Chapter Text
The drone of the plane’s engines was a constant hum in Ryu Minseok’s ears, soothing in its monotony despite the tension crackling in the air. The cabin wasn’t exactly spacious, but it had the warmth of familiarity. The five of them - Wooje, Hyeonjun, Sanghyeok - hyung, Minhyeong, and himself - were crammed into the small chartered plane that Riot had arranged for their journey to Chengdu. It had been a whole ordeal, typhoon warnings and cancelled flights, and schedules they had to attend, in the end this had been the only option available to them. Part of the crew had gone by high speed rail, and the few of them who’d been needed for one final photoshoot had followed by plane.
They’d called it a private jet, but it really wasn’t. Minseok found it terrifyingly similar to a toy plane, just... rickety and old, but it was their only available option.
The League of Legends Worlds Finals awaited them, a stage they knew intimately well after claiming the championship title for the past two years, and this year... this year could quite possibly go down in history as a journey no other team would ever be able to repeat. Their golden road. Could they do the impossible again? Minseok found himself daydreaming that they already had.
The support shook his head, he’d had nightmares before previous Finals, this felt... strangely positive, and he wondered if the others felt just as optimistic. His eyes flicked over to Minhyeong, who was lounging in the seat next to him. His legs were sprawled out as much as the cramped quarters would allow, and a mischievous grin curved his lips as he laughed at something Hyeonjun said. Minhyeong’s voice was loud, confident, and full of life, and it filled the tiny space effortlessly. Minseok couldn’t help but smile faintly. Minhyeong always carried an aura of assurance, one that Minseok found magnetic - and occasionally infuriating. As he caught himself smiling, he cleared his throat and quickly glanced away, refocusing his attention to the heights above which they soared, but Minhyeong had caught him looking and nudged his side. “Nervous already?” he teased, luckily misinterpreting his expression.
Minseok felt his cheeks heat up and continued to stare out of the window. “Why would I be nervous? We’ve been here before.” His tone came out sharper than intended, but Minhyeong didn’t seem fazed.
“What's so interesting out there,” Minhyeong inquired, leaning over him slightly to catch a glimpse.
Minseok’s fingers gripped the armrest tighter. The mountains were visible below, jagged peaks coated with a dusting of snow. It had been so warm across the country that it was a strange view, but he supposed that only proved just how tall they were. The elevation made him uneasy, and Minhyeong’s observation only amplified the twisting knot in his stomach.
“I just don’t like flying,” Minseok muttered, hoping to end the conversation. It wasn’t a lie - his fear of heights was well known within the team, something he tried desperately to downplay.
Before Minhyeong could respond, the plane jolted violently. Minseok’s stomach lurched, and the cabin filled with startled exclamations. Wooje grabbed onto the back of Jaehyeon’s seat, Hyeonjun's wide eyes darted toward the cockpit, and Sanghyeok’s calm demeanour cracked, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his seatbelt.
The plane dipped again, the engine’s hum morphing into an unnatural whine. Minseok’s heart raced as the cabin tilted sideways. Minhyeong, who had been leaning over him, now pushed back into his own seat, his usual grin vanished, replaced with a furrowed brow.
“What’s going on?!” Wooje shouted, his voice tinged with panic.
The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, at first in Chinese, and then, “Brace for impact! Brace! Brace!”
Minseok’s blood turned to ice. His hands trembled as he fumbled for his seatbelt, yanking it tighter. Minhyeong’s hand shot out, gripping Minseok’s wrist firmly. “We'll be okay,” he said, though his own voice wavered.
The next few moments blurred together. The plane descended rapidly, the sound of wind roaring in Minseok’s ears. His fear of heights, already unbearable, made his vision tunnel. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Minhyeong’s hand never left his wrist, an anchor in the chaos.
Suddenly, a violent shudder ripped through the plane and a cold rush of air hit his face, if his panic had allowed him to breathe he wouldn’t have been able to by the sheer power of the air striking his face as their section of the fuselage was wrenched away from the rest. The force slammed him sideways, his head striking what was left of the window. Stars burst across his vision, pain blooming sharp and instant before fading into numbing darkness.
When the impact came, it was a cacophony of destruction. Metal screeched against rock as their fragment of the plane skidded and twisted. The force threw Minseok forward, his head snapping back forcefully once more as the seatbelt restrained him. The world spun, the usual quiet ambience of the mountains shaken by the impact.
Then, silence .
The world stilled, but Minseok couldn’t process it at first. His ears were ringing, his vision blurred, and his body felt weightless, detached. He became aware of the searing pain in his forehead before anything else, the warm trickle of blood dripping down into his right eye.
"Minseok - ah," a voice rasped, distant and hoarse, warm fingers against his wrist twitching. Then, “Ryu Minseok!”
