Chapter Text
They just stood there.
Staring at the LCD.
TRANSMISSION ACCEPTED.
CONGRATULATIONS.
YOU HAVE CLEARED THE GAME.
The words burned white against the dark screen.
No cheers.
No relief.
No victory.
Only breathing.
Ragged. Shaking. Too loud in the silence, like the aftermath of an explosion.
Felix had collapsed fully to his knees, arms locked around Jeongin like he was afraid the moment he let go, he’d disappear. Blood had soaked through the cloth and into his sleeves, warm and sticky.
“We… we did it…” Felix whispered, but it didn’t sound real. It sounded fragile. Like saying it too loud would make the screen change its mind.
“We really did it…”
Jeongin’s head lolled weakly against Felix’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered, unfocused.
“Does… does that mean it’s over…?” he murmured. “They won’t… shoot again… right…?”
Chan still hadn’t moved.
He was staring at the screen like it might suddenly turn red again. His chest rose and fell too fast, legs shaking so badly he had to grab onto a beam to stay standing.
The words kept echoing in his head.
Count the shadows before the light fades.
Count the shadows before the light fades.
Like a curse.
Like a lifeline.
Hyunjin pressed his hands together, fingers trembling uncontrollably. “I can’t… I can’t feel my hands,” he whispered. “They’re numb. They won’t stop shaking…”
Changbin let out a sound that cracked in the middle and slid down to sit on the floor, back against a post, staring at nothing.
“I was ready,” he said hoarsely. “I swear… I was ready to hear another gunshot.”
Jisung stood in the middle of the clearing, arms wrapped tight around his own body, eyes wide and unfocused.
“My heart won’t slow down,” he said, voice thin. “It feels like it’s still running. Like it doesn’t know it’s allowed to stop.”
Seungmin swallowed hard, eyes stinging as he looked from the screen to Jeongin.
“We won,” he said quietly. “So why does it feel like we lost something anyway…?”
Minho was already moving.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off Jeongin for a second.
His voice cut through the fog, sharp and urgent.
“Enough. Look at him.”
Everyone’s attention snapped back.
Jeongin’s face was drained of color, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, lips trembling as his breathing turned shallow and uneven. A weak, broken sound slipped from his throat.
Felix felt it immediately.
“No— no, stay with me,” he whispered, pulling him closer, panic flaring again. “Hey, hey— don’t drift, okay? You’re still here. You’re still here.”
Chan finally turned away from the screen.
His voice came out rough, barely steady.
“They promised a medical kit,” he said. “They have to give it. They said that was the prize.”
Hyunjin’s eyes burned. “If they don’t—”
Changbin cut in instantly, anger cracking through his fear. “Then I swear to god I’m tearing this place apart with my bare hands.”
Felix pressed his forehead to Jeongin’s, tears finally spilling.
“You hear that?” he whispered desperately. “You’re not done yet. You survived this. So you have to survive the next part too, okay?”
Jeongin tried to nod.
It came out more like a weak twitch.
“…I’m tired…” he murmured. “Hyung… I’m really... tired…”
Felix’s arms tightened around him.
“I know. I know. Just stay awake a little longer. Please. Just a little longer.”
As if the system was still watching them, still listening—
The LCD flickered again.
The victory message vanished.
Replaced by new text.
Medical Supply Kit.
Location: the carved tree.
Limited use.
That was all.
No countdown.
No directions.
No help.
Just three cold lines glowing in the dark.
Chan stared at the screen, chest still heaving.
“That’s it…?” he said, disbelief slipping into his voice. “That’s all they’re giving us? A riddle?”
Hyunjin spun in a slow circle, panic creeping back into his eyes.
“A carved tree? Are you kidding me? This whole place is trees!”
Changbin ran a hand through his hair, breath uneven.
“What if we choose the wrong one? What if we lose time? He doesn’t have time!”
Felix didn’t even look up from Jeongin. His hands were red, slick, shaking.
“Please… please don’t make us search…” he whispered. “Please just let it be close…”
Minho wasn’t listening anymore.
He was already moving.
His eyes scanned the forest like a predator’s, jumping from trunk to trunk, ignoring the normal ones, searching for anything wrong—anything different.
Then he saw it.
Half swallowed by shadows.
One tree whose bark was scarred with deep, unnatural carvings. Not random. Not from animals. Deliberate. Intentional.
“There,” Minho said sharply. “That one.”
And then he was running.
