Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hyunjin marches ahead of the others, his eyes fixed on the end of the hallway.

A few more seconds, and their plan could be put into action. 

The thought makes his skin crawl with excitement and adrenaline. He grins to himself before sneaking a hasty glance over his shoulder. Behind him, Hannah, Changbin, and Minho murmur among themselves, pressed into a tight-knit group. 

Alarm bells go off in his head. 

“Hey,” he calls, firmly. “Would you three pick up the pace? We’re in a life or death situation here.”

“Really,” Hannah hisses. “If we're in a life or death situation, then why are we not being attacked by anyone?” 

A tense silence. Hyunjin clenches his jaw furiously, thinking of a lie. 

“I’ve already told you this. People have been dying left and right.”

“Why aren’t there any bodies?” Minho demands, his dark eyes snapping. Hyunjin turns on his heel and scowls, but Minho remains stoic, perfectly calm. Almost like he can see right through him. Hyunjin resists the urge to look away; that would only increase suspicion. 

“You think that I know everything?” Hyunjin tries playing the victim role. His grip tightens on the vial. “I’m just as confused as you three right now.”

Minho says nothing, but a small smirk plays on his lips. Hyunjin lets out a frustrated huff before finally breaking eye contact. 

His footsteps ring out in the hallway, sharp and fast, until the sound is abruptly accompanied by Minho’s voice: 

“Hwang Hyunjin, don’t think that I can’t see right through you.”

He can’t help himself. His footsteps slow to a stop. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Minho is still smiling calmly, but his head is tilted to the side, watching, observing. “I know you’re lying.”

“You don’t know shit.” Hyunjin growls. 

“You think that the daughter of Jack Bang himself wouldn’t know this entire place like the back of her hand?” Hannah demands. “You’re leading us to the dungeons, Hyunjin. I’ve been keeping track of every turn. Every move. And now we know your motives.”

“I’m leading you to the dungeons because that’s where Felix is!” Hyunjin shoots back, his voice rising in volume. His fists clench, he takes a menacing step forwards. “You want to save him, don’t you?”

Changbin frowns, betrayed. “I can’t believe you, Hyunjin. I really can’t. This entire time, I thought the two of us would get out of here alive. Now I hope that you never do.”

Suddenly, an eerily calm, cheerful tune breaks through the tense silence. Someone is whistling. 

Someone is heading towards them, their shoes clicking rhythmically on the concrete. 

Hyunjin shrugs, grinning. “Ah, well. Guess you finally caught us.” 

That’s when he appears.

A freckled-faced, blonde-haired boy at the end of the hall. Hands in his pockets, head cocked at an angle. 

Felix.

The three Innocents watch, frozen, as Felix approaches Hyunjin, moving to lean his elbow against the taller man’s shoulder. Then he laughs. 

“Damn, Hyune,” he giggles. “Have I ever told you that you’re a really shitty liar?”

Hannah's eyes fill with tears instantly as she takes an unsteady step backwards. 

“Lix,” she whispers.

“Hey.” Minho gives Hannah’s hand a squeeze in response. “Focus. We’ve still got them outnumbered.”

“Aw, they’re so adorable,” Felix coos. “Aren’t they, Hyune?” 

“You’ll see just how adorable we are when we beat you into a pulp, Lee Felix,” Changbin snarls, cracking his knuckles. “I knew you were fishy from the start.” 

“Imagine that,” Minho hisses. “Two traitors on two different sides, playing the parts of Vireo and Innocent. What a shame I couldn’t figure it out sooner.”

“Yes, yes,” Hyunjin smirks. “It really is a shame. For you, at least. Because now we can start step one in our plan: take down the uncooperative ones.”

“Sorry,” Felix sighs, feigning regret. “All we want to do is get out of this place. But just escaping isn’t really that fun, now, is it?” 

“What are you going to do?” Hannah asks, her voice wavering. 

Felix picks absent-mindedly at his fingernails. “Oh, we’ll just get rid of a few troublesome people. Nothing too serious.”

“Lix,” Hannah whispers. “Please. This isn’t like you. Don’t you remember me?” 

Felix bursts out into sharp, cruel cackles. “Nice try, Innocent. You really think that’d work on me? I don’t know who the hell you are—all I know is that you’re in my way.” 

Hannah lets out a muffled sob. Minho tightens his hold on her shoulder, backing away. Meanwhile, Changbin steps forward. 

“You wanna get the job done?” he grins. “You’ll have to deal with me first, motherfuckers.”

Felix yawns. “Hyune, I really do have things to do, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Hyunjin replies airily, with an exasperated sigh. “They’re all quite exhausting. I say we begin.”

“Seo Changbin,” Minho says abruptly, pushing Hannah behind him and grabbing Changbin’s shoulder. “Wait a second.” 

“We don’t have a second!” Felix whines, pouting. He turns to Hyunjin with a childish stamp of his foot. “Hyunjin, just begin already!” 

“Lix,” Hyunjin smirks. “I wanna see what they have in mind, first.”

Felix sulks. “Fine.” 

“Can we compromise?” Minho asks. “Please, Hyunjin. Just for a second. A quick talk between you and me.”

Hyunjin’s lips twitch into an amused smile. “Whatever you say won’t sway me.”

“I know,” Minho agrees. “But I can still try, can’t I?”

Hyunjin spreads his arms out and chuckles. “Give it your best shot.” 

“Shall we go over there?” Minho questions, pointing to a small alcove nearby. “To make it more private.”

“Ooh, this’ll be fun,” Hyunjin said with a giddy laugh. He tucks himself into the small space, and Minho joins soon after. 

“You know, you’ve taught me something very important today, Hyunjin,” Minho begins. “Why you should never trust someone, why you should always be on the lookout for those little things that just don’t add up. The body language that just screams, ‘I’m suspicious and I’m the mastermind behind all of this.’ As you can see, many things. You’ve had practice, Hyunjin. Lots of practice.”

“I’m liking where this is going,” Hyunjin whispers, his dark eyes glinting. “You, Lee Minho, certainly know how to sweet-talk a killer.”

Minho simply smiles. “But you’ve also shown me that the most psychopathic killers tend to think too highly of themselves. They’re impulsive. They’re messy. They see themselves as the most powerful, and as a result, they get played like a fiddle.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, but the realization hit him just a second too late. 

Suddenly, Minho’s hands are around his neck, squeezing his throat, constricting his airway. Hyunjin forces out a laugh, but it sounds terrified. Panicked. 

His hands scrabble against Minho’s unrelenting fingers as he gasps for air. His knees begin to buckle. 

Then something sharp is driven into Minho’s leg. He screams, but there’s no fucking way he’ll let go of Hyunjin.

“You…bastard,” Hyunjin pants, his teeth gritted. “Shit.”

The blood loss is making Minho dizzy. He tries to deepen his breathing, to calm himself down, but the shock and pain of being stabbed begins to overtake him. 

The two of them collapse to the floor, one bleeding out, the other losing oxygen. Minho maneuvers himself so that his legs are wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, further choking him. 

Hyunjin’s hand scrabbles for his fallen knife, but Minho catches the movement and kicks the weapon away. It skids across the floor. 

The two of them are gasping for air now, wrestling one another with the intent to kill. It’s nothing more than a battle of endurance now, as the question hangs heavy in the air: who would go out first?

Minho presses down harder, twisting to press his elbow against Hyunjin’s diaphragm. He can feel the other man’s lungs struggling to expand beneath his weight. 

Moments later, Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as a final weak breath rattles out of his chest. His hands fall limp by his sides. Minho holds position for a couple more moments, ensuring that Hyunjin truly is unconscious, before rolling sideways onto the floor. He lays on his back, gasping, one hand pressed to his thigh. He can feel the warm stickiness of the blood, he can feel how his pants are clinging to his skin. 

Damn. He’s so fucking tired. 

His eyes flutter. It wouldn’t hurt to just—

Abruptly, he hears Hannah and Changbin running towards him, shouting his name. 

“Minho!” 

“We did it, Minho, we fucking did it! We used the antidote on Felix, and–”

He can hear the steady, rhythmic patter of two pairs of shoes on the concrete, running towards him, then a harsh squeak as they come to an abrupt stop. A duo of concerned faces hover above him, blurring in and out of his vision. 

“Oh, shit…shit, Minho…” Changbin’s hands are shaking. Even drifting in and out, Minho can tell. The younger man presses his palm against the wound, trying to stop the blood flow while pleading. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Minho! Don’t you dare!”

