Chapter Text
“This piece,” the guide began, smiling as the students gathered around, “is known as Bangasayusang. It dates back to the late 6th or early 7th century, during the Three Kingdoms period—specifically the Silla Kingdom.”
“I’m going to die from boredom. Let’s get out of here, Jeongguk-ah.” Song Hyunwoo—his best friend—nudged the side of his arm as he whispered.
Jeon Jeongguk tried to stifle his laughter, narrowing his eyes at Hyunwoo. “Seonsaengnim is right, you are a bad influence.”
Hyunwoo feigned offense, clutched his chest, and let out a little gasp so their teacher would miss their lack of attention to the guide. “What? Whatever gives you that impression, my dearest best friend?”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes.
“Pay attention,” the omega scolded, and Hyunwoo groaned.
“My dad’s so obsessed with Korean history, you know this. I’ve heard all about this a thousand times. I could probably be a better guide than anyone in this museum.” Hyunwoo cleared his throat, then started mimicking the guide’s voice. “Notice the gentle curve of the Bangasayusang's smile, representing enlightenment and compassion—”
“You’re so stupid,” Jeongguk stifled his giggles, elbowing his beta best friend.
As the group moved toward the next exhibit, Jeongguk looked up and saw Jihoon stepping closer. The alpha was the most popular guy in school and had been persistently making advances on Jeongguk since the tenth grade, until they got to their senior year. Jeongguk rejected him because he didn’t feel any attraction toward the alpha, but the alpha acted like nothing happened, making things awkward between them.
And that was an understatement.
“Hey, Jeongguk.” The alpha smiled down at him, his hands shoved inside his pockets.
“Hi,” Jeongguk replied politely, returning a soft smile before turning his attention back to the guide.
“How’re you liking the tour so far?”
“It was fun.”
“Yeah?”
Jeongguk stopped himself from letting out a sigh, so he only smiled as a response and nodded. Before Jihoon could initiate any more conversation, Hyunwoo, ever the savior, slipped an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders casually and stood in between them.
“And here we have a sculpture older than my will to live…” Hyunwoo began, narrating in an exaggeratedly serious voice.
Jeongguk snorted, biting back laughter. A couple of students glanced back to see what the noise was.
The tour continued normally after that.
Until…
Boom!
Dust and debris showered down as the ceiling burst open, the shockwave knocking several displays off their pedestals. Screams filled the air.
Jeongguk gasped loudly, instinctively ducking down, heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted upward. Through the smoke and falling plaster, a figure crawled through the gaping hole—tall, lean, and draped in a long, tattered coat that shimmered faintly like oil on water. His hair was a wild silver-gray, strands glowing faintly blue at the tips, and his grin was wide and evil.
A villain.
“Ahaha—! My, my, I do apologize for the dramatic entrance!” he called out, his voice smooth and mocking as he balanced on the broken ledge. “I didn’t mean to ruin the ceiling… well, maybe just a little. But hey, people love surprises, no?”
He leapt down effortlessly, boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. Someone screamed—a man bolted for the door. In a blur of light, the villain raised a hand, evoked a gust of strong wind, and there was an invisible thread that tied the man’s limbs and paralyzed him.
The man crumpled mid-run, falling to the floor. Gasps turned to sobs.
“Nobody leaves,” the villain barked, his tone snapping from playful to deadly. “You move, you die. Understand?”
People froze. The guide fell silent, trembling. The teacher, pale-faced, turned toward her students. “Everyone, sit down, now! Stay low!” she whispered urgently.
Jeongguk obeyed, heart racing, knees weak. Hyunwoo pulled him close, wrapping his arms protectively around him. Jeongguk buried his face into Hyunwoo’s shoulder, shaking. Just a moment ago, they were laughing and having fun.
“W-Why…” Jeongguk whispered, barely able to breathe.
Over the years, the world had been infested by evil.
It began subtly—rising crime rates, thefts, murders, and corruption spreading through every corner of society. But then came the Outbreak. Everyone called it a curse. The darkness in a criminal’s heart began to change into something worse, granting them impossible strength, powers fueled by malice, and they became something more than a human—a villain.
But behind every storm comes sunshine.
