The dorm was unusually still for five boys who rarely stopped moving. No laughter, no jokes bouncing between walls. Just quiet. The quiet of too many thoughts replaying the same night.
Jiwon broke it.
"Practice room. Now."
There was no argument this time. They followed — half-asleep, half-restless, all bruised in ways that didn't show.
The practice room smelled of sweat and old speakers. Guitars leaned in corners, wires tangled like veins. It felt more honest than any stage.
Zayn powered on the console. The hum filled the silence.Kai sat cross-legged on the floor with his notebook.EO adjusted the mic, his fingers fidgeting.Min curled into the couch, hood pulled up, knees hugged tight.
Jiwon leaned against the piano. His voice was low, firm."We're not running from this. We turn it into music. Into something that reminds us who we are."
Kai's pencil scratched across the page. "We rise even when shadows fall…"
EO hummed a note, soft but strong:
불 속에서도 난 살아 (Even in fire, I live).
Zayn's guitar answered with a riff sharp enough to cut the air.
Min lifted his head. His voice was rough, but steady:
Our scars are golden, not chains.
The room shifted. The heaviness bent into something else.
Together, line by line, beat by beat, Monarch started to build their anthem.
The beat pulsed first, slow at first — like a heartbeat recovering after a shock. Then Zayn doubled it, fast and jagged, each strum of the guitar cutting tension into rhythm. The room vibrated, shadows bouncing against the walls, and for the first time since the demon attack, the weight of fear was transformed into energy.
Jiwon tapped the piano keys lightly, counting. "Start with the hook. Something sharp. Something that hits the gut."
Kai scribbled fiercely:
Burn it down, we rise again불타올라, 다시 서 (Burn up, stand again)
EO leaned into the mic, tentative at first, then bolder:
Heartbeats in the dark, whispers ignite어둠 속 심장, 속삭임이 불꽃 돼 (In darkness, our hearts whisper into fire)
Min's soft voice floated through, barely above the hum of the synth:
We are golden, scars shine brighter우리는 황금, 상처가 더 빛나 (We are golden, our wounds glow brighter)
Zayn jumped in, layering riffs that cut through the air, each chord echoing the tension of the night before:
No chains, no fear, just us tonight사슬도 두려움도 없어, 오늘 밤 우리뿐 (No chains, no fear, just us tonight)
Jiwon leaned close to the mic, letting his voice drop low, almost growling:
Ashes in our hands, but we're the flame손에 남은 재, 그러나 우리는 불꽃 (Ashes in our hands, yet we are the flame)
Kai stood, gesturing with wild energy, scribbling bridges and harmonies into his notebook:
Rise from the fall, takedown the night넘어져도 일어나, 밤을 무너뜨려 (Even if we fall, rise; take down the night)
Min joined him, voice layering gently over the rap:
빛을 쫓아, 그림자마저 흔들어 (Chase the light, even shadows tremble)
EO added falsetto, almost ethereal:
We fight for now, for us, for fire지금, 우리, 불꽃을 위해 싸워 (For now, for us, for fire, we fight)
The song began to take shape — fast, rhythmic, sharp, but with a rising melodic thread that gave it an almost ethereal edge. Every syllable carried their exhaustion, their rage, their brotherhood.
Jiwon stopped the playback for a moment. "Pause. Listen. Feel it. This isn't just sound — it's everything we didn't say last night. Every fear. Every heartbeat. Every scar."
They listened. The room hummed with the energy of creation, raw and dangerous.
"Now the bridge," Jiwon said, voice tight but commanding. "We need it to sting, then lift. Like… tension snapping and the world exploding."
Kai's voice came sharp, aggressive:
Break the walls, no mercy tonight벽을 부숴, 오늘 밤 자비는 없어 (Break the walls, no mercy tonight)
EO's voice trailed like wind over steel:
Eyes wide open, see us ignite눈을 크게 떠, 우리 불꽃을 봐 (Eyes wide, witness our fire)
Min layered quietly, voice trembling with controlled power:
Hands in the ashes, hearts in the sky손은 재 속, 마음은 하늘에 (Hands in ashes, hearts in the sky)
Zayn's guitar screamed, slicing through the space, sending adrenaline into each member.
They replayed it. Stopped. Tweaked. Replayed. Every nuance mattered — the Korean lines had to feel natural, the English lines sharp, explosive. Every beat had to echo the night's fear, every note carry the weight of their legacy.
Kai grinned, sweaty and wild: "Weaponized feels. I love it."
The studio lights were low, scattered papers and empty coffee cups around them. The beat of their new song pulsed through the room like a heartbeat, raw and urgent. Each member of Monarch moved with purpose, voices layering over each other, echoing off the walls.
Kai spun a lyric sheet, grinning. "This one's ours. All of it."
Min tapped the keyboard gently, eyes closed, feeling the rhythm vibrate through his chest. EO harmonized softly, weaving melodies that caught in the air like sparks. Zayn stepped back, surveying the room, nodding at every subtle shift in tempo or movement.
And Jiwon… Jiwon felt it in his blood—the tension, the fear, the lingering edge of that night's incident—but he let it feed him, let it turn into music. He stepped to the center, letting the glow of the studio lights crown him like a halo, and lifted his voice:
"우린 불을 만드는 게 아니야… 우리는 영원히 타오를 별을 만드는 거야."("No. We're not just making fire… we're making stars that burn forever.")
The words hung in the air. Silence followed for a heartbeat, heavy and reverent. Then the others joined in, their voices blending seamlessly, each note carrying the weight of their struggles and the spark of their hope.
Fans watching the live studio feed erupted online, hearts racing, screens flooded with glowing comments and hashtags:
#StarsThatBurnForever#MonarchMagic#REXShines
Jiwon's eyes met each of his members in turn. For the first time in days, they smiled without pretense. The tension of the past incident melted into energy, into song, into power. They weren't just performers—they were a force. And together, they could make anything burn bright enough to be remembered.