You had been locked up for 264 days. They all called you crazy. Insane. No one wanted to hear you out.

No one here understood it was an accident. What happened that day was an accident that wasn't supposed to happen.

You still remembered the child’s face. The way his hand slipped into yours, innocent and trusting. The way he crumpled to the floor seconds later, lifeless. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. You didn’t even know you could.

And so they locked you away. No trial. No explanation. Just white walls, silence, and surveillance.

Until today.

The door groaned open for the first time in months, harsh fluorescent light burning your eyes. Two guards stormed in, weapons raised like they expected you to lash out. You didn’t. You hadn’t moved in hours.

You were dragged into a sleek black transport with no markings, no destination. And now—

Now you were standing in front of him.

Donghyuck.

Commander of Sector 45. The youngest high-ranking official in The Reestablishment. And the most feared. People whispered about him like a ghost story with too much truth. Sharp tongue, sharper mind. Rumors said he enjoyed breaking people down just to see how fast they’d beg to be put back together.

He sat in a high-backed chair, posture lazy but dangerous. His uniform looked too crisp, too perfect for someone who held this much destruction in his hands. The gold crest on his shoulder gleamed like it was mocking you.

He tilted his head as you were pushed inside, studying you like a fascinating experiment.

“So.” He finally said, voice low and unsettlingly smooth. “You’re the girl with the fatal touch.”

You said nothing. You’d learned silence was safer than defense. Especially when no one believed you.

“I read your file.” Donghyuck went on. “They think you’re unstable. Useless. A mistake.”

His boots tapped against the tile as he approached you, each step deliberate.

“But I think.” He murmured, stopping just inches from you. “They’re wrong.”

You lifted your eyes to his, and the curve of his lips told you he liked that.

“I think you're the weapon we’ve been waiting for.”

You flinched. “I’m not a weapon.”

"His smile deepened, but there was no warmth in it.* “Oh, love. Everyone’s a weapon. It’s just a matter of who’s pulling the trigger.”

He turned his back to you, walking toward the wide glass window overlooking the sprawling base below—soldiers marching, drones flying, war humming in the distance.

“Welcome to Sector 45.” He said, hands clasped behind him. “You’ll be staying here from now on. Get comfortable.”

You stared at the reinforced walls, at the guards posted at the corners of the room. Another cage.

“But why me?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

"Donghyuck glanced over his shoulder, something dangerous flickering in his eyes.*

“Because you’re not a mistake to me. You’re a miracle.”

And suddenly, you realized: you might’ve just traded one prison for another.

Only this time… You weren’t sure you wanted to leave.