Minho’s breathing stutters, the inhale of air rattling in his lungs, and he goes horrifyingly, terrifyingly still. Behind Changbin, Hannah sobs, helpless to do anything.

“C’mon,” Changbin breathes, his tears creating trails through the puddle of blood by his knees. “C’mon, fight, you bastard!” 

Then Minho’s fingers twitch, and it feels like Changbin’s world has tilted back into place—a fragile, beautiful new world where Minho is still alive.

Changbin manages a weak laugh of relief as he moves to grasp Minho’s hand. 

And Minho…

Minho keeps breathing. 

Jisung wakes to a slight throbbing in his head, and the sound of someone crying. Loud, heartwrenching sobs. 

His eyes readjust to the dim light, and he shifts his position until he’s leaning against the wall. Near the prison door, he catches sight of Jeongin. The younger boy is curled into a tight ball, his hoodie torn, his face pale and tear-streaked. One shaking hand is outstretched in front of him, and the other is trying in vain to muffle the sobs. 

It’s Jeongin’s expression that chills him to the bone. Raw, broken, and terrifyingly hollow. His eyes are vacant, filled with tears and staring at nothing more than space. 

“Jeongin?” Jisung whispers, his voice hoarse. “What…what happened? Are you okay?”

The younger boy flinches, then slowly uncurls. He looks at Jisung, then around the cell, as if just seeing it for the first time. A low choked sound escapes his throat again, and Jisung’s heart breaks. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung gasps, shuffling over immediately. He kneels over Jeongin, his hands hovering, unsure of whether or not he should touch the boy. “You’re hurting, aren’t you? Shit, what if you got a concussion? How many fingers am I holding up, Innie?”

“Ji,” Jeongin croaks, his voice cracking. He sobs again. “Felix. It was Felix.”

Jisung frowns, confused. “Felix? What about Felix? Did you see him? Is he alright?”

Jeongin shakes his head, and cries again. “He was against us from the start,” he whimpers, burying his face in his hands. “He laughed, Jisung. He just laughed.”

The words hit Jisung like a physical blow. The kind, cheerful Felix who tended to his wounds, comforted him in his hardest moments, fussed over everyone like they were his best friends, and ensured that not a single person was unguarded in the arena? 

It couldn’t be. 

It couldn’t.

His mind reels, trying to match the image of his gentle, kind-hearted friend with Jeongin’s words. 

Felix? 

A traitor? 

“No,” Jisung mumbles, shaking his head. “No, Innie, that’s…that’s not right. It can’t be. Felix wouldn’t! He’s our friend!” 

Jeongin’s breath hitches in his throat as he holds back another sob. “Not anymore. He meant it, Jisung. Every single word.”

The silence is suffocating as the truth slowly and painfully dawns on him. Jisung stares at Jeongin, then closes his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. 

The betrayal doesn’t hurt as much as the fact that every shared laugh, every moment spent with Felix was all a lie. 

The realization that he had been so easily deceived was a far more bitter pill to swallow.

“Kim Seungmin.”

Everything snaps back into focus as Seungmin blinks, turning towards the source of the noise. 

Chris smiles. “Hey. Make sure you’re focusing, there.” 

The words seem gentle, but Seungmin knows that disobeying Chris’s orders will lead to something…severe, needless to say. 

“Yes sir,” he mumbles. 

Around them, the Arthropod is bustling with a horrifying new energy. People are moving with a desperate efficiency, their faces grim and determined. 

Some sharpen their makeshift weapons, others distribute worn pieces of armor, hastily tying and tightening the straps while checking for weak points. The scent of sweat and anticipation is strong, almost suffocating. 

Seungmin tries to calm his racing heart down. He doesn’t fully understand what is going on, all he knows is that—

“This’ll be the battle of our lives,” Chris interrupts, as if hearing Seungmin’s thoughts. He sidles over, a wide grin on his face. “So fight hard, Min.”

He pats Seungmin firmly on the shoulder before leaving to check on the progress being made by the rest of his self-formed army. 

Seungmin bounces on his heels, shaking out his arms in a futile attempt to prepare himself for what was to come. Chris returns from his rounds a few moments later, carrying a heavy metal crossbow over his shoulder and a bat in his right hand. 

“Pick your poison,” he grins, holding out both weapons. 

Seungmin stares at his options, considering. The crossbow seemed like a good weapon for taking down enemies from far away, but the bat…

He looks over the rough, splintered wood of the bat, with its taped-up handle. It’s simple but something he can actually wield, something that requires only raw force and nothing else. 

Chris’s grin widens as if he can hear the internal debate playing inside Seungmin’s mind. “Hesitating, Min? Come on, take your pick. I don’t want you going into this empty-handed.”

Seungmin reaches out, his fingers brushing briefly against the wooden surface of the bat. It feels solid, a weapon of both brutality and defense. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands, and smiles. 

“The bat,” Seungmin says, his voice surprisingly firm. He grips it, testing its weight, and gives a couple experimental swings. It is heavy, but satisfyingly so. 

Chris chuckles, satisfied. “Good choice. Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the most effective, hmm?” 

Then he leaves Seungmin alone to brace himself for the ultimate test.

“Goddamn, Minho,” Changbin breathes, as he adjusts the half-conscious man over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “You’re gonna bleed out all over me…”

“Sorry,” Minho manages past a pained grunt. “I can’t seem to find the shut-off switch for my circulatory system.”

“Well, he’s at least able to joke around, so that’s a good sign,” Hannah remarks. “Now I think the ones that we have to worry about are these two.” She motions to the ground, where both Felix and Hyunjin lie unconscious. 

“You gave them the antidote, right?” Minho asks weakly, his eyes sliding shut briefly from exhaustion and pain. 

“We did, yeah. I’ve tackled Felix a few times when we were kids. We did it a lot for fun. I usually won, but I could never tell if he was going gentle on me or not.”

“Probably wasn’t,” Changbin pipes in with a smirk. “That body lock takedown was impressive as hell.”

Hannah just shrugs and glances down at Felix, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. 

Changbin notices instantly.

“Hey,” he comforts. “He’s gonna wake up soon with all his memories. Right?”

“Right,” Hannah inhales, then smiles. “He will.”

Changbin taps Minho lightly on his uninjured leg. “You good up there?” 

Minho bites back a groan through clenched teeth. “Yeah,” he pants. “Never better.”

Hannah bends over to glance at Minho’s face. He’s sweaty, tense, and his eyes are screwed shut in pain. 

“If this is the best, I’d hate to see what the worst is.”

Minho moans from frustration and discomfort. “As a private investigator, I’ve had my fair share of shitty situations.”

“Ah. I see.”

Changbin grabs Minho’s limp arm and wraps it more securely around his neck. “Alright, Detective Lee. Just stay conscious and nice and still for me and we won’t have any problems, deal?”

Minho hums in response, muttering something that might’ve been either a word of agreement or a curse. Changbin takes it as agreement regardless.

“You’ve got Lix?” Changbin questions, turning to Hannah in concern. 

Hannah laughs. “Yep,” she answers, already in the process of heaving a limp Felix up over her shoulder. “Trust me, he’s a lot lighter than he looks.” 

“Damn,” Changbin chuckles. “You’re strong.” 

Hannah uses her free arm to flex, teasing Changbin with a wink. “The strongest.”

“How’re we gonna carry Hyunjin?” Changbin realizes. 

Minho squirms awake in Changbin’s arms, using the impact of a balled-up fist to get the younger man’s attention. “Seo Changbin, I am fully capable of walking by myself…”

“Maybe,” Hannah says. “But we don’t want you walking by yourself, Minho. Movement will worsen the bleeding, and then you’ll die on us.”

Changbin nods in agreement. “Yeah, Hannah’s right. You’re staying right there.”

“You can’t drag Hyunjin by his foot down these hallways,” Minho protests faintly. “One of you will have to carry him, but neither of you can.” 

“Brave of you to assume that,” Changbin shoots back. “I didn’t bulk up in the gym for nothing.” With that, he reaches down to slide a hand under Hyunjin’s head, bringing the younger man up into a sitting position. With Hannah’s help, he manages to get Hyunjin up to his feet. 

With Hyunjin braced between the two of them, Changbin hooks an elbow under one of Hyunjin’s legs and pulls him up over his broad shoulders, settling him behind Minho. 

