back home, I probably wouldn’t be here.

A-47. Interview room two.

Good luck.

It’s only an interview.

Interviews here are a little strange too.

Inside are a desk and two chairs. A woman sits on the far side. Black suit. Graying hair pulled into a short ponytail. A scar runs across the left side of her face. She looks nothing like the bright people in advertisements.

Ms. Kim.

Sit.

I’m Yoon Seo-jin, recruitment officer for the Ironpiercer Temporary Seoul Branch.

I’m Kim Min-hee.

Yes.

Your physical condition is poor.

Yes.

Low strength. Poor nutritional status.

You’ll need native-level language ability, so if you proceed with neural imprinting, we’ll have to use English-language data.

Yes.

You applied for field work with higher hazard pay.

Yes.

Why did you apply to our company?

I want my mom to eat properly.

That reason alone won’t keep you going for long.

What?

Many people come because they want to feed someone. Parents. Siblings. Children. Debt. Medical bills. Ration rights.

Those people often break the fastest.

Why?

People who come in clinging to a single calculation tend to fall apart when the field doesn’t go according to plan.

You may come to earn money and have no time to spend it. You may come to save your family and never see them again.

Ms. Kim, you’re already classified as high risk.

Because of my physical condition?

That too. But you also have a habit of taking on more people than you can carry.

We are not a charity.

We are a security company. We are paid to protect people and facilities.

I know.

A lot of applicants don’t.

Is that so?

You don’t seem to know it either.

However, we try not to abandon people simply because they have no money. That got twisted into a strange rumor, and it’s become quite a headache for the company lately.

We are not kind, and we are not good. We sign contracts. We calculate costs. We calculate profit and loss.

She pauses and looks out the window.

But in the field, there are times when you have to act before the calculations are complete.

Then why not just move fast?

People who say that so easily usually die fast too.

That is why we called you here.

Why did you apply to our company, Ms. Kim?

As I said, I want my mom to eat.

And.

I think people like that need to be protected too.

What kind of people?

People who aren’t in the contract.

People without ration rights. People without names. People pushed aside because they have no money.

She places a thin terminal on the desk.

A long document appears.

ON SCREEN: IRONPIERCER CONDITIONAL PROBATIONARY FIELD AGENT CONTRACT.

Ms. Kim, you will be classified as a probationary field agent rather than a full field agent. Your duties will include field training and support work in New Haven. Depending on your performance or how quickly you adapt, the company may evaluate you and promote you to permanent status.

The base pay for probationary agents is not high. Hazard pay is calculated separately after field assignment and paid at the same rate full agents receive. Compensation for death or disappearance is paid according to the terms of the contract. However, unauthorized absence, refusal of orders, or reckless or intentional misconduct may disqualify you from compensation.

Voluntary return during the contract period is restricted. Your assignment may be changed at the company’s discretion. Emergency deployment outside your contracted region may also be required depending on conditions in the field.

We can transfer part of the advance payment to a designated family account immediately.

How much?

Yoon Seo-jin silently displays the amount.

You can send this immediately?

Once you sign and designate a recipient.

Today?

Yes.

Right now?

Yes.

A lot of applicants sign because they see only the money. Most regret it. I’ve seen many of them.

But the money is still transferred?

Yes.

Then that’s enough.

Do you mean that?

What?

From the moment you accept the money, Ms. Kim, you cannot run away. If you do, you become a criminal.

The advance payment is not a gift. It is closer to a debt. The company pays first, and you repay it through the contract period and field service.

I know.

You don’t look like you know.

I’m an adult now.

Ms. Kim.

Yes.

You don’t have to sign now. You may go home, discuss it with your guardian, and answer tomorrow.

I’ll do it now.

Don’t make an impulsive decision.

It isn’t impulsive.

You learned this morning that your guardian had been giving up her lunch ration, correct?

That appears there too?

It is included in the applicant background assessment.

That’s why I’m asking again.

Are you choosing this out of anger, or is it a decision?

A choice.

Then I’ll confirm one last time.

The last page of the contract appears.

Once you sign, the advance payment will be transferred immediately to the designated account. Withdrawal afterward may incur a penalty, and the procedure for your probationary field assignment in New Haven will begin.

Yes.

Are you sure you want to sign?

Min-hee takes the crumpled bills from her pocket.

She puts her finger on the signature field.

ON SCREEN: SIGNATURE - KIM MIN-HEE.

FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.

A new window opens: DESIGNATE THE RECIPIENT OF THE ADVANCE

KIM SU-JEONG - REGISTERED GUARDIAN ACCOUNT.

TRANSFER?

