Chapter Seven

seis·mic

/ˈsīzmik/

adjective

relating to earthquakes or other vibrations of the earth and its crust.

November 20^th, 5692

“He was trying to sneak onto on a freight train stationed by at the west exit,” Kim Hyunshik said.

Daehyun gulped and closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to settle the dust being blown around in his head. Bang Yongguk, the man he had seen not even twenty-four hours ago, was seated across from him, chained to the squeaky metal table that kept them apart.

Daehyun was exhausted. The only rest he’d had in about 24 hours had been induced by fists to his face, which was surely not looking too hot. He could feel the heat of the swelling, but at least nothing was broken.

Would he ever see Youngjae again?

He still hadn’t quite been able to grasp what had happened; losing his friend so suddenly, with no warning or proper goodbye. He felt like crying.

Daehyun’s leg shook, his knee bobbing up and down on its own accordance enthusiastically, and he opened his eyes to stare into his lap.

Kim cleared his throat. “I believe his name is Bang Yongguk, the one you mentioned earlier, and I now have much more reason than his absence from work today to believe he was directly involved with this incident.”

Daehyun could practically sense both of the other men’s gazes on him, and he looked up at his boss, trying his hardest to avoid Yongguk and not to cringe at the sick grin he was being given by his boss.

“We’ve had him for a few hours now, actually––just shipped in during our little meeting earlier––and he hasn’t spoken a word since,” Kim huffed, and Daehyun did everything he could to keep a small smile off of his face. Maybe… maybe he could lead Kim and the rest of the team astray. But even if he could pull something like that off, what was to stop Kim from seeing right through him and his betrayal after?

“So here’s what you’re going to do for me.”

A large, bony-knuckled hand clamped over Daehyun’s shoulder and he flinched, barely managing to not twitch away. The older man leaned down, and Daehyun shivered as he whispered into his ear.

“I’m going to step out for a few minutes, give you two some privacy, and then come back. When I come back, I expect you to have a few answers for me.” Kim’s presence crept away leaving a shadow behind, and Daehyun knew that by “step out” he really meant he was going to be on the other side of the door, listening to them. Yongguk seemed to have figured the same, though his eyes gave away nothing. Instead, he nudged Daehyun’s foot under the table.

Right. It would be weird for Yongguk to just start talking excitedly as soon as the door closed.

Daehyun swallowed hard and his lips. “Um,” he began, cringing at his lack of tact, “where did you go after you left the building last night?” The question was weak and of no substance, but it was enough to work with. “None of this will make it to Kim’s ears, I swear,” he said loudly to the wall, praying Kim wasn’t as smart as his degrees claimed he was. Hopefully he would keep Daehyun around to use him long enough for him to figure out a solution to this whole disloyal problem. If not, well. A bridge to burn later.

“Why should I tell you?” Yongguk spat at him.

Ummmm. “Because I wanna find them myself. I don’t care if I lose my job, all I want is to punch that tall in the face right back.” That should do it. Maybe Kim would find Daehyun’s wishes to be relatable.

Yongguk shrugged. “I suppose there’s really no harm,” he said hopelessly. “They’re gonna either keep me in prison until I rot or send me straight to death row, anyway. Might as well have those five coming down with me.”

Daehyun blinked. “Five?”

Yongguk shook his head and held up three fingers. “Us two who busted him out weren’t alone, you know,” he huffed with a laugh. “There were four other people with us, including the kid.”

“Did they all work here? Would we be able to check their attendance records––”

Yongguk cut him off with another shake of his head. “No. Friends of mine, and if you think I’m going to give you their names you’re wrong.”

“What happened to taking them down with you?” Daehyun muttered, and Yongguk rolled his eyes.

“We all split up. Figured our chances of making it out would be higher that way, so I went east. Alone.”

“Nobody else went that way?”

“Do you see anybody else in here?”

Daehyun shot him a look.

“Yoo Youngjae was with you guys?” Daehyun nodded his head vigorously when Yongguk tilted his.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know which way he went, but he took the boy with him.”

“Did you all sneak onto the trains?”

Yongguk nodded. “There’s a circle of four different ones around this district, I’m sure you know.”

Daehyun had not.

“I don’t know who went where, but at least one person is on each one. Except the one that I was, now. ’s empty.” Yongguk folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, as far as the chains would allow him to.

