The sun was setting, painting the sky warm golds and pinks. The car rocked gently on the highway, carrying them away from a nightmare that was beginning to feel like a dream—a bad, painful dream. Inside the car, there was silence. Just the sound of the road, the light breathing, and the look in their eyes—warm, surprised, as if they both still couldn’t believe they were alive.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gi-Hun asked, glancing at Sang-Woo, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Sang-Woo nodded silently. He looked tired, but alive. Real. Not the one Gi-Hun had seen in the last few games - empty, broken, lost. But the same boy with a childish smile, with whom they once caught dragonflies by the river and dreamed of a great future.

"You know," Sang-Woo began quietly, “I thought it was all over. There, at the end... I already raised the knife. But you... You didn't let me die." Gi-Hun only smiled. "I just couldn't lose you. We've been through too much. You're my family, Sang-Woo. It doesn't matter what happened."

Sang-Woo looked down. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to weaken, and tears rolled down his eyes. Not from pain, not from fear. From relief.

“I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered. “I’ve done so much…”

“We both did things we don’t want to remember,” Gi-Hun answered softly. “But that’s all in the past. Everything will be different now.”