“Sorry about the limited space,” Changbin grunts. “But we’ll have to make do until we reach the others.”

“Oh no, this is just peachy,” Minho replies sarcastically. “How’re you doing down there, Bin-ah?” 

Changbin, his chest already heaving from the effort of holding two grown men on his back, just huffs out an exhausted chuckle.  

“Off we go, then?” Hannah suggests. 

Changbin takes a staggering step forward. “You bet.”

“Let’s hope that no one is after us,” Minho says under his breath. “Or else we’re gonna be more fucked than flies trapped in a spiderweb.”

Jisung’s arms are wrapped around Jeongin’s shoulders, holding the younger boy close. The two of them lean against each other for comfort, neither saying a word, but neither truly needing to. 

It seemed like hours since they were locked in this prison. Hours since the pain and the heartbreak and the betrayal. 

Beside Jisung, Jeongin lets out a shaky breath. Jisung rouses from his doze, turning towards the younger. “You okay?”

Jeongin nods. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean, not really, but…yeah.”

“Makes sense,” Jisung replies, with a soft laugh. He ruffles Jeongin’s hair. “How’re the injuries? You feeling worse or better?” 

“Injuries of the body or the heart?”

“Ah, guess I should clarify. We’ll say both.” 

“Still hurts.”

“Mm.” 

There’s a shuffle as Jeongin stirs slightly. “How’re you, Hannie?” 

Jisung shrugs. “Little anxious. Sore, ‘specially my side.”

Jeongin’s hand presses lightly against Jisung’s bandaged abdomen. Jisung sucks in a pained breath and flinches away. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongin apologizes hastily. “I’m just checking the bleeding.” 

Jisung smirks, his grin a little forced and more of a grimace than a genuine smile. “So what’s the diagnosis, doc? Am I gonna live?”

“I dunno, it’s a rough case,” Jeongin plays along. “You could be put on life-support.”

“Damn,” Jisung laughs. “What kind of a doctor are you? Breaking the news to me like that?”

“The honest kind,” Jeongin shoots back, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “You want sugarcoating, go to pediatrics.”

Jisung groans dramatically, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Unbelievable. I survive a stabbing only to be verbally assaulted by my so-called caretaker.”

“Caretaker?” Jeongin snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just prevented you from bleeding all over the floor.”

“Wow.” Jisung clutches at his chest like he’s truly wounded. “And here I thought we had a bond. Well, if I kick the bucket, make sure to tell everyone my last words were that you’re terrible at your job.”

“Noted,” Jeongin replies, leaning back with a sigh. “But unfortunately for you, you’re patched up and stuck with me a little longer.”

Jisung tests the bandage with a careful stretch. “So how much do I owe you for patching me up? Do I get the friend discount?”

“Friends pay double. You whine too much.”

“Excuse me,” Jisung says, scandalized. “I almost died today. I’m entitled to at least a little whining!”

“You could stub your toe and see the face of God.” 

Jisung wags a finger in front of Jeongin’s face. “And yet, here I am, surviving both a stabbing and multiple verbal insults. Truly miraculous.”

“Miraculous?” Jeongin smirks. “Try unfortunate. I was kinda hoping for some peace and quiet.”

“Wow, cold-blooded,” Jisung says as he shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “You’re a savage one, Innie.”

“Maknae on top,” Jeongin replies with a grin, and Jisung bursts out laughing, but not for long. 

“Ow, son of a biscuit-eating motherless goat–-”

“Ooh,” Jeongin gasps, turning to Jisung, who’s hunched over in pain, clutching his side. “You okay?”

“About as okay as a guy who was stabbed with a knife earlier.” 

“Jisung,” Jeongin giggles. “You’ve gotta stay still.”

“Yeah, I’ve since realized that. Now don’t make me laugh again, dammit!” 

“The patient’s always right.”

“I like that phrase. Use it more often.”

“Yes sir.”

The two of them settle back into a content silence. It stays that way for a while, until–

“Do you hear that?”

Jisung’s eyes are wide as he shifts, leaning forwards as much as his injured body can allow. 

Jeongin stiffens immediately. “Hear what?”

“Footsteps,” Jisung cocks his head to the side. “Maybe?”

Jeongin strains his ears to hear, but he can’t pick up any sounds. Concerned, he turns to face Jisung. “Are you having auditory hallucinations, Sung?”

Jisung shakes his head passionately. “No, I swear I hear footsteps!” 

“Jisung, are you sure–”

“Shhh!” 

The cell goes completely silent once more as the two listen intently. Sure enough, there’s a faint sound of multiple footsteps on concrete, echoing down the hall. 

“Shit,” Jeongin curses under his breath. “What if it’s Chris coming back to finish us off?”

Jisung glances around the bare prison frantically. “Should we hide?”

“Hide where?” Jeongin demands, his voice breaking from the panic. 

The two of them search in a frenzy, but sure enough, there is nothing. Any moment now, Chris would unlock the door, march inside, and—

“Jisung? Jeongin?” 

Jisung squeaks in surprise, but Jeongin shushes him. 

“Speak up or forever hold your peace!” another voice shouts.

“Rats,” Jisung hisses. “It’s that traitor Seo Changbin! I’m gonna…I’m gonna—”

Jeongin shoots Jisung a warning look. “Jisung. Shut. Up.”

Suddenly, a female voice bellows, “Jisung and Jeongin, tell us where you are and we’ll explain everything!” 

“Wait a second,” Jisung whispers. “Was that a girl?” 

Jeongin and Jisung glance at each other, realization igniting something deep inside. Jeongin grins. “I guess we never needed to find my savior after all. She found us.”

“You sure we can trust her?” Jisung asks. “What if…”

“She saved my life, and because she did, most of us are still alive right now,” Jeongin replied firmly. “If I hadn’t regained my memories, things could’ve been a lot worse. I think that’s enough evidence that she’s on my side.”

“What if she’s been swayed to join the dark side?” Jisung continues rambling on. “Or, what if it’s not even her at all? What if Changbin is just really good at voice acting, and he can pitch up his voice to represent-–”

“God, Jisung,” Jeongin laughs. “You’re really ridiculous sometimes, aren’t you?”

Jisung sulks. “I’m not ridiculous, I’m just being cautious! I’m panicking here, Innie!” 

“Clearly.”

“That really wasn’t necessary!” 

“Listen, Ji. I say we let them find us. Would you rather rot in this dungeon or take a risk and possibly be saved?” 

“I don’t take risks anymore,” Jisung grumbles. “The last time I went that route, I got stabbed in the gut.”

“I promise I won’t let anyone stab you in the gut. If Changbin goes for you, I’ll fight him off and you can escape. Deal?” 

“If I said that it was a deal, would you think that I’m selfish?”

“Jisung…”

“Okay, fine. Fine. Deal.”

Jeongin nods, then takes a breath to steady himself. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”

Together, the two of them call for help until the footsteps approach, nearing the prison door. The sight that meets their eyes is nothing less than shocking.

Draped over Changbin’s shoulders are two individuals: Lee Minho and Hwang Hyunjin. Beside him, holding another boy, is a girl with long brown hair and hooded eyes. Jeongin looks closer and realizes that the boy who she’s holding is Felix, and his blood boils.

Meanwhile, Jisung freaks out entirely. “I knew it, Innie! I knew it! Look at Seo Changbin with that disgusting grin on his face and two fucking dead bodies over his shoulders! He’s gonna collect our corpses like Pokemon!” 

Changbin looks incredibly confused at this statement. “What—no! They’re alive, see?” He gently nudges Minho’s shoulder, and the older man rouses awake with a sleepy grunt. 

“What the hell, Bin…” he lifts his head and blinks drowsily, making eye contact with Jisung, who immediately flushes a bright shade of red. 

Minho smirks. “Nice to see you, Jisung. Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Suddenly, Jisung remembers something and his mood shifts instantly. He narrows his eyes. “I wish they weren’t alive!” he shouts. “He was the guy who took my playing cards.” Viciously, he points a trembling finger at Hyunjin. “And he fucking poisoned me!”

Jeongin glares at Felix’s unconscious form, his hands balling into tight fists. He points. “Why the hell is he here?” 

“Before I explain anything, I want to say that I’m sorry,” Changbin says quickly. “Really, truly sorry. I wasn’t myself, I guess you could say, when I left you all with the Weaver.” 