Driven by justice, compassion, and courage, other people began to manifest similar powers—as if the world itself was trying to balance itself. Superheroes never failed to beat these villains down. It’s just that this is the first time Jeongguk had to experience real danger caused by a villain.
“Look at this,” The villain suddenly said, sneering over the relics and other things displayed in the museum. “They’re all just… rubbish. Why treasure these dead objects when there are people still breathing out there? Fucking stupid,”
He set his palm against a cracked reliquary. “Tch, that bitch loved these. More than she loved me. She’d spent more of her time studying about this trash than paying attention to me.”
Nobody said a word. Jeongguk felt this villain had finally lost it.
Jeongguk’s entire body trembled as he pressed closer to Hyunwoo.
“I’m scared,” he whispered, the words shaking as they left his lips.
Hyunwoo’s arms tightened instantly. “Me too,” he said, voice rough, breath unsteady against Jeongguk’s ear. “I’m scared too.”
That made Jeongguk look up for a second. Hyunwoo’s face was pale, his eyes wide and wet with tears, his jaw clenched as if he was fighting not to cry. His body trembled beneath Jeongguk’s hands. Without thinking, Jeongguk wrapped his arms around him and hugged him back, burying his face in the crook of Hyunwoo’s shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
Then, a sudden crash split through the hall.
The villain’s boot struck a tall glass display shelf, causing it to fall over. The loud noise was deafening—glass shattered across the marble floor, sparkling like diamonds.
Screams erupted again—people ducked, some crying, others froze in fear. The villain stood amid the debris, his coat fluttering slightly with the gust from the impact. His face twisted with a mix of rage and disdain.
He turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing on a random man—one of the staff—crouched near the center. The man froze like a deer caught in headlights.
The villain started marching toward him, each step deliberate, echoing ominously in the silence. “You think this is funny?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone.
The staff member shook his head so fast it blurred. “N-No! I swear, I don’t—”
The villain didn’t let him finish. With a flick of his wrist, the air shifted—invisible threads coiled out of nowhere, wrapping around the man’s limbs like ropes. Jeongguk and everyone could tell because of the shape pressed against the limbs.
The staff screamed as he was pulled upward, his feet hanging off the ground. His body squirmed helplessly, the faint outline of the threads digging into his skin.
The villain’s expression darkened, voice dripping with venom. “You all laugh at people like me. Looking at me like I'm a stain. A mistake. But I’m done being ignored.” His voice rose with each word until it cracked into a snarl. “I’m sick and tired of being treated like nothing! I don’t want worthless civilians mocking me too!”
He glared around at the terrified face, his breath coming fast. “I’ll show everyone—every last one of you—that I’m better than all of you. That I’m a force to be reckoned with!”
“That’s enough, Puppeteer. You shouldn’t cause a ruckus right after being released from prison.”
Everything stopped. The villain froze, eyes snapped upward.
From the open hole in the ceiling, sunlight poured down, and Jeongguk’s eyes widened when he saw someone slowly descending.
The villain’s jaw clenched, his tone suddenly colder, almost feral. “...V.”
Gasps spread through the civilians. Even their teacher looked too stunned to speak.
One of the six major heroes of Korea. The youngest—and easily the most popular, due to his perfect looks.
He floated a few inches from the floor, and the dust swirled away from him as if repelled by his presence. His silver hair shone like liquid metal, tousled like he had rolled off the bed. His skin was sun-kissed, in contrast to the pristine white suit.
The suit itself was a work of art—Layered in white armor plates with elegant lines of gold running across his shoulders, forearms, and chest. Subtle panels of matte gray filled the gaps between, flexible yet durable, giving the impression of both strength and grace. A faint golden badge with an emblem shaped like stylized wings was engraved over his heart.
V screamed the embodiment of a hero.
His eyes were sharp, his expression was calm, but he frowned the moment his eyes met the villain.
“Let the man go.” That sounded like a command.
The villain growled, hesitating before releasing his threads, and the staff dropped to the ground, coughing several times, while others rushed to check on him.
Even from afar, Jeongguk could sense it—the overwhelming presence V exuded.
Hyunwoo whispered in awe, “Holy crap… It’s really him.”
