Monarch's practice room didn't look like a battlefield.White walls. Wooden floors. Mirrors stretching from one end to the other. A faint smell of coffee and floor polish.
But tonight, it was about to become one.
Jiwon stood in the center of the room, sleeves rolled to the elbows, blade disguised as a baton resting against the mirrors behind him. His eyes were hard, sharper than the overhead fluorescent lights. This wasn't the Jiwon the others were used to seeing—the stoic leader who hid smiles behind a hand or calmed the room with one word.
This was the hunter.
"Phones off. Water bottles down. Shoes tied," he said. "From now on, this room is for survival, not for rehearsal."
Kai raised a hand half-seriously. "So… no warm-up stretches?"
Jiwon didn't even blink. "You'll be stretching when you hit the floor."
Kai swallowed. "Copy that."
The First Lesson: Instinct
Jiwon started with Zayn. He tossed him a wooden practice knife.
Zayn caught it with clean reflexes, spinning it once in his palm like it was just another prop. "What do I do with this?"
"Defend yourself," Jiwon said flatly—and then moved.
No countdown. No signal. Just a blur of motion as Jiwon lunged. Zayn barely managed to block, wood clacking against Jiwon's strike. The impact rattled his arm.
"Too slow," Jiwon said, pulling back. "You think before you move. Don't think—react."
Zayn's jaw clenched. "You could've said 'ready' at least."
Jiwon's eyes narrowed. "Demons don't say 'ready.'"
The Chaos of Training
Kai went next. His attempt at defense turned into a half-cartwheel, half-dance spin that ended with him on the floor, laughing through his own pain.
"Okay, but that looked cool, right?" he grinned up at the others.
Jiwon pressed his lips together. "You're dead. Cool doesn't matter if you're dead."
Kai stuck out his tongue but picked himself up, determination behind the humor now.
EO struggled most. When Jiwon tried to grab him from behind, EO froze like a rabbit in headlights. It took Zayn shouting his name to snap him out of it. Afterward, EO sat against the wall, shaking.
"I'm not built for this," he whispered.
Jiwon crouched in front of him, voice low. "Neither am I. No one is. But you learn. Or you die. And I don't plan on burying any of you."
That silenced the room.
Min's Awakening
Then came Min. Quiet, hesitant Min.
Jiwon circled him, testing. A faint glimmer of light sparked in the mirror beside them, like static. When Jiwon struck, Min moved—not with speed, but with uncanny timing, sidestepping an instant before contact, as if he felt the attack coming.
Jiwon's blade stopped an inch from his throat.
The others gasped. Min just stared at the floor, trembling. "I… I don't know how I did that."
Jiwon sheathed the blade. His expression was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes. Recognition.
"You're not just waking up," Jiwon said softly. "Your blood remembers."
Min shivered.
Aftermath
By the end of the night, everyone was drenched in sweat. Their bodies ached. Their hands were red from blocking wooden strikes, their lungs burning from drills Jiwon barked at them like a drill sergeant.
But beneath the exhaustion, something else settled in their chests: the first taste of readiness.
EO leaned against Kai, half-asleep. Zayn sat cross-legged, tossing the wooden knife from hand to hand like it was already an extension of him. Min kept staring at his reflection, like he didn't trust it.
And Jiwon?
He stood at the door, arms crossed, watching his brothers like a hawk. For the first time in years, he wasn't just an idol. He wasn't just their leader.
He was their shield. Their weapon. Their teacher.
And he swore, silently, that he would make them ready—before the shadows came again.