Equinox's dorm was dark, except for the glow of the massive TV screen mounted on the wall.
The arena lights filled the room in bursts of crimson and gold. The sound of Monarch's performance rattled the speakers, every bass hit vibrating through the floor.
Juno leaned against the arm of the couch, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. "They're not holding back."
Rien's eyes were glued to the screen. "It's more than not holding back. They're… staking territory."
The five figures of Monarch moved like fire incarnate—sweat, smoke, precision. Each verse landed with the weight of a hammer, each chorus an explosion.
Then Jiwon stepped into his solo bridge.
The room shifted.
Yul hadn't spoken since the performance began. He sat forward, elbows braced on his knees, eyes burning like they were mirroring the stage fire.
On the screen, Jiwon's voice rumbled low, the kind of growl that felt too close, too intimate:
"I was forged in fire, raised by war—Every wound I take just builds me more."
Yul's breath caught.He could feel it. That heat. That bite. That defiance.
The other members noticed.
"Hyung," Kairi said softly, cautious. "You're—"
But Yul didn't hear him. His fingers had curled tight against his thighs, as if holding himself in place. His pupils were blown wide, drinking in every second of Jiwon's body, his voice, his defiance.
When Jiwon's hand lifted toward the camera, curling into a fist like he was pulling the entire world into his grip, Yul whispered under his breath:
"…mine."
The others froze.
The final chorus hit. Sparks lit the stage. Monarch's voices thundered together in unison:
"We rise, we fight, we TAKE YOU DOWN!"
The screen shook with fire. The crowd's screams came through like a storm.
And then silence.The ending pose.Five kings carved out of flame.
The broadcast cut to commercials, but the silence in Equinox's dorm remained heavy.
Rien finally exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "That… wasn't just a performance."
"No," Juno agreed, his voice tight. "That was a warning."
Kairi glanced at Yul. "…And?"
Yul leaned back slowly, finally tearing his eyes from the blank TV screen. He dragged a hand through his hair, his chest still rising too quickly.
His lips curved, not into a smirk—something darker. Something hungrier.
"They've gotten stronger." His voice was low, velvet, dangerous."Good."
Rien frowned. "Good?"
Yul closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the couch. "Because now I don't just want to fight him."His hand curled into a fist."I want to burn with him."