Stellar Sync: BTS in the New Era

The corridors of the Federation base hummed with cold precision, the lights casting sterile patterns across polished metal floors. Lyra stood perfectly still in the observation chamber, her hands behind her back and eyes fixed on the distant expanse of stars outside the viewport. But within her, something was unraveling. It had started after the last encounter with BTS. The song they released lingered in her mind, quiet but relentless, like a memory refusing to die.

She had listened to it in secret. Not once, but again and again. The rhythm stirred something unidentifiable deep inside her, a feeling she couldn't explain. Each note chipped away at the wall the Federation had built around her thoughts.

"Agent Void," a voice called from the terminal screen behind her. Councilor Drevin's image flickered to life, his face pale and unreadable as ever. "Report."

Lyra turned slowly, her voice even. "The fugitives released a second melody. Spread patterns exceeded predicted models. Civilian unrest has increased in ten sectors. Counter-signals failed to contain the emotional spike."

Drevin narrowed his eyes slightly. "Your emotional stability rating dropped by three percent. Are you compromised?"

She paused, then answered, "Current levels are within functional range."

Drevin leaned in. "They are getting into your head. You need to act before your programming fractures."

She nodded, stiffly. "Understood."

When the transmission ended, she walked out of the chamber in silence. Her boots echoed down the long corridor, each step perfectly measured. She passed a group of trainees who saluted her out of fear more than respect. Her presence was a weapon, and they had been taught to fear what made no sound.

Inside her quarters, the lights dimmed automatically. The space was bare, lifeless. No personal items, no color. Just gray walls and a single mirror.

Lyra sat down on the floor and closed her eyes. That was when the visions returned. A stage. A spotlight.

Her voice soared in a place filled with light and warmth. Laughter. A song. People are calling her name. Not "Agent Void." Something else. Something human.

She opened her eyes quickly. Her heart pounded.

"What was that?" she whispered.

Rising, she approached the mirror. Her reflection stared back. The sharp lines of the uniform, the blank expression she had mastered. But her eyes… her eyes were wet. She was crying. She raised a hand slowly, touching her cheek. The tears were real.

The next moment, her hands were already at the console. She keyed into the Federation database and searched her own name. "Lyra Void" came up, listed under agent class, enforcement designation, and memory seal protocols. Below, a redacted section blinked in muted red.

Her fingers hesitated, then moved. She tried her override code. It failed. Then she stopped. And she hummed. One single note.

The console glitched for a second, and then the sealed files opened. She stared at the name that appeared on the screen.

Lyra Eun. Not an agent. Not a soldier. Civilian. Artist. Vocalist. Registered on Terranova. She had volunteered for a memory wipe following the death of a family member. Her brother.

Her legs gave out. She dropped to the floor, stunned. Her name. Her past. Her voice. She had given them up.

There was a video. She pressed play.

It showed her sitting across from a Federation official. She was younger, alive in a way she no longer remembered. Her hands fidgeted in her lap.

"If I forget the pain," she asked, "will I be able to keep going?"

The man nodded. "You will feel nothing. You will become useful. You will never break again."

She stared at the screen. She remembered now.

Her brother had died from an illness. She had sung to him every night. It was the only thing that brought him comfort. After his passing, the silence became unbearable.

She had begged for them to take the memories away. And they did. But not forever.

The song BTS released… it brought them back.

There was a soft knock at her door.

Commander Ysen stepped inside without waiting. "Councilor Drevin has summoned you to the War Command. The Silencer Protocol is ready for deployment."

She stood, slowly. "What will it do?"

"Erase all musical and emotional signatures from the affected sectors. Permanently. No resonance. No memory. No risk."

She said nothing, but her fingers brushed the bracelet hidden under her sleeve. A small charm dangled from it, shaped like a music note. She had kept it without understanding why.

Now it pulsed against her wrist, like a heartbeat.

She followed him to the War Chamber. Councilor Drevin stood in the center, surrounded by glowing panels and emotionless aides.

"Prepare to launch the Protocol," he said without looking up.

Lyra walked to the main console. Her hand hovered over the activation button.

She heard her brother's laugh. She heard her own voice singing. She heard BTS's song again, echoing inside her. And she stepped back.

"No," she said softly.

The room turned silent.

Drevin's head rose sharply. "Repeat that, Agent Void."

She stood taller now. "I am compromised. I will not launch it."

His expression hardened. "You were created for obedience."

"No," she said again. "I was erased. But I am not gone."

He reached toward the console. Lyra moved. The charm at her wrist lit up, and a shockwave of sound burst from her body. The room trembled. The consoles sparked. Officers shouted.

She turned and ran, ignoring their cries. Security chased her through the metallic halls. But she was already faster. Stronger. Her voice pulsed within her, guiding her like a second heartbeat.

Her path was clear now. She was not an agent. Not anymore. She was a voice that had been silenced.

And it was time to be heard.