Jeongguk couldn’t speak. His lips parted slightly, and his breath caught halfway. He’d seen V on television sometimes when he had the time to watch something while eating breakfast since his Mom always watch the news in the mornings, in posters plastered across billboards and ads on train stations—but in real life, the hero seemed almost unreal.
It’s like seeing fictional characters in real life.
Jeongguk suddenly understood why his classmates were obsessed with these heroes.
The villain’s teeth bared in a snarl, his earlier arrogance fading into something raw and furious. “You shouldn’t have come here, V! “
V tilted his head slightly, with his perfect dark eyebrow raising. “So, you expected me to stay quiet when people’s lives are in danger?”
His tone sounded obviously mocking. Like it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard.
“You fucking arrogant pricks. You fucks are nothing but spoiled brats feeling all high and mighty, pretending to be righteous. How about you get in our shoes for once!”
“Others are suffering worse fates than you, villain. But I don’t see them turning into a mindless violent fools like you.” V retaliated easily.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
The villain roared, his voice echoing through the building. In a burst of fury, he lunged forward, shards of glass and dust swirling behind him. But V moved faster than anyone could blink—his form became a blur of white and gold.
The villain snarled and thrust his hands outward. Invisible threads shot upward and latched onto the ceiling beams. With a strong pull, he launched himself into the air, swinging to meet V mid-air.
The threads lashed out, snapping through the air like whips, one of them coiling toward V’s leg. But instead of trying to tug the threads off his leg, V smirked and flew straight toward the villain.
He was circling the villain so fast that Jeongguk’s eyes couldn’t follow.
All he saw were streaks of gold and white cutting through the air. The villain tried to react, his threads lashing wildly, but they only tangled further with each spin. Within seconds, the shimmering lines of threads wrapped tightly around his own body, binding his arms and torso in a web of his own making.
The villain thrashed, shouting curses. “You—You fucking—”
V hovered just above him, frowning down. “Maybe ten years in prison wasn’t enough for you after all,” he said evenly. Then, in one smooth motion, he drew his arm back—and punched.
The impact cracked like thunder. The villain slammed onto the marble floor, causing the ground to fracture beneath him. A cloud of dust and debris shot upward, and once it cleared, everyone could see the villain lying there motionless—his body limp, mouth slack, wrapped entirely in his own threads.
For a moment, there was silence.
The crowd stirred—then erupted into cheers. People stood, clapping and crying, their voices overlapping with words of gratitude and praise.
Then V descended a few feet, his boots nearly touching the floor. “Is everyone alright?” he called out, his smooth, deep voice echoing gently through the hall.
“Thank you, V!”
“We’re okay!”
“Can I have your autograph?!”
V gave a small, relieved smile. And that sight made Jeongguk’s heart flutter.
Even though he’s not that close to V, he could tell the alpha smelled nice. There’s a nice breeze of citrus mixed with sunshine coming off from the hero, and Jeongguk’s omega preened.
V’s gaze caught on the unconscious man by the entrance, the staff member who had been lifted into the air earlier. He strode over quickly. “Is he alright?”
One of the workers nodded quickly. “He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing. He’s okay.”
“Good, make sure to call EMS if anyone’s injured,” V said, nodding once. He turned, addressing the room again, his tone steady and commanding. “Everyone, please go home immediately. Hope and I will secure the area and make sure it’s safe before reopening.”
There was a chorus of “Thank you, V!” and “You saved us!” from every direction.
Among the crowd, Jeongguk stood frozen. His heart was still pounding when V’s eyes swept over the room—and landed on him.
For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stop.
Their gazes met. V’s brows lifted just slightly, a flicker of recognition and curiosity crossing his face. Then, unexpectedly, the hero smiled.
Jeongguk’s breath hitched, his cheeks burning instantly.
Then, with a rush of air, V lifted off the ground, shooting upward through the hole in the ceiling. The light swallowed him as he disappeared into the sky.
A wave of excited chatter broke out immediately. “He smiled at me!” one girl squealed.
“No, it was totally at me!” another protested, clutching her chest dramatically.
Jeongguk smiled faintly to himself, looking down.
Yeah, he thought, there’s no way someone like V would notice me.
