Chapter 4

March 4, 2029

Incheon International Airport, Korea

The wheels hit the runway with a jolt that rippled the floor, jerking us all slightly forward. For a moment, no one moved. We just looked at each other; tired, pale, unsure if we were supposed to feel relief yet. Then the plane slowed, shuddered, and the engines began to cool down. We'd made it. The cargo door opened slowly, and the first thing that hit me was the light. It wasn't bright, just normal daylight, but after an hour in a windowless hold, it felt like stepping into the afterlife. The second thing that hit me was the cold breeze. It was colder than Nagasaki this time of year. It wrapped around my arms and face, clearing some of the haze from my mind. I followed the line of people out of the plane, blinking hard against the daylight. Soldiers in Korean uniforms stood waiting outside on the runway, their expressions neutral but not unkind. They directed us with basic Japanese, pointing us toward buses that had already begun lining up along the edge of the runway.

We were led into the terminal, past shuttered storefronts, closed gates, and rows of chairs stripped bare. The place had been repurposed. Emergency signs were pasted over old advertisements. Some announcements were played in Korean and Japanese, but they were drowned out by the shuffle of feet and the buzz of confusion. A soldier handed a bottle of water. I took them, nodded, and kept moving. Eventually, I found myself on a bus, window open, seats filled with people who looked just as hollowed out as I felt. The driver didn't speak to us. He just started the engine, and we pulled out of the airport, heading toward the countryside. I saw a sign at the entrance of the airport. "Incheon International Airport." We're in Seoul. We're safe.