“Minho—!” Chan shouted, but it was too late.
Minho sprinted, boots slipping on dirt, heart pounding so hard it hurt, every second feeling stolen from Jeongin’s life.
Felix lifted his head, eyes wide and desperate.
“Please… please be right… please be right…”
Minho reached the tree and slammed to a stop, hands flying over the carved grooves, breath ragged, fingers searching, digging—
Then.
Solid.
A small, black box strapped tight against the trunk, almost invisible against the dark bark.
Minho froze for half a second.
Then his eyes blew wide.
“I FOUND IT!” he yelled. “IT’S HERE— IT’S ACTUALLY HERE!”
He tore the straps loose, nearly ripping his nails, grabbed the kit and turned back, already running again.
“I’M COMING BACK! HOLD ON— JUST HOLD ON!”
Felix dropped his forehead against Jeongin’s, voice breaking completely.
“Did you hear him? He found it. He really found it. You just have to stay awake a little longer, okay? Please— please don’t go now…”
Jeongin’s body shook as another wave of pain hit. His fingers twitched weakly against Felix’s sleeve.
“I’m… trying…” he whispered.
Felix swallowed a sob and pulled him closer, hands pressing harder even as blood soaked through again.
“Ok. You’re still here. You’re not allowed to leave yet. Not after all this.”
Minho was already halfway back, clutching the medical kit like it was the last thing on earth that mattered.
He slid to his knees beside Jeongin and tore it open so hard the zipper screeched through the silence.
Bandages.
Gauze.
Small bottles of antiseptic.
A few weak painkillers.
No needles.
No stitches.
No real equipment.
Just enough to try.
Felix leaned back just enough to let Minho in, but he didn’t remove his hands from Jeongin’s shoulder. His fingers were shaking, stained red, slipping against the soaked cloth.
Jeongin whimpered as the pressure shifted.
A thin, broken sound crawled out of his chest.
“Ah— nngh— it hurts— it really hurts—”
His body curled inward, instinctively trying to protect the wound, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab at it.
Hyunjin caught his wrist immediately.
“Don’t,” he whispered urgently. “Don’t touch it, Innie— please—”
Jeongin shook, a low cry breaking through his teeth.
“It burns— it’s burning— please—”
Changbin ripped the antiseptic open with shaking hands and shoved it toward Minho.
“Just— just do it. Don’t think.”
Minho didn’t hesitate.
He pulled the cloth away.
Jeongin screamed.
“Aaah—! Stop— stop— please—!”
His back arched violently, nails digging into Felix’s arm. Felix sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t move, didn’t loosen his hold.
He pulled Jeongin’s head against his chest, one hand cradling the back of his skull.
“I know— I know— I know—” Felix whispered desperately, voice cracking apart. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re not alone—”
Minho poured the antiseptic over the wound.
Jeongin sobbed.
His whole body jolted like electricity ran through him.
“Nngh—! No— no— it hurts— it hurts so bad—!”
Seungmin hovered beside them, holding fresh gauze with trembling hands, passing it again and again without being told, like muscle memory was the only thing keeping him standing.
Jisung stood frozen just behind, breathing too fast, eyes wide, every sound from Jeongin hitting him like a punch to the chest.
Hyunjin kept holding Jeongin’s wrist, his own jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, eyes dark and furious and terrified all at once.
Chan knelt beside Minho, gripping the small flashlight with both hands.
The light shook.
His arms were shaking.
But he forced it steady.
“Focus,” Chan muttered to himself. “Just— just focus…”
Minho cleaned as best as he could.
Again.
And again.
But the blood didn’t care.
It kept coming.
Slow.
Relentless.
Jeongin suddenly gasped, head turning weakly toward Chan, eyes unfocused.
“Chan— it hurts— I can’t— I—”
His breathing broke apart, chest rising in fast, shallow pulls, like he couldn’t get enough air.
Felix felt it instantly.
He pulled him closer without thinking, rocking slightly, panic seeping into his voice.
“Hey— hey— look at me. Just breathe with me, okay? Don’t go— don’t go somewhere else—”
Jeongin tried.
His eyes fluttered, then squeezed shut again as another whimper slipped out.
Minho pressed fresh gauze over the wound and started wrapping the bandage around his shoulder, fast but careful.
Every time it tightened, Jeongin flinched.
“Hngh—! S-stop— please— please—”
Changbin held the other end of the bandage, hands shaking so violently he had to grip it with both fists.