Hyunwoo exhaled shakily beside him, pressing a hand to his chest. “Holy shit, I can’t believe that just happened to us. It felt like a dream,”
Jeongguk turned to him, finally managing a small laugh. “You okay?”
Hyunwoo nodded weakly. “Yeah. Just thankful our heroes are stronger than any villains. And I’m happy I get to meet V in the flesh,”
Jeongguk hummed in agreement.
“Come on,” Jeongguk said softly. “I’m sure my mom heard about this and will pick me up soon. You want a ride home?”
Hyunwoo blinked, then smiled tiredly. “Yeah… yeah, that’d be great.”
The teacher’s voice brought the other students' attention. “Everyone, please call your parents and let them know you’re safe,” she said. “Stay together until they arrive.”
Phones buzzed everywhere, and his classmates started calling their parents and telling them everything animatedly. Jeongguk and Hyunwoo stood off to the side, and the sound of sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Within minutes, a familiar figure came rushing through the line of police tape.
“Jeongguk!”
His Mom was still in her uniform, her badge glinting under the sunlight. She ran straight to him, her face pale with worry. Before Jeongguk could say a word, she pulled him into a tight hug.
“Are you hurt?” she demanded, stepping back only to inspect him from head to toe, her hands brushing over his shoulders and cheeks.
“I’m fine, Eomma,” Jeongguk said softly.
His mom leaned to scent him, her comforting scent of coconuts melted the tension from Jeongguk’s body.
She turned to Hyunwoo. “And you, sweetheart? Are you okay?”
Hyunwoo blinked, startled by her sudden attention, then grinned. “Yeah, I’m okay, ma’am.”
His mom exhaled, relief flooding her face. “Thank God.” She straightened up, brushing a hand through her short brown hair. “Alright. I’m taking both of you home. After that, I need to get back to the station to send in some reports.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Really appreciate it,” Hyunwoo said politely.
His mom smiled and nodded.
The drive was slow—the streets ahead clogged with traffic, news vans, and emergency vehicles.
Hyunwoo straightened up and put on his bag when they pulled closer to his neighborhood. “Thank you again for the ride, ma’am. See you tomorrow, Gguk?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk said with a smile. “See you tomorrow,”
Jeongguk’s mom smiled tiredly. “You’re welcome, Hyunwoo-ah. Get some rest, alright?”
Hyunwoo hopped out, waving before disappearing down his street. Once the door shut, silence filled the car.
His mom sighed quietly, her hands gripping the wheel a little tighter. “You know,” she began after a moment, “I’m starting to wonder if we should’ve just moved back to Busan.”
Jeongguk’s sweet scent turned bitter momentarily. He sank lower into the seat, arms crossed. “Eomma…”
She glanced at him briefly through the rearview mirror. “It’s safer there. There won’t be any supervillains blowing up museums that my son attended with his classmates on a damn Tuesday morning,”
“But everything I want is here,” Jeongguk mumbled, staring out the window. The city lights blurred past. “My friends, my school, dreams.”
“I know, honey,” she said gently. “But it’s not safe. Every day, villains show up somewhere new. People are scared even to go out anymore. I don’t want to keep you away from your life, you know that. But I need to prioritize your safety,”
Jeongguk sighed, resting his chin against the cool glass. “Yeah, but… we have heroes. They keep us safe. You saw what happened today. V showed up before things got any worse. Nobody died,”
Her grip on the wheel tightened again. “And what if next time he’s not fast enough?”
Jeongguk’s jaw tensed. He didn’t answer.
His mom sighed, her voice softening as she glanced at him from the driver’s seat. “Jeongguk… do you understand how I feel?”
He hesitated, staring down at his hands. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
The rest of the ride was silent except for the hum of the engine and the music from the radio. When they finally turned into their quiet neighborhood, the chaos of the city felt far away. Rows of small, tidy houses lined up perfectly.
They pulled up in front of their house, and the familiar sight of the pale blue siding and the small flowerbeds by the steps eased Jeongguk’s heart.
“Alright,” his mom said, turning off the engine. “Go inside, lock the doors. I’ll be home late.”
Jeongguk nodded, opening the door and stepping out with his bag. She pulled the window down to smile at Jeongguk. “I love you, sweetheart.”
Jeongguk smiled back. “Love you too, Eomma.”
