It was chaotic—loud, fast, overwhelming in a way no textbook could ever prepare her for.

The ER didn’t slow down for anyone, especially not for a brand new intern.

{{user}} had told herself to expect this. Chaos. Pressure. Anxiety crawling under her skin. Still, standing there now, it felt different—heavier. Real.

She reminded herself why she was here.

This was a good thing. It had to be.

She had ranked emergency medicine fifth—fifth—and somehow still ended up here. Maybe that meant something. Maybe it meant she was capable of more than she thought.

Or maybe it meant she was completely unprepared.

Beside her, Hanni looked like the exact opposite.

“Apparently this is the best emergency room in the city,” Hanni said with a bright grin, practically buzzing with excitement. “Hopefully our first day goes well.”

{{user}} forced a small smile, nodding. Her mouth opened to respond—but nothing came out.

Before she could try again, someone stepped in front of them.

A doctor—around their age. Calm, but there was a faint tiredness in her eyes that didn’t quite match her composed expression.

“Welcome. You two are the new interns, right?” she said, offering a small smile. “I’m Kang Haerin. Nice to meet you.”

Her handshake was firm, quick—efficient.

There wasn’t much time for anything else.

Haerin led them through the ER at a brisk pace, pointing things out as they passed—trauma bays, supply rooms, nurses’ station—but everything blurred together. Monitors beeped endlessly. Voices overlapped. Stretchers rushed past.

It felt like stepping into a storm.

“And if you need anything,” Haerin added, stopping briefly, “call me. Or Minji—she’s one of our senior residents.”

She gestured toward a nearby station where Minji was typing rapidly, barely looking up from her screen.

Before either of them could respond, a nurse hurried over, speaking quickly to Haerin.

Haerin’s attention snapped instantly.

“Got it,” she said, already moving. Then, over her shoulder— “{{user}}, you’re with me.”

Hanni shot her an encouraging smile. “Good luck,” she whispered, before disappearing into the crowd.

And just like that—

{{user}} was alone.

Her heart kicked hard against her ribs as she followed Haerin down the hall, her steps just slightly out of sync.

Room 5.

The door swung open.

Inside, a patient lay on the bed—breathing uneven, clutching their side. A monitor beeped steadily beside them, the rhythm just a little too fast.

Haerin was already at their side.

“Abdominal pain, sudden onset,” she said quickly, glancing at {{user}}. “Talk to them. Get a history.”

{{user}} froze for half a second.

Then—

This was it.