His face was twisted, like he was trying not to scream himself.
They worked.
Too slow.
Too messy.
Too scared.
No one said it out loud.
But all of them were thinking the same thing:
None of us know what we’re doing.
And if this isn’t enough…
…we might already be too late.
When the bandage was finally secured, the white was already turning red.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Like a stain spreading in water.
Minho froze, eyes locked on it for a second too long.
Felix saw it.
His breath hitched sharply. Without thinking, he pressed his palm over the bandage, gentle but desperate, like maybe—maybe—his hand alone could keep the blood inside.
“No— no, no…” he whispered under his breath. “Stay… please just stay…”
Jeongin was shivering now.
Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, his skin burning under Felix’s hands, lips pale and trembling.
A weak, broken sound slipped out of him.
“Hyung… I’m cold…”
The words hit harder than any scream.
Seungmin reacted instantly, ripping his jacket off and wrapping it around Jeongin’s chest and shoulders, hands shaking as he tucked it in.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said too fast. “Just— just keep it on, yeah? Don’t move.”
Jisung dropped to his knees beside them and grabbed Jeongin’s free hand, holding it with both of his like he was anchoring him to the ground.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice barely holding together. “Don’t let go, okay? I’m right here. We’re all here.”
Chan swallowed hard and reached into the kit, his fingers clumsy as he popped two painkillers into his palm.
He lifted the small bottle of water with the other hand.
“Jeongin,” he said softly. “Look at me. Just a little. We need you to take these.”
Jeongin’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused, glassy.
Chan helped him tilt his head.
Jeongin gagged, coughed weakly, water spilling down his chin, chest jerking painfully.
Felix stiffened. “Slow— slow— it’s okay—”
After a second, Jeongin managed to swallow.
His throat worked around the pills.
“Good… good,” Chan whispered, even though his voice was shaking and his eyes never left the blood seeping through the bandage.
They stayed like that.
Hands pressed to skin. Bodies crowded together. Breathing loud, uneven, overlapping.
Like if they separated even an inch, he’d disappear.
They had cleaned it.
They had wrapped it.
They had given him medicine.
They had done everything they could.
And still—
Jeongin whimpered every time he breathed. Still shivered. Still bled.
Felix’s hands were numb from pressing, his arms aching, but he didn’t let go.
Hyunjin stared at the wound like he was trying to will it to close.
Changbin stood just behind them, fists clenched, eyes burning, jaw trembling like he was one second away from screaming.
Minho didn’t say anything.
He just watched the blood soak through again.
The forest stayed silent.
The screens stayed dark.
No footsteps. No voices. No help.
No one was coming.
They weren’t saving him.
They were just—
holding him here.
For as long as they could.
Jeongin whimpered again, a thin, broken sound stuck in his throat.
“Hng… hurts…”
Chan leaned in, brushing the damp hair away from Jeongin’s eyes, voice soft but strained.
“I know. I know. Just— stay with us, okay? Don’t drift off.”
Jisung shifted slightly, his eyes drifting to the open medical kit beside Minho.
The sight made his stomach twist.
Most of the gauze was gone.
Half the bandages used.
And only few pills left in the blister pack.
He stared at them for a long moment.
Then, quietly—too quietly—he spoke.
“If we give him another one now…” Jisung said, not even looking up, “…we’re almost out.”
The words landed like a slap.
Hyunjin’s head snapped up instantly.
“What?”
Jeongin let out another small cry, his body curling slightly, fingers twitching weakly against Felix’s sleeve.
Felix swallowed, torn, rubbing slow circles into Jeongin’s back.
“He’s… he’s in a lot of pain…”
Jisung nodded, still staring at the pills.
“I know. I’m not blind. I’m just saying— if we use everything right now—”
“You don’t get to ration him,” Hyunjin cut in, voice low but razor-sharp.
Jisung finally looked up.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Hyunjin shifted closer, his body angling instinctively in front of Jeongin, like a shield.
“You’re standing there counting pills while he can barely breathe.”
Jisung’s jaw tightened.
“And you’re pretending we’re not going to need them later.”
Hyunjin scoffed softly, bitter.
“Don’t talk like there’s a ‘later’ without him.”
Jisung flinched, just a little.
“Don’t put that on me.”
“Then don’t sound like you already accepted it.”
Jisung pushed himself halfway up, not fully standing, but close enough that the air between them felt tight.
“I’m trying to keep him alive too,” he said, voice shaking now. “I’m just thinking about what happens after this minute.”
