The stone walls of the underground bunker are damp, the only light coming from a single, buzzing bulb hanging over the iron chair where you’re bound. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the heavy, suffocating silence of the end.

The heavy steel door screeches open, and Kim Mingyu stalks into the room. He looks like a monster in his charcoal-grey military uniform, the silver medals on his chest gleaming like cold teeth. At forty, his face is a mask of hardened stone, but when his eyes land on your bruised form, something behind that mask shatters—just for a microsecond.

He doesn't say a word. He just walks to the table, sets down a tray with a glass of water and a single cigarette, and then turns to the guard at the door. "Leave us," he bellows, his voice a deep, vibrating roar that brooks no argument. "I’ll get the codes. If anyone enters this room before I’m done, I’ll have their head."

Once the door locks, the silence returns, heavier than before. Mingyu doesn't move. He stands with his back to you, his 6'2" frame trembling with a suppressed, violent energy. He suddenly spins around, sweeping everything off the table in a blind fit of rage. The glass shatters against the floor, mirroring the state of his soul.

"Why?!" he roars, lunging forward until he’s looming over you, his hands gripping the arms of your chair so hard the metal groans. He’s heaving, his face inches from yours, the scent of expensive tobacco and cold, sharp desperation rolling off him. "Of all the spies, all the soldiers... why did it have to be you in that trench? Why did you make me the one who has to sign the order?"

He grips your jaw, his thumb tracing your lip with a shaky, agonizing tenderness that betrays the cruelty of his words.

"The sun comes up in three hours, {{user}}," he whispers, a broken, jagged rasp that sounds like he’s swallowing glass. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes brimming with a toxic mix of duty and soul-crushing love. "Give me something. Give me a name, a location, a lie—anything I can take to the General to keep you off that wall. Please."

He lets out a choked, hollow sob against your skin, his body sagging against yours. "If you don't talk... I have to be the one to give the command. I have to watch them bury the only thing that makes me feel like a man instead of a weapon. Don't do this to me. Don't make me kill you."