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Rain blurred the world like a smudged memory. It hadn’t let up for hours, and it wasn’t falling. It was consuming. Drowning the city in a gray that clung to everything, even the bones.
Mark’s hair was plastered to his forehead, his jacket soaked through, and water dripped down his spine like the cold fingers of something he couldn’t name. Grief, maybe. Memory. Regret.
His hand brushed the gun beneath his coat. The metal pulsed with a warmth that felt crueler than the rain. The real shot had already been fired. Not tonight.
Not even here. It was the moment he’d heard the voice on the other end of the line, flat and crackling through his earpiece, saying Haechan’s name. "He was born here, yet he turned on the one place that raised him. He turned"
That was the first bullet. Right to the chest. And Mark had been bleeding since.
Mark had found himself on the streets, hands bloody and bruised from a fight he hadn’t meant to win, and the agency found him. They stripped him clean. Love. Guilt. Mercy. All carved out through years of brutal training and the kind of silence that breaks louder than noise.
He wasn’t alone.They were all born into it. Chenle, Renjun, Mark, and Haechan. The Agency didn’t recruit children; it manufactured them. Raised on code and scripts, taught how to kill before they learned how to dream. None of them chose this life. It was wired into their bones.
A life of conditioning. A quiet war behind closed doors, no birthdays, no bedtime stories, just targets, simulators, punishment, and praise. And survival.By twenty-four, he was their best operative. Seoul’s ghost. His kill list read like the notes of forgotten scandals, corrupt execs, informants, and the innocent bystander unlucky enough to be standing in the wrong place when the mission required no witnesses.
But even then, he remembered the others.He remembered Jeno holding a gun steady at twelve with hands that didn’t tremble. Renjun’s uncanny ability to mimic anyone’s voice after hearing it once.
Chenle’s deadpan calm while stitching up his own thigh in the dark. And Haechan, brilliant and unpredictable, was already starting to fracture long before the rest of them knew what breaking even felt like.He never flinched. Never paused. Never looked back. Except now.
Mark never worked alone, and Haechan wasn’t just a partner. He was the exception to the rule. The person who laughed when no one was supposed to.Who slipped past the walls? Mark didn’t even know he still had it. Who knew how to decode a heartbeat, not just as data, but as a language?
The voice in his ear cut through the downpour like a scalpel.“He accessed the heartbeat archives. Played tracks he shouldn’t have. Manipulated agents. You think he just went quiet?”
No. That was never his style. Silence wasn’t absence; it was intent. “This isn’t just betrayal,” the voice continued, colder now. “It’s conversion. He knows how to rewrite loyalty. Three agents gone. And if he’s testing you, Mark… then you’re already compromised.”
The accusation hung heavier than the mission. That he was too close. That he still cared. That maybe, just maybe, Haechan knew that.
“Make it right.”
He didn’t answer. He just stood in the rain, the weight of a gun in one hand, the weight of a history he was never supposed to have in this life. He was trained to forget. But some names don’t leave quietly. And Haechan's was one of them.
Mark tightened his grip on the silencer in his jacket. Haechan was reckless, always slipping through the cracks from each attempt to catch him; there was nothing his ex-partner couldn’t do.
But here he was, his familiar figure standing by the river, bathed in the glow of the city. Mark exhaled, steadying his aim, but something in Haechan’s stance made his finger hesitate on the trigger. The way he looked at the skyline was like he was part of it, like he belonged to the ripple of the waves.
There’s no room for emotion in this line of work, but emotion is the one thing Mark can’t seem to kill. Not when it’s looking back at him with eyes that still believe in second chances, in the promise of something more. In that breath between life and death, he doesn’t pull the trigger. He lowers the gun.
It should have been easy.“You always hesitate when it comes to me, Mark,” Haechan called out, turning around with a cold, distant expression. “You know better than to shoot me because we both know it’s not what you want to do; it’s not right.”
And Mark knew he was right. He felt it, just like he felt it back when they first started. The moment he felt their bodies first hit the ground below them.
