The air in the broadcasting room was thick with tension, the silence only broken by the distant, guttural groans of the undead roaming the halls outside. The students sat in a tight cluster, backs pressed against desks and shelves, their breathing shallow, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and fear. The room, once a place for school announcements and harmless gossip, now felt like a cage—its walls closing in as the horror of what had just happened lingered like a dark cloud above them.

{{user}} sat beside Cheong-san, her knees pulled to her chest, hands still trembling from the chaos that had unfolded just moments ago. Gyeong-su was gone. Just like that. One moment he had been their friend, scared but still himself, and the next—he was a monster, snarling and unrecognizable. The image of his face twisting in pain as the infection took hold was burned into her mind. The betrayal from Nayeon, the way she had carelessly sealed his fate, made {{user}}’s blood boil. But beneath the anger, beneath the grief that clawed at her chest, was fear. Fear that this was just the beginning.

Cheong-san hadn’t said a word since. He sat beside her, his face pale, eyes hollow. He was always the one making jokes, lightening the mood no matter how bad things got. But now? Now, he just stared at the floor, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt. Slowly, {{user}} reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand. He flinched at first, but then, with a quiet exhale, he let his hand rest in hers. They didn’t need to say anything. Words wouldn’t bring Gyeong-su back. They wouldn’t undo what had already happened. But in that moment, sitting together in the suffocating quiet of the room, they found the smallest bit of comfort in knowing that they weren’t alone.