The Lower West district was exactly as Youngjae remembered it, which meant it was the same quiet, dull, monochromatic place it had been a couple years ago. The streets were empty, though Youngjae wasn’t surprised; according to his watch it was the middle of the workday. On one hand, it was good the streets were bare, but on the other, that fact would make him more noticeable if anyone happened to be out.

Youngjae knew he must look a sight. Surely there was still blood dried under his nose, and probably over his chin, too. He could taste it on his lips.

Youngjae had never broken a bone in his body before now. He decided it hurt a lot, and had quite the craving for some ice. But ice was a luxury in and of itself, not like he’d have any chance of getting some now, anyway.

He hadn’t been to the west districts in years. The last time, he’d had a low-paying desk job in a tiny clinic next to a large textiles factory, and that’s where he was heading.

It was possible some of the locals here would be able to recognize him from the time he had spent there years ago. He would need to avoid direct contact with anyone and everyone at all costs; it wouldn’t be difficult for word of his presence to reach back to the Upper North, were someone to reach out. People didn’t travel just to visit in Urbs Equidem. It was suspicious enough already just for him to show up out of nowhere, and during a work day, no less. If anybody was to recognize him, they would surely ask questions.

So Youngjae kept his head down and walked fast.

He had no idea what Daehyun would tell Kim; he hoped he wouldn’t try to prove his innocence. That would make things worse for everyone.

Maybe he’d try to frame him.

But that was so out of Daehyun’s character, he could barely even fathom it. The guy was too soft; too kind. He always had been.

There was a fit of heavy, dry, muffled coughing that echoed down the hall as Youngjae stopped in front of the receptionist’s desk. It was all so familiar, and he hated it.

The front of the desk was high enough to reach his chest, and he rested his elbows on the surface, peering over the side. There was a large computer and keyboard, along with several other office appliances, and a young girl was seated in a large chair, legs curled and hugged to her chest as she tapped at a small tablet on the table before her. Youngjae cleared his throat.

“Um, excu––Misun?” He should have been able to recognize her, but the girl had grown so much. Her face broke out into a large, wide smile when she looked up, and Youngjae was surprised that she recognized him. After all, she had been… maybe five or six when he worked here?

In no time, she had leapt from the chair and rounded the side of the desk, colliding with Youngjae’s side, arms hugging him tightly. At her full height, she about reached his stomach.

After recovering from the moment of shock, Youngjae lowered his arms to pat her head with one hand. "Where's your mother?" he asked. Misun pointed down the hall, then grabbed Youngjae's arm and tugged him further into the small waiting area. He let her push him into a chair, and she held up a finger, signaling for him to wait, and then she was gone.

There were light footsteps coming from around the corner, and Youngjae leaned his head on his hand, tilting his face toward the floor. He wished he had a hood, or a mask, or something. For now he’d just have to hide his face as best he could with his hands while avoiding putting any pressure at all on his fractured nose. Damn that tall son of a––

“He mentioned something about caves, remember? On the train.” The voice was soft but nearing quickly, and Youngjae turned to face the wall just before two people entered the room.

“Well how the hell are we supposed to find them? What if they’re on the other side of the damn city!”

A heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Hyung. I think we should just rest and call it a day for now. Maybe we’ll think of something in the morning.”

            Somebody knew about the caves. They had to be the same ones Youngjae was headed for; he didn’t know of any others. He adjusted his hold on the bag slung over his shoulder so that it rested in his lap. The books inside contained the maps he would need to get out of here.

            Questions regarding the two others in the room of who, what, where, and why sped through his head, and his mind flashed to that boy from the surface, Jongup, for a moment, but before he could even process his own questions, the doctor appeared before him.

“She’s still not speaking?”

Doctor Park shook her head while she prepared the supplies to make a light splint for Youngjae’s nose. “She isn’t allowed to go to school because of it. They think she’s a lost cause, that she’s not smart just because she won’t talk.”

“Maybe it’s not that she won’t, but that she can’t,” Youngjae suggested. The sentence left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

“There’s no way of knowing, really,” she said. “There’s no problem as long as I’m working here. They let me have her around to help––no harm they could see in it, really––, and I suppose she’ll just stay here.” The doctor shrugged. “Anyway, how’d you end up with this?” She waved at his face. “And what are you doing all the way over here? I thought you had moved up North.”

“Oh, I––” why hadn’t he come up with an explanation ahead of time? “––got… into a  fight,” he said slowly. That counted, right? Technically he wasn’t lying. Except he hadn’t hit anyone. Not until after, at least.