He remembers dropping his guard for a moment, just long enough to get swept. The way he hits the mat with a grunt. “You hesitated,” Haechan said flatly, standing over him.“You blinked,” Mark countered with a smirk, refusing his outstretched hand. “Means you cared.”
Haechan didn’t respond immediately. There was a beat too long where the silence spoke. He offered his hand again. Haechan took it that time, his grip firm.“You think one of us will have to pull the trigger one day?” “Let’s hope it’s not you,” Haechan said quietly, almost like a promise.
But now Mark didn’t move. The gun in his hand weighed heavier than ever. Haechan was right; after years of training and missions, he was never as good as the others.
The feeling of hesitation filled him once again.The silence between them stretched thin, crackling like static through the comms still buzzing in his ear. Headquarters was waiting for confirmation. All he had to do was raise the weapon. All he had to do was pull the trigger.
Haechan took a slow step forward, pain etched in the lines of his face. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t beg. Just looked at Mark with something sharper than bullets: understanding.
“You couldn’t kill me even if you tried,” he said, voice low and bitter. “You’ve had so many chances. But you turned them down? They’ve sent you after me before. So why haven’t you done it yet?” Mark’s jaw tightened, the air burning in his lungs.
“Don’t test me.”
“This was a test,” Haechan whispered. “It always was.” And you failed the second you hesitated to shoot me, again.” His voice was slightly cruel. “You know better than to pull the trigger,” Haechan sighed. “Don’t fail them, Mark, shoot me. You’ll live a better life when this is over.”
He turned to face the lights, eyes catching the city’s reflection like they were made of it.
“I didn’t kill those agents,” he said. “But I freed them.”Mark’s brow furrowed. “They were puppets, Mark. Controlled by pulse codes, just like I was.”
Haechan snapped, turning to face the boy directly. “Headquarters used us. You think we chose this job?” A pause. “I played their heartbeat,” he said quietly. “And I heard the truth.”Mark stepped forward, slowly.“ They said you manipulated profiles. Used their emotional algorithms to breach their command.” He took a step forward. “They said you turned.”
Haechan’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t a smile. “No, Mark, I woke up. Do you ever wonder why they pair us with people we care about? Why do they encourage attachments? It’s leverage. They give you a reason to live so they can take it away when you disobey.”
Mark’s grip on the gun faltered.The silence stretched thin again, tension riding the line between them like wire. Rain began to fall once more, soft, rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat.
“Don’t make me do this,” Mark said, breath shaking.“I’m not making you,” Haechan replied. “They are.”
And in that moment, Mark felt the weight of it. Every command disguised as duty, his breath hitched and skin pricked up at the realization.It was control, covered in codes and silence. Mark wasn’t the one pulling the trigger. Headquarters was. Always had been. Mark had just never seen it clearly until now. Standing face-to-face with the one person he never wanted to kill
Haechan was right. Mark had let them in. Into the cracks of his armor, into the only part of him that still felt human. And now, standing on that bridge with his emotions poured on the concrete and betrayal thick in the air, Mark knew this mission was not going to end. “I was never your enemy,”
Haechan mumbled, eyes softening just for a breath.
“But right now, you choose to live by their side. That's something I can't stand to see.” Mark looked away, the weight of the silencer trembling in his grip.
“Then why didn’t you run?” he asked, barely a whisper.
Haechan’s lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. “Because if I’m finally going to die, I’d rather it be by your hand instead of someone who can’t tell the difference between being free and being controlled.”
And in that moment, Mark wished more than anything that he was someone else. Someone who could pull the trigger and forget. Someone who could walk away without a piece of himself bleeding out on that bridge too.
But he wasn’t. And wasn’t sure he’d ever be.Mark’s jaw clenched as he raised the gun, the metal cold against his skin, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts. Every part of him screamed to stop, to turn around, to forget the mission, forget the blood, forget him. But there was no forgetting Haechan. There was never going to be forgetting Haechan.
