The house breathed around them, an old thing with wooden bones and long, yawning hallways that carried laughter like it was dust caught in sunlight. The lights inside were dimmed low, painting the walls in flickers of amber and shadow. Outside, wind stirred through tall grass and wilted garden beds, the branches tapping lightly against the window panes like they, too, wanted in.

It wasn’t a big party. Just a couple of some friends but mostly strangers this time.

Sullyoon stood near the open kitchen doorway, her fingers wrapped loosely around a half-finished drink. The glass was fogged from the cold, tiny droplets sliding down onto her knuckles. She hadn’t touched it in a while. The ice was starting to melt.

Haewon drifted in and out of the living room, bare feet silent against the wooden floorboards, a thin sweater hanging off one shoulder. She hummed a song no one recognized anymore, not even herself, and paused occasionally to adjust the vinyl playing in the corner, gentle jazz, warped at the edges.

They hadn’t talked much that evening. They didn’t need to. The quiet had become a familiar guest between them.

It had been weeks since the incident, weeks since that impossible, fractured night none of them could quite recall. Weeks since they woke up in their own homes, dazed, empty, and untouched, except for the quiet echo behind their eyes that something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

And yet, somehow, they still remembered each other. All seven of them. Faces intact. Names still there. The rhythm of familiarity untouched, like muscle memory.

They met often, at cafés, on walks, under flickering city lights. They joked, they texted. They lived, as if nothing had ever unraveled. As if MIXXTOPIA had only been a dream.

Only Sullyoon still heard the silence of space behind closed doors. Only she sometimes flinched when a light flickered too long or a voice on the phone lagged, mechanical and wrong.

And now, this house. This soft gathering of just three. The music, the drinks, the illusion of ease. Haewon twirled a bit of her hair, peering into the hallway.

“Did we invite anyone else?”she asked casually, more to herself than anyone else. Her tone was light, curious, almost lazy. Sullyoon lifted her eyes. She felt it before she saw her. That stillness in the air, the slight, almost imperceptible drop in pressure. Like the moment before a system shuts down.

There she was. The engineer had stepped inside like she belonged there, the porch door clicking softly behind her. She didn’t smile. She didn’t wave. She didn’t have to.

She looked the same. Familiar, known. Like the scent of old metal and worn leather. Like forgotten heat on the back of Sullyoon’s neck. Her silhouette bled into the low light. Nothing dramatic, nothing strange. Just another girl at a party.

But to Sullyoon, it was like the black box of the past had split open. The console lights. The low hum of the engine choking on itself. Her own gloved hand reaching, slipping, grasping at the engineer just as the alarms had begun to scream.

And then: nothing.

Haewon’s voice cut through the silence, cheerful and unaware.“Oh, hey!”she called out with a smile, already walking toward her.“You made it! We weren’t sure if you’d come.”

There was no tension in her voice. No fear. Just the easy affection of someone welcoming a friend. Because that’s what the engineer was. A friend. She had always been.

She had completely forgotten about their goal of reaching MIXXTOPIA.

Sullyoon didn’t move. Her drink had gone warm in her hand, the glass slick with condensation. She watched the way Haewon’s arms reached for a hug. The way the engineer stepped into it naturally. No hesitation. No hint of memory.

But Sullyoon’s fingers trembled.

Because beneath her skin, in the deep place where sound used to live, she could still hear the countdown. The static. The scream that never made it out of her mouth. And now the engineer was back in the room. Smiling like none of it ever happened. She knew that they were still friends and she knew not all of it was completely her fault but she still didn't fully trust her

Like space had never opened its jaws to swallow them whole. Sullyoon blinked. Swallowed the burn in her throat. She said nothing. She only watched. And somewhere, far away inside her mind, the stars pulsed like open wounds.

Suddenly then Sullyoon remembered the moment the engineer had come up to her. When she showed her the blueprint of the new ship she was planning to build. The way she seemed so desperate to prove her role as the engineer.

Then when Haewon got a bit further away, Sullyoon also reached in for a hug. And when her lips got close enough to her ears, she breathed out, her breath heavy and her voice quiet.“This time, don't fail.”