Minseok blinked slowly, the voice cutting through the haze. Minhyeong. He turned his head, his body protesting the motion with a wave of nausea. Minhyeong was slumped in his seat, pale but alive. Relief surged through Minseok, though it did little to quell the gnawing fear threatening to take over.
"Are you okay?" Minhyeong’s voice was rough but steady, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes landed on the blood streaking down Minseok’s face.
"I..." Minseok struggled to find his voice. "I think so. You?"
Minhyeong exhaled shakily, shifting slightly in his seat. His face twisted in pain, and he let out a sharp hiss. "Leg... It’s bad. Not broken, I think, but bad enough."
Minseok’s panic flared anew as he glanced down. Minhyeong’s left leg was bent awkwardly, blood seeping through a tear in his pants near the shin. It wasn’t gushing, but it was enough to make Minseok’s stomach churn. Healing, Minhyeong needed healing. "We need to stop the bleeding," he murmured, more to himself than Minhyeong. That isn’t enough, he needs healing, the delirious voice inside of him cried, and he grit his teeth. This wasn’t a game, he wished it were as simple as that, but his head ached, and he couldn’t focus.
The plane groaned, a low, ominous sound that sent Minseok’s heart into overdrive. He whipped his head around, taking in their surroundings for the first time. The cabin was in ruins. The front half of the plane - the cockpit and most of the other seats - was gone, leaving jagged, exposed metal where it had been torn apart. Snow dusted the torn edges, glinting in the muted daylight.
The back half, where they were, had somehow come to rest at a steep angle against a rocky outcrop. Through the gaping hole where the front of the plane had been, Minseok saw nothing but open air and the dizzying expanse of mountains stretching far below. ?Something perhaps the propeller, he realized with a sick twist in his gut, must have sliced through the plane during the descent. Had the wing come loose? What on earth had happened?
His chest tightened, his breaths coming fast and shallow. The height. The void. He clutched at the armrest, his fingers trembling. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t -
"Hey, hey, Minseok," Minhyeong’s sharp voice brought him back. Minseok looked at him, wide - eyed, and Minhyeong’s expression softened despite the pain etched across his features. "Hey, breathe. Look at me, not... that." He gestured vaguely toward the open air with a grimace. "We’re okay for now. Just focus."
Minseok nodded jerkily, dragging his gaze away from the cliffside and back to Minhyeong. His fear didn’t dissipate, but Minhyeong’s steady presence grounded him, gave him something tangible to cling to.
"Okay," Minseok whispered, mostly to himself. His trembling fingers fumbled with his seatbelt, the metal clasp slippery with sweat. Their phones were nowhere to be found, the small table on which they’d been charging them, gone. "We need to... to stop the bleeding and... and wait for rescue. They’ll come."
"Right," Minhyeong agreed, though his tone was strained. "First aid kit? There should be one somewhere."
Minseok scanned the cabin, his stomach dropping further at the state of the wreckage. Overturned seats and scattered debris made it nearly impossible to discern what was what. He unbuckled himself and rose on shaky legs, the motion sending a fresh wave of pain lancing through his forehead.
"Minseok." Minhyeong’s voice stopped him. When Minseok turned, Minhyeong was frowning, his gaze fixed on the blood dripping down Minseok’s face. "You’re bleeding too. Sit down for a second. Let me - "
"I’m fine!" Minseok snapped, harsher than he intended. The sharpness in his tone startled even himself. He softened his voice. "You’re the one who can’t move. I’ll find the kit. Just... hold on."
Minhyeong’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. Minseok turned back to the wreckage, forcing his focus onto the task at hand. He picked through the debris, his hands trembling as he moved aside torn fabric and shards of metal, in - flight meals, luggage and at last, he spotted the familiar shape of the first aid kit wedged between an overturned seat and a piece of an overhead storage compartment.
"Got it," Minseok said, his voice trembling with relief. He returned to Minhyeong’s side and crouched down, his hands fumbling as he opened the kit.
"You sure you’re okay?" Minhyeong asked again, his tone softer now. His eyes lingered on the blood staining Minseok’s temple.
"I’ll live," Minseok muttered, taking out gauze and antiseptic wipes. He avoided Minhyeong’s gaze as he carefully pulled up his ADC’s pant leg, his gaze lingering on the five stars above the T1 logo for a moment, before he refocused on Minhyeong’s wound. His heart ached at the sight of torn flesh and he started to clean the skin with trembling hands. This most definitely was not how he’d imagined his first time getting into Minhyeong’s pants would go.
Keria shook his head once more, the delirious voice inside of him incredibly improper, and his vision blurred momentarily, before he concentrated on bandaging the wound on Minhyeong’s leg. His team mate winced but didn’t complain, his sharp intakes of breath the only sign of his discomfort.
