Chapter Text
Seoul was perhaps experiencing the greatest fire disaster in its history.
The darkness of the night was illuminated by the scorching flames rising into the sky. The suffocating smoke created by the flames, which mercilessly burned everything in their path, blanketed the sky and severely deteriorated the air quality.
Normally vibrant at all hours, Seoul would usually quiet down a little at night but now, it echoed with terrifying sirens. The streets were filled with an unusual sense of unrest.
Sandbags, buckets, and hoses meant for firefighting lined the streets. As the flames painted the sky in shades of orange and black, Seoul’s lively spirit was on the brink of vanishing in the face of the fires.
The sirens blaring relentlessly day and night struck fear into the hearts of the people. But when they rang out at night, that fear intensified for everyone. After all, sleep was the moment when people were at their most vulnerable.
The fear caused by the fire had turned the nights into a nightmare for the citizens. While most people didn’t sleep at all, others got by with only a few hours of rest.
This situation led to inefficiency in workplaces and caused health problems among the public. Sleeplessness, stress, and anxiety were taking a toll on both their physical and mental health.
Night had become not just a time for rest, but also a time of struggle for the people of Seoul. The merciless sirens carried the weight of the catastrophe, the fragility of human life, and the fear of loss.
Throughout this process, with the destruction of most of the buildings in the city, Seoul’s glamorous texture took a severe hit. The burning of both historic and modern structures shook the city's identity to its core, and tourism was no exception to this devastation.
Interest in tourist areas suddenly plummeted due to fear and uncertainty and frankly, it wasn’t surprising at all.
Although the Korean government didn’t seem to be taking the fires seriously enough, a large portion of visitors, disturbed by the sense of unease in their hearts, were either leaving the country or postponing their travel plans. After all, most of the must see places had already turned to ash and lost their touristic value.
To be honest, everyone’s life was precious to themselves. Yet there were still tourists who knowingly put themselves in danger. While some still had their minds set on sightseeing, others had already rolled up their sleeves to help, showing their compassion.
The once dazzling streets were now covered in black and heavy smoke. All that remained of the burning buildings were ashes, drifting from one corner of the city to another.
The streets no longer echoed with music and dance, but with sirens and the frantic rush of panic. In short, there was little beauty left to see here now.
But what lay behind these fires? There was no need for deep thought following the clues and forming a logical hypothesis based on the findings was enough. According to the most widely accepted theory, the cause of the fires was the power struggle between political figures.
Whoever controlled the city would not only intimidate others but also be able to reshape it according to their own desires.
If this assumption was true, it worked to the advantage of all politicians. But the same couldn’t be said for the people. They would be doomed to suffocate under increasing taxes and price hikes.
Student dormitories, schools, and several government buildings had been set on fire simultaneously a few weeks ago, turning the capital into a blazing hell and creating an apocalyptic scene.
All firefighting units in and around Seoul had mobilized to battle these fires, but extinguishing them wasn’t easy.
Meticulously planned arson attacks had been organized to exceed the intervention capacity of both firefighters and law enforcement. The attackers had infiltrated the target buildings beforehand, damaging their internal structures.
For instance, they would blow up gas pipes, block water lines, break doors to hinder exit routes, or set fire to window areas. In doing so, they not only caused trouble for the current government, but also caused the intervention teams to lose both time and credibility.
Some members of the public, unaware of what occurred during the response efforts, accused the firefighting teams of carelessness and incompetence. Even though the team leaders shared all the intervention details with the public, this critical attitude didn’t change.
The footage recorded by cameras mounted on the firefighters helmets only led the critical minority to make even more provocative comments. No matter how well the response was carried out, this group always found something to criticize.
Thankfully, amid all this chaos, there were still good-hearted people who preserved their humanity. From the very first moment, the compassionate segment of the population flooded the streets with fire extinguishers, water buckets, and every other piece of equipment that could help put out the flames.
This solidarity greatly eased the workload of all intervention teams, especially the firefighters.
