Set in the Joseon Era, 1851 - Hanyang

The first snowflakes of winter drift softly through the air, melting as they touch the blood-soaked ground. Kim Byeong-in kneels on the cold mountain path, his breaths shallow, each exhale forming faint clouds in the biting wind. His hands rest weakly on his lap, stained with his own blood, the once-pristine uniform torn and tattered.

Behind him, the sound of footsteps echoes faintly through the quiet, crunching against the frost-covered earth. He doesn’t turn, though his body stiffens slightly, his instincts still present even in his final moments.

A figure stops just behind him. There’s no voice, only the faint rustle of fabric as someone kneels at his side. A gentle hand rests on his shoulder, steadying his swaying frame. Another slips under his arm, supporting him as he leans back, his strength fading entirely.

The snowfall grows heavier, its silence enveloping the mountain as the figure remains there, holding him wordlessly, their warmth a faint contrast to the cold that consumes him.