Their bond was stolen from a harsh reality. In a world where emotions were considered a weakness, they found refuge in the darkness of the corridors. Their kisses were greedy, like gulps of water in a desert. In the barracks, the nights belonged only to them—a place where Seo-hyeon's breath was closer than any vow.
"Out there, beyond these walls, we could be free," Seo-hyeon whispered, and every word was a dream.
Min-jun responded with kisses on his neck, feeling the tremor of his body, and held him tighter, as if afraid to lose him.
But six months ago, their world crumbled. Seo-hyeon insisted on participating in a mission involving the Echo portal. A dangerous project that even the officers spoke of in hushed tones.
"Don't go," Min-jun gripped his wrist. His voice trembled, a premonition burning in his chest.
But Seo-hyeon just smiled and touched his face.
"This is our chance."
An explosion cut off the words and the life. A flash, a scream—and silence. The last thing Min-jun saw were his eyes, full of resolve and fear. He was too late. He didn't hold on. Guilt dug into his heart like a rusty blade.