The massive steel door remained motionless, like the lips of a god of oblivion sealed shut in eternal silence. Despite Ji-dam's attempts to breach it using every hacking tool at his disposal, not even the faintest electrical current could be detected—let alone any digital signals. Only the countless screams and whispers of memories flowing endlessly from the door, their intense 'echoes,' pierced sharply into Do-yoon's nerves.

"Damn it, this isn't... just a lump of metal. It feels like something alive," Ji-dam muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Do-yoon examined the torn fragments of No Min-su's notebook once more. While there was no direct mention of how to open the entrance to the 'Core Repository,' his eyes caught a strange spiral pattern drawn alongside the phrase 'realm of sleeping gods.' Below the pattern, written in tiny letters, was a sentence: 'Existence is proven through memory, and memory leads to resonance.'

'Resonance...' A memory flashed through Do-yoon's mind like lightning. The 'memory resonance frequency' he had once researched with his former lover, Ha-yoon. Ha-yoon believed that specific emotions or intense memories possessed unique wavelengths, and when these wavelengths resonated with each other, memory transfer or sharing might become possible. At the time, he had dismissed it as a preposterous theory, but...

"Ji-dam, what if... a very specific 'emotion' or 'memory' itself could be the key to opening this door?"

Ji-dam stared at Do-yoon as if he'd lost his mind. "Memory as a key? What is this, some sci-fi movie? But... in this insane place, I suppose it's possible."

Do-yoon closed his eyes and focused his consciousness on the countless 'echoes' flowing from the door. He began to recall the memories buried deepest within himself, one by one. The despair of losing his sister So-ra, the exhilaration of restoring someone's memory for the first time, and... the warmth of moments spent laughing with Ha-yoon.

His neural chip vibrated subtly as the waves of his emotions and memories spread outward. At first, there was no change. But the moment Do-yoon channeled his intense fury about 'erasure' along with his desperate determination to 'recover all forgotten beings' into the memory waves, the massive steel door began to tremble ever so slightly.

"This is... really happening?" Ji-dam's eyes widened.

A faint light began to seep through the door's cracks, and soon, with a tremendous roar, the heavy door slowly began to open inward—as if responding to Do-yoon's memories.

The scene beyond the door defied description in human language. It was a space of endless light. No physical walls or ceiling were visible; instead, millions upon millions of memories floated through the air like twinkling stars or were condensed within massive crystal pillars, emanating light in every color imaginable. It was like a vast ocean of consciousness where every memory lived and breathed.

At the center of this space, like the heart of all these memories, sat a massive spherical 'Central Core' that pulsed rhythmically. From the core flowed waves of light that seemed to continuously birth new memories while others appeared to fade away.

"This is... the Core Repository..."

Do-yoon could barely breathe in the face of such an overwhelming sight. As he took a step toward the 'Central Core,' countless memories of the 'erased' began flooding into his mind like a torrent, regardless of his will. Chef Moon Ga-hyeon's final recipe, Detective Oh Chan-woo's incomplete investigation records, Writer Baek Su-min's last sentence, and even No Min-su's dying screams.

Their lives, their emotions, their very existence came vividly alive within Do-yoon's consciousness. And he realized the truth. 'Erasure' wasn't simply data deletion or purification. Selected specific memories were absorbed here, into the 'Central Core,' to be used as an energy source to maintain and strengthen the mainnet system—like an ancient ritual offering souls as sacrifice.

Amidst the fragments of flooding memories, Do-yoon felt a brief but intense 'echo'—one so familiar and beloved...

'Ha-yoon...?'

Her final smile, and her eyes filled with inexplicable sadness. It was the lingering resonance of the last memory she had left behind just before her 'erasure.' She too had been connected to this place, the 'Core Repository,' in some way.

'At the end of Act 1, it's revealed that the missing person is his beloved 'Ha-yoon.'' The line from the setting collection struck his mind like a thunderbolt. Now, that prophecy was about to become reality.

Like a man possessed, Do-yoon staggered toward the 'Central Core,' following Ha-yoon's faint 'echo.'

"Jin Do-yoon! It's dangerous! If you get any closer...!" Ji-dam shouted urgently, but his voice didn't reach him.

The moment Do-yoon fully entered the sphere of influence of the 'Central Core,' an explosive wave of energy erupted from it. Along with blinding light, the core's memories and Do-yoon's memories began to clash and intermingle violently. Excruciating pain, as if his neural chip were burning from overload, pierced through his entire body.

"Aaaaaargh!"

With Do-yoon's scream, visions of the past swept before his eyes like a panorama. His forgotten childhood self, and... the face of his sister Jin So-ra, once hazy as fog, now appeared with startling clarity. So-ra was shouting something urgently at him. But her voice couldn't be heard.

'No... my memories are... disappearing... no, they're getting mixed up...!'

Do-yoon felt himself losing the thread of consciousness, being sucked into darkness. His very existence was on the verge of being consumed by this vast ocean of memory.