Hyunjin stood fully.
Not aggressive.
But dangerous in how controlled he was.
“And I’m thinking about the fact that he’s shaking in our arms right now.”
Their voices still weren’t loud.
But everyone felt it.
Chan froze mid-breath.
Minho stopped moving the gauze.
Even Felix looked up, fear flickering across his face, though he didn’t loosen his hold on Jeongin.
Jeongin whimpered again, a sound so small it hurt.
“… it hurts…”
Hyunjin’s fists clenched hard.
He looked down at Jeongin.
Then back at Jisung.
“You hear him.”
Jisung ran a hand through his hair, breathing faster.
“Yeah. I hear him. That’s why I don’t want us to fuck this up.”
Hyunjin stepped closer.
“FUCK WHAT UP? Giving him one more pill?”
“And then WHAT?” Jisung shot back. “We smile and pretend that fixed it? We don’t know how long we’re trapped here. We don’t know if there’s another kit. We don’t even know if help is real.”
Hyunjin’s eyes burned.
“So you want him to just endure it?”
Jisung shook his head sharply.
“That’s not what I said.”
“THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?”
“I’m saying—” Jisung broke off, hands opening and closing like he couldn’t hold the thought. “I’m saying we’re already almost empty. And we’re acting like this is the last problem we’ll ever face.”
Hyunjin let out a short, hollow laugh.
“And I’m saying this problem is screaming in front of us.”
They stared at each other.
Two kinds of fear.
Two kinds of helpless.
Crashing head-on.
Chan tried to step in.
“Hey, both of you—”
Hyunjin didn’t look away from Jisung.
“You don’t get to be calm about this.”
Jisung’s voice dropped, rough.
“And you don’t get to accuse me of not caring just because I’m not breaking apart.”
Hyunjin’s eyes flicked dangerously.
“Maybe you should be breaking apart.”
Jisung laughed once—sharp, almost hysterical.
“You think this is me okay?”
For a second
It really felt like one more word would push them over the edge.
And in the middle of it all, Jeongin whimpered again, weak and small.
And neither of them knew whether they were fighting to save him…
Or fighting because they were both terrified they couldn’t.
Jeongin suddenly gasped, his whole body jerking violently.
“Aah—! Felix— it’s— it’s burning again—!”
The sound ripped through them.
Felix tightened his arms around him instantly, almost crushing him to his chest.
“Okay— okay— I’ve got you, I’ve got you— don’t let go—”
Jeongin’s fingers dug into Felix’s shirt, his breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts like he couldn’t catch enough air.
Minho looked up from the bandage, eyes wide, voice strained.
“He’s shaking more. He’s getting worse.”
Seungmin reached for Jeongin’s free hand and squeezed it tightly.
“Hey, hey— breathe with me, yeah? In— out— in— out—”
But Jeongin couldn’t match the rhythm.
His chest hitched, eyes squeezed shut, another broken cry tearing out of him.
“It hurts— it hurts so bad—”
That was what broke it.
Hyunjin looked away first.
He turned his face to the side like he couldn’t watch anymore—then abruptly dropped back down to his knees beside Jeongin, hands hovering uselessly for a second before settling on his arm.
Jisung exhaled shakily and followed, the fight draining out of his posture but not out of his eyes. His shoulders sagged, like he’d finally run out of strength to argue.
Chan picked up the blister pack.
His fingers trembled.
He hesitated for half a second.
Then he pushed another pill out.
It landed in his palm with a soft, almost cruel little sound.
Hyunjin glanced at Jisung.
Jisung stared at the pill.
Their eyes met.
No apology.
No forgiveness.
Just the same fear, reflected back at each other.
Chan helped Jeongin sit up just enough.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Just swallow. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Jeongin gagged, coughing weakly as the pill stuck to his tongue, tears spilling freely now.
“I—I can’t—”
Felix tilted the water bottle to his lips, hands shaking.
“Just a little more, Innie. Please.”
Jeongin finally swallowed, throat working painfully.
He collapsed back against Felix’s chest, sobbing quietly, exhausted beyond tears.
Hyunjin brushed his thumb gently over Jeongin’s damp cheek, his voice barely there.
“Good… you did good…”
Jisung looked away, jaw clenched so tight it hurt, then shifted closer anyway, reaching out to help hold Jeongin steady when another tremor ran through him.
The argument didn’t end.
It didn’t resolve.
