The battle in the hospital raged until the very walls trembled.
Dojoon's men, bloodied and exhausted, pushed forward with shields raised. Automatic doors slammed, shutters dropped, alarms screamed through the corridors.
But the Shadows…
were too many.
They moved like black smoke—appearing, disappearing, reappearing behind officers.
Knives flashed. Guns thundered.
Bodies fell.
Then—
A shrill whistle echoed through the destroyed ICU floor.
Jin stood near the stairwell, jaw clenched, blood smearing his cheek.
"Retreat," he ordered coldly.
"They already escaped."
The Shadows froze, then vanished one by one into the darkness of the ruined halls.
Dojoon exhaled shakily and collapsed against the wall, clutching his bleeding arm.
"Cowards…" he hissed.
But deep inside, he knew—
This wasn't victory.
Just a pause before the next storm.
Dahlia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her hands trembling. The ambulance raced through empty backroads, its siren off, headlights dimmed.
Beside her, Jaemin slumped in the passenger seat, clutching his wound with one blood-soaked hand, the white doctor's gown already turning crimson.
"Jaemin—ah, you're bleeding again—" Dahlia cried, her voice breaking.
"I'm fine," he muttered, breathing hard.
"Keep your eyes on the road."
"You're not fine!" she shouted, her voice trembling.
"You can barely breathe—and look at you—"
"Dahlia."
His voice softened.
"Please. Focus."
She swallowed hard and nodded, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
"Okay… okay. Just… don't close your eyes."
He turned his head slightly, watching her with eyes full of pain and something more tender, more fragile.
"I won't," he whispered.
After almost an hour of weaving through unmarked forest paths, Jaemin placed a hand on the dashboard.
"Stop here."
Dahlia blinked at the open field before them.
Grass nearly up to her knees.
Crawling vines twisting over rocks.
No house.
No hut.
Nothing.
She turned to him, confused.
"Jaemin… this is just an empty field."
He didn't answer.
He stepped out of the ambulance—unsteady, breath tight with pain—and walked toward a massive boulder half-covered in moss.
"Bring your things," he said. "All of it."
She followed him anxiously, carrying the medical kit and her bag.
Then she watched, stunned, as Jaemin crouched behind the boulder and brushed away a mound of dirt—revealing a rusted metal plate.
He pressed his palm against it.
BEEP.
The ground beneath them rumbled.
Dahlia gasped and stepped back as the earth itself split open in a perfect square.
A concealed hatch slid sideways, revealing a ladder descending into darkness.
Dahlia stared in disbelief.
"W-what is this…?"
Jaemin leaned against the boulder, exhausted but steady.
"My great-grandparents' hideout during the war," he explained.
"On my mother's side. I rebuilt it years ago… before Black Viper could find it."
"You rebuilt an underground bunker?" she whispered.
He grunted softly.
"I had nowhere else to hide."
For the first time, she realized how many years he must have spent alone—
hidden, surviving, preparing.
Her heart tightened.
The metal ladder led them down into a surprisingly spacious room—quiet, cold, dimly lit by soft yellow lamps installed along the stone walls.
Dahlia paused at the bottom, wide-eyed.
"Jaemin… this place…"
He steadied himself against the wall.
"Nobody knows this exists.
Not even the Vipers."
She walked slow circles, taking everything in:
To the right—
A small bathroom, clean but old-fashioned.
To the left—
A compact kitchen area with a sink, a tiny refrigerator, a bar counter, and shelves stacked with canned goods and ramen.
Near the corner—
A hanging workout pole, a worn punching bag, and two wooden cabinets filled with weapons, tactical gear, and ammunition.
In the center—
A queen-sized bed with thick blankets.
In front of the kitchen counter—
A long gray couch facing a mounted LED screen connected to a virtual shooting simulator.
Behind the bed—
A tall cabinet serving as a room divider and closet.
Near the far wall—
A small desk with a lamp and empty notebooks.
Her new living space.
Their hiding place.
"Jaemin…" she murmured, breathless.
"You lived here?"
He nodded once.
"On and off. When missions got… dangerous."
He motioned to the bed.
"You sleep there. I'll take the couch."
She bit her lip, suddenly aware of how close they'd be… how small and quiet this underground space felt.
A slight blush warmed her cheeks.
He turned away quickly, trying to hide the way his ears turned red.
To break the tension, he reached for the kitchen cabinet and pulled down two packs of ramen.
"You must be hungry."
Dahlia stepped forward quickly.
"Let me. You need to sit down."
He hesitated—but the pain in his side forced him to obey.
She cooked quietly, working with practiced hands, trying not to think about how close he was… how fragile he looked under the warm yellow light.
When she set the bowls on the bar, they ate quietly—steam rising between them.
To break the silence, she spoke softly.
"Jaemin-ah… why don't we leave? Go to Europe?
Start over. Away from all of this."
He set his chopsticks down.
"It won't work."
"Why not?"
"They have connections everywhere.
They'll hunt us even there."
He looked into her eyes.
"I won't risk your life."
Dahlia sighed, frustration shaking her voice.
"So what then? Stay underground forever?"
He stared into his bowl for a long moment.
"There is… one way."
Her heart jumped.
"What?"
"I need to find the Immortality Stone."
She stiffened, eyes widening.
"The… the Immortality Stone?
That thing exists?"
"I'm not sure."
He leaned back, gaze dark.
"But the Master of the Viper is desperately searching for it. If I find it first… I can bargain for our freedom."
"Then let's find it," she said without hesitation.
His eyes lifted in surprise.
"You… help me?"
"Of course."
She placed her hand over her pendant.
"We're in this together now."
He watched her fingers trace the jade stone embedded in her necklace.
Something flickered in his eyes—confusion, recognition, an emotion he couldn't yet name.
Her pendant glowed faintly under the lamplight.
But Dahlia didn't notice.
Not yet.
She only pressed it tighter, anxious… overwhelmed… afraid… hopeful.
Jaemin's gaze lingered on the jade with a strange heaviness.
"…Dahlia," he whispered.
Something about that pendant…
something felt strange.
Something felt magical.
But he said nothing.
Not yet.
Because the storm outside—and the truth buried beneath their bloodlines—
was only beginning.