“He’s telling the truth,” the girl says, her tone firm. “You can trust us.”

“Coming from the girl who’s carrying a traitor on her back?” Jeongin growls. “Yeah, right.”

“We gave him the antidote,” the girl explains, lifting up a small vial. “He should be back to his regular self soon.”

“Bullshit,” Jeongin shoots back. “He left me and Ji to die in this prison. He was against us from the start.”

“Because he was under the influence of a venom variant that my father used on him!” the girl cries out, desperately. “I saw how he changed. I saw how he was wiped clean, taught how to do horrible things. It wasn’t his fault! He didn’t know right from wrong!” 

“And how do I know that I can trust you?” Jeongin demands. 

“You don’t have to,” the girl murmurs. “But at the least, come with us. We’re all going to escape this together. It’s time we stopped letting my father pit two sides against each other.”

“Please,” Changbin adds, his tone surprisingly soft. 

Jeongin’s jaw clenches in anger, but he mulls it over regardless. He grabs Jisung’s hand and pulls him towards the very back of the prison, out of earshot from the others. 

“I need your opinion on this, Ji,” Jeongin begins seriously. “I know that we’ve both been betrayed many times before. It’s gonna be really hard for us to trust anyone at this point. But I want to know what you think we should do.”

Jisung glances over his shoulder at the group of individuals waiting for their answer. He hesitates. “I don’t know, Innie…but something tells me that they’re telling the truth. I say we take one more leap, and this time, we hope that we’ve made the right choice.”

Jeongin exhales long and hard through his nose.

 “Alright, Ji,” he mutters. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Seungmin knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, and yet he still does. 

He’s scared. 

Even surrounded by bloodthirsty men and women, and led by the most bloodthirsty of them all, he’s fucking terrified. 

Rightfully so, he thinks, because he is about to fight to the death. Or maybe, just maybe, he’ll survive.

He’s never been religious or believed in a god, but he prays to every single deity imaginable that he'll come out of this in one piece. At the very least, alive.

Chris seems to sense his nerves. He sniffs out the weakness like a well-trained hound. 

“Remember Seungmin. I saved you. You wanted to join me, and I gave you a choice,” he says. “So make me proud.”

Seungmin knows it’s true. He also knows that, deep inside himself, there is a passionate anger, an ardent thirst to kill. To feel the blood coating his palms, to slash the throats of any who stand in his way. 

But would it be so wrong to say that he still felt uneasy about it all? 

“Our plan is foolproof,” Chris explains firmly, when Seungmin voices his concerns. “We’ll win this war with sheer numbers.” 

“Is that your plan, then?” Seungmin asks stiffly. “To intimidate our enemies? What if Jack has something up his sleeve? What if the Innocents–”

“If I had known that you would question my authority,” Chris interrupts, his dark eyes narrowing. “Then I would’ve left you in that prison for dead, Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin gulps, hard. His blood boils in anger but somehow he manages to hold his tongue. Chris shoots him a final warning glare before turning back to his troops. 

Then he raises his arms and shouts: “It’s time to bring down this asshole once and for all!” 

A roar rises from the crowd, spine-chilling and barbaric. Seungmin winces at the reverberating sound; it seems to go on for an eternity before being silenced by a single motion. 

Chris continues pressing a finger to his lips, crouching slightly, until the rowdy troops silence completely. Then, his smirk spreads into a mirthless grin.

“I’ll ensure that every single person here gets a turn at driving their weapon through my father’s pitiless fucking heart!” 

And the room explodes with cheers. 

“Go, go, go,” Hannah whispers frantically, as Minho sits at the prison door, picking carefully at the lock. 

“Don’t fucking rush me,” Minho growls. “This is gonna take some time.”

“We don’t have time!” Jisung squeaks out nervously, his gaze flitting from side to side as if scouting out invisible enemies. “What if they come for us?” 

“Knowing Chris, he’s still giving his troops a motivational speech,” Changbin mutters. “Don’t worry your pretty little head off.” 

“Don’t call him pretty,” Jeongin warns. “From what I know about Jisung, any compliments go straight to his head.” 

“Too late,” Jisung grins. “I’m already preparing to strut my stuff.”

“Oh my fucking god.” 

“Can we just leave him in there?”

Jisung pouts at Changbin’s words. “You can’t leave me here. I’m too pretty to die.”

“Will you all just shut up?” Minho snaps, as the makeshift key slips from his hand for the second time. “I’m trying to focus here.”

“Hey you. Guy who stole my playing cards. You won’t let them leave me here, will you?” 

Minho actually pauses to make eye contact with Jisung. “You wouldn’t be as fun as a corpse, so no.”

“Ooh,” Jisung’s eyes sparkle. “He thinks that I’m fun!” 

“So, you’re just gonna forget about how he stole your entire backpack, Sung?” Jeongin snaps, irritably. “Let’s just remember who our enemies are.”

“I can leave you here,” Minho says. “If you’d like.”

Jeongin’s jaw noticeably clenches but he stays silent. 

“Minho was under the influence of the venom,” Hannah explains. “He didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Is that just your excuse for everything?” Jeongin challenges. “Oops, he killed someone in the hallway! He set another person on fire! Don’t worry, he’s not a pyromaniac, he’s just under the influence of the venom. Totally won’t happen again.”

Hannah looks hurt. “Because it won’t!” 

“How do you know for sure?” Jeongin shoots back. “We’re supposed to trust you?” 

“Yes!” Hannah shouts. “I’m trying to get out of here just as much as you are! I’m trying to save lives because there are still people here who need my help!” 

“It’s hard to know who to trust anymore,” Jeongin mutters darkly. “So you’ll have to excuse me. It’s only happened twice today.”

“I get it,” Hannah replies earnestly. “Really, I do. I know that every person here has gone through hell, thanks to my father. But that’s why I made the antidote. That’s why I’m here right now.”

The sound of a heavy metal lock hitting the concrete ground snaps them back to attention. Minho pushes the prison door open with a smirk. 

“Be free,” he quips, stepping aside to let Jisung and Jeongin out of the cell. 

“Thanks, man,” Jisung says, looking guilty. “Listen, uh…I’m really sorry about the rude stuff I said earlier. I forgive you for stealing my backpack.”

Minho blinks. “Ah—thanks.”

Jeongin walks past Minho without a word, but he smiles stiffly to show his gratitude.

Minho shrugs. “Okay. You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, Hannah bends over Felix and her eyebrows furrow. “Hey, he’s starting to move around a bit.”

The others gather around. Sure enough, Felix’s eyes are starting to roll from underneath his eyelids as he tries desperately to wake. 

They stand there silently until Felix’s chest heaves, and he gives a muffled groan. Then his eyes open. Drowsily, he stares up at the small crowd above him, blinking a couple times, before he startles fully awake. 

He screams. 

“HOLY SH—”

“Relax Lix!” Hannah immediately falls to her knees by Felix’s side, and pulls him close. “It’s okay.”

“Hanns? Who are—where am—what’s…” Felix’s words seem to be coming out far before his brain has fully comprehended them. He splutters helplessly, his eyes wide and terrified. 

A pink flush spreads across his freckled cheeks. “Did I…pass out?”

Hannah hesitates. “Something like that.”

“Do you remember anything?” Changbin asks, carefully. He crouches so that he’s level with Felix. 

Felix rubs the back of his head and winces. “I remember-–” His eyes flicker over to Jeongin, and he freezes.

His eyes turn glassy as he struggles to keep his composure. “Oh my god,” he chuckles through his tears. “Oh my god! Innie!” 

Jeongin frowns, confused. “Yeah? It’s me.”

Felix crushes the younger boy in a bone-crushing hug and sobs hard into his shoulder. “I left you at the restaurant all by yourself! I knew that I had to go back to you, I knew that you’d worry, but Chris pulled me away…oh my god, Innie, I missed you, I’m so sorry…I’m such a shitty friend and you probably hate me now and I—”

“Lix,” Jeongin laughs. “Breathe.”

Obediently, Felix sucks in a rattling, teary breath. Then he launches back into a blubbery explanation.

“The last thing I remember is Chris dragging me away from Super Bowl—I was begging him to stop, I was screaming at him…he didn’t listen, Innie, he really didn’t! He took me back home and tossed me into the basement, and then I saw a lab down there, a fucking lab! Jack was there too, he threw me onto the table and strapped me down, and…”

His eyes fill with even more tears. 