As the news spread that the fires revealed to be acts of arson were terrorist attacks, no clear statement had yet been made by South Korea’s current government.
No state of emergency had been declared, nor had a curfew been implemented. Considering all these developments, the probability of the most popular hypothesis being accurate continued to grow.
Just as the fires in one area were being extinguished, buildings in another region would be set ablaze at the exact same time. It was a terrifying cycle an unending, revolting nightmare.
At some point, the situation became so exhausting that all empty buildings were left to their fate, and only structures with living beings inside were prioritized for intervention.
Even though everyone tried to do more than their best during the responses, unfortunately, many people were injured and lives were lost. In Seoul, a living hell on earth, not only firefighters but also law enforcement and medical personnel were working overtime.
Firefighters were battling the flames, law enforcement was meticulously searching for the perpetrators, and medical workers were trying to save lives in overcrowded hospitals. Meanwhile, the politicians behind the arsons continued to pursue their agendas without interruption.
Minho, one of the unit leaders of the Seoul Fire Department, began scanning his surroundings the moment he stepped into a building at risk of collapsing. Though his sooty helmet and the thick smoke impaired his vision, he remained extremely alert to his environment.
When his eyes found the small child lying on the floor, his body moved immediately. Calm, swift, and careful, he reached the unconscious child and quickly knelt down.
Gripping the child’s left arm and leg tightly, Minho lifted him onto his shoulders with a swift motion. Straightening his posture, he began walking toward the building's exit with large, cautious steps.
When he stepped outside, he was immediately surrounded by paramedics. Being careful not to hurt the child any further, he gently laid him on the stretcher brought by the medical team.
Then he looked toward the building and saw a fellow team member just a few steps ahead. Walking over to him, he asked “Is there anyone left inside?” His teammate responded directly to Minho’s question “No, Chief. This building has been completely evacuated.”
Upon receiving this information, Minho removed his mask and immediately said “In that case, let’s move on to the next location.” His crew quickly began coordinating with each other and prepared to return to their vehicles.
At that moment, Minho started walking toward the police officers on duty. When he reached them, he spoke despite the burning in his throat. “According to our initial findings, the fire was caused by arson. The building has been fully evacuated, but we couldn’t conduct a detailed investigation due to the risk of collapse. Unfortunately, we couldn’t access any documents they’ve all burned.”
The police, taking Chief Minho’s words into account, began writing up a report swiftly. When Minho signed off to approve the report, the officers cordoned off the building with security tape. This building, whose story had ended in tragedy, would be demolished within a few days to eliminate any further danger.
Having completed his work, Minho made his way to the vehicle where his team was waiting. Upon arrival, he briefly checked on the health of his teammates and felt reassured. As he settled into his seat, he took out his radio to contact the crew in the other vehicle.
“We’re heading straight to the report from the south.” he said. With every word, the pain in his throat made itself known. “Be cautious in case we get another call during the operation. Don’t use the water in the trucks. There will be water tankers waiting for us there connect the pressurized hoses directly to them.”
Within seconds, Minho received confirmation from the team in the other vehicle. Soon after, they reached the second site and quickly disembarked. Minho promptly moved away from the vehicles to inspect the scene and devise an effective intervention plan for his team.
While the rest of the team prepared for the operation, Minho circled around the building. At one point, he stopped in his tracks. As he surveyed the upper floors of the building, he brought the radio to his mouth and said “No intervention has been made on the building’s left wing.”
His brows furrowed instinctively after these words the previous team’s disorganized response had angered him greatly. “We’re taking over the left wing. Three people intervene from the outside; the rest are coming in with me. Remember, we’re only using the water from the tankers.”
Following Minho’s order, his team quickly split into two. The team handling the exterior connected the hoses to the tankers, while the others rushed to Minho’s side. Minho raised one hand into the air and then thrust it forward. With that signal, they all charged in.
The truth was, their lives were in even greater danger this time. Because the breathing support equipment hadn’t been replaced since the previous intervention, they had to make do with the remaining oxygen in their tanks. Once the oxygen ran out, they’d be on their own. Supplies were critically limited, and everyone was at risk.
