Memories came without warning, like a burn. Two years ago. His first time outside the bunker walls.
Back then, Seo-hyeon was still a rookie scientist, lost in the chaos. He trembled, clutching sample containers, while Min-jun walked beside him—a soldier with a rifle and a stubborn gaze.
"Stay close, brains," he said, covering him.
Seo-hyeon stumbled over rubble, and Min-jun caught his elbow. Their eyes met. In Min-jun's eyes, there was not only weariness and anger but also warmth.
Later, in a half-ruined house, when a zombie pack pinned them against a wall, Min-jun grabbed his hand and shot point-blank. Seo-hyeon remembered how their fingers intertwined. And how his heart hammered against his ribs, not from fear—but from the heat that spread across his skin.
And in the bunker… there they learned to breathe together. In narrow corridors that smelled of smoke and sweat, Min-jun would press him against the wall, kissing him sharply, hungrily—as if it were their last kiss. In his arms, Seo-hyeon felt alive, not just a part of an experiment.
"We'll get through this," Min-jun whispered, holding him.
And Seo-hyeon believed it.
He got the Stella ring after one of their scavenging runs. Min-jun slipped it onto his finger with a smirk.
"Found it in the ruins. Let it be our beacon."
Seo-hyeon laughed then, for the first time in a long time. And he believed in a future.
And then… the explosion. The blinding light. The collapsing ceiling. The dust. The screams. He dug through the rubble until his fingers bled. But all he found was emptiness.