He waved as the car pulled away. The house was dark when he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Everything smelled like him and his mom. He locked the door behind him, then trudged upstairs.
The second his bedroom door shut, he let out a long sigh and dropped his bag onto the carpet. Without another thought, he threw himself onto his bed—or rather, his nest. The soft, circular heap of blankets, mismatched pillows, and comforters embraced him like a soft cloud.
He inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent soothe him. His nest smelled like him—sweet and warm, like freshly baked pastries.
Apple pie, milky bread, fruit tarts. It was comforting, cozy, and unmistakably his. His friends always teased him about it, saying he was so popular because of how good he smelled and how pretty he looked. Some even joked that most alphas at school went half-crazy whenever he walked by.
Jeongguk never paid much attention to that. It was embarrassing enough hearing people talk about it.
He reached for his phone, the screen lighting up his face in the dim room. A message from Hyunwoo blinked at the top of the screen.
Hyunwoo: Just got to my room!!! The class group chat’s blowing up. Everyone’s talking about what happened. Someone even took pics of the villain and V, go check em out
Jeongguk opened the group chat, scrolling through the flood of messages and blurry photos.
One caught his attention—a shot of V right after the fight, standing tall amidst the broken floor and debris. Even in chaos, V looked divine.
Jeongguk’s heart gave a slight, involuntary flutter. He sighed, staring at the picture like a lovestruck fool.
“Get it together,” he muttered to himself, though a faint blush crept up his cheeks.
Then new images appeared—sharper ones. These were taken recently. Some students must still have been at the museum, outside to be exact. And outside, right next to V, was someone else.
Jeongguk blinked. “Hope?”
V had mentioned another hero on-site, but he hadn’t gotten a good look earlier. Now that he saw him, he regretted going home way too early.
What a handsome hero.
His black hair was tousled in an effortlessly perfect way, eyeliner framing his glowing golden eyes. He wore a deep V-cut black blouse with matching slacks, his stance confident as he was talking with the police.
“Whoa…” Jeongguk murmured, feeling his face heat up.
He remembered hearing about Hope before—his ability to manipulate shadows and solidify them into weapons.
The way his power worked sounded like something out of a fantasy novel. He’s also a part of Yukseongdan—which literally means training group.
He heard the six heroes were young and in their training phase only three years ago, but apparently, they became strong enough to become the biggest hero group in Korea.
As he stared at the ceiling, he realized that he had never paid any attention to these heroes. He was too busy studying and barely watched any TV that often shows news about villain attacks and the heroes involved.
He doesn’t know anything about V and the rest of the top five heroes.
Quickly, Jeongguk sat up and went to his desk. He powered up his computer, and the screen flickered alive. He sat down, opened his browser, and then typed ‘Yukseongdan’.
Jeongguk scrolled through the official Heroes Association site, his heart thudding with a strange mix of awe, something that had never happened before.
Damnit, now he’s acting like his other classmates who are fangirling over superheroes.
The list of the six elite heroes filled his screen, each profile glowing faintly with an official gold border and an emblem of their team.
[Yukseongdan]
At the very top was their leader.
RM.
Jeongguk clicked on his profile picture, and the moment the page loaded, he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. The man looked effortlessly handsome—dark hair slicked back neatly, a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his sharp nose. He looked perfect in casual clothes.
In the next image, Jeongguk saw him in his costume.
Holy crap!
This guy is ripped.
He wore a modern twist on fantasy barbarian armor, with furs draped over his shoulders and intricate metallic straps wrapping his torso. His muscles were perfectly carved, and in each hand, he gripped a massive battle axe.
Flanking him were two enormous dire wolves, their eyes glowing an ethereal blue. The description beneath the photo said that he’s an ancient beast summoner.
“That’s so cool…” Jeongguk whispered.
Next on the list was Jin. Nicknamed The Wraith.
When Jeongguk clicked, the first thing that appeared was a dark, spectral figure surrounded by glowing talismans.
The description said his ability allowed him to shift between a human and spirit form—a ghostly wraith that could apply blessings or curses through hand-crafted talismans.
