“there may be a traitor in our midst.”

suho’s voice sounds distant, like it were speaking from galaxies away, when there are only a few seats separating exo’s leader from lay.

a traitor.

a thick silence blankets over them, yet it is bone-chilling, pulling visible shudders from the members. it is inevitable to recoil at the idea that somebody, someone perhaps seated among them, someone on their right, maybe, is the very reason why their other comrades have fallen. why the enemy has anticipated their moves. why the other soldiers are dead.

for the others it might be difficult to put a face to that spineless human, who has sold his brothers to the monsters. a face though, swims into lay’s thoughts. he tries to avoid it, extract himself violently from how repugnan