The rain had stopped, but the storm hadn't left.Lee Rang and Seo-rin sat in silence, their clothes still clinging damp against their skin, the faint smell of rainwater hanging between them. The room hummed with a fragile stillness—too thin, too breakable.
Seo-rin's eyes flicked toward him in the dim light, searching for something she would never admit.Her lips parted before she could stop herself."Why do you keep standing between me and death? You don't even know me."
Rang leaned back against the cracked wall, his jaw tight, eyes unreadable."Maybe I don't need to."
The words lingered in the air like smoke, curling into her chest. She looked away quickly, but the heat in her throat betrayed her.
The candle between them sputtered, shadows flickering across their faces. A single strand of Seo-rin's hair slipped loose, clinging to her cheek. Rang reached out without thinking, brushing it back with a touch too careful for someone who claimed not to care.
For a moment, the world was quiet.For a moment, it was just them.
Elsewhere.
Steel doors shut with a hollow clang.President Han walked calmly down the corridor of the detention wing, flanked by two guards. His face carried no fear, no anger—only the faint smile of a man who knew something no one else did.
They locked him inside, iron bars sealing the chamber.Han sat on the bench, folding his hands in his lap, eyes fixed on the cracks in the concrete wall as though he were staring through them.
On the table beside him lay the few items taken from his home—his watch, a pen, a single photograph folded at the corner, and a keychain etched with deep numbers: 404.
Han's fingers grazed the metal, and his smile deepened."She thinks she's safe," he murmured, voice low, dangerous. "But safety was never hers to keep."
The lights above flickered. Even the prison seemed to shiver.
Back at Rang's shelter.
The quiet had begun to feel unnatural.Seo-rin tugged the blanket closer, her eyes refusing to meet his. Rang paced near the broken window, every nerve on edge.
Then—A thud.Too heavy for wind.
Before he could react, the glass shattered inward. Black cloth. Masks. Shadows with no names.
Seo-rin gasped as rough hands closed over her mouth. Rang lunged forward, knocking one figure back, but another slammed into him, driving him hard against the floor. The world spun, his breath ripped from his chest.
A needle gleamed.Pain sliced his arm.
The last thing he saw was Seo-rin struggling, her eyes wide with terror before darkness swallowed them both.
Silence fell. The room lay in ruins.Only the candle guttered weakly on the table, flame bending against the draft—until even that, too, died.
"They thought the storm was over. But storms don't end in silence—sometimes, they end in someone else's hands."