A few tense days drag by, each filled with a simmering anticipation of news or movement. The air is thick with a palpable sense of unease, as if the very atmosphere is holding its breath, waiting for something to break the suffocating stillness. When the crackle of the radio finally shatters the oppressive silence, it's a sharp, jarring reminder of the fragile connections that bind us together in these uncertain times, tenuous threads that could snap at any moment. I listen intently as Seok-Jin's voice comes through, tinged with the ever-present static of a long-distance transmission, a ghostly echo that seems to amplify the sense of isolation.
"Good morning," Seok-Jin begins, his voice filtered through the radio's persistent hiss, a constant reminder of the vast distances that separate us. "I've been reflecting deeply on our situation—about your... unique circumstance."
