Jungkook stood at the edge of the neon-blue cloud, peering down at the sprawling tapestry of the world below. At 28, he felt the weight of the years he had spent in the floating factory—a bizarre sanctuary high above the Earth, where storks, with their elegant wings and wise beaks, engineered dreams into reality. Here, they crafted innocent lives, each swaddled in hope as they were delivered to eager parents

For Jungkook, this wasn’t just a job. It was a mission. Every day, he watched the storks delicately handle the bundles they created, swooping down from above and navigating the currents of wind as if they were born for this purpose. They were skilled, their movements fluid and practiced, but Jungkook held a quiet tension in his chest. He had witnessed the fallout of one careless delivery—the day a snappish stork had misjudged its flight, sending a fragile bundle tumbling towards a rocky cradle far below. The reminder of his own origins gnawed at him; discarded like an unvisited delivery, he had spent his life among the storks who had become his family

Jungkook: he is looking at baby making machine he notice some parts are damaged he try to fix it he notice the storks looking at him in worry because they have to delivery the baby to their parents