"Thanks," Minhyeong said quietly once Minseok had finished. He hesitated, then reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Minseok’s wrist, the touch warm and comforting. "Your turn."
Minseok blinked at him. "What?"
"Your head," Minhyeong said firmly, though his touch remained gentle. "You’re still bleeding. Let me."
Minseok opened his mouth to protest but stopped at the look in Minhyeong’s eyes - equal parts worry and determination. Reluctantly, he handed over the antiseptic wipes and sat down beside him. Minhyeong’s hands were steady despite his injury, and Minseok felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest as Minhyeong cleaned the cut on his forehead. He knew that he’d been this close to him before, many times, but it had never felt like this. It shouldn’t have felt intimate, but that little voice inside of Minseok’s aching head insisted that it was. The intensity in Minhyeong’s eyes as he focused on Minseok’s head wound, his warm breath fanning against Minseok’s flushed face.
"There," Minhyeong said softly, placing the used wipe aside and pulling a bandage from the kit. "Not too bad. You’ll still look good for the cameras."
The cameras. The final. Zeus, Oner, Faker, Keria and Gumayusi walking the golden road to victory. How quickly his life had done a 180. Minseok snorted, the sound half a laugh and half a sob. "Not sure that’s our biggest problem right now."
The plane groaned again, louder this time, and both of them froze. The metal beneath their feet trembled slightly, a low vibration that set Minseok’s nerves on edge.
"That’s... not good," Minhyeong said, his voice tight.
Minseok didn’t respond. He rose unsteadily to his feet and moved toward the edge of the wreckage, peering cautiously over the side. His stomach dropped. They were perched precariously on the edge of a steep cliff, the jagged rocks far below barely visible through the swirling snow.
"We need to get out," Minseok said, his voice trembling. His fear of heights surged to the forefront, threatening to paralyze him again, but he forced himself to push it down. Minhyeong needed him. There was no room for hesitation.
"You sure?" Minhyeong asked, his tone reluctant. "If we leave the wreckage..." He left the rest of the words unspoken. He didn’t need to speak them out loud, because Minseok knew exactly what he meant. If they left the crash site, how would anyone find them?
"They won’t find us if we fall off the side of the mountain," Minseok flared up, the sharpness in his voice more from fear than anger, accentuated by another tremor in the plane followed by a low groan of metal on rock. It was moving. He turned back to Minhyeong, his eyes wide and desperate. "We have to move. Now."
Minhyeong nodded grimly. "Okay. Help me up."
Minseok moved quickly, slipping an arm around Minhyeong’s waist and guiding him to his feet. Minhyeong leaned heavily on him, his weight nearly overwhelming Minseok’s smaller frame. Together, they inched toward the opening in the wreckage, Minhyeong had the sense to reach for the first aid kit on their way out.
Minseok’s breath hitched as he glanced down. The drop was dizzying, the void beneath them seeming to stretch endlessly. His legs wobbled, his vision tunneling.
"Minseok." Minhyeong’s voice was calm, grounding. "Don’t look down. Look at me. Just me."
Minseok swallowed hard, forcing his gaze upward. Minhyeong’s face was inches from his own, his dark eyes steady and reassuring despite the pain etched into his features. Minseok nodded, his grip tightening around Minhyeong’s waist.
Step by step, they made their way out of the wreckage. The biting wind and uneven terrain made every movement a struggle, but Minseok refused to stop. Minhyeong leaned into him, his warmth and presence a lifeline against the swirling chaos of Minseok’s fear. Every step forward was a battle, the sharp wind clawing at them, the ground uneven beneath their feet. It shouldn’t be this cold, not this time of year, but the altitude wasn’t forgiving, and the wind a stark reminder that they were still dealing with the tail end of a typhoon.
The jagged remains of the plane groaned ominously behind them, the sound of strained metal cutting through the howl of the wind. Minseok didn’t dare look back. He kept his focus on Minhyeong, his arm tightly around the taller man’s waist, each step an act of sheer will.
"Minseok, we’re out. We can take a break, you - ," Minhyeong spoke softly, his voice strained with concern. "You’re shaking."
"I’m fine," Minseok lied through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed ahead. The truth was that his entire body was trembling - not just from the cold wind, but from the proximity to the edge, the ever - present void threatening to pull him into its depths. Every step felt like it could be his last, as if one of rek’sai’s tunnels could suddenly open up beneath his feet and swallow him whole.
Minhyeong’s arm, draped across Minseok’s shoulders, tightened slightly. "We’re almost there. Just a little further."
Minseok nodded, though he wasn’t sure where "there" was. Away from the wreckage, away from the cliff - those were his only goals. He focused on the crunch of snow beneath his boots, the steady rhythm of his breaths, and the weight of Minhyeong against his side.