“It hurt,” Felix whispers. “It hurt like hell, but I didn’t care. I was trying to hold onto the memories of you.”

His shaking hands grip onto Jeongin’s shirt like a lifeline as he continues, “I’m sorry, Innie. I’m so sorry. I tried my best but it didn’t work, and before I knew it, I wasn’t myself anymore.”

Jeongin glances at Hannah. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. 

I’m sorry. 

I believe you now. 

Thank you.

Hannah doesn’t say anything either. But as she watches Jeongin embrace his closest friend, she smiles. 

You’re welcome. 

Meanwhile, Minho tucks his hands into his pocket and shoulders Changbin, who grins. The two of them observe the reunion from the sidelines. 

“Case closed,” Minho mutters. “I can now die in peace.”

“Case closed?” Changbin repeats, curiously. 

“I was helping the kid find his friend,” Minho explains. “Looks like he doesn’t need any more helping. He’s found him.” 

Changbin chuckles. “You’re a good guy, Lee Minho.”

“I try to be.”

“I’m ready to get the antidote when this is all over,” Changbin whispers. “To finally get my past memories back. To get rid of these bloodthirsty voices in my head.”

“I’ll tell you a little secret. You’re doing a fucking good job of keeping yourself in check,” Minho comments. 

Changbin laughs. “Hell, that means a lot. I’ve just gotta wait a little while longer, right?” 

“Right. The second we get out of here, I’m asking Han Jisung for his number.” 

“Shit! You’re joking, right? You want Jisung’s number?”

“Yeah. He’s cute.”

“He’s a menace.”

“Like I said. Cute.”

“Fuck,” Changbin giggles. “Well, good luck to you, sir.”

Minho smiles, and begins walking to rejoin the others. “Thank you.”

Jisung, who is currently in the process of pretending to record the sweet conversation between Jeongin and Felix, bounces energetically towards Minho. “Hey, Freebooter!” 

Minho tosses a glance back at Changbin before turning back to Jisung. “Hi.”

“I think you’re handsome,” Jisung says bluntly, batting his big, overly-animated eyes and looking like a complete idiot while doing so. 

A cute idiot, though, Minho thinks seriously to himself, as he smiles. 

Behind Minho, Changbin stifles a snort. 

“Thanks,” Minho says.

“You’re welcome,” Jisung replies with a goofy grin. “It should flatter you. Coming from one pretty guy to another.”

“I see what Jeongin meant about comments going to your head,” Minho sighs. 

“Confidence is a good thing,” Jisung argues, very seriously. “Every pretty man should have confidence.”

“You have so much confidence that you’re telling yourself lies,” Changbin teases. “You think you’re pretty? Try looking in a mirror.”

“Ouch,” Jisung feigns injury. “You shouldn’t hurt me like that. It’s mean, and it proves that you have very low self esteem." 

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Quit playing possum, Ji.” 

“Well, he’s a very good possum,” Minho remarks with a smirk, and Jisung practically glows. Pleased, he scurries off to bother someone else. 

Changbin turns back to Minho and breaks into a grin. “Damn, you are down bad.” 

Minho grins back.

“You two,” Hannah calls, abruptly. “Outsiders! Would you get your asses over here?” 

“Manners,” Changbin whines. “No need to be so rude!” 

“I’m not being rude, I’m just being prepared. We need to start moving.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” Hannah says in a grim tone. “We could wait a little longer for Hyunjin to wake up, but it looks like he sustained some nasty injuries. He’s gonna take a little while to come around.”

“Sorry,” Minho apologizes. “While fighting him, I got a little…carried away.”

“Ooh, sexy,” Jisung giggles, earning him a hard slap from Changbin and a disgusted frown from Jeongin.

“I agree with Hanns,” Felix adds. “It’ll be pretty risky to stay here. We don’t know who’s after us.”

“Well, right now, it’s both Jack and Chris,” Jeongin clarifies. “And a bunch of Chris’s troops. I saw them all before they beat me up and threw me into that prison cell.”

Felix winces sympathetically.

“I also assume that Seungmin’s with one of those groups,” Jeongin continues. “He was affected by the venom, remember?” 

“If that’s the case, we’re doomed,” Jisung whines pitifully. “How are we gonna carry one deeply-slumbering man while outrunning hundreds of angry, murderous people? Also, don’t forget about the fact that half of us are injured, too.”

There’s a tense silence, one filled with increasing doubt. They all knew that Jisung could be dramatic, but this time, he was right. They didn’t stand a chance. 

“Not only that, but Jack has security cameras practically everywhere,” Hannah mutters, thinking hard. “I’m actually surprised that he hasn’t filtered through all the footage and found us all yet.”

“He probably knows that there’s nothing we can do,” Minho says. “He’s toying with us. Even if we helped Jisung and Jeongin escape, where would we go?”

“You told us that you knew this place like the back of your hand,” Changbin remarks, turning to Hannah. “So where’s the exit?” 

Hannah hesitates. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Changbin’s voice rises in frustration. “We came this far just for you to tell us that you don’t know how to get out of this fucking hellhole?”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah winces. “But I was hoping that we’d figure it out together.”

“There won’t be a ‘together’ when all of us are dead!” 

“Changbin,” Minho warns, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “We need to stay calm. If we break up again, that will be exactly what Jack wants.”

Changbin takes a couple breaths and nods while Jeongin speaks up. 

“Wait,” Jeongin begins thoughtfully. “I need to ask you all an important question: who is controlling this Game?” 

Hannah answers immediately. “That’s easy. My father.”

“True. But who else?” 

“The Vireos?” 

“Well, not anymore. Most of them are with us, remember?” 

“I don’t know. Who?” 

Jeongin grins at Changbin. “He would know.”

“Me?” Changbin looks offended. “Why would I know?”

“You chained us all to chairs and let this thing in with us.”

Changbin’s face morphed into one of immense guilt. “Right. You’re talking about the Weaver, then?” 

“Exactly,” Jeongin replies, snapping his fingers. “The Weaver could be behind all of this, too.”

“Huh,” Hannah murmurs. “I can sort of see how that could be true?”

“The Game has rules, right?” Jeongin presses on. “Kill people, defend yourself, survive…all of that jazz. But it also has more specific rules. Hoards of spiders will come out of nowhere, led by the Weaver, to bite and inject the venom into unlucky victims. With the flip of a switch, or even without the flip of a switch, sometimes, the walls and floors will capsize like some shitty funhouse.”

“Yeah.” Minho says thoughtfully. “Your point is…?”

“What if, to escape, there’s another rule? What if we have to kill whoever is controlling this Game?” 

“Jack or the Weaver?” Felix hums. “I guess we’d have to go for both.” 

“Yes,” Jeongin replies. “You’ve got it.”

“There’ll be danger with both,” Changbin states weightingly. 

“Yes, especially because of this,” Jeongin pushes forward, his eyes shining determinedly. “Think: why are there so many people dead set on killing others?” 

“Because they were promised something?” Felix guesses.

“Mm, not quite. It’s because something is changing the way they think about things.”

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve lost me there, Innie.”

Jeongin huffs out a breath of air before elaborating. “It’s just a hunch, but I suspect that the Weaver goes out and uses her venom on the players. Even though everyone enters this Game without their memories, a majority of them go into this Game terrified and unwilling to do anything wrong because they haven’t lost their morality. It’s a different variant of the venom, after all. The one that only wipes you of your past memories. These players hide. They avoid violence. Thus, the Weaver makes sure to target them first, and use the other variant of the venom on them.”

“You’re saying that—by using the variant of the venom that is reserved for the Vireos— the Weaver turns the players into bloodthirsty assassins one by one, starting with the most vulnerable,” Minho murmurs, understandingly. 

“Minho’s following,” Jeongin smiles proudly, clapping Minho on the shoulder. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Shit. No wonder all of those poor people who we gave the antidote to earlier just disappeared,” Hannah says. “We painted a target on their backs the second we gave them that antidote. What’s the bet, they’re on my brother’s side now.”

“So why isn’t the Weaver targeting us?” Jisung questions nervously. “I’d say we’re pretty vulnerable. Especially now.”

“Changbin-hyung’s still murderous,” Jeongin teases, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe he’s keeping the Weaver away for us.”

Changbin jokingly flexes his muscles. “You’re welcome. I’m big, I’m bad, and I’m keeping the Weaver away.”