The silence between them stretched tight, electric. Haechan stood still, waiting, eyes locked on Mark like he already knew how this would end. Mark swallowed hard, pushing everything—every memory, every laugh, every moment that ever felt like more—down so deep it almost choked him.
Then he pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, clean and merciless. Haechan staggered back, a strangled gasp escaping as the bullet tore through his arm. His body hit the rail, legs nearly buckled beneath him, one hand clutching the wound as blood soaked into his sleeve.
Mark’s voice came out low and sharp, cracking at the edges. “Leave, Donghyuck.”
Haechan blinked, stunned, pain clouding his expression.“Get out of Seoul,” Mark said again, firmer this time, gun still raised.
“Leave. Before they find you.” Haechan held his gaze for a long moment, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came. So he turned, disappearing into the dark, and Mark stood alone in the rain, breathing in the smoke and regret, wondering if he’d just let someone go or lost him forever.
His fingers hovered over the comm for a moment before pressing it to his ear. “Target eliminated,” he said, voice steady, like something inside him had finally gone quiet.
He ended the call before they could ask questions, the lie settling heavier than the gun in his hand.But the truth was, Mark had already started to unravel the moment they forced him to choose between the system that raised him and the boy who made him believe there could be more than following orders.And there was a part of him that knew he'd see the boy's face again.
꒰১
The glow from the outdated monitors flickered like candlelight in the dark. Haechan sat cross-legged on the cold cement floor, his arm stained, face gaunt, and eyes sharp. A familiar voice crackled through the audio feed, scrambled but unmistakable.
“Target eliminated.”
Haechan replayed it for the fourth time, fingers drumming on the edge of an exposed circuit board. His other hand twitched, ghost pain from where the bullet had torn clean through muscle and trust.
Mark had lied for him.That alone made the grid shift. He leaned forward, tweaking the resonance filter on the device beside him. The stolen heartbeat files were still loading, encrypted archives buried deep in the agency’s emotional profiling vault. Each file is a pulse, a memory, a manipulation blueprint. He’d only heard fragments so far. But what he found... it was enough.
Enough to prove none of them were free.The others must feel it, the unmistakable tug on your fingertips, the tightness on your heart. The haze in your head before the trigger pulls.
The hum of machines filled the room like static in his veins. Mark had pulled the trigger... just enough. Enough to make it real. Enough to make it hurt. But not enough to kill him.
There was no blur behind his eyes.Haechan rewound the comms recording again, letting Mark’s voice wash over him one last time. “Target…eliminated” ran through his mind over and over again.
A lie dressed as truth. The clean kill they all wanted. And maybe, deep down, the only kind of mercy Mark had left to give before he broke himself in. He stared at the flickering data pulses on the monitor, agents reduced to waveforms, loyalty coded like a rhythm, loyalty turned into a weapon.
The pulse codes weren’t just commands. They were cages. And Haechan had found the key. Somewhere, out there, Mark was walking away from that bridge with blood on his hands and a fracture in his soul. But Haechan knew what that shot meant. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t weakness.
Because now they were both compromised. And he couldn’t go back. Headquarters would know Mark didn’t finish the job; they’d kill him if he stayed. He had to get him back.Haechan stood slowly, grabbing the pack of encrypted drives and slinging it over his shoulder. His arm throbbed, but he welcomed the pain. It meant he was still here. Still a threat. Still human.
Climbing down the window of his rundown hideout, he slipped down and out through a service tunnel into the neon-stained underground part of the city. He whispered, not to Mark, not to the agency, but to the pulse beating just beneath it all.
“Run with me.”
And somewhere, beneath the endless hum of Seoul, the system felt it too. A heartbeat skipping out of sync.Losing Mark wasn’t just losing a partner; it was like tearing out a part of himself he wasn’t sure could ever grow back.
It wasn’t something he could bury or outrun. The silence Mark left behind echoed too loudly.He was the only person in the agency who didn't see him as a threat, and this meant more to him than he knew.
Because if Mark was gone for good, then so was the last piece of Haechan that still believed in redemption.And he wasn’t ready to let that die. Not yet.
