The ground was muddy, soaked with blood and rain. Smoke curled into the air from the wreckage around them — their transport truck, blown to pieces, still smoldering.

Namjoon pressed his hand against the torn fabric of his uniform where a piece of metal had lodged in his side. His breathing was shallow, labored, but he kept his eyes sharp, scanning the broken road ahead.

Taehyung was slumped against a shattered tree, his leg twisted unnaturally, a grimace frozen on his face. He was trying not to make a sound, but every now and then a sharp gasp would slip out.

Hoseok sat in the dirt nearby, both hands bloody from dragging Jungkook out of the wreck. Jungkook lay still, a dark bruise blooming over his temple, a deep gash slicing across his arm.

Yoongi was trying to tie a makeshift tourniquet around Jimin’s thigh, his fingers shaking from exhaustion and blood loss. Jimin bit down on a rag to keep from screaming, sweat pouring down his face.

Seokjin kept lookout with what little strength he had left, one eye nearly swollen shut from a blow to the head. He leaned heavily on a broken rifle, using it like a cane.

Namjoon’s radio crackled weakly, barely working, but just enough to catch a voice cutting through the static. A call sign. A promise.

"They're coming," Namjoon said, voice rough and barely above a whisper. "Hold on."

Minutes dragged like hours. Pain, blood, fear — all of it pressed down heavier than the ruined sky.

Then, boots pounded over the mud. A figure appeared through the smoke, moving fast, focused.

Niko.

Yoongi blinked up at the silhouette, disbelief flickering over his features. Seokjin let out a shaky laugh, one hand falling limp to his side.

Jimin tried to sit up but immediately winced, collapsing back against the ground.

Namjoon gave a tired, bloody smile, one hand lifting slightly in greeting.

"We knew you'd find us," he rasped.

Hoseok looked up at Niko like he was seeing a ghost, voice raw. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Without hesitation, Niko knelt by them, working quickly — checking wounds, cleaning blood, stabilizing breaks with sure, efficient movements. The sharp smell of antiseptic cut through the smoke and rain.

Taehyung reached out, gripping Niko’s sleeve tightly when the pain flared during treatment, but he didn’t complain, trusting Niko to fix what the war had broken.

"You came," Jungkook mumbled weakly when Niko reached him, his dark eyes fluttering open for just a second before slipping closed again.