The resources in the support vehicles, which had been at the scene for a while, were already depleted thanks to the previous crews. Backup vehicles dispatched from various fire stations hadn’t yet delivered the replacement equipment.
Mobile elevators vehicle mounted and ladder trucks provided a significant advantage for accessing upper floors. Ambulance doors stood wide open, with medical personnel waiting and ready for anyone who might be rescued from inside.
Those who had somehow managed to escape the building and appeared to be in good condition or at least seemed so had been directed to a gathering area several meters away from the scene.
Minho was moving quickly and decisively inside a medium sized medical center. When he saw a man standing still in a corner of the hallway, he went straight to him. When the man looked up, Minho asked with relief “Are you able to walk?”
As the man stood up, he began coughing and simply nodded in response. Minho took the man’s arm and guided him toward the window side lift the vehicle mounted one. When they reached the window, Minho carefully placed the man into the lift.
As the man was lowered by another crew, Minho returned to lead the ongoing search and rescue operation. He entered each room along his path one by one, scanning his surroundings. In one of the rooms, there was a bedridden patient clearly unable to move.
Minho reached the man’s side. Moving carefully but quickly, he disconnected the IV and cables attached to him. Immediately afterward, he lifted the man onto his shoulders. Exiting into the corridor, he kept a steady pace as he headed for the window. The moment reminded him of the civilians he had lost in his arms just hours earlier.
The painful memories left behind a lingering frustration and heartbreak that weighed on his mind. But right now, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. If he got lost in those thoughts, he might make a mistake and cost another life. So he gave a slight shake of his head and pushed the painful thoughts aside.
When he reached the window, he handed over the patient on his shoulders to another team. Maintaining his pace, he dove bravely into another burning corridor. Rescuing the elderly, disabled, and heavy individuals under these conditions was truly an uphill battle.
Over the past two weeks, he had carried countless bodies, and it had caused pain in many parts of his body. His neck, spine, and the soles of his feet were where he felt the pain most intensely. The arm he had injured a few days ago throbbed with pain after every intense movement.
While Seoul was engulfed in hellish flames, resting was a luxury Minho simply couldn’t afford. He slept only a few hours, then returned to duty. Even sleeping an hour longer made his conscience scream at him, almost to the point of deafness.
As he rushed through a room carrying yet another patient on his shoulders toward the window, he coughed harshly. Despite all his precautions, the smoke had still managed to seep into his mask and was burning his lungs mercilessly.
When his vision blurred, he quickly shook his head side to side. This was his third operation of the day. Though his body was sending subtle warnings that he needed rest, Minho refused to hear them.
When he reached the window, his vision cleared a bit more, and he successfully handed off the elderly woman he had carried to the elevator. Returning to the corridor where he had found her, he began checking all the remaining rooms one by one.
Once he confirmed that the floor was empty, he headed down to the floor below. Just as he was about to enter one of the rooms, he froze at the sound of his title being called. He turned his head toward the teammate who had addressed him.
“We’re handling this floor.” his colleague informed him. “But there are a lot of bedridden patients on the second floor.” Minho raised his hand in acknowledgment as he turned toward the stairs.
Taking the steps three or four at a time, he quickly realized that the situation on the second floor was far worse than the previous ones. Not wasting a second, he rushed into one of the rooms. The patient there weighed easily two, maybe even three times as much as Minho. The heavy equipment on the man made things even harder.
Realizing he couldn’t move the bedridden patient on his own, Minho stepped out into the corridor and shouted “I need backup!” But no one was available to help everyone was too busy.
He reached for the radio on his sleeve and repeated, “I need backup on the second floor, urgent!” When his call once again went unanswered, he cursed under his breath and returned to the patient. Trying to lift the man by the arm and leg, he made a few attempts, but couldn’t manage it.
He paused briefly to think of a solution. That’s when he noticed a leak in the room’s heat pipes. Panic and frustration surged through his veins. He ran to the corridor window, pulled down his mask, and shouted at the top of his lungs “There’s a gas leak in the building! Cut the gas immediately!”
