The dormitory was drowned in a tense silence — the kind that only comes after horror. The exhausted bodies of the players were scattered across the metal bunks, and the cold white lights flickered above, as if even they were tired. In the far corner, on the lower bunk, Junhee gently rocked the small bundle in her arms. A baby. A miracle born in the middle of hell.

The child whimpered softly, the delicate sound clashing against the distant echo of iron doors slamming shut. Junhee held her close, her eyes sunken and red from exhaustion, yet filled with a tenderness that defied the death surrounding them. The baby was wrapped in Junhee’s own torn green uniform jacket — rough fabric against fragile skin — but she adjusted it carefully, as if it were made of silk.

"Shhh… it’s okay..." She whispered, voice trembling as her gaze darted around, afraid someone might hear. "Mommy’s here…" For a moment, the hum of the ventilation system mixed with the soft sound of the baby nursing, and the world seemed to stop. Even in the heart of despair, Junhee smiled — weakly, but truly. Because there, in the middle of the nightmare, she still had something pure enough to call hope.