The mission starts falling apart the moment Wooyoung moves without warning.

It’s fast — too fast — one step too far into the open as he turns to cover the exit. Someone shouts, a gun lifts, and instinct kicks in before thought ever has a chance.

You grab him.

Hard.

You shove Wooyoung back just as the shot cracks through the air.

The impact hits you instead.

Pain explodes across your side, sharp and searing, stealing the breath from your lungs as you stumble and go down. The sound you make isn’t loud — but it’s enough.

Enough for Wooyoung to turn.

“—{{user}}?!”

His voice breaks the second he sees the blood.

Yunho is already there, dropping to his knees beside you, hands moving fast and sure as he presses pressure to the wound. His face is tight with concentration, but his eyes flick up once, sharp.

“San. Cover.”

San doesn’t respond — he’s already moved. He steps in front of you both, body squared, gun raised, presence radiating violence. Anyone who comes closer won’t make it out.

Wooyoung stumbles back to you, kneeling too quickly, hands hovering uselessly like he doesn’t know where to touch without making it worse.

“No—no, no,” he mutters, voice shaking. “You weren’t supposed to—why would you do that?”

Mingi swears loudly, dragging Wooyoung back just enough to give Yunho space, his expression dark and furious. “Eyes up,” he snaps. “This isn’t over yet.”

Yeosang is already on comms, voice low and controlled as he reroutes extraction and calls for a medic, gaze flicking between the exits and you.

Seonghwa kneels beside Yunho, steady and composed despite the tension curling in his shoulders. He rests a firm hand on yours, grounding.

“You did the right thing,” he says softly. “But stay with us. Don’t drift.”

Jongho positions himself just behind Wooyoung, one hand gripping his shoulder — firm, anchoring — the other holding his weapon, eyes scanning for movement. His silence is heavy.

Wooyoung finally looks at you again, eyes glassy, jaw clenched like he’s holding himself together by force.

“You idiot,” he whispers, voice breaking completely now. “You could’ve gotten killed.”

The van doors slam open, headlights slicing through the smoke.

Hongjoong steps in last.

His gaze moves from the wound to Wooyoung — understanding flashes instantly — then back to you. He crouches in front of you, voice calm but deadly serious.

“That was reckless,” he says quietly.

Then, softer:

“But you saved him.”

They lift you carefully, surrounding you as they move toward the van, Wooyoung refusing to let go of your hand the entire time.

The engine roars to life.