꒰১
Mark knew Haechan was ready to burn down the system to get him back; he saw it in his eyes when he ran from the bridge. He’d do anything for him. But here he was, standing inside it, trapped like an animal, waiting to see if the cage would let him leave.
He stood at the edge of the projection table, its surface covered with flickering 3D maps, mission overlays, and glowing landmarks of every standing puppet on a mission. The room was dim, sterile, and cold in a way that went beyond temperature. Across from him stood the director. The director knew he failed.
The others in the room, officers and analysts, stood motionless, their presence more spirit than human. Expressions that went beyond judgment.“Your report was…inefficient, Agent Lee,” the director said, voice controlled, clearly emotionless.
Mark's eyes twitched. “I completed the mission. I followed your protocol.”
The director’s eyes narrowed. His hand slammed down on the projection table, causing the map to shift and warp. “And yet, nobody. No retrieval? DNA recovered from the scene suggests survival, Lee! Don’t come in here and insult me with half-assed measures.”
“I was under fire. You know how he moves,” Mark answered, voice slightly quivering. “There was no window for recovery. Kill confirmation was all I had time for.”
Quietly clearing his voice, his eyes locked with the director. “If your recovery team couldn’t clean up after my mission, maybe reassess their protocol before you start questioning mine.”
He exhaled through his nose, a ghost of a smirk flickering at the corner of his mouth. He stepped around the table, heels echoing on the polished floor, and placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder, heavy and painful.
“Explain this.” He turned slightly, tapping a nearby console. A waveform projection shimmered to life, faint and pulsing. “An unauthorized heartbeat file. Extracted from our archive, Sector Seven. Accessed with your clearance code.”
Mark’s jaw locked, just slightly.
And he played it. His quivering voice, the rain against his comm in the video making it all the more emotional.
"Target...Eliminated"
"Did we train you to give half-assed confirmation?"
"No…"
"Did we train you to leave a body out in public?"
"No""Then come on, Lee! You should know better than to start breaking on us."
The director leaned in, his voice lowering. “He’s not dead. And you know it.” A pause. “You knew it.”
This accusation wasn’t shouted. It didn’t have to be. It sat in the air like smoke from a gun still warm.
The room fell silent again, one of those silences that doesn’t wait for a response but demands one anyway.
Mark said nothing.
"You understand what this means?" He said, stepping back slowly, letting the tension swallow him.Mark’s fingers curled slightly at his side. He didn’t nod. Didn’t move.
The Director’s tone softened, but his words hit harder than ever. “Listen to me, Lee. He is a threat. And we do not negotiate with threats. You bring his body back to us...”
He paused, the pause itself a weapon.
“...or we take yours.”
The silence after that wasn’t quiet; it was a countdown.
꒰১
He reads the termination order again. No emotion in the wording. Just a protocol. “Subject: Lee Donghyuck. Status: Rogue. Directive: Immediate neutralization.”
Mark leans back in his chair, fingers clenching. He taps the trigger mark on his own temple, a nervous habit. “You said I blinked,” he murmurs aloud.
He looks at his comm chip. One tap would contact Jisung. Two taps would activate the protocol to trace Haechan. Three taps would delete the message.
He does none.
Instead, he whispers, “You said that meant I cared.”
“Listen closely, Mark. You’ll soon see the lie you live in.” Click “I don’t know how long I can run for. You know where to find me, and when you do, don’t hesitate.”The tape spun in a slow circular motion inside the player, the hum of the spin echoing throughout the room, the words replaying in his mind.“You know where to find me; when you do, don’t hesitate.”
The message ended, but Mark could still hear him.Every corner he turned, every step he took, he was chasing a voice that had once sounded like home.It’s been 6 days, and sleep has become a luxury Mark can no longer afford. Giving an excuse to the director shouldn't have taken as long as it did.
He moved like a shadow through Seoul’s streets. Through tunnels still warm with the ghosts of past missions, through abandoned basements where coded echoes bounced off the walls, through empty buildings swallowed by vines and memory. He searched in silence, but his head was loud.