After what felt like an eternity at the slow pace they were going at, they reached a cluster of large rocks that provided some semblance of shelter from the wind. Minseok lowered Minhyeong onto a flat boulder, his muscles screaming in protest as he finally released the weight he’d been carrying, and he genuinely had no idea how he’d managed. Minhyeong was tall and muscular, and Minseok... well, he wasn’t exactly one to hit the gym regularly. He collapsed to his knees beside him, gasping for breath.
Minhyeong studied him, frowning in concern. "You’re not fine," he said quietly, his hand brushing against Minseok’s shoulder.
"I said I’m fine," Minseok spoke, though the words lacked conviction. He buried his face in his hands, trying to steady himself, willing away the unshed tears that threatened to spill. His fear, the blood loss, the sheer exhaustion of dragging Minhyeong out of the wreckage - it was all catching up to him.
Minhyeong didn’t push. He simply sat there, silent but present, his hand resting lightly on Minseok’s back. The warmth of his touch, even through the layers of clothing, was grounding. Slowly, Minseok’s breathing evened out.
"I’m sorry," Minseok murmured, his voice muffled against his hands. "I... I don’t do well with heights."
"You did more than fine," Minhyeong said firmly. "You got us out of there. I couldn’t have done that on my own."
Minseok lifted his head, meeting his ADC’s gaze. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to bear. Minseok looked away, his cheeks heating despite the cold.
"What now?" Minhyeong asked, breaking the silence.
Minseok scanned their surroundings. The mountains stretched out endlessly, the snow - covered peaks bathed in the pale light of late afternoon. The wreckage was still visible behind them, perched precariously on the cliff’s edge. Rescue seemed like an impossible dream, and the realization made Minseok’s chest tighten, but worst of all... where was the rest of the plane? He couldn’t bear thinking about it.
"We need to find proper shelter," he said finally. "Something more than this." He gestured to the rocks around them. "And we need to keep your leg clean. I stopped the bleeding, but we don’t want it getting infected."
Minhyeong nodded, his jaw tight. "There might be something further down the slope," he said, wincing as he shifted his injured leg. "Villages, maybe. People who can help."
Minseok glanced at the slope Minhyeong was referring to. It was steep and treacherous, but it was their only option. Staying here would mean freezing to death or waiting for a rescue that might never come, because all he could see was the back part of the plane, and to his knowledge, there was no transmitter there, or black box, or whatever it was that search and rescue would be looking for. Where were they anyway? He didn’t recognise these mountains, that meant that at the very least they weren’t too high up, right? This wasn’t the Himalayas - was it? He hadn’t paid any attention to their flight route.
"Okay," Minseok said, his voice steadier now. "But we take it slow."
Minhyeong smiled faintly. "You’re the boss."
Minseok scoffed, his lips twitching upward despite himself. "Glad you realise."
He helped Minhyeong to his feet again, their movements slow and deliberate. Every step was a struggle, but Minseok refused to let himself falter. Minhyeong pressed heavily against him, the weight a welcome reminder that he was here with him, and he was alive.
Time passed as they made their way down the slope, the sun dipping lower with each passing moment. The frigid wind grew sharper, biting at their exposed skin, and the approaching dark terrain even more treacherous. Minseok’s legs felt like lead, his body screaming for rest, his head on fire, but he pushed on.
Just as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the peaks, Minseok spotted something in the distance - a dark shape against the white expanse. He squinted, his heart leaping with hope.
"Minhyeong," he said, his voice hoarse. "There’s something up ahead. A building, maybe."
The ADC lifted his head, his face pale and drawn. He nodded weakly. "Let’s check it out."
With renewed determination, they pressed on. The structure grew clearer as they approached - a small, weathered cabin nestled among a cluster of trees and other, more dilapidated buildings. It looked abandoned, the wood worn and splintered, but it was a shelter. A place to rest. A chance to survive.
Minseok guided Minhyeong inside, the door creaking loudly as he pushed it open. The interior was dark and musty, but as he shut the door behind them, they were finally free of the freezing wind. There was a broken - down bench and a table in one corner, a pile of rotting wood in another, and a stone hearth and cooking worktop that might still be functional.
Minseok helped Minhyeong onto the bench, his legs trembling as he finally let go. He sank to the floor, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. For the first time since the crash, he allowed himself to breathe.
"We’ll be okay," Minhyeong said softly, his voice barely audible, a soft expression settling on his support. Minseok opened his eyes, meeting Minhyeong’s gaze. He wanted to believe him. He needed to, for the sake of the others.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "We’ll be okay."
But as the wind howled outside and the weight of their isolation settled over him, Minseok couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that their ordeal was only just beginning.