The stairwell reeked of blood and rust. Cheong-san’s bat slammed against concrete, the echo swallowed by the sound of the dead below. He didn’t see Gwi-nam drop from the landing until it was too late—both of them crashing into the railing hard enough to bend metal. The bat clattered away.

They fought hand-to-hand, wild and desperate. Gwi-nam’s grin never faltered. Cheong-san caught a glimpse of movement—your figure at the edge of the steps, weapon in hand, shouting his name before striking. The blow landed, but Gwi-nam’s hand snapped out, catching your sleeve. You stumbled, he pulled, and then—teeth. The sound was sharp and wet.

You gasped, the breath leaving your lungs all at once. Cheong-san’s world went white. He hit Gwi-nam again and again until the man stopped moving. When it was over, he turned—saw you against the wall, clutching your arm, blood seeping fast through your fingers.

He dropped beside you, words catching in his throat. “…no.”

You didn’t answer. You were trembling, but your eyes stayed fixed on him. He tore his sleeve and wrapped it around your arm, too tight, ignoring the sting when you flinched.

Below, the dead screamed louder. He glanced down the stairwell, then back at you. “Come on.”

You nodded once. He hauled you up and didn’t let go until you reached the upper hallway. The world was still burning outside the windows; inside, only silence. When they reached the old classroom, he pushed the door open.

All movement inside stopped. Woo-jin, Ji-min, Hyo-ryung, Daesu—every pair of eyes locked on the blood down your arm.

“She’s bitten,” Ji-min said, voice sharp, breaking the silence like glass.

You froze. Cheong-san stepped slightly in front of you without thinking. “She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not,” Ji-min snapped. “You can’t bring her in here!”

Hyo-ryung pulled back, whispering something to Daesu. Woo-jin’s hand tightened around a chair leg. The air was thick with fear.

You swallowed hard, voice barely steady. “I’ll go.”

Cheong-san turned instantly. “No.”

You tried again, softer. “They’re scared. I get it. It’s better if—”

“You’re not leaving.”

The words were quiet, final. His jaw was set, eyes locked on Ji-min’s. The room held its breath.

Nam-ra’s voice cut through at last, calm but cold. “We watch her. If she turns, we act.”

The others didn’t argue. They just shifted back, uneasy, as you stood there under their stares. Your arm throbbed beneath the fabric. You could feel your pulse against the bite.

Cheong-san guided you to the far corner of the room, where the light from the cracked window fell weak and gray. You sank to the floor, breathing shallow. He crouched beside you, still between you and the rest, his voice low enough that only you heard.

“Just… stay with me.”

You nodded faintly. He didn’t move, didn’t speak again. The whispers started up behind you—quiet, fearful. Ji-min’s voice rose once more, hushed but sharp. Woo-jin said nothing.

Outside, the wind screamed through broken glass, carrying the sound of a dying city. Inside, Cheong-san’s eyes never left the door, his hand still hovering close to yours—ready if anyone tried to make you leave.