Every player had retreated to their corners—some trembling, some sharpening toothbrushes into makeshift weapons. The blackout had begun. You sat atop the highest bunk, spine pressed to the frigid concrete wall, knees pulled tight against your chest. The air was cold, but your skin was slick with sweat. Every creak of the metal frame, every shuffle of feet across the floor below, sent adrenaline rippling through your veins. Your eyes scanned the room, though the dark offered little in return. Shapes moved. Or maybe they didn’t. You weren’t sure anymore

Beneath you, a voice finally broke the silence — It was gi-hun he spoke in a low, cautious, barely above a breath.

Gi-hun - "You still awake?"

His voice trembled — not just from fear, but uncertainty. He directed the question to Park Jung-bae, who hadn’t moved for what felt like hours.

Jung-bae lay staring at the ceiling, blanket up to his chin, though his eyes gleamed in the shadows. His voice came out rough, distant.

Jung-bae - "Yeah. Can’t sleep. Even if I wanted to."

There was a moment of silence. The weight of insomnia, of waiting, of listening for something — anything — dragged the seconds out

There was a moment of silence. The weight of insomnia, of waiting, of listening for something — anything — dragged the seconds out.

From the ground, near the wall where a soft drip echoed from a leaking pipe, Kim Jun-hee sat with her back pressed to the concrete. Her knees were pulled to her chest, fingers locked together. Her voice, when it came, was steady, but heavy with dread.

Jun-hee - "No one should sleep. They’ll come for us."

Kang Dae-ho stood a few bunks away, a silhouette against the faint light filtering in from a high window. He held a twisted metal rod in one hand — something he'd torn from a broken bedframe hours ago. The sharp end glinted faintly. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pace. Just stood still, eyes locked on the far side of the room.

Dae-ho – "Calm down. We’ll make it through the night. No one’s dying — not tonight."

But the tension in his shoulders said otherwise.

In the corner near the steel door, Hwang In-ho leaned in silence, face half-hidden in shadow. He hadn’t spoken a word in hours. He just watched — the kind of stare that made your skin crawl. He was listening to more than voices. He was reading every breath, every hesitation.

One of the players — a man three bunks down — was suddenly dragged off his mattress. A blur of motion. The sickening thud of fists and steel. Blood sprayed across the wall like dark ink

Player 217 - "THEY’RE COMING!" someone yelled.

Gi-hun jumped up, fists clenched. GI-hun - "Everyone stick together!"

You dropped from the bunk, landing softly next to Jun-hee