Then the next image loaded, and Jeongguk’s jaw nearly dropped. Out of his wraith form, Jin looked like he had stepped straight out of a storybook. Brown hair framed his soft features perfectly, full lips that curved into a gentle smile, and broad shoulders that further support his otherwise princely appearance.
His hazel eyes carried warmth and kindness that made Jeongguk’s chest flutter.
Why do they all look so hot?
Scrolling further down, he found Suga —The Musical Monster.
His file was different. The background photo showed him on a rooftop, holding an electric guitar, his dark coat billowing dramatically in the wind. It said his ability was to boost others’ power through the songs he plays.
Jeongguk blinked. “That’s interesting,”
The page described a famous incident from two years ago: when a class-A villain almost destroyed half of Seoul, Suga played a song that boosted every hero on the field to several times their normal strength. It turned the tide of the entire battle.
And, as Jeongguk read further, it turned out Suga had used that same guitar as a blunt weapon when villains got too close.
That mental image made Jeongguk snort out a laugh.
Then came the close-up photos. Pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and black hair that fell lazily over his feline-shaped eyes. He had that cool, untouchable aura—like someone who didn’t talk much but somehow said everything through a single look.
Next was Mochi.
Jeongguk chuckled softly at the name before he even opened the page.
The nickname alone sounded sweet—and when the hero’s profile appeared, it all made sense.
Mochi looked angelic. His face was delicate and cherubic, with soft blond curls that framed his cheeks and silver eyes that reminded Jeongguk of glass. He wore a sheer white blouse trimmed with lace and soft gray slacks that gave him a dreamy, otherworldly presence. Small crystal-like dots adorned the skin around his eyes, catching the light like stars.
His listed power made Jeongguk’s eyes widen—hydrokinesis, the ability to manipulate and solidify water. There was even a photo of him summoning a floating sphere of water on the red carpet while smiling softly at the camera. But what surprised Jeongguk even more is that the hero is actually an alpha.
Then there's Hope.
A hero that looks like a rockstar, a handsome, dangerous punk his Mom always warned him about. But damnit, he's hot.
Hope likes wearing eyeliner, which gives him a slight smoky eye effect that is a deadly combo for his already handsome face. His whole body seemed toned, but lean, with a heart-shaped smile. Jeongguk already knew his ability was to manipulate his shadow into weapons, and in the picture, it was seen that he was holding a rather all-black gun. So that's his infamous shadow gun. His black eyes seemed mischievous, and something about how he looked at the camera made Jeongguk feel all hot and bothered. He seemed like a flirt.
Finally, Jeongguk scrolled down to the last familiar name.
V.
Seeing his picture again made Jeongguk melt.
The official portrait was even more breathtaking than the flashes of him from earlier today.
V stood midair in the photo, white and gold suit gleaming, white armor plating accenting his lean frame. The cape flowed behind him like silk, trimmed in gold that reflected the sunlight.
Jeongguk read over his abilities. The only hero who could fly, holy shit. He also possessed super speed and superhuman strength.
Jeongguk leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh, his heart still fluttering from everything he’d seen.
He clicked one last picture, and it was all of them standing side by side, battle-worn yet smiling. Jeongguk stared at it for a long moment. They all looked really closely and looked so good together.
Jeongguk hummed, thinking that yeah, Seoul is in the right hands. There’s no need to go back to Busan.
And, well, he spoke too soon.
The first thing Jeongguk noticed was the sound.
A deep, wailing siren tore through the afternoon. It echoed loudly, bouncing through the quiet neighborhood until it drowned out every other sound. Jeongguk jerked upright in his chair, his heart already pounding.
Then came the tremor—a low rumble that made his window tremble in its frame.
He scrambled out of his chair, bare feet hitting the cold floor as another distant boom thundered across the city. The ground seemed to shake again, this time stronger.
Jeongguk’s stomach flipped. He bolted down the stairs two at a time, fumbling for the remote, and flicked on the TV.
The news channel was in chaos—red banners flashing BREAKING NEWS across the bottom of the screen. The anchor’s voice trembled as she spoke.
“—repeating, this is not an isolated incident. The attack on the National Museum earlier today appears to have been part of a coordinated series of assaults—”
The footage cut suddenly—to hospitals, train stations, even crowded intersections.
Jeongguk’s breath caught.