He wanted to know why this hadn’t been done earlier and to scold everyone responsible, but there was no time. As soon as he received confirmation from the teams below, he adjusted his mask and returned to the patient.
The fact that the flames hadn’t yet reached this room was his only stroke of luck but it was clear it wouldn’t last. As he strained to lift the heavy man, pain shot through his lower back. He was aware that he had injured his spine and that this would come back to haunt him later.
After tremendous effort, when he finally managed to get the patient into a seated position, he devised a quick and practical plan. The fastest way to reach the wide balcony at the end of the corridor was to transport the patient using a stretcher or wheelchair.
After leaning the man back against the bed’s headboard, Minho stepped out into the corridor to find a wheelchair. When he couldn’t find one or a stretcher he called out again in desperation “I need backup!” But again, nothing changed.
As he turned to head back toward the patient’s room, an explosion erupted in the room he was passing. The blast threw Minho back violently, slamming him into the wall behind him. As new flames roared to life, the situation grew even more dire.
Minho winced from the pain, but there was no time to suffer. Bracing against the floor, he pushed himself up. Staggering back to the patient’s side, a heavy fear gripped his heart.
Several pieces of furniture in the room had caught fire due to chemicals inside. The fact that the patient couldn’t speak or move on his own hit Minho hard. The man’s helplessness added to his own, leaving no room for further thought.
Gripping random parts of the man’s shirt, Minho pulled hard, dragging him off the bed. The patient groaned in pain as he hit the floor. Minho grabbed the man’s legs and began to pull, dragging him along the ground.
It wasn’t pleasant to see someone being dragged like that, but it had to be done. Minho didn’t have many options he had to make the most of what he had. The man’s weight added more strain to Minho’s already battered body. He was tired and beaten, more fragile than usual. Still, he trusted his endurance and was determined to do everything he could.
The moment one of his teammates saw the struggle in the corridor, he came running. The firefighter knelt beside Minho and grabbed one of the patient’s legs. Sharing the weight with his colleague, Minho asked “Is there anyone else on this floor?”
His teammate replied uneasily “I think there might be one more, sir.” Without missing a beat, Minho asked his next question “Any updates on the ground and first floors?” The firefighter answered quickly “They’ve already been evacuated.”
Minho nodded in understanding and focused on the task at hand. Once they reached the balcony, they managed to get the patient onto the elevator together. Stretching his back, Minho said “Take him down with you. I’ll check the rest of the area and follow.”
The firefighter nodded silently and stepped into the elevator.
Striding through the corridor, Minho called out “Can anyone hear me?” He had shouted so much and breathed in so much smoke since morning that his voice had lost its strength. His helmet muffled it even further.
Realizing his oxygen tank was running low, he let out another curse. He didn’t usually swear much in daily life, but when he worked, he turned into a full-blown potty mouth. Adjusting the gas mask attached to his helmet, he switched to the filtration system. He was making full use of every resource, trying to survive.
Approaching one of the rooms with its door still closed, he took a deep breath, hoping the gas in the building had been cut. But his hope was in vain the moment he opened the door, the blast knocked him back once again.
Curled up on the floor, he cursed the incompetents outside while groaning in pain. Glancing into the room where the explosion had happened, he noticed a body lying motionless among the flames.
Once again pushing past his pain, he grabbed hold of the handrail mounted on the wall and forced himself to stand. After a few deep breaths, he stepped into the burning room.
He quickly reached the body on the floor. Placing a hand on the shoulder, he rolled it over only to be deeply disappointed. The body he was trying to rescue was a basic training dummy. Realizing how much time he had wasted, he felt a surge of anger.
As he turned to leave the room, the suspended ceiling collapsed, slamming him to the ground once more. His protective suit, already damaged from earlier, suddenly caught fire due to the chemicals that had soaked into it.