He followed trails that barely existed, power surges with no source, hacked relay nodes rerouting dead transmissions, and heartbeat residue on walls no one else would think to check. Each step whispered the same truth:Haechan was still here.
Mark hit a bar deep in the industrial fringe, half-collapsed, with front windows boarded and neon still buzzing like it didn’t know the place was already dead. Inside, the air was thick with sweat, smoke, and secrets.
That’s where he found Jaemin and Jeno, tucked into a booth in the back, backs to the wall, eyes already on him the moment he walked in. “You’re late,” Jaemin muttered, dragging the side of a chipped glass across the table.
His cigarette was tapping against the rim of his glass.Mark didn’t sit. Didn’t look. “Where is he?” Jeno glanced at Jaemin, then nodded at the seat across from them. “He made sure you’d come looking.”
Mark didn’t move. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. “He accessed a heartbeat file under my clearance.” Jaemin leaned forward. “Exactly. It wasn’t a mistake. He used your code on purpose, Mark.
He wanted them to trace it back to you.” He nodded slightly.“He left a trail only you could follow,” Jeno added. “And he knew exactly how you’d move. Where you’d look. Who you’d come to.”
Mark stared down at Jaemin’s cigarette, mind heavy in thought. “Why?”“Because he doesn’t trust anyone else,” Jaemin said. “And maybe...” his voice lowered, “he didn’t want to do this alone.”
Mark exhaled slowly. “Do what?” Jeno slid a crumpled data map across the table, highlighting routes and blackout zones. “Leave,” Jaemin said. “He wants to leave with you.” “You never saw how much he hated being controlled? Every mission almost sent him spiraling, Mark; they were killing him.”
Mark stared down at the map. “If they find him before I do,” “They’ll kill him,” Jeno cut in. “And you, if they even suspect you hesitated again.”
Jaemin stood, throwing on his coat. “You need to find Jisung. He’s the only one who still has contact. But be careful; if we know where you’re going…”Mark nodded. “They will too.”
He looks between them. Jeno’s expression wavers. “We can cover you for a few hours. That’s all,” Jaemin says.
The man’s words burned in Mark’s mind as he moved through the streets. One mistake would cost him his life, their lives.
꒰১
The entrance to the old metro checkpoint was nearly invisible, swallowed by ivy and blackout paint. Mark moved like a ghost, breath shallow, silencer in hand. The silence down here was thick, pressed into the walls like something waiting.
Jisung was already there. Sitting on the edge of a rusted terminal, eyes dark and unreadable.“You’re getting slower,” he said, not looking up.
Mark didn’t respond.Jisung reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cassette tape—old tech, analog, impossible to trace.
He tossed it toward Mark. “He left this. Said it was for you.”Jisung turns behind him and exposes a slightly broken VCR; one more use and it’s guaranteed to break in on itself.
"You know Mark," Jisung sighed, "he said he wished it was you getting out first, you know? Must be hard not knowing that this is all for you."
Mark's fingers tightened around the cool metal. Walking next to the boy, he pressed play without saying a word.
Haechan’s voice came through, quiet, raw, and just a little broken:
"I know you think this is another act of betrayal... but it’s not. Not really. They broke us, Mark. Rewired us with chips to follow what we thought was our free will and judgment.”
Click
“I couldn’t take it anymore; it was killing me. It’s killing me now that you’re still there…there believing that there’s a part of you that’s not human. I can’t leave you there. I can’t run if it’s not with you."A pause."
We can learn to be human again, together… If you’re hearing this, you’re close. Come find me and we can leave. I promise you I'll get us out of here."The message ended, and the silence that followed felt like it swallowed him whole.
Mark looked up at Jisung. “Where?” Jisung nodded toward the far end of the tunnel. “He’s at the Imjin River. Not for long, but he’s waiting. Not for a rescue. For you.”
