"…The youngest has disappeared."

"Where to?"

"Who knows? Maybe they turned off the game?"

If there is a place where someone who didn’t exist suddenly appears, there must be a place where someone who used to be there disappears.

Through the Dark Zone, two worlds are closely linked. However, the mission carried out at the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant in-game has taken a drastically different form from the operation that actually occurred in the past, and the vibration bomb didn’t even detonate.

The past has been completely overlaid with something new, and thus the two timelines have entered into a second synchronization—but no one in this world, including the Dagger Team, who had just been playing the game with Yujin, could know this fact.

As the blinding light that felt like it would blind him faded, Yujin was gone.

Instead—

"It seems that those who can tell us the whereabouts of the youngest have appeared."

Two indistinct figures emerged in front of the Dagger Team.

A hazy shape from head to toe. It looked as if a blur had been painted in midair. However, a surprisingly thin voice squeezed through the haze.

And Logan's words were not wrong.

"They will be back soon. Don’t worry. Right now, they must be enjoying a pleasant reunion."

"A reunion? With whom?"

"With all of you."

A moment of silence followed.

However, no one there was so oblivious as to listen blankly. The fact that Yujin had disappeared and the implication that they had gone to meet the Dagger Team. A pleasant reunion… what that meant was clearer than expected, and Owens smirked and added.

"You're saying that the Dagger Team is without the youngest."

"Exactly."

And there was no one present who didn’t understand what that meant.

The next to speak was Lorentina.

"They're probably all jumping for joy."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I was the same. I was probably even more so than the other version of myself in that world."

It was a logic and reason typical of her, but it wasn’t entirely wrong.

They, too, carried many memories and knew better than anyone the grief and sorrow felt when Yujin had gone missing—at the same time, a hologram turned on in front of everyone. It was showing in real time what kind of situation Yujin was in.

Two people were crying out in tears in Yujin’s arms, while behind them, someone with a bittersweet smile was pondering who they should contact about this situation…

"…I feel like I've seen this person before. Mr. Polar Bear, please recite something."

"That’s the construction brigade commander, you fool. Anyone who just wanders around the under-construction safety camp would see them…."

"Can we please stop this low-level conversation?"

With Owens's sharp retort, the conversation between the two ended.

It fell quiet again, but they didn’t open their mouths once more. Watching the flustered expression on the youngest through the screen was genuinely entertaining. Right now, Yujin, hugged by the two, was looking at them with a face that seemed to ask, "How long are you going to cry…?"

Of course, as the crying continued for over ten minutes, the three just sat on the floor, waiting for it to end. It was perfectly understandable that their other selves in that world would react like that, but the three watching the scene had long since gone through that situation.

Having been stuck together for almost three weeks in America, the initial feelings were bound to fade.

However, apart from that—

"It’s a bit disappointing to see it end like this, but judging by the current situation, it seems we won’t be able to return for a while. Let’s head out first. There’s afternoon training. See you later."

"Go ahead."

"I’ll take my leave. Please say hi to Yujin for me."

"Do it yourself, senior officer."

With that, he turned his head.

The two vague figures remained standing still. Their outlines were so blurred that it was hard to recognize them, but it was at least in human shape, and as shown by the previous instance, they could communicate sufficiently— and the reason they appeared against this suspicious backdrop was roughly inferred.

"You’re the ones who returned our youngest home, right?"

"That’s correct."

"Let’s say thanks."

And then there was a brief silence.

"But that doesn’t mean I trust you. I don’t have a hobby of trusting people whose affiliations and backgrounds I know nothing about."

"I understand."

"I hope we can continue to have a good relationship."

With those words, Lorentina vanished as if melting into the air.

Owens similarly looked at the two with a similar feeling before going through the logout process—when Logan was left alone, he leaned against the wall, looking at the blurred figures and continued speaking.

"So, what’s next?"

"We would appreciate it if you could specify what you mean."

"Literally."

A moment of silence.

Then Logan added.

