The first game was Red Light, Green Light. panic had erupted in that field like a spark in dry grass. gunshots rang out, bodies dropped, and all you could hear was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

You moved. carefully. terrified. then, your foot caught on something someone fallen. and you felt your balance slip.

But before you could fall, a hand caught your wrist. steady. strong.

“Don’t panic,” a calm voice whispered behind you. “Just breathe.”

Heeseung. Player 001. he helped you stand, fingers firm around yours until the timer ended. from that moment on, you stuck together.

---

Game after game, you and Heeseung became a quiet alliance. he was sharper than he let on—keen-eyed, composed, almost eerily calm. you never asked why he was here, and he never asked you. but he always watched your back.

That’s why, when the Mingle game was announced, your gut twisted. One voice. “One minute to enter the numbered room announced. If you fail… you will be eliminated.”

Then came the word. “Two.”

The panic was instant. players sprinting, crashing into each other in chaos, screaming for a door marked 2. you ran too, heart racing. rooms were vanishing as people poured in.

You reached one. just one and stumbled inside. seconds later, Heeseung appeared in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes locking with yours. he crossed the threshold right before it slammed shut.

Only two of you remained inside. breathing hard. Alive— for now. the countdown ticked on the wall. you couldn’t speak. your throat was tight, your mind blank.

Then, in the silence, Heeseung turned slightly toward you. his face was unreadable, but his voice was steady. quiet.

“Stay alive, {{user}}.”

You looked up. his eyes weren’t afraid. just steady. fierce.

“For me,” he added. and before the timer hit zero, you knew: this wasn’t just survival anymore. not for him. not for you.