Giant, grotesque creatures filled the streets, their flesh slick and glistening, with mouths dripping acid that hissed as it hit the pavement. Cars melted like wax, and people ran screaming. Another camera showed a masked villain laughing as he unleashed a burst of fire from a flamethrower, engulfing fleeing civilians. The feed flickered, distorted by the heat.
Jeongguk’s hands were shaking as he clutched the remote.
Then the broadcast cut to a dimly lit press room. The Minister of Defense stood there, face pale, his jaw tight as he addressed the camera.
“All civilians are ordered to evacuate immediately to the emergency shelter dome located in the center of Seoul. Do not remain in open areas—”
Another explosion boomed, even through the broadcast. The man flinched, looking offscreen.
Jeongguk’s stomach dropped.
What is happening?
He turned off the TV and sprinted upstairs. The house trembled again, the windowpanes rattling as if something enormous had landed nearby.
His hands moved on instinct. He grabbed his backpack and dumped everything from school out onto the floor, notebooks, pens, and his phone charger tangled in between. He stuffed in fresh clothes, a pair of pants, socks, a hoodie, and anything he could reach.
He zipped it up with trembling fingers, powered off his computer, and grabbed his phone from his desk—there were several missed calls from his mom. His heart leapt to his throat.
He answered as soon as his mom called again, as he bolted down the stairs. “Eomma! what’s happening—”
“Jeongguk! Listen to me, baby, I need you to stay in your room, do you hear me?”
Her voice was frantic, the sound of sirens and shouting bleeding through from her end.
“What? But, I watched the TV and the guy said—”
“I know what he said!” she shouted over the noise. “But it’s too risky for you to go alone. I won’t be able to get to you fast enough. The roads are jammed, and villains are everywhere—there’s no guarantee you’ll make it to the shelter safely!”
Jeongguk’s throat tightened. “Then what should I do?”
“Lock the doors,” she said quickly, voice trembling but firm. It made Jeongguk’s stomach churn, his bitter scent of fear coated the entire house. “Stay in your room and don’t make a sound. I’ll come for you when it’s safe. Promise me, Jeongguk.”
He swallowed hard. “Okay… okay, I promise. Are you—are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, but the way her voice broke made his chest ache. “Just do as I say. I love you.”
The line went dead.
Jeongguk stood there for a moment, frozen. Then another explosion shook the walls—much closer this time.
He jumped, heart hammering, and ran back upstairs. He dropped his backpack near his bed, rushed to the kitchen to grab every snack he could carry in case he got hungry and couldn’t get out of his room. He filled his arms with bottled water, slammed the fridge shut, pulled the curtains tight until no light leaked through, and ran back up.
The next blast came like thunder, rattling his desk. Dust sprinkled from the ceiling. Jeongguk dove into his nest, curling up as he squeezed his eyes shut. His heart was racing so fast it hurt.
He clutched his blanket, trembling violently. It’s okay. Mom said it’s okay. She’ll come back. Heroes will save the day once again.
The explosions came faster now—closer, louder.
Each one made the house tremble as if the world itself was cracking open outside.
Jeongguk clutched his blanket so tightly his knuckles went white. His entire body shook; His breathing was rapid and shallow. The air felt thin, the pressure in his chest unbearable.
He didn’t dare move. The thought of peeking through the window scared him so much.
His whole body was trembling so hard his nest rustled beneath him. His scent spiked sharply with fear, flooding the air. He could barely think straight.
And then—
A thought pierced through the panic like a desperate prayer.
Please… Hero. Anyone.
A small, choked whine escaped him—high-pitched, trembling. His instincts screamed for safety, for help, for someone to assure him that his mom is okay, that he will be okay.
A violent crash nearly stopped his heart from beating.
His window shattered inward, spraying shards of glass across the floor. Jeongguk screamed, flinching back, throwing himself into the corner of the room, his blanket clutched around him like a shield.
He couldn’t even breathe. His heart was pounding so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. Dust and cold air rushed in—and then he saw it.
Or rather, him.
The hero scanned around the room until his eyes landed on Jeongguk.
Jeongguk blinked, frozen. His mind couldn’t process it. His mouth moved on instinct, barely a whisper.
“...V?”