It just sank.
Heavy. Unfinished.
Settling somewhere deep between them.
Not gone.
Just waiting.
++++
Hours passed.
Jeongin eventually stopped whimpering.
His body seemed to run out of ways to react.
His breathing slowed, uneven and shallow, each breath smaller than the last. His lashes trembled weakly against his cheeks before finally staying closed. The fingers that had been clawing at Felix’s sleeve for so long loosened one by one… until his hand lay limp in his lap.
Felix didn’t move when it happened.
He just sat there, back pressed to the rough bark of the tree, one arm still locked around Jeongin’s shoulders like a seatbelt. Afraid that if he shifted even an inch, Jeongin would wake up screaming again. Or worse—
not wake up at all.
His eyes were red. Empty. Staring at nothing.
Minho sat on Jeongin’s other side, legs pulled in, chin resting on his knees. There were dark, dried smears of blood across his hands and forearms he hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe he had, and just didn’t care. Every few minutes, his eyes flicked back to the bandage—like he expected it to suddenly bloom red again at any second.
Chan was a few steps away, back against another tree, head tipped forward, elbows on his knees. His shirt was stained. His knuckles were scraped raw from gripping too hard, too long. He looked like he hadn’t blinked in hours. Like if he stopped watching, something terrible would happen.
Hyunjin sat near Jeongin’s feet, one knee pulled up, arm draped loosely over it. He stared at the ground like it had personally betrayed him. His jaw was locked, lips pressed thin, eyes hollow—but burning with something sharp and angry that had nowhere to go.
Jisung leaned against a trunk across from them, legs stretched out, head tilted back. His chest rose and fell too fast for someone who wasn’t moving. One hand kept fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve—twisting the fabric, letting go, twisting it again. Over and over. Like a nervous tic he couldn’t stop.
Seungmin sat nearby, shoulders slumped, hands resting uselessly in his lap. There was a faint streak of dried blood on his wrist he hadn’t wiped away. Or maybe he had seen it and just… didn’t have the energy to react anymore.
Changbin stood.
He hadn’t sat down once.
He paced in a small, tight circle a few meters away, fists clenched, breath uneven. Every few steps he’d stop, drag a hand through his hair, then start again. Like if he stayed still for too long, he’d explode.
His eyes kept snapping back to Jeongin.
Then to the forest.
Then to the screens.
Like he was daring something else to happen.
Like he was begging it not to.
No one spoke.
There was no We did it.
No relief.
No laughter.
No shaking it off.
Just breathing.
The soft rustle of leaves overhead.
A distant insect chirping—too loud in the silence.
The quiet, fragile sound of Jeongin’s shallow breaths.
Even winning didn’t feel safe.
It just felt… empty.
Like they had poured everything they had into those minutes, and now there was nothing left inside them. No adrenaline. No anger. No hope.
Just exhaustion and fear sitting in their chests, heavy and unmoving.
Felix finally shifted a little.
Carefully, slowly, he adjusted Jeongin’s weight so his head rested more comfortably against his shoulder. Jeongin stirred faintly, brow furrowing, a soft, pained sound slipping from his throat.
“Shh…” Felix whispered, barely louder than the wind. “You’re okay… just sleep… I’ve got you…”
Jeongin didn’t answer.
He just sank deeper into that heavy, unconscious stillness.
Hyunjin watched him, throat bobbing once, then looked away sharply like he couldn’t stand it.
Jisung closed his eyes, pressing the back of his head harder against the tree.
Chan let out a slow, shaky breath, staring at the dirt between his shoes like it might give him answers.
Changbin finally stopped pacing.
He stood still for a moment—then turned his back on the forest and dropped to sit against a tree, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.
No one said what they were all thinking.
That this could happen again.
That next time, it might be worse.
That next time, there might be no kit. No bandages. No pills.
That next time, someone might not just bleed.
Time kept moving anyway.
Then—
The LCD flickered.
The sudden light cut through the dim forest like a blade.
Everyone flinched.
Heads snapped up. Bodies tensed. Changbin shot to his feet again instantly. Even Jeongin stirred weakly in Felix’s arms, a soft groan escaping him.
The screen glowed cold and white.
No buildup.
No warning.
Just one line.
Round 4 will begin soon.
That was all.
No countdown.
No prize.
No mercy.
The words reflected in their eyes as they stared at it, frozen in place.
The silence returned—heavier than before.
And this time, it wasn’t just empty.
It was waiting.