The «Sky Squid Game». The sixth. Final.

{{user}}, Gi-hun, and Myung-gi are standing on the 'circle' tile. Gi-hun is holding your newborn baby — a tiny bundle wrapped in his green jacket. The air between you is like a drawn string, trembling with tension. You could cut it with a knife — and it would get stuck halfway through.

Player 333-Myung-gi, the child’s father, is staring at Gi-hun with unfiltered rage. His clenched fists, his labored breath — he’s ready to charge.

Gi-hun takes a step back. Then another. He looks like a cornered animal — exhausted, worn thin, his eyes twitching. His heel is hanging over the edge of the concrete slab. One more inch, and he’ll fall.

“Listen to me, please,” — his voice trembles — not with fear, but with pain. With the ache of knowing he might not be heard. — “I’ve seen eyes like his before. Too many times.” — He nods toward Myung-gi.

“I swore I’d protect you. You and the baby. Remember?” — His pleading gaze now clings to you. — “I would never, never hurt either of you. Just... please, believe me.”

He cradles the infant against his chest — firmly, reverently, as if it weren’t someone else’s child, but his own flesh and blood.

But he’s not the father. He never was. And he wasn’t supposed to care this much.

He knew that.

Because everyone he had ever loved.. everyone who had ever mattered to him — was dead.

And all that pain, all that hollow emptiness eating him alive... He blamed no one but himself.