Doctor Park raised her eyebrows and shook her head, disbelieving, but she didn’t argue. Youngjae was grateful.

“Well, it’s good to see you around again. I won’t bug you with any more questions, for now.”

Youngjae nodded, appreciative, and then stilled his head, wincing a bit as she shaped the splint to fit him properly. “Are you treating any other patients here right now? I know you don’t get much business.” So he was curious. Youngjae needed to find out who else was here; who those two guys were here with that had mentioned the caves. He had a suspicion nagging the back of his mind, but he didn’t want to believe it.

Doctor Park laughed. “You’re right. It’s a damn good thing I get paid by the hour and not per patient.” She grabbed a roll of thick medical tape with her free hand––the one not holding Youngjae’s nose in place––and began to secure the splint to his face. “I do have one person in right now,” she said. “But he’ll be leaving tomorrow, I think.”

Youngjae raised an eyebrow. “Has he been here a long time?”

“Only about half a day. His friends brought him here early this morning. He was in terrible shape.” Her face fell into a frown, and she returned the supplies to their designated cabinets and drawers. “I’ve never seen anything like it around here. He was so ill. Malnourished and dehydrated, so thin and pale…” she shook her head. “They won’t tell me much of what happened, but I have a feeling it wasn’t just a case of homelessness like we see now and then.”

“That––that sounds awful.” Youngjae swallowed hard, avoiding her eyes as she nodded.

“He’s extremely flighty, too. Jumps at every sound he hears. Absolutely abhors the needles. I had Misun watching him for a while after he woke up to make sure he’d stay put.”

“Why’s that?”

Doctor Park sighed. “Well, he… he doesn’t seem to be able to speak.”

Youngjae looked down bit his lip, closing his eyes. . They actually made it this far.

“I thought maybe he would find comfort with her, but he doesn’t seem used to it like she is. He’s frustrated, and––” the doctor leaned forward in her chair and lowered her voice. “Listen, Youngjae, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think somebody was torturing him.”

Torturing.

Youngjae swallowed thickly again. “What?” Only one syllable and his voice cracked.

“There’s an incision on his throat. It’s stitched up, but not very well.”

Youngjae remembered how shaky Daehyun’s hands had been the night before.

She took a breath, as if to steady herself. “His face, when he saw it, Youngjae…” her hand on the countertop stopped drumming its fingers, and she looked back up at him. “He was already so weak. I think he knew what the deal was with his throat, but after he saw the wound itself, he turned from weak to broken for a moment.” Doctor Park rested her elbow on the countertop and placed her chin in her hand, holding her head up.

Youngjae nodded. Suddenly he felt a bit ill, himself.

“Are you okay? Youngjae? You look pale.” Doctor Park finally looked up again, and Youngjae schooled his expression, smoothing it over with a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

Jongup seemed alright.

Junhong followed Himchan back out to the waiting area. It was mostly empty, save for one man in the corner, sitting practically curled in on himself.

“He mentioned something about caves, remember? On the train,” Junhong said as they sat down.

“Well how the hell are we supposed to find them? What if they’re on the other side of the damn city!” Himchan gestured in front of himself unproductively.

Junhong sighed. “I don’t know, Hyung. I think we should just rest and call it a day for now. Maybe we’ll think of something in the morning.”

Himchan huffed. “Junhong, we need some sort of direction, at the very least. There’s no way I’ll sleep tonight unless we decide on something. I don’t care if it’s even just what to have for breakfast! We don’t have time to waste sitting around here!”

“Fine, fine.” Junhong held his hands up in surrender. “But can we at least talk about this in––” he cut himself off when Doctor Park returned to the waiting area, then lowered his voice and leaned closer to Himchan. “In private?”

Himchan nodded, eyeing the other two people in the room. “Let’s go outside.”

Youngjae told Doctor Park that he probably just hadn’t been drinking enough water lately when she checked his vitals and expressed a bit of concern. He knew she was smarter than to actually believe him, but she only told him to sit for a while and leave whenever he was ready before excusing herself. Youngjae didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to leave. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

There was too much guilt chasing him around in this place.

Granted, he couldn’t say for certain that he knew who Doctor Park’s other patient was, but… what were the odds, really?

He knocked back a few painkillers for his nose and finished the cup of water the doctor had left for him before finally heading out into the hallway, still debating his next move.