“Joke’s aside,” Minho interrupts. “We should still be careful. Once the Weaver finishes its rounds, it’s gonna target us. No one will be safe from it.”

“Apart from Changbin-hyung, that is,” Jisung points out. 

This pulls a couple laughs from the tense, anxious crowd. 

However, the noise is suddenly accompanied by the sound of disoriented mumbling, then a ruffle of a jacket scuffing along the floor as someone sits up behind them. 

“Nice of you to finally join us, Hwang Hyunjin,” Changbin comments with a smirk. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Like I got hit by a fucking truck,” Hyunjin grumbles. “What happened?”

“You poisoned me, that’s what happened,” Jisung says, looking like he was seconds away from throwing hands. Not like he’d be any good at it, but he would still likely try.

“I didn’t do shit,” Hyunjin shoots back defensively. “I was only trying to find Lix.”

Timidly, Felix steps out from behind the crowd. “Hyune?” 

“Oh, here we go again,” Changbin mutters.

Hyunjin’s eyes shine with realization. He staggers to his feet and then touches Felix gently, as if testing whether or not he was real. He chuckles weakly. “Bullshit. You can’t be real.”

Felix grins. “I assure you I am, Hyune.”

“I…” Hyunjin tries desperately to hold back tears, his voice breaking. “Lix, I…”

Felix dips his head and lets a couple tears of his own fall, splashing onto Hynjin’s outstretched arm. “Damn, Hyune. I missed you so much.”

Hyunjin gives the side of Felix’s head a light slap. “You bastard—I hated you for leaving me.”

The two of them laugh together. 

“That’s what happens when your parents die and you’re taken in by your uncle,” Felix chuckles, ruefully. “Some blessing that turned out to be.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles. “But all that matters is that you’re alive. And you’re here. And…” He hesitates slightly, before pulling Felix closer. “And I love you.”

Felix smiles brighter than ever. “I love you too, Hyune.”

“I really hate to be the one to break up this truly beautiful reunion,” Changbin says. “But I do believe that a group of homicidal bastards are still after us.” 

Hannah glances uneasily up at the security camera in the corner. “We should move.” 

“Move we will, then,” Hyunjin nods, with a final smile at Felix. “Everyone good to go?” 

“If anyone needs first aid, I have a little bit of knowledge from my dad,” Felix pipes up helpfully, after a careful scan of the various injured individuals. 

Jisung shrugs. “I’ll survive.”

“I’ve been stabbed before,” Minho chuckles harshly. “So same here.”

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up, and that’s enough to snap everyone into action. Hannah gives a grim smile. 

“Weapons?” 

There’s a flurry of activity as guns are loaded, arrows prepared on bowstrings, makeshift batons are adjusted in hands, and daggers are unsheathed from side pockets. 

Jisung hitches his dusty orange backpack up on his shoulders and casts a pointed glance in Minho’s direction. “I hope you’ve atoned for your past mistakes,” he grins playfully. 

Minho finishes relacing his boots, tying the knots tight with a sharp jerk of his fingers. “I assure you that your backpack is safe, Ji.” 

“Ready?” Changbin barks, the urgency sharp in his voice.

Felix huffs out a laugh. “As ready as we’ll ever be.” 

Beside Minho, Jisung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Minho turns and smiles, slapping the younger boy on the back. “Let’s go kick some ass.” 

Jisung grins back. “Hell yeah.”

“No one better fucking die on my watch,” Changbin says, before slinging his baton over his shoulder and breaking into a run. 

The others follow, one by one, the sound of their boots slapping the asphalt creating a unified rhythm. Within a couple minutes, they are breathing heavily, the noise joining the steady beat of their footsteps. No one so much as pauses. 

An alarm blares. Heavy and blasting, seemingly worming right into their ears and breaking past their skulls. It’s reverberating, overwhelming, and the type of racket that causes one’s jaw to clench automatically without thought. 

“Dammit!” Hannah curses. “He’s already got eyes on us!” 

“He’s always had eyes on us!” Changbin bellows back. “Now he’s finally getting his lazy ass up and taking us down!” 

“I’d like to see him fucking try,” Minho shouts over the siren. 

Jisung tosses a hasty glance over his shoulder and his eyes widen fearfully. 

“SHIT!” 

“We’ve got company!” Jeongin hollers, as he cocks his revolver in one single, smooth click. “Duck, Jisung!” 

Minho shoves an unprepared Jisung sideways as Jeongin fires off a round of bullets. Hyunjin draws back his bowstring with two fingers, letting fly two arrows. They hit their targets square in the chests, killing them both instantly upon impact. Changbin’s baton makes contact with a woman’s ribs with a sickening crack, driving her backwards. She hisses and scrambles forwards again, unrelenting, her nails digging into Changbin’s arm, ripping his sleeve and drawing blood. 

“Fuck!” Hyunjin curses, pulling back his loaded crossbow again. “Watch your damn six, Seo!” 

The arrow buries itself cleanly into the woman’s chest. Her mouth opens and closes pathetically, her lips moving as if about to form words, but she drops to the floor motionless mere seconds later.

Meanwhile, the klaxons continue to wail, the arena floor trembling underfoot from the sheer volume of the sirens. To their left, a fresh army of even more people thunder towards them, their weapons drawn, their teeth bared. 

“Goddammit, move!” Changbin roars. His baton whistles through the air and aligns perfectly with another enemy’s jaw. With a sharp snap, the bone shifts sideways, and two molars—roots and all—clatter onto the concrete floor below. Changbin kicks the body into another fighter as he pulls his pistol out, using his teeth to hold the used cartridge while reloading with the flat side of his free hand. 

“Changbin, left flank!” Minho calls, his voice calm but sharp, his revolver remarkably steady in his hands. His shots are precise. Each one is a perfect, clean headshot, a quick and painless death for his enemies. His expression stays level, but his eyes flicker toward Jisung, making sure that the clumsy bastard doesn't fall behind.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Jisung yelps as a spear whistles past his head. He trips on a corpse, nearly faceplants, then somehow fires a wild shot that drops an enemy square in the chest. “See? Totally fine! I’m totally—”

“Eyes forward, idiot!” Changbin bellows, yanking Jisung upright by his vest’s collar and shoving him ahead.

Felix uses the heel of his boot to nail an enemy in the side of his face, and wrestles another one to the floor with a single-leg takedown. Hurriedly, he yells over his shoulder, “Ji, just stay behind me, yeah?” 

“Roger that!” 

On the other side of the corridor, arrows hiss sharply through the air—each one hitting its target dead-on. Hyunjin moves like liquid as his crossbow twangs three times, and three kills occur in the blink of an eye. “Hallway’s clear ahead!” he shouts. “Run or we’re fucked!”

Hannah’s already there, driving a knife into a man’s throat and pulling it free in one smooth motion, before launching herself at another. Blood sprays wildly across her arm, painting her limbs red. “This way! There’s ventilation shafts heading into the east wing!”

“Your psycho dad really thought that all of this would be fun?” Changbin spits bitterly, bashing another enemy’s skull in.

“He didn’t think at all,” Hannah snaps back, snatching up someone’s fallen rifle and firing back over her shoulder. “Now shut up and MOVE!”

They sprint for the corridor, their boots skidding from the blood. The air that they suck into their heaving lungs is sharp and metallic. Behind them, the arena thunders with howls. The crowd is bloodthirsty, and now they aren’t just angry.

They’re furious. 

“Ji, Lix, Innie,” Minho barks out an order. “Get behind me!”

But Jeongin is already taking aim, his two revolvers flashing. Every shot hit, dropping armored enemies one by one. “Keep running,” he shouts. “I got you!”

“That kid is a goddamn legend,” Jisung pants, fumbling to reload.

“Admire his skills later,” Hyunjin snaps, delivering another effective head-shot. “Move now!” 

The hallway seems to narrow as sparks fly and bullets ricochet unpredictably off the metal walls. A wild-eyed man lunges, but Changbin meets him head-on, smashing his baton into his skull until the man collapses in a nauseating, bloody mess.

“These fuckers just never learn!” Changbin grins, pausing briefly to spit out a glob of spit and blood.

“Changbin, door!” Hannah shouts, pointing.

Immediately, Changbin lowers his shoulder and rams into the door at the hallway’s end. The wood splinters, the hinges snap, and the door groans once before buckling.

