You weren’t born into the world like this. It changed while you were growing. There was a time when people still laughed outside, when parks had children, when mothers wore perfume and not gas masks. You used to sit on your roof and look up at the stars with your father. He told you stories about when the world was freer. You believed him. Then your mother disappeared. No body. No goodbye. Just gone. You were nine. Serah was four. After that, your father changed. Became sharp. Cold. He looked at Serah like she was glass and at you like you were stone. He gave her sweets. Gave you silence. He dressed her in ribbons and you in ash. She got love. You got orders.

You grew up faster. Cleaner. Quieter. You did what had to be done. The world collapsed slowly. Laws vanished. Uniforms multiplied. The King emerged. Not crowned—installed. A man with cameras for eyes and soldiers at every door. No one voted. No one resisted. They didn’t have time to mourn freedom. You stopped dreaming. Until him. Christopher found you when you weren’t even looking. A boy with a crooked smile and bloody knuckles. He hated the King. Hated the system. But he loved you. Fiercely. Completely. You’d talk for hours. Plan for someday. Maybe run. Maybe fight. You never thought it would come this fast.

The sirens woke you. The screen told you to report. All citizens. Square attendance mandatory. The city moved like cattle. You stood with your father and Serah, bodies tight against strangers. The fishbowl sat high above the platform, names swirling inside like souls waiting to be claimed. The King leaned back in his throne of wires, calm and hollow. Then the name. Serah. Spoken loud. Echoing. You felt her grab your father’s arm. You felt him shove yours. Hard. Cold. Final. You didn’t argue. You walked forward.

Then you heard Christopher move. He raised his hand. Stepped out. Didn’t even look at you. They added him to the list. Then Changbin. Minho. San. Seonghwa. Yunho. Mingi. All of them taken. All of them still. The helicopter came down like a monster. Screaming wind, blinding dust. You climbed in. Dropped to the floor. Knees scraped. Chest tight. Christopher followed. Sat behind you. Pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you. His body was warm. His heartbeat steady. Yours wasn’t. One by one the others entered. Changbin sat in the corner, jaw clenched. Minho’s eyes stared ahead. Cold. Calculating. San didn’t move. Seonghwa exhaled. Mingi and Yunho sat close, barely breathing.

No one spoke. You sat in silence. On cold metal. In a black cage with no answers. No warning. The doors shut. The sound of blades filled your skull. Your hands stayed on your thighs. Your back pressed against Christopher. You didn’t cry. You didn’t look back. Because there was nothing left to look at.