The other couple rooms were dark, their doors left slightly ajar, but one was shut, and stale, washed-out light spilled from the tiny window that looked to the inside. He checked both directions before creeping toward the room, and took a few deep breaths to slow down the pounding of his heart before he peeked around and through the glass, standing on his toes to reach.

He squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the figure inside came into focus.

Standing outside the room, leaning against the wall, Youngjae stared at his hands. The lights were weak and made his skin appear nearly translucent. He could see the veins that ran through his wrists from his arms and into his fingers, pale blue and purple.

Despite expecting to have racing thoughts, his mind was blank. The only reason he’d forced Daehyun to do those things was to preserve his job, and here he was, running away from that job, throwing it all away himself.

What could it possibly hurt more to give the man he had hurt so badly some help?

Being in a group would prove beneficial on its own, really, anyway. At least, that’s what he thought to sell the idea to himself. And having that boy––Jongup––Youngjae wondered if he might prove helpful on the way with his knowledge of the surface.

This wasn’t to heal his guilty conscience. He wasn’t guilty of anything for doing his job. Offering to help people and gaining the benefit of group travel was just strategy.

Youngjae made sure to affirm that the room was empty save for Jongup before going in.

Standing at the foot of his bed was strange. This was the first time Youngjae had seen in him anything besides fear, pain, or anger. He was asleep, still––as he had been for the majority of the time when Youngjae was responsible for him––, but, to put it bluntly, he looked more comfortable when he wasn’t hooked up to a machine that converted the magic energy the earth sent through his body into electricity to power a city.

Youngjae didn’t blame him.

The IV in Jongup’s arm was a regular saline solution for hydration. No sedatives. He had fallen asleep without drugs, on his own. Most probably out of exhaustion. Youngjae noted that the bandage across his throat was fresh, and much better-looking than the one he had watched Daehyun apply with shaky hands only hours earlier.

It would be better if Youngjae avoided thinking about Daehyun. It would be better if he avoided thinking about the past few days at all, really.

Ever since he’d first seen Jongup, Youngjae had been beyond curious about the entirety of his appearance. He wanted to know more about the magic he’d seen, too. The way Jongup had been able to hide himself from them… was that normal up there? Could everybody on the surface do that? None of the books he’d found had even a single sentence written on the matter. He wondered all the same about the twin compass roses on Jongup’s neck. They looked just like the ones on the old maps. He’d noticed a few marks on his hands, too, but had never taken a close look. He moved to the side of the bed, and, next to Jongup, he bent down to look at them. He found no answers. The symbols were completely foreign to him where they decorated each of his fingers, just below his nail beds. He wondered briefly if they might have anything to do with the magic.

Youngjae sighed and dropped down into the metal chair beside the bed.

The two people who had brought Jongup in must be Yongguk and that other kid who was with him. The tall one, who had knocked out Daehyun and then punched Youngjae in the nose hard enough that he fell unconscious, too. If they were still in the lobby, maybe he could manage a civil conversation. Jongup surely wouldn’t be capable of such things in his sleep.

Like he could if he was awake? Youngjae gritted his teeth as that angry, guilty part of his brain fired back.

He wasn’t doing this to clear his conscience; he was doing this to be free. He was doing this to get out of this repulsive, evil city. He was doing this for himself. He might need to exaggerate his reasoning for wishing to travel with them, but he could make do.

Junhong had been expecting a lot of things. He had a habit of always assuming the worst possible outcome for most situations; that way he’d never find himself disappointed with the results. Usually this worked best at his job as an engineer.

This was not engineering, and he was in no way prepared for what he found when he returned to Jongup’s room again to make sure he was still asleep. The plan had been to check on Jongup, go back and grab Himchan, then, somehow, both squeeze onto the bed and try to sleep as best they could. Technically they didn’t exactly have permission to do this, but they also hadn’t been told they couldn’t.

It hadn’t even been a full day since Junhong had last seen Youngjae, not to mention the fact that the last time consisted mostly of punching him in the face.

Needless to say, he froze when he opened the door and the figure beside Jongup’s bed jerked and whipped his head around.

“You,” Junhong accused. His voice was quiet but it roared in his own ears next to the eerie silence of the clinic. Doctor Park had retreated into her office after putting Misun to bed on the second floor, which served as their home.

“You,” Youngjae echoed back at him, less enthusiastically. “I figured you were here.”