"I know that these missions follow the past of the Dagger Team linearly, but this must end with the events at the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant. What comes next?"

A short silence.

Now it was their turn to respond.

"From now on, it depends on what you do. That goes for the world over there as well. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing."

"Why?"

A small breath.

Although not easily visible, Logan felt that the faces of the blurred figures seemed to be smiling. At the same time, various notifications popped up in front of him—the Los Angeles campaign, San Francisco, and the Sacramento reclamation battle.

That was not the end. Missions leading through Canada to Alaska, such as Seattle and Vancouver, were also listed there.

But this too could not be said to be the end.

"And next, we are planning Dark Zone 2.0."

At the same time, a window appeared, obscuring all the pop-ups that had been appearing until now.

Dark Zone 2.0. And next to it was the text "WW3."

Hearing that, he continued.

"The results of the engagement will be directly reflected in the other world, but you don’t need to worry. Numerous unidentified operators who neither die nor come back to life will engage repeatedly."

"Hah."

Logan let out a short laugh, incredulous.

What that meant was that the countless operators who neither die nor come back to life would be the players of the Dark Zone, and that they would help in reclaiming Canada and Alaska in the other world and participate in World War III thereafter.

It was indeed an absurd thought.

But he couldn’t help but laugh.

"So does that mean the ending of this 2.0 thing is that the name of the United States will change to the Earth Union?"

"That would depend on how things go in the other world."

"That means the one deciding the ending isn’t over there."

Hearing such an important thing while being left alone, Logan muttered to himself for a moment and then added.

"Well, I guess that’s something to think about when the time comes."

"Safe travels."

And as those words were said, the moment Logan vanished, the two figures also disappeared.

Only silence remained in that place.

Meanwhile,

'How long do I have to keep doing this…?'

Yujin was stuck without being able to give any prior explanation, held by Lorentina and Logan, in the Icarus HQ, the space that used to be his room.

The sight of the devastated New York, which he hadn't seen in a long time, was both familiar and horrific.

It was winter.

"Wow, they really threw everything away. No, did they burn it all…?"

It was truly a long-awaited return.

While referring to reality… it felt a bit ambiguous to say reality. It was somewhat unclear to discuss what was my reality, but anyway, having returned to America, which had once been dead after spending a long time at my original home in Hongje-dong, felt remarkably nostalgic.

It was my room but not my room. I heard that all the various bits and bobs I had left there were burned during what they called a funeral that wasn’t a funeral. While the MG338 and MK18 were already gone since I had taken them with me, my personal gun cabinet was already completely empty.

Of course, I could return anytime if I wanted. If I sent a text to those who had brought me here through the Icarus gear, I could go back home again.

I wonder how long I’ll stay here.

'…I should probably take care of the virus removal before anything else.'

If I happen to bring something contaminated back home and the virus spreads, it would lead to a global pandemic that would be far beyond what the word disaster could describe.

The previous cases where a virus spread between countries and continents, which originally did not exist, kept reminding me that I needed to be extra cautious.

In any case, it had been a long time.

New York, which used to be bustling with people, was a place I had recently been for about three weeks, but this was different. Memories of the past could be forgotten so easily. The things I learned through experience were completely the opposite of being impossible to forget.

At least, it was a relief that the power was coming in abundantly. After all, the Icarus gear was like a moving nuclear fusion reactor. Specifically, it was capable of generating immense power through reaction materials. By roughly applying that technology, it could produce semi-perpetual power.

In short, it meant that the lights could be turned on well, and the heating worked properly.

The field bed was still the same, though.

"Ah, it’s been a while since I lay down on this bed…."

Fortunately, it seemed they hadn’t cleaned the bed separately.

A bed with a hole to tuck in the tail. As I felt around with my hand, I could immediately guess it was the mattress I used. However, the ceiling was still concrete with pipes running through it. What should I say, it felt really strange to be back here.