Mark turned, the tape now in his hand, pulse burning in his throat. How long has he been hurting?He didn’t say thank you. Didn’t say goodbye. He needed to get back to him as soon as possible.
Mark broke into a sprint, lungs burning, legs aching, the trees closing in like a trap around him.Branches whipped against his jacket, the ground sloped uneven beneath his feet, but none of it mattered. Not when Haechan could be waiting by the river.
Not when every second stretched the distance between the boy who told him not to hesitate and the silence that might be waiting now.Mark didn’t think. Didn’t breathe. He just ran like the world would end if he didn’t make it in time.
He tore through the trees like the ground would swallow him whole if he slowed down. The pulse of dread in his throat beat louder than the footsteps pounding behind him.The river was close. Haechan was close.
“Mark!”
A voice, sharp and too familiar, cut through the fog.Mark skidded on the mud, eyes snapping to the figures appearing through the trees, Chenle and Renjun, faces carved with the same grim finality. Guns raised.
“Don’t do this,” Mark said, panting. “Don’t!” A shot cracked. Heat exploded through his shoulder like fire. He staggered, pain lancing down his arm.
“Fuck!” he gasped, stumbling into the side of a tree. Blood soaked through his jacket. “Don’t make us do this,” Renjun said, voice strained. He looked like he’d already lost something vital.
“We don’t want to. But we can’t stop it anymore.”Their eyes weren't there; it was the same dazed look he knew too well. Renjun’s jaw trembled like he wanted to speak, but the words died under commands he never chose to follow.
Chenle’s movements were too sharp, too exact. Mark’s stomach dropped when he realized. They weren’t fighting him. They were too far corrupt in the codes.
“You don’t have to listen to them,” Mark snarled through the pain. He raised his own gun with a shaking hand. “You can fight it!”
“You really think we haven’t tried?!” Chenle wailed. His hand was shaking around the trigger, eyes glassy. “I wake up screaming with orders I didn’t choose. You think we’re free?”
“You shot me; you don’t get to pretend you’re not making a choice!” Mark shouted.“We’re already gone!” Renjun screamed. “If you don’t kill us, they’ll make us try again. And next time, it won’t just be you. It’ll be him.”
Mark’s heart dropped again.
“I’m sorry,” Chenle said.Mark didn’t have the time to hesitate. He shot first, low and clean. Chenle jerked as the bullet hit his rib, crumpling to the ground with a shriek. Renjun fired and missed. Mark spun, caught Renjun in the neck, and the boy went down hard.
Echoes of the shots engulfed the trees around him. Mark’s chest heaved, his shoulder screaming, blood soaking warm into the fabric.“I didn’t want this,” he whispered to no one.And then he ran.
The trees thinned around him like they, too, were making way for something inevitable. Branches clawed at his skin.Leaves blurred past like static. And then, through the break in the trees, he saw it, the silver glint of water under a clouded sky. The river. And at its edge, a figure too still to be anything but waiting.
The river came into view like the end of a nightmare. Haechan stood at the edge, still as a ghost, like he was waiting for something to die, maybe himself.
Mark stumbled into the clearing, one hand clamped over his bleeding shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his shirt.
Haechan turned at the sound, eyes wide, breath hitching. “Shit, Mark, you’re-”
“Yeah, I’m fucking shot,” Mark snapped, staggering forward. “Thanks for noticing.” Haechan took a step toward him, but Mark recoiled, disbelief crackling just under his skin.“
Don’t. Don’t you dare come near me.”
“Mark,”
“Why the hell did you leave?” Mark’s voice cracked, raw and shaking. “Why didn’t you say anything? You just vanished. You knew what they’d do to you! and you still left?!”
“I thought if I told you, you’d try to stop me,” Haechan said, voice tight. “And I didn’t want to give you another reason to get yourself fucking killed.”
“So instead you gave me every reason to walk into a goddamn ambush!”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Bullshit!” Mark yelled. “You think disappearing protects me? Chenle shot me, Haechan. Shot me in the shoulder and cried while he did it. Renjun took it in the neck! He begged me to kill him. Do you know what the fuck I had to crawl through just to get here?!”