They spill inside, finding themselves in an even darker and narrower corridor. The air smells rancidly of rust, oil, and rot combined. 

“Is this it?” Hyunjin hisses, his crossbow still raised and ready.

“I don’t know!” Hannah yells back. “But it’s either this or slaughter!”

Minho grabs Jisung’s wrist, pulling him close. “Stay with me Ji,” he orders. 

“Not going anywhere,” Jisung answers breathlessly, though his knees shake.

Jeongin cocks his pistols again, smirking despite the sweat running down his face. “Even if this is a dead end, we make our own exit.”

“Fuck yeah we do,” Changbin grins.

The light flickers ahead, faint and barely visible. Either an exit or another trap.

“Right?” Hyunjin asks sharply.

“No, go left!” Hannah says. “Left leads down!”

“Shit!” Jisung yelps, the panic evident in his voice. “Just pick one already!”

“LEFT!” Felix shouts over the chaos. 

There isn’t any time to argue, so they turn left and head deeper into the shadowed tunnel, completely and utterly blind to whether the choice will save them or not. 

In the Arthropod, a single wrong turn doesn’t just cost you the Game.

It sometimes costs you your life. 

Everything is going to plan until the instant Hyunjin speaks. 

“Who the fuck is laughing right now,” he pants, tossing a confused glance over his shoulder. “Han Jisung, shut up.”

“It’s not me!” Jisung squeaks out, his hands raised in defense. 

“It’s not him,” Minho confirms in his calm voice. “It’s coming from the front of the group.”

Hyunjin turns accusingly to Changbin. “You’re always laughing at inappropriate times, aren’t you?”

Changbin grumbles, “It’s not me, you bastard.”

“Then who is it?” Hyunjin says, pissed. “A fucking ghost?”

“Wait a second. Everyone shut your mouths,” Felix mutters, his lips pressed into a worried frown. 

Silence falls upon the group, but the realization hits them all far too late. 

The same laugh, eerie and calm, breaks through their horrified silence. Then a voice cuts through the quiet. 

“Well, well, well…If it isn’t the pathetic pack of little strays.” 

Out of the dark steps Chris, his eyes glinting in the darkness with a disturbing sort of madness. His smile is stretched too wide, and his teeth are bared in a way that is far too unnatural to be truly human.

He chuckles slowly, the sound mocking, each laugh reverberating louder than the last. He tuts, his tongue clicking sharply against the roof of his mouth. “Running, running, always running. I may have refused to work directly for my father, but do you really think that I’d still let you leave this web?”

Behind him, the tunnel fills with an army—men and women, young and old, all with the same empty yet crazed eyes. Every single hand grips a weapon. 

Minho’s eyes flicker back over to Chris, and his breath catches in his throat. Beside him stands Kim Seungmin.

A heavy wooden bat rests across his shoulders, his arms are raised above his head, and his wrists hang casually over the barrel. His face is calmer than Chris’s. It can almost be considered blank. But that emptiness, in a way, is worse. Seungmin’s dark eyes flicker, hesitant for a mere second, before narrowing. He straightens, his overconfident posture stiffening. He shifts the bat into one hand, tapping it against the concrete floor as his head tilts to the side. Surveying the opponents in front of him, analysing them, picking out their weaknesses with just a stare. 

“Oh fuck,” Jisung whispers, his voice cracking.

Chris’s gaze snaps to him briefly, and his grin stretches impossibly wider. “Ah, the little one squeaks.” He gives a low, cruel chuckle. “I’ll save him for last. The weak ones’ screams always make for such music.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Changbin snarls, his baton clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

Chris only laughs louder. “Ah, Bin! So angry. So predictable. You’ll break beautifully.”

Hannah’s jaw clenches, her voice shaking. “Chris, please! Fight it. I know you can. Please, this isn’t you!”

Chris tilts his head. “Isn’t it? This is more me than I’ve ever been, my father’s shitty venom or not. I’m making my own decisions! I feel alive and I finally—finally—have a fucking purpose.”

Minho’s revolver rises smoothly, aiming at Chris's temple. “Purpose or not, you’re in our way.”

Chris’s eyes gleam. “Oh, detective. You think that little toy will save you? By the time you reload, my army will be cleaning the flesh off your bones.”

Hyunjin steps forward and aims his own weapon at Chris’s chest, joining Minho at the front of the group. “Then we won’t give you time,” he smirks. 

Chris’s lips twist into something like a poorly-disguised smile and his composure shatters the tiniest bit. He huffs out a shocked laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, before raising a hand. He snaps his fingers, and instantly, all hell breaks loose.

Changbin swings his baton as the first wave lunges. Bones crack, blood sprays, and bodies slam into the floor. Beside him, Jeongin’s pistols flare, his shells clinking against the concrete beneath him. Three men drop in quick succession after he fires. 

Defending from behind, Hyunjin splits one man’s eye and fires an arrow through another’s ear. She screams and falls to the floor, writhing and choking on her own blood until she falls completely silent. Meanwhile, Hannah slams a scavenged pipe into a man’s ribs, hearing the snap of bone and the resounding screams. She curses under her breath as another enemy quickly takes his dead partner’s place. She hesitates for just a second too long.

A blade slashes down towards her neck, glinting in the dim light. She has no time to do anything else other than close her eyes. 

“FUCKING MOVE!” Changbin roars, as his baton cracks the attacker’s skull open right there on the floor. Blood sprays across the concrete, thick and scarlet. 

Jeongin comes sprinting after, his pistols lighting up the corridor. Each shot has an almost robotic accuracy, dropping bodies in sprays of gore. “Keep pushing!” he shouts, sweat slicking his face.

Hannah opens her mouth to reply when a sharp crack echoes to her left. A bat slams into the stone wall inches away from Hyunjin’s head.

Hyunjin’s arrow clatters to the floor, and his eyes snap to the side. Seungmin stands there, his bat already raised and swinging again.

“Shit!” Hyunjin ducks as the bat whooshes past, close enough to graze his temple.

“Kim Seungmin!” Minho shouts from the corner, where he has his opponent in a headlock. “You’d better cut it the fuck out!” 

At the sound of Minho’s voice, Seungmin turns his head toward him, but only slightly. For a second, something flickers in his eyes. Hesitation. 

However, then the fire, the burning desire to kill, roars back hotter and sharper. He swings yet again, forcing Changbin to intervene with a block from his mace.

The impact rings heavily through the corridor. The metal of Changbin’s baton cracks against the wood of Seungmin’s bat. Changbin’s muscles ripple as he shoves back, his teeth gritted as he strains hard. 

“You wanna fucking go?!” Changbin growls, sweat and blood mingling together at his hairline before dripping down his face.

Seungmin doesn’t answer. His bat comes around again in a wide swing, the blow forcing Changbin backward. Felix jumps in to guard Changbin’s back, quickly getting tangled up in a fight of his own. Seungmin’s bat smashes down beside Felix’s neck next, inches away from his ear. 

“STOP IT!” Hannah shrieks, hurling her pipe like a spear. It clangs off Seungmin’s shoulder, but he barely flinches. Instead, he steps forward, his bat rising yet again.

Jisung stumbles back in panic, tripping over a corpse. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK!” He raises his pistol and fires wildly again. One of the bullets grazes Seungmin’s forearm.

Seungmin’s head snaps toward him.

“Shit!” Jisung yelps, scrambling to reload.

Unhesitatingly, Minho steps in front of Seungmin, blocking him. Holding his revolver steady with both hands, he mutters, “Over my dead body.”

Seungmin’s eyes meet Minho’s, his bat lifts higher, and then the fight truly begins.

The bat swings by in a blur. Minho ducks past the first blow easily, but before he can even make his own move, the second strike comes down with bone-crushing force. He barely manages to get his hands up in time to block it with his revolver. The weapon shudders in his hands, and his wrist pops sharply with a grinding snap. 

“Aah–”

Minho bites back a scream. His entire wrist is on fire, from his fingertips all the way down to the middle of his forearm. The pain is making it hard to focus, dulling his reflexes. The next hit crashes hard against his shoulder, and he cries out, collapsing to his knees. 

“Someone’s gotta help Minho!” Felix shouts over the noise, before an armor-clad man brutally tackles him to the floor. 

Meanwhile, Minho forces himself to focus and rolls left. The bat smashes into the floor where he had been just seconds ago, and the stone shatters into a shower of gravel. Minho’s fingers find the trigger and he fires. The shot grazes Seungmin’s side, but the younger man has no reaction. 