Min-hee presses the button.

TRANSFER COMPLETE.

She takes the terminal back.

Okay. You are now an Ironpiercer conditional probationary field agent, Ms. Kim.

Please wait in the waiting room for further instructions.

Min-hee's terminal rings as she stands and opens the door.

ON SCREEN: MOM.

The call ends. ONE MISSED CALL.

The screen goes dark.

The terminal rings again. MOM.

The second call disconnects. TWO MISSED CALLS. A message arrives: MIN-HEE. WHAT IS THIS MONEY? ANSWER THE PHONE.

The terminal rings a third time. Min-hee answers.

Min-hee.

Where are you?

Min-hee, where are you?

At the Ironpiercer branch.

You’re still there?

Yeah.

Is the examination over?

Yeah.

Then why didn’t you call me?

Min-hee.

Yeah.

What is this money?

An advance payment.

What advance payment?

Money they give you first if you sign a contract.

What contract?

Min-hee.

I signed.

Without telling me?

If I told you, you would say it was okay.

Send the money back.

I can’t.

Why?

I already signed.

Then withdraw.

There’s a penalty.

Then I’ll find a way.

How, Mom?

Her breathing stops on the other end.

Use that money to eat.

Mom, why do you always treat your body like something you can spend?

I’m sorry.

Don’t say you’re sorry.

Min-hee.

If you’re sorry, eat.

Use the money to eat. Stop giving up lunch. Stop saving money because it’s my birthday. Just eat.

Her breath trembles very softly.

I didn’t raise you so you could become someone who brings me money.

I know.

I don’t think you do.

I do.

Min-hee.

What if I don’t use the money?

I’ll send more.

Do you think money is that easy?

No.

Then why?

Because it’s still easier than watching you skip lunch.

When are you leaving?

I don’t know yet.

To New Haven?

Yeah.

It’s dangerous, isn’t it?

Yeah.

Are you scared?

A little.

I’ll eat.

Really?

Yes.

Lunch too?

Yes.

Tomorrow too?

Yes.

Next week too?

Min-hee.

Promise me.

I promise.

You promise too.

What?

Don’t get hurt.

Okay.

Min-hee.

Yeah.

I’m angry.

I know.

Very angry.

Yeah.

But.

But I’ll still eat.

Okay.

You have to answer your phone.

Okay.

And send messages often.

Okay.

Don’t hide things.

I’ll try.

All right.

Eat.

You too.

Okay.

The call ends, and the screen goes dark.

Min-hee returns to the waiting room. Han Si-woo looks up. More applicants are here now; one bites their nails while another keeps rereading the contract.

What happened?

I almost died talking to my mom.

That sounds rough.

Did you sign?

Yes.

Sent the money?

Yes.

Must be chaos at home.

Did you send yours too?

I sent it to myself.

To yourself?

Yeah. I need to clear my debts first.

After a while, the waiting-room door opens and an employee enters.

Conditional probationary field agents, please move to the briefing room.

What a filthy long title.

The briefing room is a little larger than the waiting room.

A large screen stands at the front. Chairs are arranged in rows. Six applicants sit with different numbers on their wrists.

The screen turns on: IRONPIERCER CONDITIONAL PROBATIONARY FIELD AGENT ORIENTATION.

The text crawls up from the bottom of the screen with exaggerated slowness. Even the employee clears his throat before it finally settles and the briefing begins.

We’ll now begin the basic orientation. Questions will be answered at the end.

ON SCREEN: POTENTIAL ASSIGNMENT - NEW HAVEN OUTER SETTLEMENT SUPPORT OPERATIONS TEAM.

The screen changes to PERSONAL AI ASSISTANT REGISTRATION - SELECT A DEFAULT CALL SIGN: NOVA / RANGER / BEACON / SENTINEL / GUARDIAN / KEEPER / MOTHER.

Repeat physical examinations begin tomorrow morning. An unfit result may restrict the use of certain equipment. The equipment compatibility assessment varies according to body type, reaction speed, and neural-imprinting stability.

This is starting to feel genuinely scary.

Be quiet.

I talk when I’m scared.

Personal AI assistants are used for field communications, operational records, biometric monitoring, and assisted equipment control. You may select a default call sign during registration. Changes to the call sign will be restricted afterward.

Which one should I choose?

I don’t know.

You may choose the call sign on your terminals. There is no functional difference between them.

Min-hee's eyes return to MOTHER. She selects it.

ON SCREEN: MOTHER - SELECTION COMPLETE. DEFAULT CALL SIGN REGISTERED.

I’m choosing Guardian.

It sounds sturdy.