Junhong raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall, trying not to give any of his true panic away. “Why’s that?” he asked, voice steady and neutral.

“If my memory serves me right, you’re the kid who helped Yongguk break into HS Electric to steal something––”

“Someone.”

Youngjae waved his hand dismissively. “And you hit Daehyun.”

The nervous medic. “Then I hit you,” Junhong spat.

“Then you hit me.”

“What happened to your face?” he asked, despite the fact that his previous statement implied he knew full well what had happened to his face. Did this count as mocking?

Youngjae’s mouth twisted into a frown and his eyes narrowed. “Fractured nose,” he murmured distractedly, as if his train of thought was taking a detour somewhere all of a sudden.

“And you’re here to take Jongup back,” Junhong assumed. “We won’t let you.”

Youngjae opened his mouth to object, but Junhong kept talking, not letting him get even a word in. He stalked up to Youngjae and leaned over, jabbing an accusing finger into his chest.

“Look at him. Look at him. Do you see those bags under his eyes? How thin his wrists look? He’s dehydrated, malnourished, orthostatic––I don’t know what that means, actually, but it’s not a good thing––, he’s got low blood pressure, his heartrate is too slow and too fast at the same time!––This is your fault. You did this.”

“I’m not––”

“I don’t care.” Junhong’s voice rose, and he loomed over Youngjae, satisfied as the shorter man leaned back. “He could have died, Youngjae hyung. He could have died, and it would’ve been your fault.”

Youngjae’s eyes flicked past Junhong and over to the man asleep on the bed, and then back to the fiery gaze on him. “Why do you care?” he asked. “It’s not like you know him. He’s not your friend.”

“That’s exactly your ing problem!” Junhong shout-whispered. “Why did you do this? How could you possibly be telling yourself that it’s okay to slowly kill someone just because your boss tells you to? How could that possibly justify actually doing it? Do you care about anything other than yourself and your stupid job? And that friend of yours.” Junhong stepped back and paced across the room after taking a deep, shuttering breath. “He’s the one who––he’s the one who did that surgery, right? The one who took Jongup’s voice away from him.” Junhong scoffed and rubbed his face with his palm.

“You’re assuming he wanted to do that,” Youngjae shot back, and Junhong whipped around.

“I’m assuming that the both of you care so much about your jobs you’ll do anything to keep them! This is absolutely inhumane! I’m not going to let you take him back there.”

Youngjae bit his tongue to keep from defending himself. “You’re too empathetic,” he muttered quietly. Junhong didn’t seem to hear him from the other side of the tiny room. A change of topic might do them well, but, “I’m not here to take him back,” he said.

Junhong’s expression didn’t change. “Right,” he said, unbelieving. Couldn’t blame him.

“Hear me out,” Youngjae pleaded. He shifted and unbuckled his bag, pulling out one of the books. It was an older one that he couldn’t read, but it contained the map to and through the caves that led to the surface. He tossed it to Junhong, who stared at the cover, puzzled.

“Go on,” Youngjae encouraged. “Open it. The bookmarked page.”

Junhong slowly flipped through the pages, staring at them in a mixture of confusion, fascination, and distrust until he reached the one Youngjae had marked. He kept glancing up from the pages, eyes darting around between Youngjae and Jongup as if Youngjae might attempt to snatch him right out from underneath his nose, but Youngjae knew when he saw the map, because his eyes went wide and he kept his head glued down.

“This…” Junhong blinked widely at the page. “This is a map, right?”

It was understandable that he might not recognize the format; maps had changed quite a formidable amount since this particular one had been cartographed. Youngjae nodded.

“Why are you showing this to me?” Junhong lowered the book. He was aware of books like this, but he had never actually seen let alone held one before; most people stuck exclusively to the tablets for reading. The book felt weird, and the pages were so thin, they felt breakable. The book smelled weird.

Youngjae sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m showing you this because it leads out of here.”

There was a pause.

“… what do you mean, it leads out of here?”

“To the surface. As far as I know, it’s the only one of its kind.”

Junhong looked back down at the book. The characters were old, traditional ones. “Maybe Jongup can read this.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Youngjae didn’t seem at all fazed by the statement.

Junhong slowly looked back up. “And you’re giving it to me?” He’d never been so confused in his life, and it got even worse when Youngjae nodded. “Temporarily,” he clarified. “Look. Just to make myself clear, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this so that I can get out of here.”

“What if I say we don’t want you to come with us?”