It reminded me of when I first came to New York. It was so cold that I couldn’t digest food properly, and after carelessly entering the empty house, I ended up vomiting while holding onto the bathroom. After trembling under the blankets, I fell asleep, and because of hypothermia, I barely managed to light a fire, sobbing while warming myself up…

What should I say, as I resurrected these memories, I suddenly felt sleepy.

Now that I think about it, if I have to stay here for a few days, I should announce a hiatus, but what should I do…?

…

…

───Knock, knock, knock!

"Ugh, what is it? You can come in."

I had dozed off.

It seemed about 30 minutes had passed. My mouth felt a bit damp. I felt a little ridiculous for drooling while sleeping. I wondered if I had a constitution that allows me to sleep anywhere, or if I had relaxed enough to fall asleep just because I was back at my second home.

As I wiped the drool from my mouth and said they could come in, the door lock opened, and two familiar figures entered. They looked as if they had been crying over my gear, with their eyes all swollen.

As expected, a hug attack followed immediately upon their arrival. The smell of dirt and dust wafted from them. Having spent so much time with Dice and Harmony, I had become so accustomed to perfume scents that this raw scent felt strangely nostalgic.

Anyway, this time, thankfully, no one cried.

"Did everyone do well while I was gone?"

"…So, asking if we did well, how about you?"

"I'm sorry."

Of course, I didn’t push anyone when the ceiling collapsed, but anyway, I had been the one covering the rear.

I had wondered if they would throw me a playful punch, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. A playful punch from these people would really hurt. I would have likely cried without dignity if I got hit properly.

In any case, after that was a time for conversation. Mainly, it revolved around what everyone had done during my absence. Since we had been together for four years, the founding members of the Dagger Team all knew that I was someone who came from another world, making such conversations possible.

Anyway, it was my turn to ask this time.

"While I was gone, nothing happened, right?"

"…Nothing happened. It was completely uneventful."

Literally.

Nothing happened.

However, it was not the peaceful situation I thought it was - it meant that the Dagger Team's operations had come to a halt. The Dagger Team, who had always played the role of the firefighter when Icarus was in the most critical condition and had accomplished significant operations, had stopped because of my death.

Naturally, the repercussions couldn’t be insignificant. The planned operations had been suspended for at least a month, and in that time, Los Angeles and San Francisco were embroiled in constant chaos due to the Russian-Chinese coalition pushing down through Alaska and along the Canadian coast.

In the end, the Dagger Team headed for Los Angeles. In the meantime, the construction brigade commander, reluctant due to potential radiation leaks, had taken charge of the excavation at the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant, resulting in the discovery of an echo after digging. Two members from the Dagger Team were hurriedly dispatched to New York.

Those two were Logan and Lorentina.

"…So, what will we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we going back to the battlefield?"

Of course, that was not something easily answered.

Probably, the moment I answered that I had to go out, they would likely try to stop me vehemently and take away all my gear and weapons. And if it were me before touching the Dark Zone, I might have nodded, but now that was just nonsense.

However, today, I had a reason to not waver at this question.

"I have to go out."

"I figured as much. But no more…."

"But I don’t intend to go out directly."

At the same time, I manipulated the Icarus gear and displayed the operator registration list in midair.

Currently, there were about 120 active Icarus operators. Originally, there had been around 300, but many had been lost during the early stages of the crisis. Approximately 50 watches had been lost due to the owner's death and were untraceable.

But today was different.

-[Notification: Displaying results of the second world line synchronization.]

Chirrup.

An endless number of operators.

When talking about new incursion missions, thousands of frontline assault users would light up with excitement, and there would be hundreds of thousands of users who could at least attempt the incursion mission. These users would return time and again, crushing the enemies.

Probably, as soon as a new incursion mission based on the situation I couldn’t finish is released, an immortal legion of operators would flood into Los Angeles.

As the expressions of the two changed strangely at the never-ending numbers scrolling down, I smiled and added.

"We've received a lot of reinforcements from that world. It’s time for a proper counterattack."

In a few years, the American flag would likely be planted in Beijing and Moscow.