These suits were built to withstand a certain degree of heat, but the chemicals had compromised the fabric, weakening its resistance and allowing even his inner clothes to catch fire. Scrambling to shove the ceiling debris aside, Minho quickly stripped off the burning clothes and flung himself out of the room.
His upper body was completely bare, and the remains of his coverall hung loosely from his waist. The gear strapped to his burned skin was now torturous, but he clenched his teeth and endured.
Once he finished checking the remaining rooms, he felt like he was about to pass out. The effort he made to avoid inhaling smoke had drained his energy, and his vision was seriously impaired. Moving as quickly as he could through the corridor, he looked toward the damaged stairwell.
Descending it was far too dangerous. The area near the balcony was also now engulfed in flames. Cursing again, he rushed into a room where the fire was less intense and approached the window. Outside was a scene from hell, and the elevators couldn’t reach the ground due to the uneven terrain.
The only way out of this inferno was to jump. He pulled the damaged suit back over his upper body and, without hesitation, climbed out the window.
Dangling his legs outside, he tried to reach the marble ledge in front of the window below but the distance was too great. Gritting his teeth, he muttered to himself “Doesn’t look that high,” then, with one final burst of courage, swung his body and let go.
His goal was to grab onto the ledge of the window one floor below. He wasn’t a novice he had done it successfully many times before. But this time, things didn’t go as planned. He only managed to brush the ledge with his fingers before his exhausted body betrayed him, and he crashed to the ground.
The equipment he wore turned into an enemy during the fall and upon impact. His whole body was consumed by pain as he let out a loud, guttural groan. His teammates, who had seen him jump from the window, rushed to his side.
Though he was writhing in pain on the ground, Minho asked as if nothing had happened to him “Did we get everyone out?” One of the team members responded “Yes, sir.” Minho nodded faintly and whispered “Good.”
As he tried to sit up, one of his teammates gently pushed on his chest to keep him down “Sir, you need to wait for the medics.” But Minho brushed the hand away and said “We need to head to the next call.”
Another man spoke up “We’ve been ordered to stand down, sir. The central command has assigned another team in our place.” Minho’s teary eyes scanned the area. Everyone looked utterly exhausted. With a helpless sigh, he said “Alright… Make sure you’re okay, and get some proper rest.”
One of his teammates removed Minho’s damaged helmet, allowing him to breathe more freely. They wanted to cool him down, but unfortunately, they lacked the resources to do so.
Fortunately, the paramedics reached Minho shortly after. They immediately began treatment, mobilizing to provide him with water and oxygen.
When Minho’s injured body was placed into the ambulance, the emergency response team got to work swiftly. “Administer oxygen immediately.” one of them said. In the midst of the commotion, Minho felt a ringing in his ears. The words around him didn’t reach his ears clearly.
His vision kept drifting, and his consciousness was slipping. Upon arrival at the hospital, he was taken straight to the emergency care room. When the attending doctor came to his side, they began checking his vital signs. The fact that Minho was still conscious and reacting to the pain was, in some way, a good sign.
As the doctor gently opened Minho’s drowsy eyes and examined them with a small light, he asked “How are you feeling, Minho?” There was clear concern in him voice and something familiar in him tone.
That familiarity offered Minho a small sense of relief. Amid all the chaos, the presence of a familiar voice gave him a fleeting feeling of safety. Unsure whether it was real or imagined, Minho replied to the voice “I don’t know.”
In truth, he didn’t know how he felt. He was overcome by a deep drowsiness, and it was as if his connection to his body had been entirely severed. As the doctor continued him examination, he asked another question “Is it true that you just jumped down from the second floor?”
When Minho registered the question, he responded immediately “I don’t know.” The doctor brushed back the hair -Minho's hair- from his forehead and whispered “Alright.” That gentle gesture stirred a sense of comfort deep within him.
Then, turning to him colleagues, the doctor said “Second degree burns. Start with washing and cooling. Then check for bone and tissue damage, internal bleeding, any signs of trauma.”
The medical staff quickly sprang into action to follow the doctor’s instructions. But before even a quarter of the treatment process was complete, Minho passed out, unable to endure any longer.