ON SCREEN: BASIC VOICE SYNCHRONIZATION WILL TAKE PLACE BEFORE DEPARTURE.

Mother?

Why?

It doesn’t sound very strong.

It’s a strong name.

You’re right.

The employee moves on to the next slide.

Next is the tentative departure date.

Everyone looks at the screen.

Even Han Si-woo, slouched in his chair, goes still.

ON SCREEN: TENTATIVE DEPARTURE DATE FOR NEW HAVEN - THREE DAYS FROM NOW.

The tentative date may change according to field conditions and transport availability. At present, departure in three days is the most likely outcome.

A final line appears: THE APPLICANT MUST PERSONALLY NOTIFY THE REGISTERED GUARDIAN BEFORE DEPARTURE.

Three days of pre-departure procedures begin: repeat physical examinations, equipment fitting, compatibility tests, and field warnings.

Old mechanical arms hang from the ceiling above a white circle painted on the floor. Min-hee stands inside it with her arms raised and legs apart.

The arms attach thin patches to her shoulders, waist, wrists, and the back of her neck.

ON SCREEN: MOVE TO THE DESIGNATED STANDBY POINT IF COMMUNICATIONS ARE LOST.

ON SCREEN: MOVEMENT OUTSIDE THE CONTRACTED REGION REQUIRES APPROVAL FROM COMMAND.

ON SCREEN: INJURIES AND DEATH CAUSED BY FAILURE TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS MAY BE EXCLUDED FROM COMPENSATION.

The repeat examination still finds plenty below standard: insufficient strength, low nutritional status, recalibration of the artificial tooth recommended. One result exceeds the requirement: NEURAL-IMPRINTING STABILITY - EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH.

Don’t move.

I haven’t moved.

You’re trembling a little.

They look at us like broken refrigerators.

They told us to be quiet.

Refrigerators deserve the right to speak too.

Several faces appear on the selection screen. Men. Women. Older people. Younger people. None of them are smiling.

One woman catches Min-hee's eye: CATHERINE LOWELL.

Neural imprinting stores the language, field judgment, combat machine control data, and motor memories of a former agent born and raised on New Haven in a separate layer of the nervous system. It drastically reduces the required training period.

Your existing memories remain in the preservation layer, while the imprint data is stored separately. It can be called up as supporting memory when needed.

ON SCREEN: BORN ON NEW HAVEN. ENGLISH-SPEAKING HOUSEHOLD. BOTH ADOPTIVE PARENTS ALIVE. IRONPIERCER FIELD AGENT. COMBAT MACHINE CONTROL COMPATIBILITY: 94%.

64 OUTER-SETTLEMENT OPERATIONS COMPLETED. KILLED IN ACTION.

I’ll choose her.

Catherine Lowell. Do you select her as the source for integrated neural imprinting?

Yes.

Her data contains strong emotional residue. You may experience temporary emotional instability after imprinting.

Emotional instability?

Yes.

Responses vary. Since your neural- imprinting stability is high, your emotional response may also be strong. That can be either an advantage or a disadvantage.

Her memories won’t mix with mine?

An imprint is closer to the faint, half-remembered feeling left after watching a film. It has nothing to do with your own memories.

Oh. Okay.

Min-hee swallows a small white tablet. Cold patches are attached to her forehead, the back of her neck, and both temples. The chair reclines; a thin screen lowers in front of her eyes.

Try not to close your eyes.

The screen turns on. First, light. Then sound. Then smell: dust, oil, hot metal.

People speak in English. A grown man calls out: "Daughter."

A combat machine control stick. Vibration beneath a palm. Weight on the right foot. Recoil through the left shoulder.

A black shell bursts into view from the left. Catherine moves.

A dining table. A bright window. A tall man and a woman with her hair tied back. Catherine laughs. Someone embraces her.

An alarm. Black dust. A broken radio. Red lights inside a combat machine. The left leg will not move.

A voice shouts: "Catherine! Catherine, respond!"

Claws scrape across the combat machine's outer shell. The metal wall tears. The view tilts.

The image snaps to a hospital room, where Catherine lies in a bed as someone calls her name.

Min-hee screams. Tears run down the sides of her face as the imprint room comes back into view.

Ms. Kim, can you hear me? Ms. Kim?

The imprint ended a little early because of excessive emotional response.

Integrated neural imprinting complete. Language synchronization confirmed. Basic combat machine control data synchronized. Field- threat recognition patterns synchronized. Heart rate exceeds the stable range. Please regulate your breathing slowly.

Min-hee is crying in the chair. Her breathing is ragged.

(in English)

Shut up.