The clouds consumed everything.
Thick gray and dark, rolling like a raging sea across the sky, swallowing light, swallowing air, swallowing the world itself.
Thunder cracked overhead—sharp, violent, splitting the heavens.
Lightning tore through the darkness in jagged white lines that burned the sky for half a heartbeat before darkness swallowed it again.
Strong winds pushed and pulled at everything below, an endless sea of chaos that howled through the canopy, bending trees until they groaned, snapping branches that fell like broken bones, tearing leaves free and scattering them into the storm.
The rain came down in sheets.
Cold.
Heavy.
Relentless.
It hammered the forest, turned the ground to slick mud, made the world a blur of gray and black and green.
The trees swayed.
Groaned.
Some fell—crashing down with wet, thunderous thuds, breaking apart, hitting the mud with sounds like cannon fire.
---
*Clump.*
*Clump.*
Footsteps swallowed by the mud.
Feet sinking deep.
Then bursting free with each stride, splashing thick dark earth everywhere.
Heavy breathing.
Ragged.
Desperate.
Clothes black and soaked through, clinging to skin.
Red cheeks.
Eyes that had seen the darkest of hells.
Two shadows ran through the forest, through the noise, through the chaos.
Green and black bags strapped to their backs, filled with stones that pulled at their shoulders, dragged at their spines, made every step heavier than the last.
The first shadow: tall, baggy eyes sunken and hollow, silky black hair plastered to a gaunt face, lips dried and cracked, body trembling with exhaustion that went bone-deep.
The second shadow: petite, short, brown hair turned black with rain and sweat, pale skin flushed red and raw where the wet fabric rubbed, hazel-green eyes wide and glassy and unfocused.
The wind screamed like a thousand souls ripping through the trees.
And these two shadows followed.
Far but not too far.
Ahead of them, a red tracksuit flashed between the trunks—pale skin untouched by the storm, blood-red lips perfectly painted, black ponytail whipping in the wind but never coming loose, running through the sea of darkness and chaos like it didn't exist, like the rain and thunder and collapsing world were nothing at all.
The rain grew heavier.
And heavier.
Until it wasn't rain anymore but violence falling from the sky.
---
Ha Joon looked up.
The rain fell on his face.
Cold.
Endless.
Droplets hitting his skin, running down his forehead, his nose, his chin.
He stared at it.
Hypnotized.
Mesmerized.
The way it fell.
One drop.
Then another.
Then another.
Endless.
The rain shifted.
Changed.
Became water falling from a showerhead.
White room.
Tile walls.
Tile floor.
Steam rising.
Ha Joon stood there, staring at the showerhead, watching the droplets fall in steady rhythm, unchanging, eternal.
Then the screams started.
Eun Byol's screams.
Sharp.
Broken.
Discordant like a melody torn apart.
*Crack.*
*Crack.*
*Crack.*
Her fingers snapping one by one, the sound echoing through the walls, bouncing off the tile, drilling into his skull.
Ha Joon blinked.
The shower was off now.
He stepped out.
Grabbed a towel from the rack.
Dried himself.
Mechanical.
Empty.
His hands moved but he didn't feel them.
He walked out into the next room.
Gray.
Dark even though there were lights.
The lights flickered.
On.
Off.
On.
Buzzing.
Dying.
He looked down.
Broken glass on the floor.
Sharp jagged pieces scattered everywhere, glinting weakly in the failing light.
He looked up.
The bottom bunk.
White sheets.
Laced with red.
Drops of blood falling from the edge of the mattress, dripping onto the floor in slow steady rhythm, pooling with the glass.
Eun Byol lay there.
Half her face visible.
Eyes closed.
At peace.
Tears dried on her cheeks.
Sleeping.
Or dead.
Ha Joon screamed.
Sharp.
Agonized.
Raw.
---
Thunder struck.
The sound exploded through the forest, shaking the ground, vibrating through the mud, through the roots, through the bones of the earth itself.
Ha Joon's feet hit the ground.
*Clump.*
Mud splashed.
Black shoes collided with roots, with stones, with fallen branches slick and dangerous.
He ran.
Eun Byol ran beside him.
Consumed by chaos.
The storm roared around them—wind tearing at their clothes, rain lashing their faces like needles, lightning flashing overhead in blinding bursts that turned the world white for half a second before plunging it back into darkness.
Eun Byol's wrists were wrapped in bandages.
White fabric soaked through with rain and mud, clinging to her skin.
Her face was sadness.
Confusion.
Mostly acceptance.
She ran toward the red tracksuit ahead.
Always ahead.
Never stopping.
Never slowing.
Never looking back.
The bags on their backs pulled at them, stones shifting with every step, weighing them down, dragging them toward the mud.
But they ran.
And ran.
The storm raged.
The forest screamed.
Thunder cracked.
Lightning flashed.
Trees fell.
And they ran.
Into the darkness.
Into the chaos.
Into the endless consuming storm.