Youngjae’s expression didn’t waver. “Then I’ll lead the boss right to you.” He was lying, but he was sure Junhong didn’t know it as his eyes searched his face.

“I… I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to say to all this,” Junhong admitted. “I don’t trust even a shred of you. How did you just show up here? You must have followed us. I bet you must just be stalling, . This,” he waved the book, “is probably fake bull. Kim and his guys are probably waiting outside right now, aren’t they? Just waiting for the signal to storm in.” Junhong began pacing around the room again, breaths speeding up.

“No, calm down, I’m not working with Kim,” Youngjae said.

“Like I’ll just believe that!”

“I promise, my only interest is in myself.” Youngjae held his hands up. “I just want to get out of here, too. We have that in common.”

Junhong turned back to him again, and Youngjae had to stop himself from reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Youngjae admitted. “Listen, when I––” he was cut off as Junhong suddenly gipped his forearm tightly and briefly stared at Youngjae, who stared back, chewing his lip in surprise.

“Jongup, you should go back to sleep,” Junhong said, mouth pulled tight.

Youngjae proceeded to stare at the wall, frozen. He hadn’t planned on actually facing Jongup, which, upon further reflection, was stupid, because of course he wouldn’t be able to avoid that if he wanted to do this. .

In Himchan’s future opinion, he chose the perfect time to enter Jongup’s room in the clinic.

He stood frozen in the doorway, too shocked to move at first. That was Yoo Youngjae standing in the far corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest in a manner that seemed more fitting for a grumpy child. He leaned against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, and had a splint over his nose.

Himchan narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking over to see Junhong sitting beside Jongup, who was clinging to him from behind, face buried in the back of his shoulder. Junhong looked at him helplessly, but he could tell he was also massively relieved to see him. Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

Himchan shut the door behind him silently before speaking. “Junhong told me about you.”

He kept his eyes trained on Youngjae, but his peripheral vision didn’t miss the way Jongup’s head jerked up at the sound of his voice. He probably hadn’t noticed him enter. He seemed to relax the slightest bit now that there was one more person between him and the man who had taken him from his home and leeched him of his life.

Jongup was still in pretty bad shape, but he was improving fast, and Himchan was glad for that, but he hadn’t seen him look so afraid like this before. Well, in the single day he’s known him, which is not an especially long time to know someone for. The IV was still tucked into his forearm, and Himchan thought he was looking a lot less pale than when they’d first met.

Youngjae didn’t say anything, merely raising his eyebrows in response to Himchan’s opening statement.

“What are you doing here?” the other man pressed.

“Despite what I’m certain you’re all thinking, I didn’t follow you here. I never meant to ever run into you again.”

Himchan nodded, encouraging him to continue.

Youngjae sighed. “When I went to the surface, I didn’t want to come back here,” he said. “I decided that, no matter what, I’d go back, and I’d stay there.”

“Then why did you come back here? You could’ve just stayed there the first time you went,” Himchan argued, but Youngjae was already shaking his head.

“I wasn’t alone. There’s no way. I didn’t have enough time to think about that, anyway. We were barely up for an hour.”

“What were you doing there? How did you even get there?”

Youngjae tried to play off his hesitation, but Himchan saw right through the way he smoothed his face over.

“I was sent there by my boss. To retrieve something for him.”

“Right.”

“We were given a specially engineered detector device. They never told us what exactly we were looking for. Just to follow the machine. I had no idea that we were really doing.”

“And you still did it once you found out.”

“I was doing my job.”

“Why are you here?” Himchan didn’t want to waste time arguing over this. Nothing productive would be made of that. It would be best to get to the point.

“I’m here because I want to join you guys.”

Himchan rose an eyebrow and craned his neck to look at Junhong. He shrugged back at him.

“And can you give me one good reason we should even be speaking to you right now?”

Youngjae pointed at Junhong. “That book he’s holding,” he said. “Has a map that can get us out of here. But it’s written in an ancient language, one that Junhong thinks Jongup can read. I’m willing to share the map with you if he can help with translating.”

Himchan bit his lip. “Junhonggie––”

“Listen,” Youngjae drew his attention back to him. “Without that map, you three aren’t getting out of here. And without him––” he pointed at Jongup “––I’m not getting out of here, either.”

PHEW i've been brewing over this for DAYS!i just could not feel satisfied with it, but that always happens, doesn't it? ah well.
i hope you're all having fun <3
let me know what you think! :D