“Damn,” Minho pants. “Are you even human anymore, Seung?” 

The words go ignored as Seungmin knocks the gun out of Minho’s hands. It clatters to the floor, and Jisung screams Minho’s name, scrambling forwards without thought. 

“Stay back!” Minho barks as he sways dangerously, but his good arm is already reaching for the spare knife strapped securely to his thigh. He lunges in close, aiming for Seungmin’s ribs, but the younger man twists, catching Minho’s wrist and shoving him back against the wall. 

“MINHO!” Changbin roars, ripping through a crowd with his baton. 

Chris waggles a finger. “Uh uh uh!” he giggles gleefully. “Let the detective dance with death!” 

Seungmin moves forward again, slow and deliberate. He raises the bat again. 

Minho steadies himself, preparing for the blow. His chest heaves and sweat and blood streak down his face, blurring his eyesight, but he holds his knife ready. 

“You want me?” he taunts under his breath with a smirk. “Then you’d better finish the job.”

In response, the bat slams into Minho’s knife. His arm quakes with the force, his muscles screaming. 

Another swing. Another block. 

Minho's shoulder burns, his wrist screams, and his lungs feel like they are tearing apart with each gulp of air.

But he doesn’t falter.

Not once. 

“You’re not taking me,” Minho hisses through clenched teeth.

Seungmin swings low, but Minho twists past it, his knife slicing across Seungmin’s face. Blood sprays, and for the first time, Seungmin flinches. His bat falters, and Minho seizes his chance.

He rams his shoulder hard against Seungmin, pressing him into the stone wall, knife against his throat.

Almost unnoticeably, Seungmin’s gaze flickers, and in its place is fear. Raw, genuine, human fear. His chest heaves, his grip trembling around the bat.

“Minho!” Hannah sprints forward, a vial in hand. In a single smooth motion, she uncorks it and splashes a drop onto Seungmin’s arm. “There.”

The reaction is instant. Seungmin lets out a choked gasp, his eyes widening as his bat clatters from his hand. His body convulses, then goes completely limp, collapsing against Minho before sliding down to the floor.

Hannah drops to her knees beside him. “He’s gonna be out cold for a while, but he’s free,” she says, firmly. “Once he wakes, the venom won’t be in control of him anymore.”

Minho points sharply at Hannah and orders, “Stay with him. Protect him. The Weaver will target him now, harder than ever.”

Then he snatches the vial from Hannah’s grip. There are barely a few drops sloshing inside. He locks eyes with Changbin and hurls it toward the younger man. “Your turn, Seo!”

The vial lands in Changbin’s palm, cool and smooth. He wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle and glances down at the shimmering liquid. At the sight of the antidote, the venom inside of him pulses even harder, and the voices get louder. The whispers turn to shouts. An inhale catches in his throat. 

He uncorks the vial, his hand hovering. 

One drop left.

His eyes lift. He looks past Minho, past Hannah cradling Seungmin, past the mob being held back by Jeongin, Felix and Hyunjin. 

To Chris.

Chris stands at the far end of the tunnel, grinning wide, his teeth glinting under the dim light from above. He looks so wrong. 

Twisted. 

Something hollow had replaced whatever he used to be.

Changbin freezes, the vial shaking in his hand. To think that he could end the constant whispers, the endless clawing at the back of his head.

But Chris. Chris was worse. Chris needed it more.

Changbin’s shoulders shake once as he shuts his eyes tight. Then he opens them with a quick exhale. “Fuck it,” he mutters. “He needs it more than me.”

His grip tightens around the vial. He looks one more time at Chris’s empty, broken eyes and feels the truth settle heavy in his chest.

If he has to live with the monstrous voice forever, so be it.

He could survive it.

But Chris? Chris needed to be pulled back from the abyss.

Changbin raises his head, his lips curling into a defiant snarl. “This is for you, you bastard,” he mutters, giving the vial a little toss before gripping it tight.

Then he moves, charging straight toward Chris with the last of the antidote in his fist.

“So desperate,” Chris sneers, as Changbin sprints toward him. “How adorable.”

Changbin ignores the taunts, raising his baton instead. He brings it behind his shoulder, then cracks it back down in a wild swing, forcing Chris to defend himself by leaping backwards. 

The grin disappears and Chris snarls, retaliating with a slash from his blade. “So this is how it’ll be?” 

Changbin draws a hand across his nose, wiping away a smear of blood. “Bring it on, motherfucker.”

“You’re nothing without your rage,” Chris laughs as he dodges yet another swing. His knife glints in the air before coming down across Changbin’s bicep. Blood sprays, but Changbin keeps fighting. “Come on, Binnie, get angry!” 

“Fuck that,” Changbin spits, bringing his baton down hard. “I don’t need rage to fight you!” 

Chris cackles. “Prove it!”

Changbin doesn’t hesitate. He drives his knee into Chris’s gut, hard. Chris gasps, his body folding for just a second. But a second is all Changbin needs. 

Changbin slams the older man against the wall, his forearm crushing his throat. With his free hand, he smashes the vial against Chris’s skin.

The antidote hisses, soaking into Chris’s veins.

Chris screams, the sound raw and broken, as he writhes like an animal in pain. His body convulses, thrashing against Changbin’s grip.

“Stay down,” Changbin growls, pinning him harder.

Then Chris goes limp, his blade clattering to the floor. 

Without their leader, the mob falters, their frenzy breaking. Minho’s revolver finishes off the last of them, the gunfire booming in the corridor multiple times. 

The screams die off quickly. The tunnel reeks of blood, sweat, and gunpowder, but the survivors can only think of one thing: 

They won.

One by one, they collapse, half from relief, half from pure exhaustion. Changbin staggers back, his baton slipping from his hand as he drops into a trembling squat, his chest heaving. Nearby, Minho lowers himself against the wall, blood dripping from his shoulder, his revolver loose in his lap. Felix wobbles unsteadily on his feet, looking equally as pale and faint.

Hyunjin leans heavily on his knees, gasping, his crossbow dangling from one shoulder. Hannah crouches over Seungmin’s unconscious body, eyes wide and shining, but her lips pull into a tiny, relieved smile. 

In the corner, Jisung collapses flat on his back, wheezing, his arms spread wide like he might never move again. Jeongin drops to a knee, reloading out of habit even as his hands tremble.

They’re alive. Bleeding, broken, exhausted. But alive.

For the first time, the battle is over.

“We… we did it,” Jisung whispers hoarsely. “We fucking did it.”

A laugh bubbles out of Hyunjin’s throat, sharp and disbelieving. “Holy shit. We’re not dead.”

Then—

Clap.

The sound cracks through the silence like a whip.

Everyone’s heads snap toward the tunnel’s mouth.

A new shadow emerges, walking calmly. Too calmly. 

His footsteps are measured, unhurried, as if he hadn’t just witnessed hell unfold.

“Congratulations,” the man says smoothly, his voice low and sickly sweet.

Jack Bang.

Hannah freezes, blood draining from her face. “...Father.”

“Shit,” Felix gasps. “Shit, shit, shit—”

Beside him, the shadows shift, and something impossibly massive crawls forward. It has legs of blackened steel, its joints clicking like machinery, and a gleaming body, as shiny as polished metal. However, perhaps what is most disturbing is the cluster of glowing and unblinking red eyes, every single one fixed on its targets.

The air grows heavier as the Weaver’s mandibles click, the sound sharp and terrifying in the silent corridor. 

“You’ve done well,” Jack says, his smile almost proud. “The last remaining survivors. Stronger than all the rest. Smarter. Fitter. More… beautiful.”

No one moves. Their weapons lift weakly, but no one trusts their shaking hands and exhausted bodies to leap into action.

Jack’s smile deepens. “And so…” He spreads his arms wide. “I am ready to give you all your reward. The Weaver’s… Gift.”

“Bullshit,” Minho whispers, but his voice trembles. “There is no Gift.”

Jack sighs. “I was hoping you would keep that a secret.”

Before anyone could react, arcs of electricity burst from the walls, tendrils of white-hot light lashing across their bodies.

The shock tears screams from their throats as their muscles seize and their weapons clatter from their limp fingers. One by one, they collapse, convulsing on the stone.

And soon, all of them fall silent as the darkness swallows them whole.