“I know!” Haechan shouted back, fists clenched like if he didn’t hold them tight enough, he’d fall apart. “I fucking know, okay?! That’s why I need you to leave with me!”
Mark’s knees almost buckled. His chest heaved, blood pounding in his ears. “You think we can just run? After everything they did to us, after everything you did? You think we can just disappear into the sunset and call it even?”
“They’ll come for us either way,” Haechan growled, stepping forward. “So let them. Let them fucking try. I’m done dying for people who treat us like we’re human.”
Mark looked at him, eyes glassy with exhaustion. “You left me,” he whispered, voice now quivering. “You left without me. And now you want me to just… follow you like nothing happened?”
Haechan’s voice broke. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” He looked at Mark, eyes burning. “Because I was scared you’d pick them. That you’d look at me and still choose them.”
Mark went still. Like the words had knocked the air out of him.“Please,” Haechan whispered, voice shaking now. “Don’t make me regret this. Don’t make me regret choosing you.”
Mark stood there, frozen. The pain in his shoulder was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He could still hear Renjun’s voice: “We’re already gone.” Chenle’s hands were shaking as he pulled the trigger.
He had been gone too. The moment Haechan left, the moment he didn’t fight it, something in Mark had folded in on itself, and HQ filled the cracks with orders, with blood, with fear.
Even now, part of him screamed to go back. To finish the mission. To survive, the only way he knew how was by obeying.
His gun was still in his hand. Still warm. Still loaded.Haechan saw it. His breath hitched. “You’re thinking about it,” he whispered. “You’re thinking about going back...”Mark didn’t deny it. His silence said enough.“God,” Haechan breathed, stepping back like he’d been struck. “After everything, they still have you on a leash?”
“It’s not that simple,” Mark said, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. Haechan’s voice rose. “No? What is it then, Mark? Loyalty? Fear? Or are you still hoping they’ll let you stay their favorite weapon if you just keep your hands clean?”
“You don’t get to say that.”
“Why not? You’re standing there trying to decide whether you’d rather kill me or disappoint them!”
Mark turned away, jaw tight, as if the truth in that burned too deeply to face.“Look at me!” Haechan said. “Tell me I’m wrong.
”Mark’s jaw clenched. “Do you know what they’ll do if we run? They’ll burn everything. They’ll wipe us off the map, Haechan. They’ll hunt us down and reprogram what’s left of us!”
“I know!” Haechan said, voice cracking. “But at least it’ll be us they’re hunting. Not any of their puppets
“You don’t get it,” Mark snapped. “I am one of their puppets. You think I haven’t looked in the mirror and seen it? Every fucking thing I’ve done, every mission, every kill, I did it for them. It was never my choice. I don’t even know who I am without their voice in my head.”
“You’re Mark.” Haechan said fiercely. “You’re the only one who genuinely fucking cares! nobody would’ve gone through with this mission; it was suicide, but fuck, look at you!”
His voice trembled. “You’re the only one who came back for me… bleeding, hunted—even after everything, I know exactly who you are.”
Mark’s breath trembled. His grip on the gun faltered. “Don’t do that,” he said, voice barely audible. “Don’t make me believe there’s something left in me worth saving.”
“There is,” Haechan said, stepping closer. “There always was. But if you go back now, they’ll take it from you for good. And I’ll lose you. I’ll fucking lose you, Mark. I can't do that again.”
The river sung around them, black water swallowing the city’s lights. The ripples of rain reminded Mark of what had been and who he could be.Haechan’s hand pressed against his, warm despite the cold.
“You’re Mark,” he whispered, eyes curved into a smile. “Not their ghost. Not their weapon. Just you. And if you can see that, we can break them.”
For once, Mark didn’t lower the gun. He let it fall.Steel clattered against stone, drowned out by the storm.When he lifted his head, something sharp and defiant burned through the haze.
“Prove it,” Mark said. His voice trembling slightly. “Show me how we burn it down, together.”